Love's Comedy - BestLightNovel.com
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LADIES.
Come, let us see by how much she is short.
[All run into the garden-room; laughter and shrill talk are heard for a while from within.
[FALK, who during the preceding scene has been walking about in the garden, advances into the foreground, stops and looks in until the noise has somewhat abated.
FALK.
There love's romance is being done to death.-- The butcher once who boggled at the slaughter, Prolonging needlessly the ox's breath,-- He got his twenty days of bread and water; But these--these butchers yonder--they go free.
[Clenches his fist.
I could be tempted--; hold, words have no worth, I've sworn it, action only from henceforth!
LIND [coming hastily but cautiously out].
Thank G.o.d, they're talking fas.h.i.+ons; now's my chance To slip away--
FALK.
Ha, Lind, you've drawn the prize Of luck,--congratulations buzz and dance All day about you, like a swarm of flies.
LIND.
They're all at heart so kindly and so nice; But rather fewer clients would suffice.
Their helping hands begin to gall and fret me; I'll get a moment's respite, if they'll let me.
[Going out to the right.
FALK.
Wither away?
LIND.
Our den;--it has a lock; In case you find the oak is sported, knock.
FALK.
But shall I not fetch Anna to you?
LIND.
No-- If she wants anything, she'll let me know.
Last night we were discussing until late; We've settled almost everything of weight; Besides I think it scarcely goes with piety To have too much of one's beloved's society.
FALK.
Yes, you are right; for daily food we need A simple diet.
LIND.
Pray, excuse me, friend.
I want a whiff of reason and the weed; I haven't smoked for three whole days on end.
My blood was pulsing in such agitation, I trembled for rejection all the time--
FALK.
Yes, you may well desire recuperation--
LIND.
And won't tobacco's flavour be sublime!
[Goes out to the right. MISS JAY and some other LADIES come out of the garden-room.
MISS JAY [to FALK].
That was he surely?
FALK.
Yes, your hunted deer.
LADIES.
To run away from us!
OTHERS.
For shame! For shame!
FALK.
'Tis a bit shy at present, but, no fear, A week of servitude will make him tame.
MISS JAY [looking round].
Where is he hid?
FALK.
His present hiding-place Is in the garden loft, our common lair; [Blandly.
But let me beg you not to seek him there; Give him a breathing time!
MISS JAY.
Well, good: the grace Will not be long, tho'.
FALK.
Nay, be generous!
Ten minutes,--then begin the game again.
He has an English sermon on the brain.
MISS JAY.
An English--?
LADIES.
O you laugh! You're fooling us!
FALK.
I'm in grim earnest. 'Tis his fixed intention To take a charge among the emigrants, And therefore--
MISS JAY [with horror].
Heavens, he had the face to mention That mad idea? [To the ladies.
O quick--fetch all the aunts!
Anna, her mother, Mrs. Strawman too.
LADIES [agitated].
This must be stopped!
ALL.
