Page:Orphée aux Enfers (Chicago 1868).djvu/11

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Ah! is it thus?

It is thus, my friend.

As a husband you deceive me.

Yes, my friend.

As an artist, you despise me.

Yes, my dear friend,

The violinist

Is very trist.

The instrumentist

Is a great bore,

And the instrument

Displeases me mightily.

I shall take revenge

On thy insolence.

Tell me how, please.

I will, my darling friend,

Play for thee, instanter,

A great master-piece,

My last concerto.

Have pity on me.

No, I shall not tarry,

It is the climax of art,

And only lasts one hour and a quarter.

One hour and a quarter!

At least.

I shall not listen.

Thou shalt listen! (Plays on the violin.)

It is adorable,

It is delectable,

It is ravishing,

It is astounding.

It is deplorable,

It is miserable,

It is abominable,

It is irritating.

What a charming concerto.

It is horrible,

It is terrible.

What a tremolo! rinforzando,

Presto, presto, pianissimo,

Pizzicato—agitato.

. Venus, beautiful goddess, rid me from the aimable Orpheus, and I will sacrifice ten lambs whiter than milk.

. Jupiter, my lord, rid me from my tender Eurydicea, and I will sing for thee forever on my lyre. Madam, I am a slave to public opinion, but I have sworn to kill all your admirers.

. All right then. Let us separate.