Page:Poet Lore, volume 28, 1917.djvu/55

Rh thing that will make all Paris shudder

Beauperthuis.—Give me my pistols!

Fadinard (Beside himself).—Give me that hat The hat, or your life!

Beauperthuis (Choking with fear).—This is unparalleled in all the annals of humanity! Here I am, taking a footbath, and awaiting my wife, when in rushes a fellow who is raving about a hat; and proceeds to hold me up with my own pistols!

Fadinard (Emphatically, leading him to the center of the stage).—It is tragic; you are not aware A straw hat is eaten by my horse  in the Bois, at Vincennes  while its owner was strolling in the wood with a young soldier

Beauperthuis.—Well? What is that to me?

Fadinard.—You're not aware of the fact that they've fastened themselves to me—perhaps for three, six, nine

Beauperthuis.—Why doesn't this young widow go home?

Fadinard.—Young widow! Would to heaven she were! But there is a husband!

Beauperthuis (Laughing).—Ha, ha, ha!

Fadinard.—A booby, a knave, an idiot; who would grind her beneath his heel like pepper seed

Beauperthuis.—I understand

Fadinard.—Yes, but we'll make a fool of him—this husband of hers; thanks to you—the knave! Oh, won't we pull wool over his eyes?

Beauperthuis.—Sir, I oughn't to lend myself to such

Fadinard.—Hurry; here's the fragment. (Shows it to him.)

Beauperthuis (Aside, studying it).—Ye Gods!

Fadinard.—Leghorn straw, red poppies

Beauperthuis.—It is; it is hers! And she's at his house; the suede gloves were a blind!

Fadinard.—Let's see; how much

Beauperthuis (Aside).—Ah, something terrible is going to happen. (Aloud.) Let us go, Sir! (Takes him by the arm.)

Fadinard.—Where?

Beauperthuis.—To your house

Fadinard.—Without the hat?

Beauperthuis.—Silence! (Listens at the room which Helene entered.)

Virginie (Entering at the back).—Sir, I've been to Gros-Caillou; nobody!

Beauperthuis (Listening).—Hush!