Page:Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition) v14.djvu/26

8 A twisted, withered, hunch-backed court buffoon,—

A thing to make mirth, and to be made mirth of;

A something betwixt ape and man,—that claims

To run in couples with your ladyship.

You hunt Manfredi; I hunt Malatesta.

Let 's try which of the two has sharper fangs!

The Duke and Malatesta's wife! [ and come forward; watching them, L.

Not yet,—but one more round! The feast is blank

For me when you are gone. The flowers lack perfume,

Missing your fragrant breath. The music sounds

Harsh and untunable when your sweet voice

Makes no more under melody. Oh, stay!

I am summoned, sir; my husband waits for me.

What spoil-sports are these husbands! [Aside.] And these wives

Per Bacco! I could wish Count Malatesta

Would lend my duchess escort to Bologna,

So we were both well rid.

Your pardon, sir.

My husband beckons. It is I, not you,

Must bear his moods to-night; I dare not stay.

I would not bring a cloud to your fair brow

For all Faenza. Fare you well, sweet lady!