Page:Victor Hugo's Works (Guernsey Edition) v14.djvu/55

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Holy saints,

Was e'er such boldness! I must have your lute

Locked up. These girls! these girls! Bar them from Court,

And they'll find matter in church; keep them from speech,

And they'll make cat-gut do the work of tongue.

Better be charged to keep a cat from cream,

Than a girl from gallants!

Nay but, good Brigitta,

This gentleman is none.

How do you know?

He never speaks to me, scarce looks, or if

He do, it is but to withdraw his gaze

As hastily as I do mine. I've seen him

Blush when our eyes met; not like yon rude man

Who pressed upon me with such words and looks

As made me red and hot; you know the time

When that kind lady, Countess Malatesta,

Scarce saved me from his boldness.

Tilly-vally.

There are more ways of bird-catching than one;

He's the best fowler who least scares his quarry.

But I must go and see the supper toward.

Your father will be here anon!