HORTENSE _(behind her fan)_
Not young, I think.
ARMANDE _(raising her eye-glass)_
And faded, too!--
_Quite_ faded! Monsieur, what say you?
M. LOYAL
Nay,--I defer to you. In truth,
To me she seems all grace and youth.
HORTENSE
Graceful? You think it? What, with hands
That hang like this? _(with a gesture)._
ARMANDE
And how she stands!
M. LOYAL
Nay,--I am wrong again. I thought
Her air delightfully untaught!
HORTENSE
But you amuse me--
M. LOYAL
Still her dress,--
Her dress at least, you _must_ confess--
ARMANDE
Is odious simply! Jacotot
Did not supply that lace, I know;
And where, I ask, has mortal seen
A hat unfeathered?
HORTENSE
Edged with green!!
M. LOYAL
The words remind me. Let me say
A Fable that I heard to-day.
Have I permission?
BOTH _(with enthusiasm)_
Monsieur, pray!
M. LOYAL
"Myrtilla (lest a scandal rise
The lady's name I thus disguise),
Dying of ennui, once decided--
Much on resource herself she prided--
To choose a hat. Forthwith she flies
On that momentous enterprise.
Whether to Petit or Logros,
I know not: only this I know;--
Headdresses then, of any fashion,
Bore names of quality, or passion.
Myrtilla tried them, almost all:
'Prudence,' she felt, was somewhat small;
'Retirement' seemed the eyes to hide;
'Content,' at once, she cast aside.
'Simplicity,'--'twas out of place;
'Devotion' for an older face;
Briefly, selection smaller grew,
'Vexatious! odious!'--none would do!
Then, on a sudden, she espied
One that she thought she had not tried:
Becoming, rather,--'edged with green,'--
Roses in yellow, thorns between.
'Quick! Bring me that!' 'Tis brought. 'Complete,
Superb, enchanting, tasteful, neat,'
In all the tones. 'And this you call--?'
'"Ill-Nature," Madame. It fits all.'"