RAGUENEAU:
—And then, off she went, with a musketeer! Deserted and ruined too, I
would make an end of all, and so hanged myself. My last breath was drawn:—
then in comes Monsieur de Bergerac! He cuts me down, and begs his cousin to
take me for her steward.
THE DUENNA:
Well, but how came it about that you were thus ruined?
RAGUENEAU:
Oh! Lise loved the warriors, and I loved the poets! What cakes there were
that Apollo chanced to leave were quickly snapped up by Mars. Thus ruin was
not long a-coming.
THE DUENNA (rising, and calling up to the open window):
Roxane, are you ready? They wait for us!
ROXANE’S VOICE (from the window):
I will but put me on a cloak!
THE DUENNA (to Ragueneau, showing him the door opposite):
They wait us there opposite, at Clomire’s house. She receives them all
there to-day—the precieuses, the poets; they read a discourse on the Tender
Passion.
RAGUENEAU:
The Tender Passion?
THE DUENNA (in a mincing voice):
Ay, indeed!
(Calling up to the window):
Roxane, an you come not down quickly, we shall miss the discourse on the
Tender Passion!
ROXANE’S VOICE:
I come! I come!
(A sound of stringed instruments approaching.)