[Scene 2.I.]
Ragueneau, pastry-cooks, then Lise. Ragueneau is writing, with an inspired air, at a small table, and counting on his fingers.
FIRST PASTRY-COOK (bringing in an elaborate fancy dish):
Fruits in nougat!
SECOND PASTRY-COOK (bringing another dish):
Custard!
THIRD PASTRY-COOK (bringing a roast, decorated with feathers):
Peacock!
FOURTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a batch of cakes on a slab):
Rissoles!
FIFTH PASTRY-COOK (bringing a sort of pie-dish):
Beef jelly!
RAGUENEAU (ceasing to write, and raising his head):
Aurora’s silver rays begin to glint e’en now on the copper pans, and thou, O
Ragueneau! must perforce stifle in thy breast the God of Song! Anon shall
come the hour of the lute!—now ’tis the hour of the oven!
(He rises. To a cook):
You, make that sauce longer, ’tis too short!
THE COOK:
How much too short?
RAGUENEAU:
Three feet.