(Anthony makes the sign of the cross.)
"Thou disdainest me! farewell!"
(She departs, weeping; then, suddenly turning round:—)
"Art quite sure?—so beautiful a woman...."
(She laughs, and the ape that bears her train, lifts it up.)
"Thou wilt regret it, my comely hermit! thou wilt yet weep! thou wilt again feel weary of thy life; but I care not a whit! La! la! la!—oh! oh! oh!"
(She takes her departure, hopping upon one foot and covering her face with her hands.
All the slaves file off before Saint Anthony—the horses, the dromedaries, the elephant, the female attendants, the mules (which have been reloaded), the negro boys, the ape, the green couriers each holding his broken lily in his hand; and the Queen of Sheba departs, uttering a convulsive hiccough at intervals, which might be taken either for a sound of hysterical sobbing, or the half-suppressed laughter of mockery.)