PIERROT (sighing)
Only three years! (Then bitterly—to Pierrette) Here!—I’ll give you a sign. Look!
(He walks with flat, listless feet up and down the room; then speaks, with a hopeless sob in his voice) I no longer walk on my toes! See! Flat—like that! No songs ever walked that way! Songs? No—here’s the way—
(He rises momentarily to his toes and sings.)
Oh, a merry, merry fellow,
And a sweet, fair maid,
Danced on the meadow in the gypsy time—
Said the merry, merry fellow
To the sweet, fair maid—
(He breaks off.)