And the good matron took the ancient instrument, and, encouraged by her previous success, set about amusing her little nest-bird with a cheery old song—he sitting there, the drops of cold perspiration on his brow.
"Listen—
"'It is a good wife's part
To honor and obey,
In gossiping and dress
Time ne'er to pass away.
By daybreak she is up,
His breakfast to prepare;
Then a good roast and wine
With him at noon to share.'
Isn't it pretty? This is the second verse:
"'A husband's part it is
With her wishes to comply,
And whatsoe'er she ask
In no case to deny.
Through fire itself to go,
If but her hand to kiss,
And ever to be slow
To mark what's done amiss.'
Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the good old grandmother, in praise of her own merry ditty, and quite disposed, had Ivan expressed but the slightest word of entreaty, to repeat it for his benefit. "I only hope your little wife will soon come back to hear it."
But Ivan was no longer paying attention to her—a sound was audible from without. There had been time for Korynthia to have gone to Zeneida's and to have returned. He hurriedly opened the door.
But it was not the expected Korynthia who entered, but one whom of all others he desired least to meet with in this sublunary world—Galban.
The Chevalier was not alone; four grenadiers of the Finnish regiment stood behind him.
The Chevalier, without taking off his hat in presence of the lady of the house, or in any way saluting her into whose apartment he was thus forcing an entrance, exclaimed: