Lustucru. In good sooth, pale and sad, as if he were not well. [Groans also.]
Michel. Oh. Lustucru, even you feel his loss, although he never loved you. I can forgive you everything, when I hear that groan of anguish. Where did you dream Moumouth was?
Lustucru. He seemed to be in the garden, under the lilac bushes, his favorite resort.
Michel. I will go and look there. Oh, Lustucru, this anguish!
[Exit Michel. Lustucru dances, singing.]
Solo.—Lustucru.
Tune—"Lucy Long."
Oh, Moumouth dear, my darling,
I hope you're nicely drowned,
And never more a-kicking
By Michel will be found.
Tra la! la! la! la! etc.
[Repeat verse as refrain.]
Enter Michel. Lustucru suddenly stops, and becomes doleful.
Lustucru. Was he there? Dear Mother Michel, was our charming Moumouth there?