Michel. Nay, your grace, my words are but too insignificant to express my admiration.
Countess. Well, well, never mind. Listening to flattery may strengthen my mind for hearing the truth; therefore I will let your speeches pass. But have you seen Moumouth this morning?
Michel. Ah, yes, madame. Chancing but now to pass the cellar stair, I beheld that sagacious animal watching, with intensest interest and quivering tail, a rat hole.
Countess (rapturously). Angelic creature!
Michel. And I disturbed him not, only called Father Lustucru's attention to him.
Countess. Ah, Michel, that is a great grief to me. Moumouth objects to Father Lustucru, my steward, who has always been so kind to him.
Michel. Yes, alas! never did I see one of your pets so prejudiced against one of your household.
Countess. Do not, I pray, refer to my other pets. And yet there is a consolation in speaking of their charms. My beautiful green parrot—
Michel (sadly). A victim to cold parsnips.