XXVII.THAT OF A DUEL IN FRANCE.
Oh,Fa-la-la!likewiseHélas!A shocking thing has come to pass,For Monsieur Henri DelapaireHas fallen out,—a sad affair,—With Monsieur Jacques Mallette."La femme?" Of course! TheybothdeclareThey lovela belleNannette.Ma foi!They'll surely come to blows,For one has tweaked the other's nose,Who quickly snaps, with fierce grimace,His fingers in the other's face.A duelmustresult.A Frenchman's honour 'twould disgraceTo bear with such insult."Pistols for two!"—in French,—they cry.Nannette to come between doth fly:"Messieurs! Messieurs!pray,praybe calm!You fill your Nannette with alarm.""Parole d'honneur!No.Revenge!" they cry. The big gendarme,Nannette to call, doth go.Quickly a crowd has gathered round,Pistols are brought, and seconds found;A grassy space beneath the trees,Where gentlemen may fight at ease;Then, each takes off his coat—Glaring meanwhile as though he'd seizeThe other by the throat.The seconds shrug, gesticulate,And pace the ground with step sedate;Then anxious consultation holdO'er pistols, for the rivals boldWho now stand white and stern;Their arms across their chests they fold,And sideways each doth turn.The seconds place themvis-à-vis,And give them word to fire at "three";Brave Monsieur Mallette shuts his eyes,And points his pistol to the skies;Brave Monsieur DelapaireHis hand to steady vainly tries,It trembles in the air.
Oh,Fa-la-la!likewiseHélas!A shocking thing has come to pass,For Monsieur Henri DelapaireHas fallen out,—a sad affair,—With Monsieur Jacques Mallette."La femme?" Of course! TheybothdeclareThey lovela belleNannette.Ma foi!They'll surely come to blows,For one has tweaked the other's nose,Who quickly snaps, with fierce grimace,His fingers in the other's face.A duelmustresult.A Frenchman's honour 'twould disgraceTo bear with such insult."Pistols for two!"—in French,—they cry.Nannette to come between doth fly:"Messieurs! Messieurs!pray,praybe calm!You fill your Nannette with alarm.""Parole d'honneur!No.Revenge!" they cry. The big gendarme,Nannette to call, doth go.Quickly a crowd has gathered round,Pistols are brought, and seconds found;A grassy space beneath the trees,Where gentlemen may fight at ease;Then, each takes off his coat—Glaring meanwhile as though he'd seizeThe other by the throat.The seconds shrug, gesticulate,And pace the ground with step sedate;Then anxious consultation holdO'er pistols, for the rivals boldWho now stand white and stern;Their arms across their chests they fold,And sideways each doth turn.The seconds place themvis-à-vis,And give them word to fire at "three";Brave Monsieur Mallette shuts his eyes,And points his pistol to the skies;Brave Monsieur DelapaireHis hand to steady vainly tries,It trembles in the air.
Oh,Fa-la-la!likewiseHélas!A shocking thing has come to pass,For Monsieur Henri DelapaireHas fallen out,—a sad affair,—With Monsieur Jacques Mallette."La femme?" Of course! TheybothdeclareThey lovela belleNannette.
Oh,Fa-la-la!likewiseHélas!
A shocking thing has come to pass,
For Monsieur Henri Delapaire
Has fallen out,—a sad affair,—
With Monsieur Jacques Mallette.
"La femme?" Of course! Theybothdeclare
They lovela belleNannette.
Ma foi!They'll surely come to blows,For one has tweaked the other's nose,Who quickly snaps, with fierce grimace,His fingers in the other's face.A duelmustresult.A Frenchman's honour 'twould disgraceTo bear with such insult.
Ma foi!They'll surely come to blows,
For one has tweaked the other's nose,
Who quickly snaps, with fierce grimace,
His fingers in the other's face.
A duelmustresult.
A Frenchman's honour 'twould disgrace
To bear with such insult.
"Pistols for two!"—in French,—they cry.Nannette to come between doth fly:"Messieurs! Messieurs!pray,praybe calm!You fill your Nannette with alarm.""Parole d'honneur!No.Revenge!" they cry. The big gendarme,Nannette to call, doth go.
"Pistols for two!"—in French,—they cry.
Nannette to come between doth fly:
"Messieurs! Messieurs!pray,praybe calm!
You fill your Nannette with alarm."
"Parole d'honneur!No.
Revenge!" they cry. The big gendarme,
Nannette to call, doth go.
Quickly a crowd has gathered round,Pistols are brought, and seconds found;A grassy space beneath the trees,Where gentlemen may fight at ease;Then, each takes off his coat—Glaring meanwhile as though he'd seizeThe other by the throat.
Quickly a crowd has gathered round,
Pistols are brought, and seconds found;
A grassy space beneath the trees,
Where gentlemen may fight at ease;
Then, each takes off his coat—
Glaring meanwhile as though he'd seize
The other by the throat.
The seconds shrug, gesticulate,And pace the ground with step sedate;Then anxious consultation holdO'er pistols, for the rivals boldWho now stand white and stern;Their arms across their chests they fold,And sideways each doth turn.
The seconds shrug, gesticulate,
And pace the ground with step sedate;
Then anxious consultation hold
O'er pistols, for the rivals bold
Who now stand white and stern;
Their arms across their chests they fold,
And sideways each doth turn.
The seconds place themvis-à-vis,And give them word to fire at "three";Brave Monsieur Mallette shuts his eyes,And points his pistol to the skies;Brave Monsieur DelapaireHis hand to steady vainly tries,It trembles in the air.
The seconds place themvis-à-vis,
And give them word to fire at "three";
Brave Monsieur Mallette shuts his eyes,
And points his pistol to the skies;
Brave Monsieur Delapaire
His hand to steady vainly tries,
It trembles in the air.
A deadly silence: "Un—deux—trois!"Two shots are ringing through theBois.Two shots,—and then two awful calms;As, senseless, in their seconds' armsThe duellists both lay.(Their faces pale the crowd alarms,And fills them with dismay.)
A deadly silence: "Un—deux—trois!"Two shots are ringing through theBois.Two shots,—and then two awful calms;As, senseless, in their seconds' armsThe duellists both lay.(Their faces pale the crowd alarms,And fills them with dismay.)
A deadly silence: "Un—deux—trois!"Two shots are ringing through theBois.Two shots,—and then two awful calms;As, senseless, in their seconds' armsThe duellists both lay.(Their faces pale the crowd alarms,And fills them with dismay.)
A deadly silence: "Un—deux—trois!"
Two shots are ringing through theBois.
Two shots,—and then two awful calms;
As, senseless, in their seconds' arms
The duellists both lay.
(Their faces pale the crowd alarms,
And fills them with dismay.)
"Killed?" Goodness gracious—oh, dearno!This couldn't be,—in France,—you know,For pistolstherethey never load.Butcapswere they which did explode:They've only swooned with fright.See! one some signs of life has showed;The crowd claps with delight.They both revive. They both embrace.Twice kiss each other on the face.* * *"Stay! Hold!" you cry. "You said, I thought,La belleNannette the gendarme sought?"She did,—la belleNannette,—She sought, and found him—charming quite.She stays there with him yet.She "never cared for Delapaire,"She says with mostdégagéair;And "as for Monsieur Mallette,—well,Hemaydiscover—who can tell?—Someoneto marry yet."Meanwhilele gendarme pour la belle,The fickle, fair Nannette.
"Killed?" Goodness gracious—oh, dearno!This couldn't be,—in France,—you know,For pistolstherethey never load.Butcapswere they which did explode:They've only swooned with fright.See! one some signs of life has showed;The crowd claps with delight.They both revive. They both embrace.Twice kiss each other on the face.* * *"Stay! Hold!" you cry. "You said, I thought,La belleNannette the gendarme sought?"She did,—la belleNannette,—She sought, and found him—charming quite.She stays there with him yet.She "never cared for Delapaire,"She says with mostdégagéair;And "as for Monsieur Mallette,—well,Hemaydiscover—who can tell?—Someoneto marry yet."Meanwhilele gendarme pour la belle,The fickle, fair Nannette.
"Killed?" Goodness gracious—oh, dearno!This couldn't be,—in France,—you know,For pistolstherethey never load.Butcapswere they which did explode:They've only swooned with fright.See! one some signs of life has showed;The crowd claps with delight.They both revive. They both embrace.Twice kiss each other on the face.
"Killed?" Goodness gracious—oh, dearno!
This couldn't be,—in France,—you know,
For pistolstherethey never load.
Butcapswere they which did explode:
They've only swooned with fright.
See! one some signs of life has showed;
The crowd claps with delight.
They both revive. They both embrace.
Twice kiss each other on the face.
* * *
* * *
"Stay! Hold!" you cry. "You said, I thought,La belleNannette the gendarme sought?"She did,—la belleNannette,—She sought, and found him—charming quite.She stays there with him yet.
"Stay! Hold!" you cry. "You said, I thought,
La belleNannette the gendarme sought?"
She did,—la belleNannette,—
She sought, and found him—charming quite.
She stays there with him yet.
She "never cared for Delapaire,"She says with mostdégagéair;And "as for Monsieur Mallette,—well,Hemaydiscover—who can tell?—Someoneto marry yet."Meanwhilele gendarme pour la belle,The fickle, fair Nannette.
She "never cared for Delapaire,"
She says with mostdégagéair;
And "as for Monsieur Mallette,—well,
Hemaydiscover—who can tell?—
Someoneto marry yet."
Meanwhilele gendarme pour la belle,
The fickle, fair Nannette.