PANTOMIME.PIERROT, no sentimental swain,Washes a pâté down againWith furtive flagons, white and red.Cassandre, to chasten his content,Greets with a tear of sentimentHis nephew disinherited.That blackguard of a HarlequinPirouettes, and plots to winHis Colombine that flits and flies.Colombine dreams, and starts to findA sad heart sighing in the wind,And in her heart a voice that sighs.
PIERROT, no sentimental swain,Washes a pâté down againWith furtive flagons, white and red.
Cassandre, to chasten his content,Greets with a tear of sentimentHis nephew disinherited.
That blackguard of a HarlequinPirouettes, and plots to winHis Colombine that flits and flies.
Colombine dreams, and starts to findA sad heart sighing in the wind,And in her heart a voice that sighs.