(Eenter Ange Pitou.)

Finale.

"Dear enemy whom I ought to detest,
To punish whom I ought to do my best,
I must confess—since there's no use in feigning,
My yielding heart, forgetting its disdaining,
Now humbly prays, to Belleville you will go
At nine to-night, at the Ball of Calypso;
There a fond and faithful damsel you will meet
Who treads all former quarrels 'neath her feet."

Lange.

And. is that signed?

Ange Pitou (shewing letter.)

The name is thine!
page 25

Lange.

Then 'tis forged—I'm betrayed.

Ange Pitou.

May be so ! but the letter and its messages are mine.

Lange.

But hear the other—(reading)—
"I know I'm silly in yielding to passion
Without e'en hope or joy to cheer me on;
But then I love you with such adoration
That for me, without you, pleasure life has really none.
There is a place close by your gates, quite free from noise or city riot,
A little ball, select and quiet;
There you can go,
Incognito,
Dressed like a woman of the market
And we'll meet in groves so dark it
'Twill ne'er be known that we did so.
You whom this heart doth fondly cherish.
Yes; you alone decide my fate.
If you delay I'll surely perish,
And when you come 'twill be too late."

Ange Pitou.

This really is enough to drive one mad. It is too bad.

Lange.

'Tis signed "Ange Pitou!"

(a due)

What shall we do now?
This meeting we shall rue now.

Lange.

Let's fly : there's time to say no more.

Ange Pitou.

Fly! oh! say why?
See you not 'tis ?
Who love, nay, who adore but thee,
And woe to him who shall my rival be.

Omnes.

(coming forward.) Ha! ha! ha!
Your secret's known,
To all the winds of Heaven 'tis blown.

Ange Pitou.

The one who stays me shall repent
That o'er he stand—

Clair. (appearing.)

I am that one.

Omnes.

Clairetta!

(Quarrel Scene.)

So then 'tis you, fine Madame Bubble,
Who makes all this toil and trouble;
Tho' of lovers you have two,
One very old and one not new;
page 26 But it you had of beaux a score
I do believe you'd cry for more.
This one you're welcome for to hug
Since you're so taken with his mug,
Although he did belong to me,
Yet you may have him, do you see
I make you a present of this chap,
For I don't value him a rap.
One old, one middle-ged, and one a boy makes three.
So with your triple lovers may you happy be.

Cho.

Hurrah ! she and no other
Could give it to her so;
True daughter of her mother,
Pitch in Ma'am'selle Angôt.

Lange.

Oh! what a gentle simple maid;
I'm really very much afraid
That for a lady, fine as she,
We arc not fit society.
Such choice and pretty flow'rs of speech
Are not in ev'rybody's reach.
So, in accomplishments so rare,
I'm sure with you I can't compare.
But, next time, if you'd keep your sweetheart,
Don't let him my features see;
Or you'll find 'twill be indeed hard
To keep him off from spooning me.
A nod's as good's a wink To a blind
horse, so they say;
So go home, and be wiser for another day.

Lariv.

Ah ! 'tis too much. To brave me thus you dare.

Lange.

Good gracious me; 'tis he!

Lariv.

Yes; 'tis Larivaudière!

Lange.

Ha ! ha ! ha !

Cho.

Ha ! ha ! ha !

Lariv.

Rage and anger chokes me quite;
Faithless woman, I know all;
But be sure, this very night
Vengeance on your heads shall fall.

Ange Pitou.

You keep quiet.
All this riot
Will not mend affairs one bit.
Dry up talking,
Off be walking,
Or your head I'll surely split.

page 27

(Ensemble.)

Yes, my dear, you
Need not fear to
Of my lover me deprive;
For I tell you
Such a fellow

Lange.

Will lead you an awful life.
Oh ! my dear, I
Really fear I
Of your lover you deprive;
Such a fellow,
I must toll you,
Is not often met in life.

Ange Pitou.

Pray keep quiet,
All this riot
Will not mend affairs one bit—
Dry up talking,
Off be walking,

Pom.

Or your head I'll surely split.
Let them go it,
For I know it,
All their anger will have died
In a minute;
All this din it
Into silence will subside.

Lariv.

'Tis past joking,
I am choking;
Tremble ! for I all do know.
Vengeance dread now,
On your head now
My great rage will surely flow.

Chor.

Come, keep quiet,
All this riot
Will not mend affairs one bit.
Dry up talking,
Off' be walking,
Or your head will surely split.

Clair.

We've had enough of all this scandal.
Lange! here's my hand!

Lange.

After such a fight?

Clair.

Don't give our enemies a handle,
We've had it out, so don't keep spite.

Lange.

All right!

Lariv.

But this aint right.
page 28

Clair.

Be quiet ! If to speak you dare
I'll split on that little affair
Which I found out last night.

Lange.

Come then, your sister now be greeting,
I here propose a merry meeting;
What say you, my dear friends?

Omnes.

Ah! yes, indeed, we're all your friends.

Pom. (seeing Clairette weep).

What's this? surely she is weeping.

Clair.

I ! No.

Pom.

Yes! yes, indeed 'tis so.

Omnes.

Why are you weeping?

Clair.

No 'tis nothing.

Ange Pitou.

If one, repenting, could but show you,
If to your side I dared to creep.

Clair.

Ah! no, indeed you do not know me,
'Tis not for such as you I'd weep.
Oh! yes indeed I'm sorry,
And weep to think it true
That e'er I thought to marry
A nincompoop like you.
If I my hand should offer now
To worthy Pomponnet,
He would refuse the proffer now
And turn from me away.

Pom.

Only try me,
Don't deny me,
I know' when I am well off;
I will take you,
And will make you
One at whom no tongue dare scoff.

Omnes.

Don't delay now,
But to-day now,
Trust me, it is better so,
That the padlock
Firm, of wedlock
Should make fast Ma'amselle Angôt.

Ange Pitou.

It has not ended
As I intended,
But perhaps 'tis better so;
Time will show.

Lange.

So now all troubles over,
Each take partners for the dance.
page 29

Pom.

Yes, let us have a wedding,
To show how we do in France.

Lange.

But where's the bride ?

Clair.

Where? Here!
Yes ! of Ma'am Angôt
I'm the true daughter,
My blood can't run slow
Like cold water.
Look at me and you'll know
That Pm Ma'amselle Angôt.

Chorus and Characters.

Yes Ma'am Angôt
She's the true daughter,
Her Mood can't run slow
Like cold water.
Ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! ho !
Hurrah for Ma'amselle Angôt!