SCENE X.

PRESTO, VIVATCHE.

For he is.

Very clement Prince, to what torture?
Do you destine your rival?

Yes, I come to my grand Seneschal,
I have just ordered that he endure

An original torture.
To divert myself, I command
Executioners of song, that the culprit hear,
During his meals only,
Every day the charming concert
That will be formed by false and discordant voices,
Out of tune and screeching,
And sharp whistles for accompaniment.
If I punish my rival gently,
It is because my taste for Célénie
Is weak: but by this, I wish adroitly,
In her whom I ardently love,
In the heart of Melophanie
To reignite more vividly
The warmth of sentiment.

That is thinking, that is speaking with great precision.
On my side, my art must help you;
And while in passing you may excess
For your trivial pleasures Durbin and his mistress,
I can gaily second you
By pulling from their lethargy
That sad Henriette and her gloomy squire;