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GULDSTAD [slily].
With happy ending, doubtless!
FALK.
You're aware, No curtain falls but on a plighted pair.
Thus with the Trilogy's First Part we've reckoned; But now the poet's labour-throes begin; The Comedy of Troth-plight, Part the Second, Thro' five insipid Acts he has to spin, And of that staple, finally, compose Part Third,--or Wedlock's Tragedy, in prose.
GULDSTAD [smiling].
The poet's vein is catching, it would seem.
FALK.
Really? How so, pray?
GULDSTAD.
Since I also pore And ponder over a poetic scheme,-- [Mysteriously.
An actuality--and not a dream.
FALK.
And pray, who is the hero of your theme?
GULDSTAD.
I'll tell you that to-morrow--not before.
FALK.
It is yourself!
GULDSTAD.
You think me equal to it?
FALK.
I'm sure no other mortal man could do it.
But then the heroine? No city maid, I'll swear, but of the country, breathing balm?
GULDSTAD [lifting his finger].
Ah,--that's the point, and must not be betrayed!-- [Changing his tone.
Pray tell me your opinion of Miss Halm.
FALK.
O you're best able to p.r.o.nounce upon her; My voice can neither credit nor dishonour,-- [Smiling.
But just take care no mischief-maker blot This fine poetic scheme of which you talk.
Suppose I were so shameless as to balk The meditated climax of the plot?
GULDSTAD [good-naturedly].
Well, I would cry "Amen," and change my plan.
FALK.
What!
GULDSTAD.
Why, you see, you are a letter'd man; How monstrous were it if your skill'd design Were ruined by a bungler's hand like mine!
[Retires to the background.
FALK [in pa.s.sing, to LIND].
Yes, you were right; the merchant's really scheming The ruin of your new-won happiness.
LIND [aside to ANNA].
Now then you see, my doubting was not dreaming; We'll go this very moment and confess.
[They approach MRS. HALM, who is standing with Miss Jay by the house.
GULDSTAD [conversing with STIVER].
'Tis a fine evening.
STIVER.
Very likely,--when A man's disposed--
GULDSTAD [facetiously].
What, all not running smooth In true love's course?
STIVER.
Not that exactly--
FALK [coming up].
Then With your engagement?
STIVER.
That's about the truth.
FALK.
Hurrah! Your spendthrift pocket has a groat Or two still left, it seems, of poetry.
STIVER [stiffly].
I cannot see what poetry has got To do with my engagement, or with me.
FALK.
You are not meant to see; when lovers prove What love is, all is over with their love.
GULDSTAD [to STIVER].
But if there's matter for adjustment, pray Let's hear it.
STIVER.
I've been pondering all day Whether the thing is proper to disclose, But still the Ayes are balanced by the Noes.
FALK.
I'll right you in one sentence. Ever since As plighted lover you were first installed, You've felt yourself, if I may say so, galled--
STIVER.
And sometimes to the quick.
