FANTOCHES.

SCARAMOUCHE waves a threatening hand To Pulcinella, and they stand, Two shadows, black against the moon.

The old doctor of Bologna pries For simples with impassive eyes, And mutters o'er a magic rune.

The while his daughter, scarce half-dressed, Glides slyly 'neath the trees, in quest Of her bold pirate lover's sail;

Her pirate from the Spanish main, Whose passion thrills her in the pain Of the loud languorous nightingale.