(_They enter the Chalet_)
You are as changing, child,--as men.
NINON
But are they? Is it true, I mean?
Who said it?
NINETTE
Sister Seraphine.
She was so pious and so good,
With such sad eyes beneath her hood,
And such poor little feet,--all bare!
Her name was Eugenie la Fere.
She used to tell us,--moonlight nights,--
When I was at the Carmelites.
NINON
Ah, then it must be right. And yet,
Suppose for once--suppose, Ninette--
NINETTE
But what?
NINON
Suppose it were not so?
Suppose there _were_ true men, you know!
NINETTE
And then?
NINON
Why, if that _could_ occur,
What kind of men should you prefer?
NINETTE
What looks, you mean?
NINON
Looks, voice and all.
NINETTE
Well, as to that, he must be tall,
Or say, not "tall"--of middle size;
And next, he must have laughing eyes;
And a hook-nose,--with, underneath,
Oh! what a row of sparkling teeth!
NINON (_touching her cheek suspiciously_)
Has he a scar on this side?
NINETTE
Hush!
Some one is coming. No; a thrush:
I see it swinging there.
NINON
Go on.
NINETTE
Then he must fence (ah, look, 'tis gone!)
And dance like Monseigneur, and sing
"Love was a Shepherd,"--everything
That men do.
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