ounced on programmes as

VENGEANCE FOREGONE!

(_You should have an ordinary wooden elbow-chair and a print
wrapper within easy reach. Come on crouching, with
an air of tigerish anticipation._)

'Tis he! Can I mistake the clustered curls
Upon his hated hyacinthine head?
Have they not wiled from me the fickle heart
Of perjured BANDOLINA! There, he stands
Before my window, where a winsome form,
Rotating slow with measured self-display,
Has caught his errant eye. Now, demi-siren,

[_Hands extended in passionate invocation._

Make languorous those lustrous crystal orbs!
Wreathe, waxen arms, and lure him in, to me!
So--once again!--he falters--he is Mine!

[_Savage exultation, with eyebrows._

Let me be calm.

(_Self-restraint, indicated by violent heaving of
shirt-front._)

Good morning, Sir, to you.
I pray you--

(_With a forced sickly smile_)

--step within, and seat yourself.
I will attend you in a moment.

(_Hold open imaginary door; then resume soliloquy
in fierce undertone._)

... Trapped!
He knows me not.

(_With dark suspicion, which is easily conveyed by half
closing eyes and pressing knuckle of bent forefinger
against lower lip._)

Unless I be deceived,
No hazard freak of hooded Fortune's urn,

[_A nasty line for the "h"-less._

But BANDOLINA'S dainty insolence
Decreed this visit ... Ha! my victim calls!
I come anon. Sir

(_fawningly, with a side-glance of withering hate at your
chair._)

Patience, peevish worm!
Are you in such a hurry, then, to writhe?

[_Fierce aside._ (_Here you draw the chair forward, and,
placing yourself behind it, speak the following lines with easy
fluency, accompanied by such pantomime as may suggest itself
to you._)

I crave your pardon for my tardiness,--
Allow me to dispose these lendings--thus:

[_Here you shake out the wrapper._

This band above the elbows--tighter--so.
I do assure you, Sir, this is no gag--
'Tis but a poor contrivance of mine own
To guard the mouth against th' encroaching sud.
Refreshing, Sir, indeed, this change of weather!
But one more