No More Learning

"You, great lady--and I, Count--
Come, my heart has opened quite,
We this tale will still recount,
To the stars that shine at night. "

The melody went on some moments more
Among the trees the calm moon glistened o'er,
Then trembled and was hushed; the voice's thrill
Stopped like alighting birds, and all was still.

XII.

GREAT JOSS AND LITTLE ZENO.

Quite suddenly there showed across the door,
Three heads which all a festive aspect wore.
Two men were there; and, dressed in cloth of gold,
A woman. Of the men one might have told
Some thirty years, the other younger seemed,
Was tall and fair, and from his shoulder gleamed
A gay guitar with ivy leaves enlaced.
The other man was dark, but pallid-faced
And small. At the first glance they seemed to be
But made of perfume and frivolity.
Handsome they were, but through their comely mien
A grinning demon might be clearly seen.
April has flowers where lurk the slugs between.

"Big Joss and little Zeno, pray come here;
Look now--how dreadful! can I help but fear! "
Madame Mahaud was speaker. Moonlight there
Caressingly enhanced her beauty rare,
Making it shine and tremble, as if she
So soft and gentle were of things that be
Of air created, and are brought and ta'en
By heavenly flashes.
Now, she spoke again
"Certes, 'tis heavy purchase of a throne,
To pass the night here utterly alone.
Had you not slyly come to guard me now,
I should have died of fright outright I know. "
The moonbeams through the open door did fall,
And shine upon the figure next the wall.

Said Zeno, "If I played the Marquis part,
I'd send this rubbish to the auction mart;
Out of the heap should come the finest wine,
Pleasure and gala-fetes, were it all mine. "
And then with scornful hand he touched the thing,
And made the metal like a soul's cry ring.
He laughed--the gauntlet trembled at his stroke.
"Let rest my ancestors"--'twas Mahaud spoke;
Then murmuring added she, "For you are much
Too small their noble armor here to touch. "

And Zeno paled, but Joss with laugh exclaimed,
"Why, all these good black men so grandly named
Are only nests for mice. By Jove, although
They lifelike look and terrible, we know
What is within; just listen, and you'll hear
The vermins' gnawing teeth, yet 'twould appear
These figures once were proudly named Otho,
And Ottocar, and Bela, and Plato.
Alas! the end's not pleasant--puts one out;
To have been kings and dukes--made mighty rout--
Colossal heroes filling tombs with slain,
And, Madame, this to only now remain;
A peaceful nibbling rat to calmly pierce
A prince's noble armor proud and fierce. "

"Sing, if you will--but do not speak so loud;
Besides, such things as these," said fair Mahaud,
"In your condition are not understood. "
"Well said," made answer Zeno, "'tis a place
Of wonders--I see serpents, and can trace
Vampires, and monsters swarming, that arise
In mist, through chinks, to meet the gazer's eyes. "

Then Mahaud shuddered, and she said: "The wine
The Abbe made me drink as task of mine,
Will soon enwrap me in the soundest sleep--
Swear not to leave me--that you here will keep. "
"I swear," cried Joss, and Zeno, "I also;
But now at once to supper let us go. "

XIII.