I'll dismount! Like your slave, I will lead your palfrey!
[Hands her his riding-whip, and dismounts.
There now, my rosebud, you exquisite flower!
Here I'll go trudging my way through the sand,
Till a sunstroke o'ertakes me and finishes me.
I'm young, Anitra; bear that in mind!
You mustn't be shocked at my escapades.
Frolics and high-jinks are youth's sole criterion!
And so, if your intellect weren't so dense,
You would see at a glance, oh my fair oleander,—
Your lover is frolicsome—ergo, he's young!
Anitra.
Yes, you are young. Have you any more rings?
Peer.
Am I not? There, grab! I can leap like a buck!
Were there vine-leaves around, I would garland my brow.
To be sure I am young! Hei, I'm going to dance!
[Dances and sings.
I am a blissful game-cock!
Peck me, my little pullet!
Hop-sa-sa! Let me trip it;—
I am a blissful game-cock!
Anitra.
You are sweating, my prophet; I fear you will melt;—
Hand me that heavy bag hung at your belt.
Peer.
Tender solicitude! Bear the purse ever;—
Hearts than can love are content without gold!
[Dances and sings again.
