Cee)

Descending then they take their meal, these loving ones, together,
And chat about all kinds of things—of politics, of weather.

And now again their thoughts revert unto the room forbidden :

‘I’m sure,’ said Annie, ‘all ain’t right ; there’s something wrong there hidden.
If I was you I'd let him know I was not wanting spirit ;

He confidence should give to gain, if he my love would merit.

A husband’s duty to a wife is ever to be trusting.

No doubt the rooms are in a mess, and only want a dusting ;

He means to have them set to rights before he takes you in, dear.
Suppose we tidy them ourselves, and thus his thanks may win, dear!
And should you chance to vex him thus—you, darling, with a smile
Shall pop your arm around his neck, and anger thus beguile.’

But Fatima she shook her head, his accents stern she’s minding ;
’Gainst his dark looks and threat’ning words there really is no blinding.
- But soon her scruples are o’ercome ; they seek the second story,

And pause before the green-baize door whose nails spell ‘ Lab’ratory.’
A gentle touch—it open glides—and just as softly closes.

There’s nothing to remark inside except a smell of roses.

His arms and coats of mail are there, all ready bright for wearing ;
The ladies find no buttons loose, but think they may want airing.
But Annie lifts a curtain now, and reckless she proceeds,

Though on the door in Bluebeard’s hand she ‘Strictly Private’ reads.
‘And now we've found the fellow out—his chemicals forsooth !|—
This is his renovating room, if I must speak the truth :

Here is a wig of just the style in which he has appeared,

And, I declare, here is the dye with which he stains his beard !

And look here, Fatima, my love, I never did suppose—

Have you had reason, dear, to think he wore a made-up nose?’

Poor Fatima nigh fainted here, but she deserved her fate :

‘Oh, sister Ann, I must confess he waxy looked of late.’

‘ And here’s a bottle full of eyes! I’m sure he’s lost a left one.

And here’s his other set of teeth !—now isn’t he a deft one?’

‘Oh, Annie dear, I’ve marked his eye fix’d with a kind of stare,

But, really me, I only read his admiration there.’