[Scene: A stage] [The curtain rises on a stage set for a Harlequinade, a merry black and white interior. Directly behind the footlights, and running parallel with them, is a long table, covered with a gay black and white cloth, on which is spread a banquet. At the opposite ends of this table, seated on delicate thin-legged chairs with high backs, are Pierrot and Columbine, dressed according to the tradition, excepting that Pierrot is in lilac, and Columbine in pink. They are dining.] COLUMBINE: Pierrot, a macaroon! I cannot live without a macaroon! PIERROT: My only love, You are so intense! . . . Is it Tuesday, Columbine?- I'll kiss you if it's Tuesday. COLUMBINE: It is Wednesday, If you must know . . . . Is this my artichoke, Or yours? PIERROT: Ah, Columbine, -as if it mattered! Wednesday . . . . Will it be Tuesday, then, to-morrow, By any chance? COLUMBINE: To-morrow will be-Pierrot, That isn't funny! PIERROT: I thought it rather nice. Well, let us drink some wine and lose our heads And love each other. COLUMBINE: Pierrot, don't you love Me now? PIERROT: La, what a woman!-how should I know? Pour me some wine: I'll tell you presently. COLUMBINE: Pierrot, do you know, I think you drink too much. PIERROT: Yes, I dare say I do. . . . Or else too little. It's hard to tell. You see, I am always wanting A little more than what I have, -or else A little less. There's something wrong. My dear, How many fingers have you? COLUMBINE: La, indeed, How should I know?-It always takes me one hand To count the other with. It's too confusing. Why? PIERROT: Why?-I am a student, Columbine; And search into all matters. COLUMBINE: La, indeed?- Count them yourself, then!