_Lustucru_ (_still pacing the room_). Ho!
_Michel_. But since Moumouth refuses your hash, Father Lustucru, I think I shall taste it, to set Moumouth an example. It looks very nice.
_Lustucru_ (_alarmed_). Don't touch it, I beg of you.
_Michel_. Why not? Is there anything wrong in the hash?
_Lustucru_. No, certainly not; but what is prepared for a cat should not serve for a Christian. It is necessary to guard propriety, and not trifle with the dignity of human nature.
_Michel_. Very well; Moumouth may suit himself. But I can not believe your hash is so _very_ nice, or Moumouth would not have refused it.
_Lustucru_. Do not reflect on my hash, madame, because your Cat objects to it. Moumouth never _had_ good taste.
_Michel_. Humph! I suppose that is because he never took a fancy to _you_. _I_ think he has very good taste; he adores _me_.
[_They burst into duo, same as Act II. Tune_--"Dairy-maid am I." _Curtain falls on them highly irate._]
SCENE.--_Garden belonging to the_ Countess. Lustucru _enters with a large bag and heavy cane_.
_Lustucru_ (_meditatively_). At length my decision is made. Moumouth, the charming cat, shall go into this bag, and _I_, Lustucru, shall beat him to death. Ah! he shall not escape me again. Michel goes for a walk; I seize Moumouth; I tie him in this bag; and then--oh, then he shall die. I could fly for joy when I think of it. Michel will _not_ have her five hundred francs, and perhaps she will be discharged. Dearest Moumouth, how grateful I ought to be to you for bringing me such joy!
Tune--"Then you'll remember me." _Bohemian Girl_. Balfe.
When other cats and other pets Around me sweetly rove, When other objects dear to me, Appeal unto my love, At such times then will my heart, In joyful throbbing be, Turned thankfully to Moumouth dead: Oh! I'll remember thee-- Oh! I'll remember, I'll remember thee!
[_Exit_ Lustucru. _Enter almost immediately_ Michel _attired for a walk_.]
_Michel_. I thought I heard Lustucru here? Well, I was mistaken. I was going to leave Moumouth in his care--but no matter. Moumouth rests peacefully under yon lilac bush. Dear Cat, how sweet is his repose! I will sing softly as I go; so perchance in his dreams he may hear my song.