Count._ What does that matter to you? What do you understand about it?

_Crispino._ [_Hammering._] Who knows who knows most?

_Geltrude._ You called me, Count?

_Count._ You a lady of taste, oh, if you heard what I have just read! A
masterpiece!

_Geltrude._ Something historical?

_Count._ Bah!

_Geltrude._ A philosophical discussion?

_Count._ Bah!

_Geltrude._ A poem?

_Count._ Bah!

_Geltrude._ What then?

_Count._ Something astonishing, unheard of, translated from the French!
A fable.

_Crispino._ A fable! Astonishing! Unheard of! [_He hammers hard._]

_Count._ Would you like to hear?

_Geltrude._ Gladly.

_Crispino._ Why, he reads fables like little children! [_Hammers._]

_Count._ Will you at last leave off your noise?

_Crispino._ [_Hammering on._] I am putting a patch on your shoe.

[Timoteo _pestles._]

_Count._ The devil's own noise! And you too?

_Timoteo._ [_Puts his head outside the pharmacy._] It is my business.

_Count._ [_Reads._] "There was once a lovely maiden"--[_To_ Timoteo.] Go
to the devil with your mortar! It is not to be borne.

_Timoteo._ I pay my rent, and have no better place in which to pound.
[_Goes on._]

_Count._ If you will allow, signora, I will take the liberty of coming
up to you. You will then hear the beautiful fable. [_Goes into the
house._]

_Geltrude._ This chemist is too tiresome. Let us go and receive the
Count.

_Candida._ I don't care to hear his fables.

_Geltrude._ But good manners demand it.

_Candida._ Out upon this Count!

_Geltrude._ Niece, honour that you may be honoured. Come. [_She goes
into the house._]

_Candida._ [_Rising to follow her._] To please you.

SCENE IV.

_The above without the_ Count _and_ Geltrude. Evarist _and_ Susanna
_come out of the shop._

_Candida._ What! Signor Evarist still here? Not gone shooting? I should
like to know the reason. [_Watches him from the back of the terrace._]

_Susanna._ Do not complain, sir, the fan is cheap.

_Evarist._ [_Aside._] Candida is no longer here. [_Aloud._] I am sorry
that the fan is not more beautiful.

_Susanna._ That was the last of those of the first quality. Now my shop
is emptied. [_Smiling._] I suppose it is a present?

_Evarist._ Certainly. I do not buy fans for myself.

_Susanna._ For Signorina Candida, because hers broke?

_Evarist._ [_Impatiently._] No; for some one else.

_Susanna._ All right, all right. I am not curious. [_Reseats herself in
front