So angry and heart-grieved, amidst tears and sobbings, scolded the poor beauty. The audience who took it all for part of the play, laughed at first, aye, and some amongst them were mischievous enough to enjoy their neighbour's domestic discomfort. When, however, they began to see that it was the veritable Marion herself, the worst of them lost their gaiety and stared astonished at the stage. But Adam, much as he was startled at first by this sudden apparition, quickly recovered himself, and cried loudly and undauntedly, "My good fellow-townsmen, this does not belong to our play; this woman fell suddenly in amongst us, and does not belong to our company at all. Let me entreat some of you to lead her away. You hear that she does not talk verse, like all the actors who have the honour of performing this most remarkable farce before your worthinesses!" Therewith, he took Marion gently by the hand, to lead her from the stage. But she shook herself free, and encouraged by the demand of some amount the spectators, that she should be permitted to remain, and fight for her own cause, cried, "Aye! and I _will_, I say too! and make you all the judges of whether I have not been badly played upon. It is true that I am naturally silent, but is it to be considered a fault, on my part, if I do what you men are always throwing in the teeth of us poor women, letting alone all useless chattering, and listening quietly to what my husband has to say?" "Marion is right." "Long live Marion! she shall speak again!" shouted the spectators, laughing, and waving her encouragement. "And," she continued, growing even more eloquent, "if I have no right to be here because I do not speak verses, I know enough and of the very best too! My husband, who slanders me now, wrote them on me himself before we were married; and you shall hear them that you may know how double-tongued he is, and what fair words he once had for my praise, although he now has only complaints." Therewith she stepped to the edge of the stage and sang the following verses, with a voice that threatened to desert her-- "Cheeks as red and eyes as dancing, Arms and necks like lilies glancing, You may find in Arras town. Hearts as soft and limbs as rounded, Forms with every grace surrounded, You may meet with, up and down! But with wisdom no one's blest, Like the maiden I love best!" A shout of laughter answered this strophe; some began to sing the _réfrain_ and others joined them. But a voice from the crowd asked, "But how can you prove, fair Marion, that this lady of whom he talks is not another than yourself?" "Listen again," cried Marion, "there is no doubt about it." Then she sang--