CUPID (warming his hands)

But, you see,
Girls never mind a little chap like me.
They're always watching for me on the sly,
And hoping I will call.

MAID (haughtily)

Indeed, not I!
My heart has listened to a sweeter voice,
A clarion call that gives command--not choice.
And I have answered to that call, 'I come';
To other voices shall my ears be dumb.
To art alone I consecrate my life -
Art is my spouse, and I his willing wife.

CUPID (slowly, gazing in the grate)

Art is a sultan, and you must divide
His love with many another ill-fed bride.
Now I know one who worships you alone.

MAID (impatiently)

I will not listen! for the dice is thrown
And art has won me. On my brow some day
Shall rest the laurel wreath--