A strange, odd, faithful, loving, timid knave;
More dog than man, and, like a well-thrashed hound,
He loves his master's voice, and dreads it, too.
Why, here he is! (In intense astonishment.)
Lut. Who is this insolent,
A mortal here in fairy land?
Log. Yes, two!
Lut. Oh, this is outrage!
Eth. (crossing to him). Why, thou scurvy knave,
How cam'st thou here? Thou didst not come with us!
What is the meaning of this masquerade?
Be off at once; if I could use my arm,
I'd whip thee for this freak, but as it is,
I'll hand thee over to that wife of thine;
Her hand is heavier than mine. (To Sel.) This churl
(So rumor saith) is mated to a shrew;
A handsome, ranting, jealous, clacking shrew;
And he, by means of this tom-fool disguise,
Has 'scaped his home to play the truant here;
Lut. Who are these men?
Sel. The mortal counterparts
Of Ethais and Phyllon. Look at them! (Crosses to Lutin.)
Dost thou not love them?
Lut. (indignantly). No!
Sel. How very strange!
Why we all loved them from the very first.
