The Plot Against the Giant

                 First Girl 
When this yokel comes maundering, 
Whetting his hacker, 
I shall run before him, 
Diffusing the civilest odors 
Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers. 
It will check him.

                 Second Girl 
I shall run before him, 
Arching cloths besprinkled with colors 
As small as fish-eggs. 
The threads 
Will abash him.

                 Third Girl 
Oh, la … le pauvre! 
I shall run before him, 
With a curious puffing. 
He will bend his ear then. 
I shall whisper 
Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals. 
It will undo him.