"Thank God, I am not married."
"Then to yourself, and if you do not go in—" cried Joyeuse, advancing with a menacing air.
"Ventre de biche! but if the music be for me—"
"Old fool!" growled Joyeuse. "If you do not go in and hide your ugly face they shall break their instruments over your head."
"Let the man alone, brother," said Henri, "the fact is, he must be very much astonished."
"Oh! but if we get up a quarrel, perhaps she will look to see what is the matter; we will burn his house down, if necessary."
"No, for pity's sake, brother, do not let us force her attention; we are beaten, and must submit."
Chicot, who heard all, was mentally preparing the means of defense, but Joyeuse yielded to his brother's request, and dismissed the pages and musicians.
Then he said to his brother, "I am in despair; all conspires against us."
"What do you mean?"