Tityrus:—You would not understand, my dear.
—But you can explain it to me, said Angèle.
—Romam, insisted Melibœus.... Urbem quam dicunt Romam.
Angèle:—Oh, it sounds delicious! What does it mean?
Tityrus:—But my dear Angèle, I assure you it is not so delightful as it sounds; it means quite simply that he is going to Rome.
—Rome! said Angèle dreamily. Oh, I should love so much to see Rome!
Melibœus, resuming his flute, once more began to play his primæval melody, and at the sound, Angèle, in a passion of excitement, raised herself, stood up, drew near; and as Melibœus’ arm was bent to her hand, she took it, and thus the two together went on their way along the boulevard; further, further they went, gradually vanished from sight, and disappeared into the finality of the twilit dusk.
The crowd, now unbridled in its agitation, became more and more tumultuous. On all sides one heard the questions: What did he say?—What did he do?—Who was that woman?—And when, a few minutes later, the evening papers appeared, a furious curiosity swept over them like a cyclone, and it was suddenly divulged that the woman was Angèle, and that this Melibœus was a naked person who was going to Italy.
Then, all their curiosity having died down, the crowd streamed off like water flowing away and the main boulevards were deserted.
And Tityrus found himself alone, completely surrounded by the swamp.