I am glad of it.
(A bag-pipe air, and Montfleury appears, a very powerful man in a poetic shepherd's dress: his hat ornamented with roses and his bag-pipe with ribbons.)
THE PIT (applauding).
Bravo, Montfleury! Montfleury!
MONTFLEURY (after bowing, begins his part of Phédon).
"Oh! happy he who far from courts, in solitude,[7]
Self-banished, has cast off the chains of servitude,
And who, when zephyr sighs and rustles through the leaves...."
A VOICE IN THE PIT.
You rascal, did I not suspend you for a month?
(Astonishment. Everybody eager to see who spoke. Murmurs.)
SEVERAL OF THE AUDIENCE.