BERGAMIN. [Trying to go to the wall again] I can't control myself. Just let me—! [PERCINET takes him out.]
PASQUINOT. [Also trying to return to the wall] I'll kill him!
SYLVETTE. [Dragging PASQUINOT out] The air is so damp! Think of your rheumatism! [They go out.]
[Little by little it grows dark. For a moment the stage is empty. Then, in PASQUINOT's park, enter STRAFOREL and swordsmen, musicians, and torch-bearers.]
STRAFOREL. I see one star already. The day is dying. [He places his men about the stage.] Stay there—you there—and you there. The hour is near. You will see, as the clock strikes eight, a figure in white enter on this side. Then I whistle—[He looks at the sky again.] The moon? Splendid! Every effect is perfect to-night! [Examining the costumes of his band] The capes and mantles are excellent. Look a little more dangerous, over there! Now, ready? [A sedan-chair is brought in.] The chair over there in the shade. [Seeing the negroes who carry the chair] The negroes are good! [Speaking at a distance] Torches, there, you understand you are not to come until you receive the signal? [The faint reflection of the torches is seen at the back of the stage, through the underbrush. Enter the musicians.] Musicians? There— at the back. Now, a little distinction and life! Vary your poses from time to time. Stand straight, mandolin! Sit down, alto! There. [Severely to a swordsman] You, first mask, don't look so harmless—I want a villainous slouch! Good! Now, instruments, play softly—tune up! Good—tra la la! [He puts on his mask.]
[PERCINET enters slowly from the other side of the stage. As he speaks the following lines, the stage becomes darker, until at the end, it is night.]
PERCINET. My father is calmer now. The day is dying, and the intoxicating odor of the elders is wafted to me; the flowers close their petals in the gray of the evening—
STRAFOREL. [Aside to the violins] Music!
[The musicians play softly until the end of the act.]
PERCINET. I tremble like a reed. She is coming!