Florette (has listened to the trouvere with increasing astonishment, she passes her two hands over her forehead and says in a tremulous voice)—"Am I dreaming? Is it yourself who ask me whether I would follow you? Whether I would consent to be your wife?"
Mylio (kneels down before the young serf, takes her two hands and answers passionately)—"Yes, sweet child. It is myself who am saying to you: 'Come, you shall be my wife! Will you be Mylio's?'"
Florette—"Whether I will? To leave hell for paradise? Yes, I consent to follow you!"
Mylio (rises and listens in the direction of the hedge)—"It is the voice of Goose-Skin! He is calling for help! What can have happened!"
Florette (clasping her hands in despair)—"Oh! I knew it! It was a dream!"
Mylio (draws his sword and takes the girl's hand)—"Follow me, dear child; fear nothing. Mylio will know how to defend you."
The trouvere walks rapidly towards the hedge, holding Florette by the hand. The cries of Goose-Skin redouble in the measure that Mylio approaches the hedge that surrounds the garden of the mill, and behind which he causes Florette to conceal herself with the recommendation that she remain silent and motionless. He then leaps over the enclosure, and by the light of the moon he perceives the juggler puffing and blowing and wrestling with a man whose face is concealed under the hood of his brown cloak. At the sight of Mylio running to his help, Goose-Skin redoubles his efforts and succeeds in throwing his adversary down. Turning thereupon his own enormous weight to account, and thereby easily keeping the hooded man under him, the juggler, who is now out of breath with the struggle, lays himself face down, flat upon his adversary, who, feeling himself crushed under the extraordinary weight, gasps in a rage: "Wretch—vagabond—to—smother—me!"
Goose-Skin (panting for breath)—"Ouf! After victory how delightful, how glorious to rest on one's laurels! Victory! Victory, Mylio! The monster is overcome!"
The Hooded Man—"I die—under—this mountain of flesh! Help! Help!—I die—Help!"
Mylio—"My old Goose-Skin, I shall never forget the service that you have rendered me. Do not move. Keep that fellow down! Do not allow him to rise and flee."