The Marquis In Pale Blue (likewise).
And we are almost beside ourself with admiration.
The Marquis in Pink.
What? Really dead?
The Painter (tauntingly).
Sir, you seem to be in doubt?
The Marquis in Pink.
Oh, dear man, how could you think it? I wished only to afford myself the rapture of seeing whether you had altogether freed us.
The Marquis in Pale Blue.
Yes, indeed, freed! For even although you hated him, you can never imagine how, in the chambers of this castle, he has trodden on our dignity.