They all take out their tablets and begin to write. At the end of five minutes Madeleine tells them to stop.
‘I have taken the first as my model,’ says Sappho, ‘and indeed I have altered it only very slightly.’ The company begs to hear it.
‘No commandment of a lady is too difficult for an homme galant to obey, for to him every lady is full of grace, and this grace inspires him with powers more than human.’
Every one applauds, and expresses their appreciation of her wit.
‘And now,’ says Madeleine, ‘that our appetite has been so deliciously whetted—if I may use the expression—by Sappho, have the rest of the company got their ragoûts ready?’
Doralise looks at Théodamas, and Théodamas at Philoxène, and they laugh.
‘Mademoiselle, blindness is the penalty for looking on a goddess, and dumbness, I suppose, that of listening to two Muses. We are unable to pay our forfeits,’ says Théodamas, with a rueful smile.
‘Will not Mademoiselle rescue the Sorbonne galante from ignominy, and herself supply the missing propositions?’ says Sappho, throwing at Madeleine a glance, at once arch and challenging.
‘Yes! Yes!’ cries the company, ‘let the learned doctor herself compile the theology of Cupid!’
‘When Sappho commands, even the doctors of the Sorbonne obey,’ says Madeleine gallantly. ‘Well, then, I will go on to the second proposition in which I will change nothing but one word. “That in the state of fallen nature, man never resists the external grace.”’ The company laughs delightedly.