THE ACTOR. It has been decided upon! Old man, where’s the town—where are you?
SATINE. Fata Morgana, the old man bilked you from top to bottom! There’s nothing—no towns—no people—nothing at all!
THE ACTOR. You lie!
THE TARTAR [jumping up] Where’s the boss? I’m going to the boss. If I can’t sleep, I won’t pay! Corpses—drunkards . . . [Exit quickly]
[Satine looks after him and whistles.]
BUBNOFF [in a sleepy voice] Go to bed, boys—be quiet . . . night is for sleep . . .
THE ACTOR. Yes—so—there’s a corpse here. . . . “Our net fished up a corpse. . . .” Verses—by Béranger. . . .
SATINE [screams] The dead can’t hear . . . the dead do not feel—Scream!—Roar! . . . the dead don’t hear!
[In the doorway appears Luka.]
CURTAIN.