The day is warm.
[He raises the glass to his lips. Laughter and voices
from the winding garden paths.
What’s that?
Grégoire (shrugging)
More guests, no doubt!
The count, the vidame, and the young marquise!
All Morbihan felicitates Morbec,
And brings our baron bonbons and bouquets,
As if there were no hunger and no frost!