Lab. You heard, Marquez?

Mar. And knew before I heard.

Lab. And you are patient?

Mar. Maximilian
Means France, and France we must keep ours,—at least
Till we have finished with the Liberals,—

Lab. And then?

Mar. We need not go so far to make
A wiser choice.

Lab. (Looking at him meaningly)
Not far indeed!

Mar. I thank you.
But that’s hereafter. Come with me, your grace.
I ’d speak of something more immediate.

(Exeunt left)

(Enter from ballroom General Miramon, Marshal Bazaine and Colonel Dupin, the last a large, vain, blustering man, gorgeously and expensively arrayed from head to foot. A sombrero wonderfully trimmed with gold and silver is carried in his hand and used in sweeping salutations)