Overseer. What's up? Come on with you!
The master waits,—burns like perdition! Come!
Come, all of you! The women too! Clear out!
[Drives them out. Famette slips into her hut. Chartrien joins the men and follows last with Coquriez. They stop left]
Coq. Won't see the show?
Cha. I'll not go on.
Coq. Come then.
I'll lock you up. [They turn back]
We'll have an early march
To-morrow, mate. Must hit the brush by dawn.
There's little sleep for me.
Cha. Shall I have more
In that hot pen?
Coq. [Laughs] You'll make it up, I guess.
Cha. I understand. You'll murder me.
Coq. My soul!
Let's keep our manners, though we sit in hell,
My occupation's decent, nothing said.
The silent deed is clean, but mouth it once,
The hands will smell. Pah!
[Famette steps out of hut]
Here's my kitten!
A kiss, my honey-pot!
Fam. I've better for you.
[Gives him a bottle of wine]