Dumont. By the way, a singular thing about my patent key.
Brigadier. This gentleman is speaking.
Macaire. Excellent Dumont! he means no harm. This Macaire is not personally known to you?
Brigadier. Are you connected with justice?
Macaire. Ah, sir, justice is a point above a poor author.
Brigadier (with glass). Justice is the very devil.
Macaire. My dear sir, my friend and I, I regret to say, have an appointment in Lyons, or I could spend my life in this society. Charge your glasses: one hour to madness and to joy! What is to-morrow? the enemy of to-day. Wine? the bath of life. One moment: I find I have forgotten my watch. (He makes for the door.)
Brigadier. Halt!
Macaire. Sir, what is this jest?
Brigadier. Sentry at the door. Your passports.