THE OLD BOURGEOIS. They are waiting for daylight before entering.

THE MASON. What time is it?

THE WOMAN. Three. Listen, the cocks are crowing.

THE MASON [wiping his brow with his sleeve]. Got to hurry! Lord, how hot it is!

THE CARPENTER. So much the better.

THE OLD BOURGEOIS. I can't do another stroke.

THE CARPENTER. Rest a little, Monsieur. Nobody need work any more than he can.

THE OLD BOURGEOIS [bringing a paving-block]. I want to put this in place, though.

THE CARPENTER. Take it easier. If you can't gallop, trot.

THE WOMAN, Have you got your muskets yet?