ALL. The dollar, the dollar!
VILLAIN. I'll tear it to pieces.
COMEDIAN. Then we shall tear out what little hair you have left on your head. The dollar, quick!
[They surround the Villain; the women pull his hair; the Tragedian grabs him by the collar and shakes him; the "Old Man" strikes him on his bald pate; the Comedian struggles with him and finally grasps the dollar.
COMEDIAN. [Holding up the dollar.] I have it!
[The women dance and sing.
VILLAIN. Bandits! Thieves!
TRAGEDIAN. Silence, or I'll shut your mouth.
[Goes back to the trunk and assumes his heroic pose.
COMEDIAN. [Putting the dollar into his pocket.] That's what I call a successful and a bloodless revolution, except for a little fright and heart palpitation on the part of the late master and bread-giver. Listen, some one is coming. Perhaps he'll be able to change the dollar and then we can divide it at once.