Étions seuls humains… voilà!
(Il salue et disparaît.)
ACT III.
(Stifling heat. Although the sun is shining, a heavy black cloud is creeping from the East and the air is charged with a presentiment of a dreadful thunderstorm. From time to time runners, out of breath, enter, ascend the staircase and disappear within the palace. All await the royal cortege in vague alarm.)
People
(amongst themselves).
It is dreadful! What is it?
I don’t know myself. There’s nothing to fear;
Nothing bad will happen to us.
You see the golden cock is not beating his wings,