—Which—is tried? (Waking up.)
—Dinner is ready, Your Excellency.
—Ah! Why didn’t you wake me up before?
(Everything assumes at once a happy, amiable, homelike aspect. The judges pull off their wigs, exposing their bald heads, and gradually they lose themselves in the crowd, shake hands, and with feigned indifference they look askance, contemplating the dining. Portly waiters in rich liveries, with difficulty and bent under the weight of immense dishes, bring gigantic portions; whole mutton trunks, colossal hams, high, mountain-like roasts. Before the stout man, on a low stool, they place a whole roasted pig, which is brought in by three. Doubtful, he looks at it.)
—Would you assist me, Professor?
—With pleasure, Your Excellency.
—And you, Honorable Judge?
—Although I am not hungry—but with your leave—
—I may, perhaps, be suffered to—(the Abbot modestly speaks, his mouth watering.)