[Exeunt Henri and Léocadie. ]
Enter together François, Vicomte de Nogeant, and Albin, Chevalier de la Tremouille.
Scaevola. What a contemptible braggart!
Host. Good evening, you swine. [Albin starts back.]
François (without taking any notice). Was not that the little Léocadie of the Porte St. Martin, who went away with Henri?
Host. Of course it was.—If she really took great trouble she could eventually make you remember that even you are something of a man, eh?
François (laughing). That is not impossible. It seems we are rather early tonight.
Host. In the meanwhile you can amuse yourself with your minion.
[Albin is on the point of flying into a passion.]
François. Let it pass. I told you what went on here. Bring us wine.