Guillaume (making toward the table where the actors are sitting, with his hand on his heart—speaking with difficulty—supporting himself). Saved—ay, saved!
Scaevola. What is it? What ails you?
Albin. What has happened to the man?
François. That is part of the acting now. Mark you.
Albin. Ah!
Michette and Flipotte (going quickly to Guillaume). What is it? What ails you?
Scaevola. Sit down. Take a draught!
Guillaume. More!—more! Prosper, more wine! I have been running. My tongue cleaves to my mouth. They were right at my heels.
Jules (gives a start). Ah! be careful; they really are at our heels.
Host. Come, tell us, what happened then? (To the actors.) Movement!—more movement!