Séverine. A fellow jumped onto the footboard of our carriage and shouted, "Next year you will stand behind your coachman and we shall be sitting in the carriages."
François. Hm! That is rather strong.
Marquis. Odds life! I don't think one ought to talk of such things. Paris is now somewhat feverish, but that will soon pass off again.
Guillaume (suddenly). I see flames—flames everywhere I look—red, high flames.
Host (to him). You're playing a madman, not a criminal.
Séverine. Does he see flames?
François. But all this is still not the real thing. Marquise.
Albin (to Rollin). I cannot tell you how bewildered I feel already with everything.
Michette (comes to the Marquis). I have not yet greeted you, darling, you dear old pig.
Marquis (embarrassed). She jests, dear Séverine.