Shouts. Liberty! Liberty!
Grasset. We have cut off a dozen heads; the Bastille belongs to us; the prisoners are free! Paris belongs to the people!
Host. Hear you?—hear you? Paris belongs to us!
Grasset. See you how he gains courage now. Yes, shout away, Prosper; naught more can happen to you now.
Host (to the nobles). What say you to it, you rabble? The joke is at an end.
Albin. Said I not so?
Host. The people of Paris have conquered.
Commissaire. Silence! (They laugh.) Silence! I forbid the continuance of the performance!
Grasset. Who is that nincompoop?
Commissaire. Prosper, I regard you as responsible for all these seditious speeches.