Athol (catches the half-fainting child in her arms): Oh, precious! You are safe!
Valentine (puts on his coat and goes to the passage through the counter; he sees Dr. Walters standing, half blocking this passage, and he smiles): Well, Varick! Got round at last, have you? Well, let’s go. I don’t know that it makes much difference now.
Dr. Walters (steps back to let Valentine through the passage): Guess you’re mistaken, Mr. Valentine. Don’t believe I recognize you. Is that your buggy out there, waiting to take you to the train?
Judge (shouts): Jimmie Valentine! Come back here and get that drink before you go. I’ll mix it red-hot, in Creole style. Come back, I tell you! (Athol and the two children go off right; the light shifts to red; the Judge produces his bottle, and Joe hastens grinning, with glasses. Music and jingle of castanets; Espiritu de la Vina dances on, singing)
A beber, a beber, a apurar
Las Copas de licor
Que el vino hara olvidar
Las penas del amor.
(The judge pours the drinks into the glasses; all gather, and lift their glasses in pledge): Gentlemen, we drink to the health of the Bride. What is the phrase: “The scent of the flowers, the booty of the bee, the primal drip of spring waters, the overture of the lark, the twist of lemon peel on the cocktail of creation!” Gentlemen, the Bride!
All: The Bride!