Beppo. But is there some attack? The Comte de Poix? Already?
Monseigneur. One never knows. The times are troublous.
Beppo. But who will lead them, if thou art so ill?
Monseigneur (smiles). Why not thou? My brother?
Beppo (radiant). To battle? Philippe!
Monseigneur. Sit, Beppo, and I will give thee charge. Sit at my feet here, like a scholar, and I will teach thee.
Beppo. Monseigneur Philippe! (And looks up at him, breathless with interest, admiration, and attention.) Go on now; teach me! I am ready.
Monseigneur (gently). Thou knowest thou art my brother? (As Beppo nods.) Who has told thee?
Beppo (laughs). Everyone.