To these, all the former characters, less the Notary. The fiddles are heard without, playing dolefully. Air: ‘O dear, what can the matter be?’ in time to which the procession enters
Macaire. Well, friends, what cheer?
(All speak together . . .
Aline. No wedding, no wedding!
Goriot. I told ’ee he can’t and he can’t.
Dumont. Dear, dear me!
Ernestine. They won’t let us marry.
Charles. No wife, no father, no nothing!
. . . )
Curate. The facts have justified the worst anticipations of our absent friend, the Notary.