Brigadier (with glass). Justice is the very devil.
Macaire. My dear sir, my friend and I, I regret to say, have an appointment in Lyons, or I could spend my life in this society. Charge your glasses: one hour to madness and to joy! What is to-morrow? the enemy of to-day. Wine? the bath of life. One moment: I find I have forgotten my watch. (He makes for the door.)
Brigadier. Halt!
Macaire. Sir, what is this jest?
Brigadier. Sentry at the door. Your passports.
Macaire. My good man, with all the pleasure in life. (Gives papers. The Brigadier puts on spectacles, and examines them.)
Bertrand (rising, and passing round to Macaire’s other side). It’s life and death: they must soon find it.
Macaire (aside). Don’t I know? My heart’s like fire in my body.
Brigadier. Your name is?
Macaire. It is; one’s name is not unknown.