SYLVETTE. How nice and respectable!

PERCINET. Classic!

SYLVETTE. Of course, I had dreamed of a marriage more—but it is comforting to know that our love coincides with our—duty!

PERCINET. And the material interests of our fathers.

SYLVETTE. An excellent marriage, in short: a marriage of convenience! And our poor idyl!

PERCINET. Gone.

SYLVETTE. Gone! So I'm the good little girl of the family!

PERCINET. And I the obedient little son! But it was only as Romeo that I appealed to you!

SYLVETTE. Well, you are no longer that!

PERCINET. And do you think you are Juliet?

SYLVETTE. Now you're bitter.

PERCINET. And you cynical.

SYLVETTE. If you were ridiculous, is it my fault?

PERCINET. I at least had a partner!

SYLVETTE. I, too! Poor Blue Bird, you are beautifully plucked!

PERCINET. [Bitterly] A pre-arranged abduction!

SYLVETTE. Farce, all of it!

PERCINET. And I your savior! All our poetry was bought and paid for. Our beautiful bubble is now a tiny fleck of soap. Farewell, Shakespearean lovers—we have nothing in common with you!

SYLVETTE. Nothing!

PERCINET. In place of a divine drama, we played an infamous parody.

SYLVETTE. Our nightingale was a sparrow!

PERCINET. And the immortal wall a punch-and-judy theater. We were the puppets, worked by our fathers.

SYLVETTE. But how much more ridiculous we should be if we loved each other less than we do!

PERCINET. We must now love more than ever.

SYLVETTE. But we do—we adore—

PERCINET. The word is not a bit too strong.

SYLVETTE. Love can console us. Can it not, my treasure?

PERCINET. Certainly, my jewel.

SYLVETTE. Good-bye then, my dearest.

PERCINET. Good-bye, my darling.

SYLVETTE. I shall dream of you, my heart.

PERCINET. And I of you.

SYLVETTE. Good-night. [She goes out.]

PERCINET. So this is how I have been treated!— But who is this?
See the long moustaches—I don't know him—

[STRAFOREL enters and walks majestically toward PERCINET.]

STRAFOREL. [With a profound bow] I have come to collect a small bill.

PERCINET. Are you an upholsterer?

STRAFOREL. Run along, young man, and tell your papa I am waiting for him.

PERCINET. What is your name?

STRAFOREL. My name is Straforel.

PERCINET. [With a start] He?! This is too much!

STRAFOREL. [Smiling] Then you know, young man?

PERCINET. [Throwing the bill in STRAFOREL's face] Wretch! It was you!

STRAFOREL. It was, Per Bacco!

PERCINET. I have you at last.

STRAFOREL. The people you kill, you see, are in the best of health.

PERCINET. [Drawing his sword and making a pass at STRAFOREL]
You will see!

STRAFOREL. [Parrying with his arm, like a fencing-master giving a lesson] Hand high! Foot out! Monsieur, at your age, you should know better than that! [He takes the sword from PERCINET with his naked hand, and returns it as he bows.] What, are you stopping your fencing-lesson so soon?

PERCINET. [Exasperated, as he takes back the sword] I'm going away. Here I am treated like a child. I shall have my revenge. I am going to seek my romance—true romance: love-affairs, duels, and—Ah, Don Juan, I will scandalize your ghost! I will elope with actresses! [He dashes out, brandishing his sword.]

STRAFOREL. Very well, but who is going to pay me? [Looking in the distance] Stop there! Here's someone else.

[Enter BERGAMIN and PASQUINOT, their hair and clothes ruffled, as if they had been fighting.]

PASQUINOT. [Readjusting his clothes and holding BERGAMIN's wig]
Here's your wig!

BERGAMIN. And here's yours!

PASQUINOT. After this, you can't imagine I'll—?

BERGAMIN. I would no more live with you now than—

[Enter SYLVETTE.]

PASQUINOT. My daughter!—Say nothing about this!

SYLVETTE. [Throwing her arms about her father's neck] Papa, I can't marry Percinet!

[Enter the NOTARY and four WITNESSES.]

BERGAMIN. The witnesses! The devil!

WITNESSES. What—?

STRAFOREL. [In the midst of the tumult] My bill! Who is going to pay me? Ninety pistoles!

[Enter the GUESTS and three FIDDLERS, who play.]

BERGAMIN. What's all this? The guests? Music?

[The FIDDLERS continue their minuet.]

STRAFOREL. [To BERGAMIN] Well?

BERGAMIN. See Pasquinot.

STRAFOREL. [Reading] "For the purpose of bringing about a marriage—"

BERGAMIN. Well, there is to be no marriage! Therefore I owe you nothing!

[Enter BLAISE.]

STRAFOREL. [To PASQUINOT] But, Monsieur—

PASQUINOT. What? Pay you now that it is broken off!

BERGAMIN. [To whom BLAISE has just whispered] My son—run away?

SYLVETTE. Run away?

STRAFOREL. Well! Well!

BERGAMIN. Quick, follow him! [He runs out, followed by the NOTARY and the WITNESSES.]

SYLVETTE. Gone!

STRAFOREL. [Coming down-stage] Why can't I straighten all this out?

SYLVETTE. This is too much! [She goes out, followed by PASQUINOT.]

STRAFOREL. Straforel, my son, if you want your ninety pistoles, you must patch up this marriage! [He goes out. The three FIDDLERS, left alone, continue their minuet, as the curtain falls.]

Curtain

* * * * *

ACT III

SCENE: The scene is the same except that the wall is being rebuilt. Bricks and sacks of plaster lie about.

As the curtain rises, the MASON is seen at work with his trowel. His back is turned to the audience. BERGAMIN and PASQUINOT, each on his own side of the wall, watch the progress of the work.

The MASON. [Singing at his work] Tra la la—

BERGAMIN. These masons are so slow!

PASQUINOT. Good!

BERGAMIN. How he slaps the mortar!

PASQUINOT. There goes another brick!

[The MASON sings a number of trills.]

PASQUINOT. Sings well, but works very slowly! By to-morrow the wall will be at least two feet high!

BERGAMIN. I'm impatient to see it higher!

PASQUINOT. What is that you say, Monsieur?

BERGAMIN. I was not addressing you. [A pause.] What do you do evenings after dinner?

PASQUINOT. Nothing—and you?

BERGAMIN. Nothing. [Another pause. They bow and walk about again.]

PASQUINOT. [Stopping] Any news from your son?

BERGAMIN. No—he is still away.

PASQUINOT. He will