How are you? [PASQUINOT raises his head.] Well?

PASQUINOT. My friend, why ask that? We see each other all the time!

BERGAMIN. Oh, very well. [Seeing BLAISE arranging the plants] Will you take those plants back?! [BLAISE, not knowing what to do, takes them back immediately. PASQUINOT raises his eyes, shrugs his shoulders, and then resumes his reading. BERGAMIN walks back and forth, and finally sits down near PASQUINOT. There is a pause.] I used to come here every day, in silence—

PASQUINOT. [Laying aside his paper] I, too—it was most amusing!

BERGAMIN. And our secret!

PASQUINOT. The very danger was amusing.

BERGAMIN. And the things we had to say of each other—!

PASQUINOT. Very amusing.—Bergamin?

BERGAMIN. Pasquinot?

PASQUINOT. Something's lacking now.

BERGAMIN. The idea! [After a moment's reflection] Yes, I agree with you. Funny—are you losing your sense of the romantic? [He looks at PASQUINOT and says, aside] His waistcoat often lacks a button! It's disgusting! [He rises and walks back and forth.]

PASQUINOT. [Looking over his paper—aside] He looks like some immense beetle. [He pretends to be reading as BERGAMIN passes him.]

BERGAMIN. [Aside] See the ridiculous way he reads! [He whistles as he walks away up-stage.]

PASQUINOT. [Aside] Whistling! Oh, Heavens! Don't do that, whistling makes me nervous.

BERGAMIN. [With a smile] Remember the mote in your neighbor's eye. You, too, get on my nerves sometimes.

PASQUINOT. I?

BERGAMIN. You tell the same story twenty times a day.

PASQUINOT. Why, I—

BERGAMIN. And when you sit down you swing your foot like a pendulum. At meals you roll your bread in a most disgusting manner.

PASQUINOT. Ha, you take me to task for my irritating mannerisms! But let me tell you, you are no less unpleasant. You are ridiculous and thoroughly selfish. I know now what the trouble is: the wall— with it, we were happy, now we don't live at all.

BERGAMIN. We didn't do this for ourselves, did we?

PASQUINOT. No, we did not!

BERGAMIN. It was for our children.

PASQUINOT. For our children, yes. Let us therefore suffer in silence, and regret our former liberty.

BERGAMIN. Sacrifice is the lot of parents.

[SYLVETTE and PERCINET appear at the left, up stage, arm in arm.]

PASQUINOT. Sh—the lovers!

BERGAMIN. [Looking at them] See them! How they love each other!
Like the old pilgrims of love, they return each day to the sacred spot.

[The lovers, who have meantime disappeared, re-appear on the opposite side of the stage, and come down toward the old men.]

PASQUINOT. If they are talking as they usually do, their conversation will be well worth listening to!

[BERGAMIN and PASQUINOT retire behind a tree.]

PERCINET. I love you.

SYLVETTE. I love you. [They stop.] Here is the famous spot.

PERCINET. Yes. He fell here, that big fellow, pierced to the heart.

SYLVETTE. There was I, like Andromeda.

PERCINET. And I was Perseus!

SYLVETTE. How many were there against you?

PERCINET. Ten!

SYLVETTE. Oh, there were twenty at least, not counting the big leader.

PERCINET. Or thirty—there must have been!

SYLVETTE. Tell me once more how it was accomplished?

PERCINET. They fell—like cards in a row!

SYLVETTE. Our story should be put into a poem!

PERCINET. It shall be.

SYLVETTE. How I love you!

PERCINET. I adore you!

SYLVETTE. A realized dream. How my heart beats! I would never think of marrying a commonplace little husband picked out by my father!

PERCINET. Indeed?

SYLVETTE. No, no, not the way husbands are usually given to young girls.

PERCINET. No, you would never have thought of marrying the son of your father's best friend.

SYLVETTE. [Laughing] Indeed not. Have you noticed how our fathers have lately—?

PERCINET. Yes, like two dogs.

BERGAMIN. [Aside] Hm!

PERCINET. And I know the reason why. This new arrangement is not the best thing for their property. Our fathers are very good people, you know, but they haven't much soul, and our brilliant adventure rather throws them into the shade—

PASQUINOT. [Aside] How's that?

SYLVETTE. You see, they are fathers of celebrated lovers. Poor fathers, how they have been deceived!

PASQUINOT. [Aside] Ha, ha!

PERCINET. Yes, fate has been with us!

BERGAMIN. [Aside] Ha, ha!

SYLVETTE. And to-night the marriage-contract is to be signed!

PERCINET. I must have musicians.

SYLVETTE. Then go quick.

PERCINET. I fly!

SYLVETTE. [Calling him back] I'll take you as far as the gate. [They go up-stage, arm in arm.] We are at least as great as the most celebrated lovers.

PERCINET. We shall take our place with Romeo and Juliet!

SYLVETTE. Aminta and her shepherd.

PERCINET. Pyramus and Thisbe.

SYLVETTE. And so many others! [They disappear, but their voices are heard outside.]

Voice of PERCINET. Francesca and Paolo.

Voice of SYLVETTE. Petrarch and Laura.

[BERGAMIN and PASQUINOT emerge.]

PASQUINOT. See how well your plan has succeeded! Our children are quite mad, thanks to you!

BERGAMIN. Your daughter, with her famous abduction, is most aggravating.

PASQUINOT. Your son thinks he is a hero. He gets on my nerves.

BERGAMIN. But the worst of it all is that they think we are two idiotic old fools whom they have deceived. I don't like it at all.

PASQUINOT. Why didn't you think of it before, wise man? I'm going to tell them everything.

BERGAMIN. No, please don't do that—at least not until after the signing of the contract. Let us not say a word until then.

PASQUINOT. Very well. But meantime, here we are caught in the net of your own making.

BERGAMIN. But my dear friend, you admired the plan!

PASQUINOT. A fine plan, in truth!

[SYLVETTE enters gaily, with flowers in her hand. She waves to
PERCINET in the distance, then comes down-stage.]

SYLVETTE. Good-day, Papa. Good-day, Father-in-law to-be!

BERGAMIN. Good-day, daughter-in-law to-be!

SYLVETTE. My, my, what a bad humor you are in!

BERGAMIN. It's Pasquinot's fault—he—he—

SYLVETTE. [Waving her flowers in BERGAMIN's face] Sh! Please don't quarrel. Of course, I understand, you can't behave quite as old friends, and you like to quarrel a little, in a friendly way—

BERGAMIN. Of course, our hatred was so great!

SYLVETTE. A mortal hatred, too! When I think what you've said about Papa—oh, dear! I used to sit