When they had taken their places, Lucilio played a beautiful piece by way of overture, and Clindor the page appeared on the scene, in the costume of a shepherd of romance. He sang divers pretty rustic couplets, of Master Jovelin's composition; then he set about watching his flocks, consisting of real lambs, well-washed and decked in ribbons, who behaved exceedingly well on the stage. Fleurial the shepherd dog, also played his part becomingly. Soft, soporific music was played on the _sourdeline_ to which the shepherd fell asleep. Thereupon a venerable old man came forward and searched the sleeper's pockets and even the fleeces of the sheep with agonizing suspense. His beard was so luxuriant, his white hair and eyebrows so bushy, that nobody recognized him at first; but when he declaimed some lines of his own composition to set forth the cause of his sorrow, they laughed heartily as they recognized Adamas's Gascon accent. That despairing old man was in pursuit of Destiny, which had stolen his young master, his lord's beloved child. The shepherd, suddenly awakened, asked him what he wanted. There was an animated dialogue between them, wherein they repeated the same thing many times, which, according to Adamas, had the advantage of forcing the spectators to grasp what he called the _knot of the play_. The shepherd assisted the old man in his search, and they were going forward to attack a small fort among the branches at the back of the stage, supposed to be in the distance, which was no other than that formerly brought by the marquis _en croupe_ from the château of Sarzay, when a terrible giant, dressed in fantastic fashion, opposed their progress. This giant, enacted by Aristandre, expressed himself at first in an unknown tongue. As he had declared that he was incapable of remembering three words, Lucilio, who had consented to assist Adamas in staging his work, had instructed the charioteer, in his rôle of giant, to use, at random, any meaningless, incoherent syllables; it was enough that he should have an awe-inspiring manner and an appalling voice. Aristandre followed these instructions very well, but when Adamas insulted and irritated him in the most stinging way, calling him monster, ogre and wizard, the honest giant, not choosing to be outdone, emitted such horrifying oaths in good Berrichon that they had to make haste to kill him, to prevent him from shocking the audience. This scene offended Fleurial, who was not brave, and who leaped over the candle footlights to take refuge between his master's legs. When the monstrous coachman was laid low by Adamas's trusty blade, the little fort crumbled away as if by magic, and in its place a sibyl appeared. It was the Moor, to whom they had given some beautiful Oriental fabrics in which she had arrayed herself with much taste and poetic beauty. She was very lovely so, and was received with loud applause.