Capital! I will ride with you. In my mind's eye I see already golden moonrise, and silver vapour on the dark alder bush.... Are there also songs and notes of the mandolin? The Marshal. Plenty of them! The Painter. Hurrah! There is music too! The Marshal. And in the story-telling by night at the camp-fire many a tale of human destiny will be unfolded to you. The Painter. A world of pictures! (_More softly_.) And love adventures? The Marshal. If you choose to call them "adventures." The Painter. Agreed, sir! And an excess of happiness will flow out of my soul like a prayer.--Yet it seems I am forgetting the greatest happiness. I shall be with you. I may paint you. The Marshal. Take care! _TENTH SCENE_. THE SAME. THE VALET DE CHAMBRE. THE QUEEN. THE TWO MAIDS OF HONOUR. Valet. Your Majesty! (The Queen _rustles over from the left to the right, without bestowing a glance on the two men. At the door on the right she gives the_ Valet _a scroll with which he advances. Then she goes out, followed by the Maids of Honour_.) The Marshal. Now the hastily contrived reward of our misdeeds is at hand. (_To_ Jean.) My noble sir, bestir yourself. (_To_ The Painter.) That is the handsome Jean as an angel of justice! (_He unfolds the scroll and reads, laughing_.) The Painter. And to me, what do you bring to me? The Valet. (_With an expression of awkward contempt_.) You?--Nothing! The Painter. Exquisite! The Valet. But yes! Your reward shall be meted out to you in the office of the Marshal of the court. The Painter (_amused_). Indeed? The Valet. Yes! (_Behind the scenes on the right are heard cries of "Jean! Jean!"_) The Deaf Maid of Honour. (_Hurries in from the right_.) Jean! Have you forgotten her Majesty? The Valet (_sweetly_). Oh, no! Tell her Majesty I am coming directly. The Painter and The Marshal. (_Look at each other, and break out into laughter_.) The Marshal. Look, look, my friend! He seems to have got into bad habits. The Painter (_pointing at him_). It is rightly so. I had almost begged him, at the court where we men are forbidden, proudly to represent the eternal masculine. (_Laughing, they both bow to him_.) (_Exit_ The Valet.) The Painter. But we are going into the flowery open, to our merry pursuits. The Marshal.