"'Est-ce toi, chère Élise? O jour trois fois heureux! Que béni soit le ciel, qui te rend à mes voeux, Toi qui, de Benjamin comme moi descendue, Fus de mes premiers ans la compagne assidue.'"[D] [D] Is it thou, O dear Élise? Thrice happy day! Thank heaven, which doth restore thee to my prayers, Thee, who, like me, from Benjamin descended, Wast of my early years the comrade true. "Delicious! delicious!" cried Floridor, clapping his hands, while Ménard rolled his eyes about in amazement, looking for this Élise whom monsieur le baron addressed; and as he saw no one but the maid-servant, he asked her if her name was Élise. "Is monsieur an actor?" inquired Floridor, walking toward Dubourg, cap in hand. "I, monsieur!" he replied, pretending to be surprised and annoyed because he had been overheard. "I--I assure you, monsieur--what ground have you for such an opinion?" he demanded, in a gruff voice, like a villain of melodrama. "What ground!" cried the little man, delighted beyond words, and seizing Dubourg's hand. "Ah! monsieur, you betrayed yourself just now without knowing it; but even without that I should have recognized you. That voice, that carriage, those noble and majestic attitudes! None but an actor of the first rank combines all these; and you are such a one; it is useless for you to deny it." "I see," said Dubourg, smiling with an air of mock modesty, "that it is difficult to conceal anything from you. But my companion and I had fully resolved to retain our incognito." "Your companion!" cried the little man, leaping for joy; "can it be that monsieur is an actor, too?" "Unexcelled in tearful rôles, superb in tragedy, and absolutely natural in comedy," said Dubourg, while Ménard listened with the air of one listening to a language he does not understand. But Floridor did not allow him to remain in that benumbed condition; he threw his arms about Dubourg's neck, he threw his arms about Ménard's neck, and would have done the same by the maid if somebody had not stopped him. "They are sent by heaven!" he cried, rushing about the room like a madman. "I shall open my theatre! we will play _Phèdre_, we will make the whole town weep with _Le Devin du Village_!--Master innkeeper, a bottle of your best wine. I have the honor of inviting to supper the two artists who are travelling incognito." "What does this mean?" Ménard asked Dubourg, in an undertone. "It means that we are the two first actors to the King of Poland, that yonder little magpie has already invited us to supper, and that he is going to do a great deal more for us; further, that you must support what I say, and try not to look like an idiot." "What, monsieur le baron--you and I pass ourselves off as actors?"