What a rare coxcomb! [_Aloud to Saverny._] Come, sir, come! SAVERNY. You're brusk, but I'm in debt to you for life. If ever you should need fraternal friendship, Count upon me, Marquis de Saverny, Paris, Hôtel de Nesle. DIDIER. Enough, sir! Come! [_Aside._] To see her thus examined by a fool! [_They go out by the balcony. The voice of Didier is heard outside._ Your road lies that way. Mine lies here! SCENE IV Marion, Dame Rose MARION (_remains absorbed a moment, then calls_). Dame Rose! [_Dame Rose appears. Marion points to the window._ Go shut it! [_Dame Rose, having shut the window, turns and sees Marion wiping away a tear._ DAME ROSE (_aside_). She is weeping! [_Aloud._] It is time To sleep, madame! MARION. Yes, time for you--you people. [_Undoing her hair._ Come, help me to undress! DAME ROSE (_helping her to undress_). The gentleman To-night was pleasant. Is he rich? MARION. Not rich. DAME ROSE. But gallant. MARION. No, nor gallant. [_Turning to Dame Rose._ He did not So much as kiss my hand! DAME ROSE. What use is he? MARION (_pensive_). I love him! [Illustration: MARION DE LORME.] _ACT II_ THE ENCOUNTER Scene.--_Blois. The door of a public-house. A square. In the background the city of Blois is visible in the form of an amphitheater, also the towers of St. Nicholas upon the hill, which is covered with houses_ SCENE I Count de Gassé, Marquis de Brichanteau, Viscount de Bouchavannes, Chevalier de Rochebaron. _They are seated at tables in front of the door: some are smoking, the others are throwing dice and drinking. Afterward Chevalier de Montpesat, Count de Villac; afterward L'Angely; afterward The Town-Crier and The Populace_ BRICHANTEAU (_rising, to Gassé, who enters_). Gassé! [_They shake hands._ You are come to join The regiment at Blois: our compliments Upon your burial. [_Examining his clothes._ Ah! Gassé. It is the style-- This orange with blue ribbons. [_Folding his arms and curling his mustache._ You must know That Blois is forty miles from Paris! BRICHANTEAU. Yes, It's China! GASSÉ. That makes womankind rebel: To follow us they must exile themselves. BOUCHAVANNES (_turning from the game_). You come from Paris? ROCHEBARON (_taking out his pipe_). Is there any news? GASSÉ (_bowing_).