ARAMINTE: Thirty thousand in bills of exchange plus fourteen and six. VALERE: What happiness. ISABELLE: I breathe. VALERE: With great pleasure I tear up your forfeitures. (Enter Frontin with a cape, a short wig and a cap like Pasquin) FRONTIN: Our lovers are satisfied. We must amuse them. ARAMINTE: Oh, it's you Chevalier. Why are you dressed like that? BELISE: Oh. It's the Senechal. What is this mystery? Why aren't you wearing your usual clothes? FRONTIN: Here I am only a servant-chevalier. ARAMINTE: He's playful. BELISE: But Senechal-- FRONTIN: Although Senechal, I often wear livery. BELISE: Have you gone mad? ARAMINTE: Drunk on pleasures, my sister sees in you her lover, the Senechal, dear Chevalier. BELISE: Sister we are misunderstanding each other. He's the Senechal Groux. ARAMINTE: But I think you are dreaming. He's my Chevalier Cique. FRONTIN: Yes, from complacency to please the younger, I am playful, lively and to please the elder, stern. But unable to be two except in appearance I must admit that Frontin is neither Cique nor Groux. BELISE: What? ARAMINTE: How's that? VALERE: It's Frontin himself. BELISE: Where are we? VALERE: A scoundrel of a valet to pretend to be such a person. ARAMINTE: A valet? BELISE: A valet. GERONTE: The wisest thing would be to ask us about this matter in private. ISABELLE: Pardon the nephew for the valet's sake. BELISE: Oh, sister. ARAMINTE: Oh, sis, let's hide our shame from them. (Exit Araminte and Belise) VALERE: The fear they have of making the subject of a fine story perhaps may make them less unjust to me. FRONTIN: In comic moral, it is, I believe, permitted, for Frontin to punish the aunts' avarice and to make fun of these broken down lovers. CURTAIN