VINTIMILLE. You're becoming sentimental! Well, it's the fashion of the day, I suppose. Listen to the skunks out there! Disgusting. What do they want? BÉQUART. Bread. VINTIMILLE. Do they imagine the Bastille is a bakery? There they go again! They _are_ in earnest. They seem most anxious to live. I wonder what interest they have in life? Their only pleasures are sour wine and unwashed women! BÉQUART. You know, Monseigneur, that no matter how little one has to live for, one always clings to life. VINTIMILLE. Oh, really? Speak for yourself! BÉQUART. Oh, but you have everything to be desired. VINTIMILLE. Do you envy me? Nothing in it, my boy. BÉQUART. Nothing in it? VINTIMILLE. Does that surprise you? You couldn't understand. Nothing! It is just the July sun--it makes me pessimistic. A Swiss GUARD [_entering from the other court--to_ DE LAUNEY]. Monseigneur, they are firing from the neighboring houses. Some of them are perched on the roofs. DE FLUE. Well, knock them off. It's only child's play for marksmen like you. [_Outside,_ HOCHE _is heard singing the refrain of the song sung in the Second Act_]: "Oh, come, thou God of Liberty, And fill our souls this day--" Swiss GUARDS [_outside_]. Forward! To the Governor! DE FLUE. What's the trouble? Swiss GUARDS [_entering from the exterior court, driving in_ HOCHE, _with_ JULIE _ on his shoulders_.] Commander, we caught this--just as he was jumping over the outer wall. HOCHE [_setting_ JULIE _on the ground_]. There you are! And here we are! I told you you would be the first to enter! JULIE [_joining her hands ecstatically_]. The Bastille! VINTIMILLE. I don't see the joke? [_They form a circle about the newcomers_.] HOCHE [_quietly_]. Commander, we are envoys. [_The Soldiers laugh._] DE LAUNEY. Strange envoys! HOCHE. We have no choice. We've been signaling to you, but you refused to see us. We jumped over the wall; that was the only way to reach you. JULIE [_going to the Swiss Guards_]. Here they are! Swiss GUARDS. What do you want, little brat? JULIE. Are you the prisoners? Swiss GUARDS [_laughing_]. Prisoners? No, we guard the prisoners. HOCHE. You are not so very much mistaken. They, too, are prisoners, and more to be pitied than the others. They have lost even the desire for liberty. DE LAUNEY. Who is this child? HOCHE. Our good genius. She begged me to take her with me. I carried her on my back. VINTIMILLE. Are you out of your head to expose the child to such danger? HOCHE. Why should she not share our risks? She is sure to die if we die. Don't pretend to pity her; your cannon have no such scruples. VINTIMILLE [_with his accustomed coldness and irony_]. A soldier! A petty officer who has deserted! So this is the envoy they send us? Capital! Well, shoot him. That will end his mission. DE LAUNEY. One moment. It might be well to find out what they want. VINTIMILLE. They have nothing to ask for. DE FLUE. You don't parley with insurrectionists.