GUILLAUME (looks at GRAIN and is surprised; then goes on speaking). All the houses must be fired. Three more fellows like me and there won't be any more judges in Paris. GRAIN. Death to the judges! JULES. Yes ... but there may be one whom we can't annihilate. GUILLAUME. I should like to know who he is. JULES. The judge within us. HOST (softly). That's tasteless. Leave off. Scaevola, roar! Now's the time. SCAEVOLA. Wine here, Prosper; we want to drink to the death of all the judges in France. [During the last words enter the MARQUIS DE LANSAC, with his wife, SEVERINE, and ROLLIN, the poet.] SCAEVOLA. Death to all who have the power in their hands today! MARQUIS. See you, Severine, that is how they greet us. ROLLIN. Marquise, I warned you. SEVERINE. Why? FRANCOIS. Whom do I see? The Marquise! Allow me to kiss your hand. Good evening. Marquis. Well met to you, Rollin. And you, Marquise, you dare to venture into this place! SEVERINE. I heard such a lot about it. And besides, we are having a day of adventures already--eh, Rollin? MARQUIS. Yes. Just think of it, Vicomte; you would never believe where we come from--from the Bastille. FRANCOIS. Are they still keeping up the tumult there? SEVERINE. Ay, indeed! It looks as though they meant to storm it. ROLLIN (declaiming). Like to a flood that seethes against its banks, And rages deep that its own child, the Earth, Resists it.-- SEVERINE. Don't, Rollin! We left our carriages there in the neighborhood. It is a magnificent spectacle--there is always something so grand about crowds. FRANCOIS. Yes, yes, if they only did not smell so vilely. MARQUIS. And my wife would not leave me in peace--I had to bring her here. SEVERINE. Well, what is there so very special here? HOST (to LANSAC). Well, so you're here, are you, you dried-up old scoundrel? Did you bring your wife along because she wasn't safe enough for you at home? MARQUIS (with a forced laugh). He's quite a character. HOST. But take heed that she is not snatched away from under your nose in this very place. Aristocratic ladies like her very often get a deuce of a fancy to try what a real rogue is like. ROLLIN. I suffer unspeakably, Severine. MARQUIS. My child, I prepared you for this--it is high time that we went. SEVERINE. What ails you? I think it's charming. Nay, let us seat ourselves. FRANCOIS. Would you allow me. Marquise, to present to you the Chevalier de la Tremouille. He is here for the first time, too. The Marquis de Lansac; Rollin, our celebrated poet. ALBIN. Delighted. (Compliments; they sit down.) (To FRANCOIS.) Is that one of those that are playing, or--I can't make it out-- FRANCOIS. Don't be so stupid. That is the lawful wife of the Marquis de Lansac ... a lady of extreme propriety. ROLLIN (to SEVERINE). Say that thou lovest me. SEVERINE. Yes, yes; but ask me not every minute. MARQUIS. Have we missed a scene already?