BRIGNAC. Well, then, I am fit. Ask my wife if I’ve ever been ill. That’s the result of following my father’s example. Never once ill at thirtyfive. Only, only—mark my words—I drink nothing but good wine. You must admit I’m right, for I’ve never been—I won’t say drunk, but even ordinarily elevated. No, never. Isn’t that so, Lucie? I’ll hold my own with anyone. I’ve often won bets about it. LUCIE. But you know you sometimes have fits of passion. BRIGNAC. That has nothing to do with it. That’s my temperament. I’m built nervously. HOURTIN. Never having been drunk proves nothing. BRIGNAC. Oh, come! HOURTIN. No. There are a large number of men who drink, perhaps, a glass of vermouth before lunch, a bottle of wine at lunch, and two or three glasses of liqueur after. The same at dinner, after an absinthe and a glass or two of beer in the afternoon. They would be much astonished to learn that they are thoroughly alcoholized. BRIGNAC. Well, I do all that, and I’m as well as can be. What is more, as a baby I was very delicate. I couldn’t walk till I was eighteen months old or talk before two years. And I’m from the south. Ha, ha! You’ll say I’m making up for lost time? HOURTIN [_laughing_] I shan’t try to convince you. Time will do that. BRIGNAC [_glass in hand_] In one way I’m of your mind. I firmly believe that drink is a social evil, and I fight against it. For poor people, who are underfed and drink adulterated stuff. That’s different. There you’re right. But alcohol is only bad on an empty stomach. HOURTIN. Poor empty stomachs. But why don’t you preach sobriety to them, instead of inciting them to have children? BRIGNAC. Don’t you approve of that? HOURTIN. My own opinion is that the poor and the sick have too many children and the rich not enough. BRIGNAC. But—[_To Josephine, who enters_] What is it? HOURTIN. Then I’ll be going. [_To Lucie_] Till tomorrow. BRIGNAC [_to Josephine_] Shew him in. [_To Hourtin_] Wait a moment—five minutes—two minutes only. I’ll shew you a workman who has twelve children. Let’s see what you say to that. [_To Féchain_] Come in, my friend, come in. _Enter Féchain, a man of fifty, dressed in a workman’s Sunday clothes. Where he stands on coming in he is unable to see Hourtin._ FÉCHAIN. Good day, ladies and gentlemen. LUCIE [_to Madeleine_] What a gay old thing! MADELEINE. Ha, ha! BRIGNAC. I am glad to see you here in my house and in the midst of my family, and I congratulate you as a living example of the fulfilment of duty. Give me your hand. FÉCHAIN. Here you are, sir. [_They shake hands_]. BRIGNAC. What’s your name? FÉCHAIN. Féchain. BRIGNAC. Do you live at Chartres? FÉCHAIN. Yes, sir, close by, in the valley. BRIGNAC. What are you by trade? FÉCHAIN. I do a job here and a job there. BRIGNAC. And you have twelve children? FÉCHAIN. The thirteenth coming, too. BRIGNAC. What! My best congratulations. MADELEINE. Your wife might have some of the congratulations as well.