MME. CHEV. You don’t regret it? SOUS-IN. Ah, I don’t say that, madame. BRIGNAC [_to the three mayors_] You have heard, messieurs les maires: commerce and the army require the increase of the population, and the Government commands you, therefore, to further this end to the best of your ability, each one of you in his own commune. _The three mayors seem annoyed. They look at one another._ PIERRE [_nervelessly_] All right, M. le sous-préfet. LAUR [_in the same tone_] I’ll mention it. JACQUES [_the same_] I’ll think it over. BRIGNAC. Oh, but gentlemen, I want something more definite than that. I am a man of action: I am not to be put off with words. ‘Acta non verba.’ May I depend on you to set to work? LAUR. You see, M. le sous-préfet, this’ll take a bit of thinking over. JACQUES. Don’t be in a hurry. BRIGNAC. We must be men of action. M. Pierre Poiret, now is your chance, won’t you give them a lead? PIERRE. _Me_—M. le sous-préfet? BRIGNAC. Yes, _you_, M. le maire! PIERRE. No—oh, no—not _me_. If you knew—no—not me. [_Pointing to his neighbor_] My brother, Jacques Poiret: he’s your man. Ask Jacques, M. le sous-préfet, he can’t refuse. But _me_—not me! BRIGNAC. Then it is to be you, M. Jacques Poiret? JACQUES. If they want to start an association in my commune, M. le sous-préfet, they must get Thierry to see to it. BRIGNAC. Who is Thierry? JACQUES. My opponent at the next election. BRIGNAC. Why? JACQUES. Why—if he goes in for this I’m certain to get in. But about the next commune, I can’t understand why my brother Pierre won’t. PIERRE. Me? JACQUES. Yes, you’re the very man. BRIGNAC. Why? JACQUES. Why? Because he has eight children. BRIGNAC. You, M. Pierre Poiret, you have eight children, and you said nothing about it! Let these ladies congratulate you. PIERRE [_resisting_] It’s not civil, M. le sous-préfet, it’s not civil. BRIGNAC. What d’you mean? PIERRE. When you ask people to dinner it’s not to make fun of them. BRIGNAC. But I’m not making fun of you. PIERRE. You’d be the first that didn’t. _I_ can’t help it! It’s real bad luck, that’s what it is. But it’s no reason why I should always be made fun of. BRIGNAC. But— PIERRE. Yes, it’s always the same. In my commune— BRIGNAC [_interrupting_] But I assure you— PIERRE. In my commune they’re always joking about me. They say ‘Hey, Pierre Poiret, there’s a prize for the twelfth!’ Or they say ‘Pierre Poiret’—and there isn’t a single day they don’t say it, and everyone thinks it’s funny, and they split with laughing—they say ‘Pierre Poiret’—only—hum—not before the ladies. [_Jacques Poiret is holding his sides_] Just look at that fool! I’m sure he brought the talk round to that a’ purpose. BRIGNAC. No, no. PIERRE. I bet you he did. Whenever we’re in company it’s the same thing. I won’t go about with him any more. BRIGNAC. But your position is most honorable.