e of it nowadays. The peasants
are getting so insolent ... one doesn't know what to do any more....

FRANCOIS. What would you have? The poor devils are hungry--that is the
secret.

ALBIN. How can I help it? How can my great-uncle help it?

FRANCOIS. Why do you mention your great-uncle?

ALBIN. Well, I do so because they actually held a meeting in our
village--quite openly--and at the meeting they actually called my
great-uncle, the Comte de Tremouille, a corn-usurer.

FRANCOIS. Is that all?

ALBIN. Nay, is that not enough!

FRANCOIS. We will go to the Palais-Royal tomorrow, and there you will
have a chance of hearing the monstrous speeches the fellows make. But
we let them speak--it is the best thing to do. They are good people at
bottom; one must let them bawl themselves out in that way.

ALBIN (pointing to SCAEVOLA, etc.). What suspicious characters
those are! Just see how they look at one. (He feels for his sword.)

FRANCOIS (draws his hand away). Don't be ridiculous. (To the three
others.) You need not begin yet; wait till there is more audience.
(To ALBIN.) They're the most respectable people in the world, actors
are. I will warrant you have already sat at table with worse knaves.

ALBIN. But they were better attired. [HOST brings wine.]

Enter MICHETTE and FLIPOTTE.

FRANCOIS. God be with you, children! Come and sit down by us.

MICHETTE. Here we are. Come along, Flipotte. She is still somewhat shy.

FLIPOTTE. Good evening, young gentleman.

ALBIN. Good evening, ladies.

MICHETTE. The little one is a dear. (She sits on ALBIN'S lap.)

ALBIN. But, Francois, please explain, are these respectable ladies?

MICHETTE. What does he say?

FRANCOIS. No, that's not quite the word for the ladies who come here.
Odds life, you are silly, Albin!

HOST. What shall I bring for their Graces?

MICHETTE. Bring me a very sweet wine.

FRANCOIS (pointing to FLIPOTTE). A friend of yours?

MICHETTE. We live together. Yes, we have only one bed between us.

FLIPOTTE (blushing). Would you find it a very great nuisance should
you come and see her! (Sits on FRANCOIS'S lap.)

ALBIN. She is not at all shy.

SCAEVOLA (stands up; gloomily turning to the table where the young
people are). At last I've found you. (To ALBIN.) And you, you
miserable seducer, aren't you ashamed that you ... She is mine.

[HOST looks on.]

FRANCOIS (to ALBIN). a jo