am in full possession of my faculties. I am lucid, quite lucid. I
consider this occurrence quite proper, and I approve of what has
happened. When she awakes I will explain everything to her clearly. The
catastrophe will not be long in coming. No more Gwynplaine. Good-night,
Dea. How well all has been arranged! Gwynplaine in prison, Dea in the
cemetery, they will be _vis-a-vis_! A dance of death! Two destinies
going off the stage at once. Pack up the dresses. Fasten the valise. For
valise, read coffin. It was just what was best for them both. Dea
without eyes, Gwynplaine without a face. On high the Almighty will
restore sight to Dea and beauty to Gwynplaine. Death puts things to
rights. All will be well. Fibi, Vinos, hang up your tambourines on the
nail. Your talents for noise will go to rust, my beauties; no more
playing, no more trumpeting 'Chaos Vanquished' is vanquished. 'The
Laughing Man' is done for. 'Taratantara' is dead. Dea sleeps on. She
does well. If I were she I would never awake. Oh! she will soon fall
asleep again. A skylark like her takes very little killing. This comes
of meddling with politics. What a lesson! Governments are right.
Gwynplaine to the sheriff. Dea to the grave-digger. Parallel cases!
Instructive symmetry! I hope the tavern-keeper has barred the door. We
are going to die to-night quietly at home, between ourselves--not I, nor
Homo, but Dea. As for me, I shall continue to roll on in the caravan. I
belong to the meanderings of vagabond life. I shall dismiss these two
women. I shall not keep even one of them. I have a tendency to become an
old scoundrel. A maidservant in the house of a libertine is like a loaf
of bread on the shelf. I decline the temptation. It is not becoming at
my age. _Turpe senilis amor_. I will follow my way alone with Homo. How
astonished Homo will be! Where is Gwynplaine? Where is Dea? Old comrade,
here we are once more alone together. Plague take it! I'm delighted.
Their bucolics were an encumbrance. Oh! that scamp Gwynplaine, who is
never coming back. He has left us stuck here. I say 'All right.' And
now 'tis Dea's turn. That won't be long. I like things to be done with.
I would not snap my fingers to stop her dying--her dying, I tell you!
See, she awakes!"

Dea opened her eyelids; many blind persons shut them when they sleep.
Her sweet unwitting face wore all its usual radiance.

"She smiles," whispered Ursus, "and I laugh. That is as it should be."

Dea called,--