Vezinet (Carrying a boot-jack; to Nonancourt).—Look, I've found a boot-jack!
Nonancourt.—Sh! Go, my daughter. (Sighing.) Alas!
Bobin (Likewise).—Alas!
(The ladies lead the bride into the room at the left, background. Bobin makes as if to follow. Nonancourt restrains him, and makes him enter the room, at the right, giving him the myrtle. Vezinet disappears behind the curtains of the back; closes them.)
Nonancourt (Looking at the screen, and speaking angrily).—I—er—but he doesn't move, within there! Can the wretch have fallen asleep? And during my remarks? (Roughly opens the screen.) Nobody! (Seeing Fadinard enter quickly, by the door at the left, which the screen was concealing.) Ah!
Fadinard (Crosses stage. To himself).—She's not here; I've searched the whole apartment; she's not here!
Nonancourt.—Son-in-law, what is the meaning of . .
Fadinard.—You again! Oh, you're not a father-in-law. You're glue!
Nonancourt.—At this solemn moment, Son-in-law . . . !
Fadinard.—Oh, let me alone!
Nonancourt (Following him).—I think that your conduct is due to anachronism in your temperament. You're rather lukewarm, Son-in-law!
Fadinard.—Oh! Go to bed!
Nonancourt.—I'm going; but tomorrow, before sunrise, we shall continue our conversation. (Enters room into which Bobin went, at the right.)
Fadinard (Walking up and down).—She is not here! I've searched everywhere, and have hunted through the whole place—only to find a collection of hats—blue, yellow, green, grey—rainbow! But not one of straw!
Beauperthuis (Entering by the same door as did Fadinard).—There he is. He's ransacked the apartment. Ah, now, I have you! (Grabs him by the throat.)
Fadinard (Struggling).—Let me go!
Beauperthuis.—Don't struggle. I've a pistol in each pocket. . . !
Fadinard (Trying to get away).—Impossible! (While Beauperthius is holding him by the throat, Fadinard plunges his hands into the other's pockets, draws two pistols, and levels them.)
Beauperthuis (Releasing him; recoiling).—Murder! Help!
Fadinard (Shouting).—Don't call for help! Or I'll do some-
