Page:Poet Lore, volume 28, 1917.djvu/57

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ENGENE LABICHE AND MARC MICHEL
43

. . . You send us to bed in the house of a stranger . . . You allow your young wife ... in the house of a stranger . . . son-in-law, it's all off!

Fadinard.—You make me sick! (To Beauperthuis.) Sir, will you deign to overlook a slight mistake . . .

Nonancourt.—Let's put on our clothes, Bobin.

Bobin.—Yes, Uncle . . .

Fadinard.—That's it; let's go to my house . . . I'll go on, ahead of my wife . . . (Goes toward her; Beauperthuis restrains him.)

Beauperthuis (Sotto voce).—Sir, my wife has not come home!

Fadinard.—Then she's missed the 'bus . . .

Beauperthuis (Taking off his nightshirt and putting on his coat).—She is at your house . . .

Fadinard.—I don't think so . . . The lady there is a negress . . . Is your wife colored?

Beauperthuis.—Do you see anything green in my eye, Sir?

Fadinard.—I hadn't noticed . . .

Nonancourt.—Bobin, my sleeve!

Bobin.—Here, Uncle.

Beauperthuis (To Fadinard).—Where do you live, Sir?

Fadinard.—I don't live . . .

Nonancourt.—Number eight . . .

Fadinard (Hastily).—Don't tell him!

Nonancourt (Loudly).—Number eight, Baudoyer Square! Rascal!

Fadinard (Hopelessly).—All over!

Nonancourt.—Let's go, Daughter . . .

Bobin.—Let's all go!

Beauperthuis (Seizing Fadinard's arm).—Go, Sir!

Fadinard.—She's a negress!

Virginie (Entering by the door at the left, carries a cup upon a tray. Half opening the curtains of the alcove.)

Virginie.—Sir, here is your borage . . .

Vezinet (Rising up from his couch).—Thanks, I won't take anything.

Virginie (Dropping the cup).—Ah!

Vezinet.—Same to you; and many of them. (Falls back upon the couch; turns over.)


Curtain