Pasquinot. [Readjusting his clothes and holding BERGAMIN’s wig] Here’s your wig!

Bergamin.  And here’s yours!

Pasquinot.  After this, you can’t imagine I’ll—?

Bergamin.  I would no more live with you now than—­

[Enter Sylvette.]

Pasquinot.  My daughter!—­Say nothing about this!

Sylvette. [Throwing her arms about her father’s neck] Papa, I can’t marry Percinet!

[Enter the notary and four witnesses.]

Bergamin.  The witnesses!  The devil!

Witnesses.  What—?

Straforel. [In the midst of the tumult] My bill!  Who is going to pay me?  Ninety pistoles!

[Enter the guests and three FIDDLERS, who play.]

Bergamin.  What’s all this?  The guests?  Music?

[The FIDDLERS continue their minuet.]

Straforel. [To Bergamin] Well?

Bergamin.  See Pasquinot.

Straforel. [Reading] “For the purposes of bringing about a marriage—­”

Bergamin.  Well, there is to be no marriage!  Therefore I owe you nothing!

[Enter Blaise.]

Straforel. [To Pasquinot] But, Monsieur—­

Pasquinot.  What?  Pay you now that it is broken off!

Bergamin. [To whom Blaise has just whispered] My son—­run away?

Sylvette.  Run away?

Straforel.  Well!  Well!

Bergamin.  Quick, follow him! [He runs out, followed by the notary and the witnesses.]

Sylvette.  Gone!

Straforel. [Coming down-stage] Why can’t I straighten all this out?

Sylvette.  This is too much! [She goes out, followed by Pasquinot.]

Straforel.  Straforel, my son, if you want your ninety pistoles, you must patch up this marriage! [He goes out.  The three FIDDLERS, left alone, continue their minuet, as the curtain falls.]

Curtain

* * * * *

ACT III

Scene:  The scene is the same except that the wall is being rebuilt.  Bricks and sacks of plaster lie about.

As the curtain rises, the mason is seen at work with his trowel.  His back is turned to the audience.  Bergamin and Pasquinot, each on his own side of the wall, watch the progress of the work.

The mason. [Singing at his work] Tra la la—­

Bergamin.  These masons are so slow!

Pasquinot.  Good!

Bergamin.  How he slaps the mortar!

Pasquinot.  There goes another brick!

[The mason sings a number of trills.]