!

(_Checks himself, seeing a fire in the stove._)

See I a fire here?

RUD. (_to_ COLLINE) Gently, it is my drama.

COL. In blazes!
I find it very sparkling.

RUD. Brilliant! (_the fire languishes_)

COL. Too short its phrases.

RUD. Brevity's deemed a treasure.

COL. (_taking the chair from_ RUDOLPH)
Your chair pray give me, author.

MAR. These foolish entr'actes merely make us shiver. Quickly!

RUD. (_taking another portion of the_ MS.) Here is the next act.

MAR. (_to_ COLLINE) Hush! not a whisper.

(RUDOLPH _tears up the_ MS. _and throws it into the fireplace; the
flames revive._ COLLINE _moves his chair nearer and warms his
hands._ RUDOLPH _is standing near the two with the rest of the_
MS.)

COL. How deep the thought is!

MAR. Color how true!

RUD. In that blue smoke my drama is dying
Full of its love-scenes ardent and new.

COL. A leaf see crackle!

MAR. Those were all the kisses.

RUD. (_throwing the remaining_ MS. _on the fire_)
Three acts at once I desire to hear.

COL. Only the daring can dream such visions.

RUD., MAR. and COL. Dreams that in flame soon disappear.

(_Applaud enthusiastically; the flame diminishes._)

MAR. Ye gods! see the leaves well-nigh perished.

COL. How vain is the drama we cherished.

MAR. They crackle! they curl up! they die!

MAR. and COL. The author--down with him, we cry.

(_From the middle door two boys enter, carrying provisions and fuel;
the three friends turn, and with a surprised cry, seize the provisions
and place them on the table._ COLLINE _carries the wood to the
fireplace._)

RUD. Fuel!

MAR. Wine, too!

COL. Cigars!

RUD. Fuel!

MAR. Bordeaux!

RUD., MAR. and COL. The abundance of a feast day
We are destined yet to know.

(_Exeunt the two boys_)

(_Enter_ SCHAUNARD.)

SCH. (_triumphantly throwing some coins on the ground_)
Such wealth in the balance
Outweighs the Bank of France.

COL. (_assisting_ RUDOLPH _and_ MARCEL _to pick up the coins_)
Then, take them--then, take them.

MAR. (_incredulously_) Tin medals? Inspect them.

SCH. (_showing one to_ MARCEL)
You're deaf then, or blear-eyed?
What face do they show?

RUD. (_bowing_)
King Louis Philippe: to my monarch I bow.

RUD., MAR., SCH. and COL. Shall King Louis Philippe at our feet thus
lie low?

(SCHAUNARD _will go on recounting his good luck, but the others
continue to arrange everything on the table._)

SCH. Now I'll explain.
This gold has--or rather