_The same._ Brichanteau
BRICHANTEAU.
Ah! two words!
[_Laughing._] He's looking pretty well for a dead man!
SAVERNY (_low, indicating The Marquis, who passes_).
Why do you make me grieve him, Brichanteau?
I think we might explain it to him now.
Oh, let me try.
BRICHANTEAU.
No; God forbid, my friend!
His grief must be sincere; he must weep much.
His woe is one good half of your disguise.
SAVERNY.
Poor uncle!
BRICHANTEAU.
He will find it out ere long.
SAVERNY.
If sorrow has not killed him, then joy will.
These shocks are dangerous to such old men.
BRICHANTEAU.
It must be done!
SAVERNY.
I cannot bear to hear
Him laugh so bitterly, then weep; then keep
So still! I hate to see him kiss that coffin.
BRICHANTEAU.
Yes--a fine coffin with no corpse in it!
SAVERNY.
But I am dead and bleeding in his heart.
The corpse lies there.
LAFFEMAS (_coming back_).
Alas, the poor old man!
His eyes show plainly how he's suffering!
BRICHANTEAU (_low to Saverny_).
Who is that surly-looking man in black?
SAVERNY (_with gesture of ignorance_).
Some friend who's living at the castle?
BRICHANTEAU (_low_).
Crows
Are also black and love the smell of death.
Keep silence more than ever. 'Tis a face
That's treacherous and evil; it would make
A madman prudent.
[_The Marquis de Nangis re-enters; he is still absorbed in a deep
reverie. He walks slowly, does not appear to notice any one, and seats
himself upon a bank of turf._