SECOND MARQUIS:
Ah! How exquisite their fancy names are! Do you know them all, Marquis?

FIRST MARQUIS:
Ay, Marquis, I do, every one!

LIGNIERE (drawing Christian aside):
Friend, I but came here to give you pleasure. The lady comes not. I will
betake me again to my pet vice.

CHRISTIAN (persuasively):
No, no! You, who are ballad-maker to Court and City alike, can tell me
better than any who the lady is for whom I die of love. Stay yet awhile.

THE FIRST VIOLIN (striking his bow on the desk):
Gentlemen violinists!

(He raises his bow.)

THE BUFFET-GIRL:
Macaroons, lemon-drink. . .

(The violins begin to play.)

CHRISTIAN:
Ah! I fear me she is coquettish, and over nice and fastidious!
I, who am so poor of wit, how dare I speak to her--how address her?
This language that they speak to-day--ay, and write--confounds me;
I am but an honest soldier, and timid withal. She has ever her place,
there, on the right--the empty box, see you!