What fine ribbons! How call you the color, Count de Guiche? 'Kiss me, my
darling,' or 'Timid Fawn?'

DE GUICHE:
'Tis the color called 'Sick Spaniard.'

FIRST MARQUIS:
'Faith! The color speaks truth, for, thanks to your valor, things will soon
go ill for Spain in Flanders.

DE GUICHE:
I go on the stage! Will you come?
(He goes toward the stage, followed by the marquises and gentlemen. Turning,
he calls):
Come you Valvert!

CHRISTIAN (who is watching and listening, starts on hearing this name):
The Viscount! Ah! I will throw full in his face my. . .
(He puts his hand in his pocket, and finds there the hand of a pickpocket who
is about to rob him. He turns round):
Hey?

THE PICKPOCKET:
Oh!

CHRISTIAN (holding him tightly):
I was looking for a glove.

THE PICKPOCKET (smiling piteously):
And you find a hand.