THE PICKPOCKET:
At the Porte de Nesle. On his way homeward. Warn him.

CHRISTIAN (letting go of his wrists):
But where can I find him?

THE PICKPOCKET:
Run round to all the taverns--The Golden Wine Press, the Pine Cone, The Belt
that Bursts, The Two Torches, The Three Funnels, and at each leave a word that
shall put him on his guard.

CHRISTIAN:
Good--I fly! Ah, the scoundrels! A hundred men 'gainst one!
(Looking lovingly at Roxane):
Ah, to leave her!. . .
(looking with rage at Valvert):
and him!. . .But save Ligniere I must!

(He hurries out. De Guiche, the viscount, the marquises, have all disappeared
behind the curtain to take their places on the benches placed on the stage.
The pit is quite full; the galleries and boxes are also crowded.)

THE AUDIENCE:
Begin!

A BURGHER (whose wig is drawn up on the end of a string by a page in the upper
gallery):
My wig!