RUD. How joyous the rays!

MAR. How cheerful the blaze!

(_The door at the back opens violently, and_ COLLINE _enters frozen
and nipped up, stamping his feet, and throwing angrily on the
table a bundle of books tied up in a handkerchief_.)

COL. Surely miracles apocalyptic are dawning!
For Christmas eve they honor by allowing no pawning!

(_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!