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Updated: June 16, 2025
"But you don't mean that you are leaving us?" cried Polichinelle in alarm, whilst Rhodomont's sudden stare asked the same question. Scaramouche's shrug was eloquent. Polichinelle ran on gloomily: "Of course it was to have been foreseen. But why should you be the one to go?
But it is a dangerous game. Shall I give you an instance? Natoile, who runs a little outdoor theatre in the Champs Élysées, was arrested the day before yesterday for anti-patriotism, because he made Polichinelle poke fun at the Convention."
The company's reception of the canevas now confirmed him, if we except Polichinelle, who, annoyed at having lost half his part in the alterations, declared the new scenario fatuous. "Ah! You call my work fatuous, do you?" M. Binet hectored him. "Your work?" said Polichinelle, to add with his tongue in his cheek: "Ah, pardon. I had not realized that you were the author." "Then realize it now."
"Let me think it out," groaned Polichinelle, and he took his head in his hands. But from the tail of the table Andre-Louis was challenged by Climene who sat there between Columbine and Madame. "You would alter the comedy, would you, M. Parvissimus?" she cried. He turned to parry her malice. "I would suggest that it be altered," he corrected, inclining his head.
After him they came now, their swords out; but after them again came Polichinelle, Rhodomont, Harlequin, Pierrot, Pasquariel, and Basque the artist, armed with such implements as they could hastily snatch up, and intent upon saving the man with whom they sympathized in spite of all, and in whom now all their hopes were centred.
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