Straforel.  I see one star already.  The day is dying [He places his men about the stage.] Stay there—­you there—­and you there.  The hour is near.  You will see, as the clock strikes eight, a figure in white enter on this side.  Then I whistle—­[He looks at the sky again.] The moon?  Splendid!  Every effect is perfect to-night. [Examining the costumes of his band] The capes and mantels are excellent.  Look a little more dangerous, over there!  Now, ready? [A sedan-chair is brought in.] The chair over there in the shade. [Seeing the negroes who carry the chair] The negroes are good! [Speaking at a distance] Torches, there, you understand you are not to come until you receive the signal? [The faint reflection of the torches is seen at the back of the stage, through the underbrush.  Enter the musicians.] Musicians?  There—­ at the back.  Now, a little distinction and life!  Vary your poses from time to time.  Stand straight, mandolin!  Sit down, alto!  There. [Severely to a swordsman] You, first mask, don’t look so harmless—­I want a villainous slouch!  Good!  Now, instruments, play softly—­tune up!  Good—­tra la la! [He puts on his mask.]

[Percinet enters slowly from the other side of the stage.  As he speaks the following lines, the stage becomes darker, until at the end, it is night.]

Percinet.  My father is calmer now.  The day is dying, and the intoxicating odor of the elders is wafted to me; the flowers close their petals in the gray of the evening—­

Straforel. [Aside to the violins] Music!

[The musicians play softly until the end of the act.]

Percinet.  I tremble like a reed.  She is coming!

Straforel. [To the musicians] Amoroso!

Percinet.  My first evening meeting—­I can scarcely stand!  The evening breeze sounds like the fluttering of her dress.  Now I can’t see the flowers, but I can smell them.  Ah, this great tree, with a star above it—­Music?  Who—? [A pause.] Night has come. [After another pause, a clock strikes eight in the distance.  Sylvette appears at the back of her park.]

Sylvette.  The hour has struck.  He must be waiting.

[A whistle is heard.  Straforel rises in front of Sylvette, and torch-bearers appear in the background.  Sylvette screams.  The swordsmen seize and put her into the sedan-chair.]

Sylvette.  Help!  Help!

Percinet.  Great Heavens!

Sylvette.  Percinet, they are carrying me off!

Percinet. [Leaping to the wall] I come! [When he reaches the top of the wall, he draws his sword, jumps down on the other side, and engages four or five swordsmen in combat.  They flee before him.] There, and there, and there!

Straforel. [To the musicians] Tremolo!

[The violins now play a dramatic tremolo.]