Gaston—­The deuce, my dear father-in-law.  A family council!  You embarrass me!

Poirier—­Not at all, dear Gaston.  Let us sit down.

[They seat themselves around the fireplace.]

Gaston—­Begin, Monsieur Poirier.

Poirier—­You say you are happy, dear Gaston, and that is my greatest recompense.

Gaston—­I’m willing to double your gratification.

Poirier—­But now that three months have been given to the joys of the honeymoon, I think that there has been romance enough, and that it’s time to think about history.

Gaston—­You talk like a book.  Certainly, we’ll think about history if you wish.  I’m willing.

Poirier—­What do you intend to do?

Gaston—­To-day?

Poirier—­And to-morrow, and in the future.  You must have some idea.

Gaston—­True, my plans are made.  I expect to do to-day what I did yesterday, and to-morrow what I shall do to-day.  I’m not versatile, in spite of my light air; and if the future is only like the present I’ll be satisfied.

Poirier—­But you are too sensible to think that the honeymoon can last forever.

Gaston—­Too sensible, and too good an astronomer.  But you’ve probably read Heine?

Poirier—­You must have read that, Verdelet?

Verdelet—­Yes; I’ve read him.

Poirier—­Perhaps he spent his life at playing truant.

Gaston—­Well, Heine, when he was asked what became of the old full moons, said that they were broken up to make the stars.

Poirier—­I don’t understand.

Gaston—­When our honeymoon is old, we’ll break it up and there’ll be enough to make a whole Milky Way.

Poirier—­That is a clever idea, of course.

Gaston—­Its only merit is simplicity.

Poirier—­But seriously, don’t you think that the idle life you lead may jeopardize the happiness of a young household?

Gaston—­Not at all.

Verdelet—­A man of your capacity can’t mean to idle all his life.

Gaston—­With resignation.

Antoinette—­Don’t you think you’ll find it dull after a time, Gaston?

Gaston—­You calumniate yourself, my dear.

Antoinette—­I’m not vain enough to suppose that I can fill your whole existence, and I admit that I’d like to see you follow the example of Monsieur de Montmeyran.

Gaston [rising and leaning against the mantelpiece]—­Perhaps you want me to fight?

Antoinette—­No, of course not.

Gaston—­What then?

Poirier—­We want you to take a position worthy of your name.

Gaston—­There are only three positions which my name permits me:  soldier, bishop, or husbandman.  Choose.