BISHOP.  This house does not demand of him who enters whether he has a name, but whether he has a grief.  You suffer—­you are hungry—­you are welcome.

JEAN.  I cannot understand it—­

BISHOP.  This house is home to the man who needs a refuge.  So, sir, this is your house now more than it is mine.  Whatever is here is yours.  What need have I to know your name?  Besides, before you told me, I knew it.

JEAN.  What!  You knew my name!

BISHOP.  Yes, your name is—­Brother.

JEAN.  Stop!  I cannot bear it—­you are so good—­

[He buries his face in his hands.]

[Enter MADAME with dishes for the table; she continues passing in and out, preparing supper.]

BISHOP.  You have suffered much, sir—­

JEAN (nodding).  The red shirt, the ball on the ankle, a plank to sleep on, heat, cold, toil, the whip, the double chain for nothing, the cell for one word—­even when sick in bed, still the chain!  Dogs, dogs are happier!  Nineteen years! and now the yellow passport!

BISHOP.  Yes, you have suffered.

JEAN (with violence).  I hate this world of laws and courts!  I hate the men who rule it!  For nineteen years my soul has had only thoughts of hate.  For nineteen years I’ve planned revenge.  Do you hear?  Revenge—­revenge!

BISHOP.  It is not strange that you should feel so.  And if you continue to harbor those thoughts, you are only deserving of pity.  But listen, my brother; if, in spite of all you have passed through, your thoughts could be of peace and love, you would be better than any one of us.

[Pause.  Jean reflects.]

JEAN (speaking violently).  No, no!  I do not belong to your world of men.  I am apart—­a different creature from you all.  The galleys made me different.  I’ll have nothing to do with any of you!

MADAME.  The supper, your Reverence.

[The Bishop glances at the table.]

BISHOP.  It strikes me there is something missing from this table.

[Madame hesitates.]

MLLE. Madame, do you not understand?

[Madame steps to a cupboard, gets the remaining silver plates, and places them on the table.]

BISHOP (gayly, turning to Jean).  To table then, my friend!  To table!

[Jean remains for a moment, standing doggedly apart; then he steps over to the chair awaiting him, jerks it back, and sinks into it, without looking up.]

SCENE III

TIME:  Daybreak the next morning.

PLACE:  The Bishop’s dining room.

* * * * *

[The room is dark, except for a faint light that comes in through window curtains. JEAN VALJEAN creeps in from the alcove.  He carries his knapsack and cudgel in one hand; in the other, his shoes.  He opens the window overlooking the garden; the room becomes lighter.  Jean steps to the mantel and lifts a silver candlestick.]