heat! Can't we have something to drink? [A Guard gets a pitcher of water, which is passed around. The Guards are together at the left, with their officer; they are indifferent and bored. The Pensioners, opposite, stand about the cannon where Vintimille is writing. They watch with respect every movement he makes. Béquart holds the inkstand for him. Vintimille reads in a low voice to Béquart what he has written, Béquart nodding approval. His comrades repeat the words among themselves, likewise nodding.]
The Pensioners [with mingled irony and approval]. The lamb has captured the wolf.
Vintimille. I demand their promise that no one shall be harmed.
Béquart. It costs us nothing to ask.
Vintimille [smiling]. It costs nothing to promise. [He goes to de Flue.] Will you sign?
De Flue [as he signs]. Fine way to fight!—Well, it's not my affair.
Vintimille. The difficulty is not in writing, but in making them read what we write. [The Pensioners, approaching the gate, are greeted by musket-shots.]
The Pensioners. They're desperate. They won't let any one come near.
Béquart. Give me the love-missive.
The Pensioners. You'll get killed, Béquart.
Béquart. What do I care? I'm not capitulating in order to save myself.
The Swiss Guards. Why, then?
The Pensioners [pointing to the People]. To save them! [Among themselves, scornfully.] They don't
