John of Paris

OLIVIER.

A thousand pardons for the trouble, my beautiful child.
(He drinks).

LOREZZA.

Trouble? Oh, not at all! It is much rather a pleasure.

OLIVIER.

Come, Mr. Innkeeper; without further delay, please have the small low room prepared.

PÉDRIGO, to himself.

His suite!

OLIVIER.

Well! What is stopping you?

PÉDRIGO.

Oh nothing! It is just that I am thinking of one thing. . . . .
Good heavens, without a doubt!

OLIVIER.

What then?

PÉDRIGO.

I had reserved for my own use a part of the mezzanine; strictly speaking, I can do without this lodging; and if Mr. Jean de Paris wanted to occupy it. . . . .

OLIVIER.

Oh! That would perhaps inconvenience you?

PÉDRIGO.

Not at all.

OLIVIER.

Well! That is excellent: so be it now for the mezzanine!

PÉDRIGO.

He is quite pleasant, this young traveler; quite pleasant!

LOREZZA, aside.

I did not wait as long as my father to notice it.