John of Paris

PÉDRIGO, to Olivier,

But tell me then; who is this Mr. Jean de Paris to be traveling with so much? . . .

OLIVIER.

You have seen nothing yet. I await your reaction at his arrival!! . . . Oh! My master has a way of traveling the country that is not like anyone else’s.

PÉDRIGO.

Really?

OLIVIER.

Listen to this instead.

When my master is on a journey,
Oh! It is superb, in truth;
What a brilliant train! What a retinue!
In his movement, what gaiety!
Also, everywhere, in his path,
Everyone says, quite transported:
"Look, look at such a display!
"What a brilliant train! What a retinue!
"Oh! It is superb, in truth."
One sees people of every sort,
On foot, on horseback, in litters:
One with his horn, too, too, too, who pursues you;
The other with his whip, click, clack, stuns you.

One sees only baggage,

Retinues,

Carriages

And bundles

And horses.

Next comes our music.
Superb and even magnificent;
For it makes such a racket,
That often one cannot hear oneself.
When my master is on a journey, etc.