[BUQUET scares the dancers, the dancers scream.]

[BUQUET]
Like yellow parchment is his skin
A great black hole serves as the nose that never grew
You must be always on your guard
Or he will catch you with his magical lasso

[MADAME GIRY]
Those who speak of what they know
Find too late, that prudent silence is wise
Joseph Buquet, hold your tongue
Keep your hand at the level of your eyes