Mars was reconciled with Diana, and Jove, for the sake of domestic peace, packed his little laundress off into a constellation.

And finally they extricated Love from his black hole, where instead of conjugating the verb AMO he had been busy in the manufacture of "dollies." The curtain fell on an apotheosis, wherein the cuckolds' chorus knelt and sang a hymn of gratitude to Venus, who stood there with smiling lips, her stature enhanced by her sovereign nudity.
The audience, already on their feet, were making for the exits.

The authors were mentioned, and amid a thunder of applause there were two calls before the curtain.

The shout of "Nana! Nana!" rang wildly forth.
Then no sooner was the house empty than it grew dark: the footlights went out; the chandelier was turned down; long strips of gray canvas slipped from the stage boxes and swathed the gilt ornamentation of the galleries, and the house, lately so full of heat and noise, lapsed suddenly into a heavy sleep, while a musty, dusty odor began to pervade it.

In the front of her box stood the Countess Muffat.