What? about the door?--What are you talking about?--No, come, explain yourself; why do they quarrel about the door? YNIOLD. Because it won't stay open. GOLAUD. Who wants it to stay open?--Come, why do they quarrel? YNIOLD. I don't know, little father; about the light. GOLAUD. I am not talking to you about the light; we will talk of that by and by. I am talking to you about the door. Answer what I ask you; you must learn to talk; it is time.... Do not put your hand in your mouth so;... come.... YNIOLD. Little father! little father!... I won't do it any more.... [_He cries._] GOLAUD. Come; what are you crying for now? What has happened? YNIOLD. Oh! oh! little father, you hurt me.... GOLAUD. I hurt you?--Where did I hurt you? I did not mean to.... YNIOLD. Here, here; on my little arm.... GOLAUD. I did not mean to; come, don't cry any more, and I will give you something to-morrow. YNIOLD. What, little father? GOLAUD. A quiver and some arrows; but tell me what you know about the door. YNIOLD. Big arrows? GOLAUD. Yes, yes; very big arrows.--But why don't they want the door to be open?--Come, answer me sometime!--no, no; do not open your mouth to cry. I am not angry. We are going to have a quiet talk, like Pélléas and little mother when they are together. What do they talk about when they are together? YNIOLD. Pélléas and little mother? GOLAUD. Yes; what do they talk about? YNIOLD. About me; always about me. GOLAUD. And what do they say about you? YNIOLD. They say I am going to be very big. GOLAUD. Oh, plague of my life!... I am here like a blind man searching for his treasure at the bottom of the ocean!... I am here like a new-born child lost in the forest, and you ... Come, come, Yniold, I was wandering; we are going to talk seriously. Do Pélléas and little mother never speak of me when I am not there?... YNIOLD. Yes, yes, little father; they are always speaking of you. GOLAUD. Ah!... And what do they say of me? YNIOLD. They say I shall grow as big as you are. GOLAUD. You are always by them? YNIOLD. Yes, yes, always, always, little father. GOLAUD. They never tell you to go play somewhere else? YNIOLD. No, little father; they are afraid when I am not there. GOLAUD. They are afraid?... What makes you think they are afraid? YNIOLD. Little mother always says, "Don't go away; don't go away!"... They are unhappy, but they laugh.... GOLAUD. But that does not prove they are afraid. YNIOLD. Yes, yes, little father; she is afraid.... GOLAUD. Why do you say she is afraid? YNIOLD. They always weep in the dark. GOLAUD. Ah! ah!... YNIOLD. That makes one weep too. GOLAUD. Yes, yes!... YNIOLD. She is pale, little father. GOLAUD. Ah! ah!... patience, my God, patience!... YNIOLD. What, little father? GOLAUD. Nothing, nothing, my child.--I saw a wolf go by in the forest.--Then they get on well together?--I am glad to learn they are on good terms.--They kiss each other sometimes--No?...