CLEONTE: Yes, perfidious one, it is, since I must speak; and I must tell that you shall not triumph in your faithlessness as you think, I want to be the first to break with you, and you won't have the advantage of driving me away. I will have difficulty in conquering the love I have for you; it will cause me pain; I will suffer for a while. But I'll come through it, and I would rather stab myself through the heart than have the weakness to return to you. COVIELLE: Me too. LUCILE: What an uproar over nothing. I want to tell you, Cleonte, what made me avoid joining you this morning. CLEONTE: No, I don't want to listen to anything... NICOLE: I want to tell you what made us pass so quickly. COVIELLE: I don't want to hear anything. LUCILE: (Following Cleonte) Know that this morning... CLEONTE: No, I tell you. NICOLE: (Following Covielle) Learn that... COVIELLE: No, traitor. LUCILE: Listen. CLEONTE: I won't listen. NICOLE: Let me speak. COVIELLE: I'm deaf. LUCILE: Cleonte! CLEONTE: No. NICOLE: Covielle! COVIELLE: I won't listen. LUCILE: Stop. CLEONTE: Gibberish! NICOLE: Listen to me. COVIELLE: Rubbish! LUCILE: One moment. CLEONTE: Never. NICOLE: A little patience. COVIELLE: Not interested! LUCILE: Two words. CLEONTE: No, you've had them. NICOLE: One word. COVIELLE: No more talking. LUCILE: Alright! Since you don't want to listen to me, think what you like, and do what you want. NICOLE: Since you act like that, make whatever you like of it all. CLEONTE: Let us know the reason, then, for such a fine reception. LUCILE: It no longer pleases me to say. COVIELLE: Let us know something of your story. NICOLE: I, myself, no longer want to tell you. CLEONTE: Tell me... LUCILE: No, I don't want to say anything. COVIELLE: Tell it... NICOLE: No, I'll tell nothing. CLEONTE: For pity... LUCILE: No, I say. COVIELLE: Have mercy. NICOLE: It's no use. CLEONTE: I beg you. LUCILE: Leave me... COVIELLE: I plead with you. NICOLE: Get out of here. CLEONTE: Lucile! LUCILE: No. COVIELLE: Nicole! NICOLE: Never. CLEONTE: In the name of God!... LUCILE: I don't want to. COVIELLE: Talk to me. NICOLE: Definitely not. CLEONTE: Clear up my doubts. LUCILE: No, I'll do nothing. COVIELLE: Relieve my mind! NICOLE: No, I don't care to. CLEONTE: Alright! since you are so little concerned to take me out of my pain and to justify yourself for the shameful treatment you gave to my passion, you are seeing me, ingrate, for the last time, and I am going far from you to die of sorrow and love. COVIELLE: And I--I will follow in his steps. LUCILE: Cleonte! NICOLE: Covielle! CLEONTE: What? COVIELLE: Yes? LUCILE: Where are you going? CLEONTE: Where I told you. COVIELLE: We are going to die. LUCILE: You are going to die, Cleonte? CLEONTE: Yes, cruel one, since you wish it. LUCILE: Me! I wish you to die? CLEONTE: Yes, you wish it. LUCILE: Who told you that?