Widow That would be too much for me, a former maid. That's what I was when I was in Paris. But here I have a higher rank which I obtained from my late husband, a head magistrate. Thus, I've been ennobled in this village, a fine nobility at bottom and which is worth a good bit, a nobility that one can take to Paris. Girard Let's renew our discussion and talk of Lisette again. Because, having so much power over her, being her neighbor, and a sort of surrogate parent, you are working hard to turn her into a coquette, instead of making her wiser. Widow Language of Paris. That's what will make her perfect. Girard Some perfection! Alas, you make her worse, when you come here to refine her wit. You make her heart more false and more vain. Widow At nine years, she was already a coquette in embryo. I have only pointed her in her natural direction--so her beauty will not prove worthless and she will profit by a fine marriage. I only want Lisette to be wise. She's naturally exquisite, and I've simply added to her talents all that I have learned. Girard With so many perfections you will make her a prodigy of coquetry. Widow So much the better, I tell you. That's what makes beauty and wit valued. We've argued about this so many times. By coquette I mean a girl who is very wise; who knows how to take advantage of other's foibles; who always exhibits sangfroid in the midst of dangers. One who profits from opportunity which she knows how to manage and uses her reason when we lose ours. A wise coquette is more knowing than anyone else because she is always exposed and always in a battle. One cannot deny that the strongest virtue is one that undergoes and survives the hardest tests. The coquette has prerogatives much more beautiful than a prude's. That beautiful right is the right of being happy. A prude, in her life, marries, but once or twice, but the clever coquette never marries at all. She flatters, she raises hopes, she promises, but she never gives in--thus through her wisdom leaving each one to his love and desires, she makes pleasure last. Girard In my opinion Lisette is making my pain too harsh. It's useless to complain to her father, alas, complaining is no good. He scorns me. Widow Yes, because you are leaving your condition in life. You are soliciting my relative and you are only a flat foot. Girard Very flat-footed, right. But, without belittling myself. Do I owe Lucas respect? He owes me some, perhaps. But now each of us rests on his pedestal, and for a collector to be the son-in-law of a farmer, it's by right of the game.