ORPH. Your countenance seems to me anything but cheerful. Can it be my
presence, Éraste, which annoys you? What is the matter? What is amiss?
What makes you heave those sighs at my appearance?
ER. Alas! can you ask me, cruel one, what makes me so sad, and what will
kill me? Is it not malicious to feign ignorance of what you have done to
me? The gentleman whose conversation made you pass me just now...
ORPH. (_Laughing_). Does that disturb you?
ER. Do, cruel one, anew insult my misfortune. Certainly, it ill becomes
you to jeer at my grief, and, by outraging my feelings, ungrateful
woman, to take advantage of my weakness for you.
ORPH. I really must laugh, and declare that you are very silly to
trouble yourself thus. The man of whom you speak, far from being able to
please me, is a bore of whom I have succeeded in ridding myself; one of
those troublesome and officious fools who will not suffer a lady to be
anywhere alone, but come up at once, with soft speech, offering you a
hand against which one rebels. I pretended to be going away, in order to
hide my intention, and he gave me his hand as far as my coach. I soon
got rid of him in that way, and returned by another gate to come to you.
ER. Orphise, can I believe what you say? And is your heart really true
to me?
ORPH. You are most kind to speak thus, when I justify myself against
your frivolous complaints. I am still wonderfully simple, and my foolish
kindness...
ER. Ah! too severe beauty, do not be angry. Being under your sway, I
will implicitly believe whatever you are kind enough to tell me. Deceive
your hapless lover if you will; I shall respect you to the last gasp.
Abuse my love, refuse me yours, show me another lover triumphant; yes, I
will endure everything for your divine charms. I shall die, but even
then I will not complain.
ORPH. As such sentiments rule your heart, I shall know, on my side ...