ERAS. Those who love are apt to be jealous on the slightest cause of
suspicion, but they can never wish to lose the object of their
adoration, and that you have done.
LUC. Pure jealousy is more respectful.
ERAS. An offence caused by love is looked upon with more indulgence.
LUC. No, Eraste, your flame never burnt very bright.
ERAS. No, Lucile, you never loved me.
LUC. Oh! that does not trouble you much, I suppose; perhaps it would
have been much better for me if... But no more of this idle talk; I do
not say what I think on the subject.
ERAS. Why?
LUC. Because, as we are to break, it would be out of place, it seems to
me.
ERAS. Do we break, then?
LUC. Yes, to be sure; have we not done so already?
ERAS. And you can do this calmly?
LUC. Yes; so can you.
ERAS. I?
LUC. Undoubtedly. It is weakness to let people see that we are hurt by
losing them.
ERAS. But, hard-hearted woman, it is you who would have it so.
LUC. I? not at all; it was you who took that resolution.
ERAS. I? I thought it would please you.
LUC. Me; not at all; you did it for your own satisfaction.
ERAS. But what if my heart should wish to resume its former chain? If,
though very sad, it should sue for pardon...?
[Footnote: An imitation from Horace, book iii.
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