ARAMINTE: How's that?
VALERE: It's Frontin himself.
BELISE: Where are we?
VALERE: A scoundrel of a valet to pretend to be such a person.
ARAMINTE: A valet?
BELISE: A valet.
GERONTE: The wisest thing would be to ask us about this matter in private.
ISABELLE: Pardon the nephew for the valet's sake.
BELISE: Oh, sister.
ARAMINTE: Oh, sis, let's hide our shame from them.