VALERE: What stupid remarks. Always the same rubric. But nothing comes from their gothic spirit. Without worldliness, visiting no one except her sister who is less hard than she is, but crazier from misfortune.
ISABELLE: I am a little less furious with Araminte. For a few moments I thought I'd won her over. But her character is subject to change. Agitating itself with several passions at the same time, in her burning and turbulent vivacity. Here's what was told me by this aunt. "I rave from time to time but I have some sentiments. I love love but I hate lovers. Abhor them, too. I intend it, I order it. Without cease I promise but I never give, I hate my nephew a lot but I love you a great deal." From this balderdash I still conclude that she will do more for you than her sister.— My father's coming.
VALERE: I am going to learn my fate.
ISABELLE: I tremble. Oh, I see him overwhelmed with chagrin.
VALERE: His approach seizes me. My misfortune is certain.
(Enter Geronte)
GERONTE: You perceive by observing my sadness that I have received only a refusal. My goodness, my fondness spoke loudly for you on this occasion. Take your leave daughter.
ISABELLE: Must we part?
GERONTE: Yes, daughter.
VALERE: What can I think?