ISABELLE: Oh. What blow to Valere.
GERONTE: Your aunts have made this separation imperative.
VALERE: What, charming Isabelle, I mustn't see you any more? What, sir, do you wish to put me in despair? You are going to tear me from Isabelle!
GERONTE: Yes, Valere.
VALERE: Ah, at least beg your father to stay in Paris several more days.
ISABELLE: No, Valere.
VALERE: Oh, sir.
GERONTE: Useless words.
VALERE: Oh, if it is your wish, adorable Isabelle.
GERONTE: I don't wish it, but through care of her. She wishes that which it is her duty to wish. To return to the country immediately without seeing you any further.