ROXANE (shutting her eyes):
Ay, speak to me of love.
CHRISTIAN:
I love thee!
ROXANE:
That’s
The theme! But vary it.
CHRISTIAN:
I. . .
ROXANE:
Vary it!
CHRISTIAN:
I love you so!
ROXANE:
Oh! without doubt!—and then?. . .
CHRISTIAN:
And then—I should be—oh!—so glad—so glad
If you would love me!—Roxane, tell me so!
ROXANE (with a little grimace):
I hoped for cream,—you give me gruel! Say
How love possesses you?
CHRISTIAN:
Oh utterly!