BERGAMIN. By the side of this wall?
PERCINET. I love it!
BERGAMIN. I see nothing lovable about it!
SYLVETTE. [Aside] He can't see why!
PERCINET. But it is charming, all covered with ivy and creeper. See here, what honeysuckle! This hundred-year-old wall, with its clinging vines, its constellations of flowers, looking through the crannies, kissed by the summer sun, makes the bench a throne fit for kings!
BERGAMIN. Nonsense, you hare-brained youth! Do you mean to tell me that this wall has eyes?
PERCINET. Ah, what eyes! [Turns toward the wall.] Of soft azure, yet dazzlingly blue; let but a tear come to dim your brightness, or a single kiss—
BERGAMIN. But the wall hasn't eyes, you idiot!
PERCINET. See this vine, though! [He plucks part of the vine from the wall and graciously presents it to his father.]
SYLVETTE. [Aside] How clever!