SYLVETTE. [Solemnly] I, last of the Pasquinots, do solemnly pledge myself to you, last of the Bergamins.
PERCINET. What noble recklessness!
SYLVETTE. We shall be sung in future ages!
PERCINET. Two tender children of two hard-hearted fathers!
SYLVETTE. But who knows whether the hour is not at hand when our fathers' hatred may end?
PERCINET. I doubt it.
SYLVETTE. I have heard of stranger things. I can think of half a dozen—
PERCINET. What, for instance?
SYLVETTE. Imagine that the reigning prince comes riding past some day—I run to him and kneel, and tell him the story of our love and of our fathers' hatred. The prince asks to see my father and Bergamin, and they are reconciled.
PERCINET. And your father gives me your hand!