The Romancers: A Comedy in Three Acts

by Edmond Rostand

SYLVETTE. Yes. Or else, you languish, the doctor declares you cannot live—

PERCINET. And asks: "What ails you?"

SYLVETTE. And you answer: "I must have Sylvette!"

PERCINET. And his pride is then forced to bend.

SYLVETTE. Yes. Or else: an aged duke, having seen my portrait, falls in love with me, sends a 'squire to sue for my hand, and offers to make me a duchess.

PERCINET. And you say, "No!"

SYLVETTE. He is offended, and some dark night when I am in the garden, meditating, he springs forth out of the darkness! I scream!

PERCINET. And I lose not a second in springing over the wall, dagger in hand. I fight like a tiger, I—

SYLVETTE. You lay low three or four men. Then my father rushes in and takes me in his arms. You tell him who you are. His heart softens, he gives me to my savior. Your father consents, for he is proud of your bravery.

PERCINET. Then we live together for years, happy and content!