René. My uncle told me so. But I'll see them. I'll persuade them. I'll explain to them.
Thérèse. You know very well they never really liked me, and that they'll be glad of this opportunity of breaking it off.
René. I don't know what to do. But I cannot give you up. What would become of me without you? You're everything to me, everything. And suddenly—because of this dreadful thing—I must give up my whole life's happiness.
Thérèse. Your people are quite right, René.
René. And you, you say that!
He hides his face in his hands. A silence.
Thérèse [gently removing his hands] Look at me, René. You're crying. Oh, my dear love!
René [taking her in his arms] I love you, I love you!
Thérèse. And I love you. Oh, please don't cry any more! [She kisses him] René, dear, don't cry any more! You break my heart. I can't bear it, I'm forgetting all I ought to say to you. [Breaking down] Oh, how dreadful this is! [They cry together. Then she draws herself away from him, saying] This is madness.
René. Ah, stay, Thérèse.