"Do not let us say anything more about it, fair Marcoline, but let us go to bed, for you have never inspired me with so much ardour as now."
"But you must be tired."
"Yes, but not exhaustion, for I was only able to perform the distillation once."
"I thought you sacrificed twice on that old altar. Poor old woman! she is still pretty, and I have no doubt that fifty years ago she was one of the first beauties in France. How foolish of her to be thinking of love at that age."
"You excited me, but she undid your work even more quickly."
"Are you always obliged to have—a girl beside you when you make love to her?"
"No; before, there was no question of making a son."
"What? you are going to make her pregnant? That's ridiculous! Does she imagine that she has conceived?"
"Certainly; and the hope makes her happy."
"What a mad idea! But why did you try to do it three times?"