Weathervane (angrily). Je ne le croirai point! How stubborn you are!
Indolent (excitedly). The devil....
Mrs. Indolent (rapidly). My darling, please do not get angry.
Indolent (excitedly). Both of you go to! I have not seen the like of him in all my life.
Mrs. Indolent. You are a philosopher, and does Seneca, sir, teach you that?
Indolent (coolly). I am ready to constrain myself, if only he will talk Russian with me.
Weathervane. What! you are of a very noble origin, and you are piqued?
Indolent (beside himself). Who told you so? I am of burgher origin, but of a good family.
Weathervane. You, monsieur, have been a nobleman these thousand years.
Indolent. Believe me, I am a new-baked dumpling; but I am more juicy than those that have grown tough.