Jean—O, when you look at me, Angelica, I am full of shame. I am crushed to the stones with shame. Do not look at me so, I cannot bear it. (He covers his face with his hands).
Angelica—But, yes, I must look at you; I must know this face, sad and furrowed as it is. Take away your hands; let me see your eyes!
Jean—Then see, and I will tell you why your look pains me to the heart and why I cannot lift my eyes to yours. When I was—
Angelica—Hush! (She speaks imperatively and puts her hand over his mouth but he pulls it away.)
Jean—But why? You wanted to know, and now I want to tell you; I will tell you every bad thing I ever did!
Angelica—No, no, no, no! I will not hear! I will stop my ears. I do not want to hear. Not a word, not a word!
Jean—But it is the truth and I want you to know the truth, all the truth.
Angelica—I know the truth, I see the truth in your face, all of the truth that I want to know; I see it in the lines and shadows beneath your eyes.
Jean—But if I do not tell you more, you will find it out yourself and then you will not love me!
Angelica—Telling or not telling will not change my love. I have loved you—