Joyzelle.
No, the dead are horrible, if they want us to love those whom we do not love....
Lancéor.
Joyzelle!... I am afraid of you....
Joyzelle.
I said.... What did I say?... Perhaps I was too quick....
Lancéor.
Joyzelle, your eyes are moist at the thought of the dead and belie your words....
Joyzelle.
No, it is not for them.... Perhaps I was harsh.... And yet, they are wrong.