Oh, how thou sayest that!… Thy voice seems to have blown across the sea in spring!… I have never heard it until now;… one would say it had rained on my heart!… Thou sayest that so frankly!… Like an angel questioned!… I cannot believe it, Mélisande!… Why shouldst thou love me?—Nay, why dost thou love me?—Is what thou sayest true?—Thou dost not mock me?—Thou dost not lie a little, to make me smile?…
MÉLISANDE.
No; I never lie; I lie but to thy brother….
PÉLLÉAS.
Oh, how thou sayest that!… Thy voice! thy voice!… It is cooler and more frank than the water is!… It is like pure water on my lips!… It is like pure water on my hands…. Give me, give me thy hands!… Oh, how small thy hands are!… I did not know thou wert so beautiful!… I have never seen anything so beautiful before thee…. I was fall of unrest; I sought throughout the house…. I sought throughout the country…. And I found not beauty…. And now I have found thee!… I have found thee!.,. I do not think there could be on the earth a fairer woman!… Where art thou?—I no longer hear thee breathe….
MÉLISANDE.
Because I look on thee….
PÉLLÉAS.
Why dost thou look so gravely on me?—We are already in the shadow.—It is too dark under this tree. Come into the light. We cannot see how happy we are. Come, come; so little time remains to us….