I do not know myself what it is…. I do not know just what it is…. If I could tell you, I would tell you…. It is something stronger than I….
GOLAUD.
Come; be reasonable, Mélisande.—What would you have me do?—You are no longer a child.—Is it I whom you would leave?
MÉLISANDE.
Oh! no, no; it is not that…. I would go away with you…. It is here that I can live no longer…. I feel that I shall not live a long while….
GOLAUD.
But there must be a reason nevertheless. You will be thought mad. It will be thought child's dreams.—Come, is it Pélléas, perhaps?—I think he does not often speak to you.
MÉLISANDE.
Yes, yes; he speaks to me sometimes. I think he does not like me; I have seen it in his eyes…. But he speaks to me when he meets me….