You must not take it ill of him. He has always been so. He is a little strange. And just now he is sad; he thinks of his friend Marcellus, who is at the point of death, and whom he cannot go to see…. He will change, he will change, you will see; he is young….
MÉLISANDE.
But it is not that … it is not that….
GOLAUD.
What is it, then?—Can you not get used to the life one leads here? Is it too gloomy here?—It is true the castle is very old and very sombre…. It is very cold, and very deep. And all those who dwell in it, are already old. And the country may seem gloomy too, with all its forests, all its old forests without light. But that may all be enlivened if we will. And then, joy, joy, one does not have it every day; we must take things as they come. But tell me something; no matter what; I will do everything you could wish….
MÉLISANDE.
Yes, yes; it is true…. You never see the sky here. I saw it for the first time this morning….
GOLAUD.
It is that, then, that makes you weep, my poor Mélisande?—It is only that, then?—You weep, not to see the sky?—Come, come, you are no longer at the age when one may weep for such things…. And then, is not the summer yonder? You will see the sky every day.—And then, next year…. Come, give me your hand; give me both your little hands. [He takes her hands.] Oh! oh! these little hands that I could crush like flowers….—Hold! where is the ring I gave you?