Cle. (taking the diamond off his father's finger). You must see it near.
Mar. It is a beautiful one; it possesses great lustre.
Cle. (steps before Marianne, who wants to restore it). No, Madam, it is in hands too beautiful; it is a present my father gives you.
Har. I?
Cle. Is it not true, father, that you wish her to keep it for your sake?
Har. (aside, to his son). What?
Cle. (to Marianne). A strange question indeed! He is making me signs that I am to force you to accept it.
Mar. I would not …
Cle. (to Marianne). I beg of you…. He would not take it back.
Har. (aside). I am bursting with rage!