Does the dance tire you or the music displease?
Marquise.
It has never before displeased me, and yet—now—
Poet.
In a life
Happy as yours, joy is reborn,
Your moods are versatile, and charming, marquise....
Bad humor de luxe ... perhaps mere caprice....
Marquise.
Perhaps mere caprice ... perhaps; but I am prey
To something more profound, something warmer....
Poet.
Have I not told you
That in happy lives such as your high-placed life
There is nothing of ennui, nothing to lead astray,
Nothing to spur you on, nothing to unfold,
Nor any dim wraith stalking by your side?
Marquise.