Colu. Why, Pierrot, I can't act.
Pier. Can't act! Can't act! La, listen to the woman!
What's that to do with the price of furs?—You're blonde,
Are you not?—You have no education, have you?—
Can't act! You under-rate yourself, my dear!
Colu. Yes, I suppose I do.
Pier. As for the rest,
I'll teach you how to cry, and how to die,
And other little tricks; and the house will love you.
You'll be a star by five o'clock.... That is,
If you will let me pay for your apartment.
Colu. Let you?—well, that's a good one! Ha! Ha! Ha!
But why?
Pier. But why?—well, as to that, my dear,
I cannot say. It's just a matter of form.
Colu. Pierrot, I'm getting tired of caviar
And peacocks' livers. Isn't there something else
That people eat?—some humble vegetable,
That grows in the ground?
Pier. Well, there are mushrooms.
Colu. Mushrooms!
That's so! I had forgotten ... mushrooms ... mushrooms....
I cannot live with.... How do you like this gown?
Pier. Not much. I'm tired of gowns that have the waist-line
About the waist, and the hem around the bottom,—
And women with their breasts in front of them!—
Zut and ehé! Where does one go from here!