The fault is nowise mine....
Poet.
True.... I am insane
And a madman is insane, marquise, although he reason.
Marquise.
Oh, reason, poet. I would convince you
That even a marquise may be sincere.
Poet.
And I, my lady, I would fain believe it.
Marquise.
Believe it then, I beg of you.
Poet.