Paul (astonished). What is it, dear? What do you intend to do?
Antoinette (with frantic passion). To our horses, dearest! To our horses!
Paul (incredulously). Out into the world, after all?
Antoinette (with a wild fervor). Out with you into the night ... the night of Saint Sylvester!
Paul (sadly). Stay here, Toinette! Why begin the farce anew! Let it end upon this soil, that nurtured our childhood!
Antoinette (imploring). Come, dearest, to our horses! Let us ride to my home.
Paul. To your home?
Antoinette. To Rukkoschin, the house of my fathers.
Paul. Do you wish to go there?
Antoinette. I wish to see it once more!