François. Is that so? What will the others have to say to it?
Albin. What others?
François. She is loved all around, you know.
Duke. And he wants to go away with her ... what do I know about it?... Somebody told me.
Host. Indeed? Did they tell you? (Glances at the Duke. )
Duke (having first looked at Host). It is too silly. Léocadie was made to be the greatest, the most splendid whore in the world.
François. Who doesn't know that?
Duke. Could anything be more unreasonable than to take people away from their true calling? (As François laughs.) I am not joking. Whores are born, not made—just as conquerors and poets are.
François. You are paradoxical.
Duke. I am sorry for her, and for Henri. He should stay here—no, not here—I should like to bring him to the Comédie—though even there—I always feel as though nobody understood him as well as I do. Of course, that may be an illusion, since I have the same feeling in regard to most artists. But I must say if I were not the Duc de Cadignan, I should really like to be a comedian like him—like him, I say ...