Marguerite: Oh, it's you. What's happened? You look ill too.
Armand: No, it's seeing you like this, suffering.
Marguerite: It's nothing. It lasts only a minute.
Armand: You're killing yourself.
Marguerite: If I am, you're the only one who objects. Now, why don't you go back and dance with one of those pretty girls. [She laughs] Come, I'll go with you. [He embraces and kisses her hand] What a child you are.
Armand: Your hand's so hot.
Marguerite: Is that why you put tears on it and cool it?
Armand: I know I don't mean anything to you. I don't count. But someone ought to look after you. And I could if you'd let me.
Marguerite: Too much wine has made you sentimental.
Armand: It wasn't wine that made me come here every day for months to find out how you were.
Marguerite: No, it couldn't have been wine. So you'd really like to take care of me?
Armand: Yes.
Marguerite: All day, every day?
Armand: All day, every day. Why not? [She laughs]
Marguerite: Why should you care for a woman like me? I'm always nervous or sick, or sad or too gay.
Armand: I do care for you.
Marguerite: You know what you should do. You should get married. Ah. Come, come. You're young and sensitive. The sort of company you're in tonight doesn't suit you at all.
Armand: Nor you.
Marguerite: No. These are the only friends I have and I'm no better than they are. However, I've given you some very good advice. Now let's go back. [She notices his hesitation and laughs] Oh, what on earth am I going to do with you?
Armand: No one has ever loved you as I love you.
Marguerite: That may be true, but what can I do about it? You should go away and not see me anymore. But don't go in anger. Well, why don't you laugh at yourself a little as I laugh at myself, and come and talk to me once in a while in a friendly way?
Armand: That's too much and not enough. Don't you believe in love, Marguerite?
Marguerite: I don't think I know what it is.
Armand: Oh, thank you.
Marguerite: For what?
Armand: For never having been in love. [She laughs at him.]
Armand: No, it's seeing you like this, suffering.
Marguerite: It's nothing. It lasts only a minute.
Armand: You're killing yourself.
Marguerite: If I am, you're the only one who objects. Now, why don't you go back and dance with one of those pretty girls. [She laughs] Come, I'll go with you. [He embraces and kisses her hand] What a child you are.
Armand: Your hand's so hot.
Marguerite: Is that why you put tears on it and cool it?
Armand: I know I don't mean anything to you. I don't count. But someone ought to look after you. And I could if you'd let me.
Marguerite: Too much wine has made you sentimental.
Armand: It wasn't wine that made me come here every day for months to find out how you were.
Marguerite: No, it couldn't have been wine. So you'd really like to take care of me?
Armand: Yes.
Marguerite: All day, every day?
Armand: All day, every day. Why not? [She laughs]
Marguerite: Why should you care for a woman like me? I'm always nervous or sick, or sad or too gay.
Armand: I do care for you.
Marguerite: You know what you should do. You should get married. Ah. Come, come. You're young and sensitive. The sort of company you're in tonight doesn't suit you at all.
Armand: Nor you.
Marguerite: No. These are the only friends I have and I'm no better than they are. However, I've given you some very good advice. Now let's go back. [She notices his hesitation and laughs] Oh, what on earth am I going to do with you?
Armand: No one has ever loved you as I love you.
Marguerite: That may be true, but what can I do about it? You should go away and not see me anymore. But don't go in anger. Well, why don't you laugh at yourself a little as I laugh at myself, and come and talk to me once in a while in a friendly way?
Armand: That's too much and not enough. Don't you believe in love, Marguerite?
Marguerite: I don't think I know what it is.
Armand: Oh, thank you.
Marguerite: For what?
Armand: For never having been in love. [She laughs at him.]
Marguerite : Oh, it's you. What's happened? You look ill too.
Armand : No, it's seeing you like this, suffering.
Marguerite : It's nothing. It lasts only a minute.
Armand : You're killing yourself.
Marguerite : If I am, you're the only one who objects. Now, why don't you go back and dance with one of those pretty girls. [She laughs] Come, I'll go with you. [He embraces and kisses her hand] What a child you are.
Armand : Your hand's so hot.
Marguerite : Is that why you put tears on it and cool it?
Armand : I know I don't mean anything to you. I don't count. But someone ought to look after you. And I could if you'd let me.
Marguerite : Too much wine has made you sentimental.
Armand : It wasn't wine that made me come here every day for months to find out how you were.
Marguerite : No, it couldn't have been wine. So you'd really like to take care of me?
Armand : Yes.
Marguerite : All day, every day?
Armand : All day, every day. Why not? [She laughs]
Marguerite : Why should you care for a woman like me? I'm always nervous or sick, or sad or too gay.
Armand : I do care for you.
Marguerite : You know what you should do. You should get married. Ah. Come, come. You're young and sensitive. The sort of company you're in tonight doesn't suit you at all.
Armand : Nor you.
Marguerite : No. These are the only friends I have and I'm no better than they are. However, I've given you some very good advice. Now let's go back. [She notices his hesitation and laughs] Oh, what on earth am I going to do with you?
Armand : No one has ever loved you as I love you.
Marguerite : That may be true, but what can I do about it? You should go away and not see me anymore. But don't go in anger. Well, why don't you laugh at yourself a little as I laugh at myself, and come and talk to me once in a while in a friendly way?
Armand : That's too much and not enough. Don't you believe in love, Marguerite?
Marguerite : I don't think I know what it is.
Armand : Oh, thank you.
Marguerite : For what?
Armand : For never having been in love. [She laughs at him.]
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