CLEONTE: Covielle, can one see anything to equal this perfidy of
the ungrateful Lucile?
COVIELLE: And that, Monsieur, of the treacherous Nicole?
CLEONTE: After so many ardent homages, sighs, and vows that I have
made to her charms!
COVIELLE: After so many assiduous compliments, cares, and services
that I rendered her in the kitchen!
CLEONTE: So many tears I have shed at her knees!
COVIELLE: So many buckets of water I have drawn for her!
CLEONTE: So much passion I have shown her in loving her more than
myself!
COVIELLE: So much heat I have endured in turning the spit for her!
CLEONTE: She flies from me in disdain!
COVIELLE: She turns her back on me!
CLEONTE: It is perfidy worthy of the greatest punishments.
COVIELLE: It is treachery that merits a thousand slaps.
CLEONTE: Don't think, I beg you, of ever speaking in her favor to
me.
COVIELLE: I, sir? God forbid!
CLEONTE: Never come to excuse the action of this faithless woman.
COVIELLE: Have no fear.
CLEONTE; No, you see, all your speeches in her defense will serve
no purpose.
COVIELLE: Who even thinks of that?
CLEONTE: I want to conserve my resentment against her and end all
contact with her.
COVIELLE: I agree.
CLEONTE: This Count who goes to her house is perhaps pleasant in
her view; and her mind, I well see, allows itself to be dazzled by
social standing.
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