Listen, my queen, you who know life pretty well; you would me great harm and give me much pain,--harm, because you would prevent my marriage in a town where people cling to morality; pain, because if you are in trouble (which I deny, you sly puss!) I haven't a penny to get you out of it.
I'm as poor as a church mouse; you know that, my dear.

Ah! if I marry Mademoiselle Cormon, if I am once more rich, of course I would prefer you to Cesarine.

You've always seemed to me as fine as the gold they gild on lead; you were made to be the love of a great seigneur.

I think you so clever that the trick you are trying to play off on me doesn't surprise me one bit; I expected it.

You are flinging the scabbard after the sword, and that's daring for a girl.