Leave me, my friend; it is your manly right.

We women should ever please you, entertain you, be gay in your presence and have no whims save those that amuse you.

Come, what shall I do for you, friend?
Shall I sing, shall I dance, though weariness deprives me of the use of voice and limbs ?--Ah! gentlemen, be we on our deathbeds, we yet must smile to please you; you call that, methinks, your right.

Poor women! I pity them.

Tell me, you who abandon them when they grow old, is it because they have neither hearts nor souls?
Wilfrid, I am a hundred years old; leave me! leave me! go to Minna!" "Oh, my eternal love!" "Do you know the meaning of eternity?
Be silent, Wilfrid.