Lucile

Well, what of ours: in truth,
I should have no more happiness than yours.
Nothing has troubled it until now,
Not a cloud, no worries.
To see each other and to love each other, to be united to one another,
That is our romance.

Everything has gone well for us;
It is up to us to finish it.

Julie, a festive air.
Raise this curl, and this flower too;
Let them say that Love has crowned her head.

Like this?

Very well. Here, something more
Still. Marvelous.

                                  Have you seen my father?

I have thought only of you. Forgive me.

It is with him that we must begin.

                                               He is kind;
He will excuse me, I hope.

But I, I am lecturing you!
I am scolding you! One would say that I am your wife.

Ah! You have every right to do so:
Love, before marriage original: "himen", has taken them upon my soul.

I will abuse them.

You, Lucile!

                          I believe so.