One Never Thinks of Everything,

MARGARITA.

You are right.

LISE.

My nanny.

MARGARITA.

What?

LISE.

Will you permit me to speak to this poor man?

MARGARITA.

Yes, one must not despise them. (She rummages in her purse.)

LISE.

Why do you wear this chain around your arm?

DORVAL.

I was a captive in Morocco... Ah! Lise!

LISE.

Ah! Dorval.

MARGARITA.

Here, Monsieur the Captive, here are four sols small copper coins that I give you, a piece of eighteen deniers small coins, a little sol, and five liards coins worth a quarter of a sol, that makes exactly four sols, because those little sols there were worth five liards.

DORVAL.

ARIETTA.

Divine object; woman fertile

In beauties;

O source, deep source

Of brilliance!

May Oriental wealth

Upon your clothes

Lavish all that it displays

Of rubies.

LISE.

Ah! my nanny, what a beautiful wish!

MARGARITA.

Yes, it is beautiful.