PEHR. Not Lisa--What does this mean? Treachery! Who are you then?

BRIDE. Your consort.

PEHR. My consort!

BRIDE. [Indifferently.] The Administration had three candidates for
you: The Vizier's choice fell upon me because my father threatened
you with a tariff treaty.

PEHR. The administration's candidate--tariff treaties--what does
that signify?

BRIDE. Politics require that princes shall sacrifice their personal
considerations for the good of the people.

PEHR. Politics require--But does the good of the people require any
princes?

BRIDE. I don't know--but it's done once for all, and now you are my
husband. Have the goodness to be happy, or you will be miserable.

PEHR. Are you happy?

BRIDE. I am nothing.

PEHR. Do you love me?

BRIDE. No, certainly not! And you me?