ARI. How so, sister?

BEL. Clitandre deceives you; it is with another that he is in love.

ARI. It is not with Henriette that he is in love? You are joking.

BEL. No; I am telling the perfect truth.

ARI. He told me so himself.

BEL. Doubtless.

ARI. You see me here, sister, commissioned by him to ask her of her
father.

BEL. Yes, I know.

ARI. And he besought me, in the name of his love, to hasten the time
of an alliance so desired by him.

BEL. Better and better. No more gallant subterfuge could have been
employed. But let me tell you that Henriette is an excuse, an
ingenious veil, a pretext, brother, to cover another flame, the
mystery of which I know; and most willingly will I enlighten you both.

ARI. Since you know so much, sister, pray tell us whom he loves.

BEL. You wish to know?