À moi, Comte, deux mots.
Il faut bonne mémoire après qu'on a menti.
Un tas d'hommes perdus de dettes et de crimes.
On a peine à haïr ce qu'on a bien aimé Et le feu mal éteint est bientôt rallumé.
Marquise, si mon visage A quelques traits un peu vieux, Souvenez-vous qu'à mon âge Vous ne vaudrez guère mieux.
… Va, cours, vole et nous venge.
Ta vertu met ta gloire au-dessus de ton crime.
© 2026 My French LLC
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