---
Homero: Cara mia, is it true?
Morticia: Oui, mon amour.
---
Homero: Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss.
Homero: [Morticia se despierta] Unhappy, darling?
Morticia: Oh, yes. Yes completely.
[Homero se sienta]
Morticia: Homero... Sun. Il me perce comme un poingard.
Homero: Oh, Tish. That's French.
Morticia: Oui.
Homero: Cara mia.