With our daughters getting married and this trouble in the town,
You're upset. You want out. Go inside. Go lie down.
Tevye: Golde, I'm asking you a question. Do you love me?
Tevye: I know. But do you love me?
For twenty-five years, I've washed your clothes,
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house,
Given you children, milked the cow.
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?
Tevye: The first time I met you was on our wedding day. I was scared.
Tevye: But my father and my father said we'd learn to love each other.
So, now I'm asking, Golde...
Tevye: I know. But do you love me?
For twenty-five years, I've lived with him,
Fought with him, starved with him.
For twenty-five years, my bed is his.
If that's not love, what is?
Tevye: And I suppose I love you, too.
Together: It doesn't change a thing, but even so,
After twenty-five years, it's nice to know.