Pauline. Sir! leave this house--it is humble: but a husband's roof, however lowly, is, in the eyes of God and man, the temple of a wife's honor! Know that I would rather starve--yes--with him who has betrayed me, than accept your lawful hand, even were you the prince whose name he bore.--Go.
Beau. What! is not your pride humbled yet?
Pauline. Sir, what was pride in prosperity in affliction becomes virtue.
Beau. Look round: these rugged floors--these homely walls--this wretched struggle of poverty for comfort--think of this! and contrast with such a picture the refinement, the luxury, the pomp, that the wealthiest gentleman of Lyons offers to the loveliest lady.
Ah, hear me!
Pauline. Oh! my father!--why did I leave you?--why am I thus friendless?
Sir, you see before you a betrayed, injured, miserable woman!--respect her anguish [MELNOTTE opens the door silently, and pauses at the threshold.
Beau. No! let me rather thus console it; let me snatch from those lips one breath of that fragrance which never should be wasted on the low churl thy husband.
Pauline. Help! Claude!--Claude!--Have I no protector?'
Beau. Be silent! [showing a pistol.] See, I do not come unprepared even for violence. I will brave all things--thy husband and all his race--for thy sake. Thus, then, I clasp thee!
Mel. [dashing him to the other end of the stage]. Pauline--look up, Pauline! thou art safe.
Beau. [levelling his pistol]. Dare you thus insult a man of my birth, ruffian?
Pauline. Oh, spare him--spare my husband!--Beauseant--Claude--no--no [faints].
Mel. Miserable trickster! shame upon you! brave devices to terrify a woman! Coward!--you tremble--you have outraged the laws--you know that your weapon is harmless--you have the courage of the mountebank, not the bravo!--Pauline, there is no danger.
Beau. I wish thou wert a gentleman--as it is, thou art beneath me.--Good day, and a happy honeymoon.--[Aside.] I will not die till Iam avenged. [Exit.
Mel. I hold her in these arms--the last embrace Never, ah never more, shall this dear head Be pillow'd on the heart that should have shelter'd And has betray'd!--Soft--soft! one kiss--poor wretch!
No scorn on that pale lip forbids me now!
One kiss--so ends all record of my crime!
It is the seal upon the tomb of hope, By which, like some lost, sorrowing angel, sits Sad memory evermore; she breathes--she moves She wakes to scorn, to hate, but not to shudder Beneath the touch of my abhorred love.
Places her on a seat. There--we are strangers now!
Pauline. All gone--all calm Is every thing a dream? thou art safe, unhurt I do not love thee;--but--but I am woman, And--and--no blood is spilt?
Mel. No, lady, no; My guilt hath not deserved so rich a blessing As even danger in thy cause.
Enter WIDOW.
Widow. My son, I have been everywhere in search of you; why did you send for me?
Mel. I did not send for you.
Widow. No! but I must tell you your express has returned.
Mel. So soon! impossible!
Widow. Yes, he met the lady's father and mother on the road;they were going into the country on a visit. Your messenger says that Monsieur Deschappelles turned almost white with anger when he read your letter. They will be here almost immediately.
Oh, Claude, Claude! what will they do to you? How I tremble!
Ah, madam! do not let them injure him--if you knew how he doated on you.
Pauline. Injure him! no, ma'am, be not afraid;--my father! how shall I meet him? how go back to Lyons? the scoff of the whole city!
Cruel, cruel, Claude [in great agitation]. Sir, you have acted most treacherously.
Mel. I know it, madam.
Pauline [aside.] If he would but ask me to forgive him!--I never can forgive you, sir.
Mel. I never dared to hope it.
Pauline. But you are my husband now, and I have sworn to--to love you, sir.
Mel. That was under a false belief, madam; Heaven and the laws will release you from your vow.
Pauline. He will drive me mad! if he were but less proud--if he would but ask me to remain--hark, hark--I hear the wheels of the carriage--Sir--Claude, they are coming; have you no word to say ere it is loo late? Quick speak.
Mel. I can only congratulate you on your release. Behold your parents Enter MONSIEUR and MADAME DESCHAPPELLES and COLONEL DAMAS.
M. Deschap. My child! my child!
Mme. Deschap. Oh, my poor Pauline!--what a villanous hovel this is!
Old woman, get me a chair--I shall faint I certainly shall.
What will the world say? Child, you have been a fool.
A mother's heart is easily broken.
Damas. Ha, ha! most noble Prince--I am sorry to see a man of your quality in such a condition; I am afraid your highness will go to the House of Correction.
Mel. Taunt on, sir; I spared you when you were unarmed--I am unarmed now.
