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 s.n.a.t.c.h 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 I am 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 n.o.ble 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. A man who has no excuse for crime is indeed defenceless!
Damas. There"s something fine in the rascal, after all!
M. Deschap. Where is the impostor?--Are you thus shameless, traitor? Can you brave the presence of that girl"s father?
Mel. Strike me, if it please you--you are her father.
Pauline. Sir--sir, for my sake; whatever his guilt, he has acted n.o.bly in atonement.
Mme. Deschap. n.o.bly! Are you mad, girl? I have no patience with you-- to disgrace all your family thus! n.o.bly! Oh you abominable, hardened, pitiful, mean, ugly villain!
Damas. Ugly! Why he was beautiful yesterday!
Pauline. Madame, this is his roof, and he is my husband. Respect your daughter, or let blame fall alone on her.
Mme. Deschap. You--you--Oh, I"m choking.
M. Deschap. Sir, it were idle to waste reproach upon a conscience like yours--you renounce all pretensions to the person of this lady?
Mel. I do. [Gives a paper.] Here is my consent to a divorce--my full confession of the fraud which annuls the marriage. Your daughter has been foully wronged--I grant it, sir; but her own lips will tell you that, from the hour in which she crossed this threshold, I returned to my own station, and respected hers. Pure and inviolate, as when yestermorn you laid your hand upon her head, and blessed her, I yield her back to you. For myself--I deliver you for ever from my presence.
An outcast and a criminal, I seek some distant land, where I may mourn my sin, and pray for your daughter"s peace. Farewell--farewell to you all, for ever!
Willow. Claude, Claude, you will not leave your poor old mother? She does not disown you in your sorrow no, not even in your guilt. No divorce can separate a mother from her son.
Pauline. This poor widow teaches me my duty. No, mother,--no, for you are now my mother also!--nor should any law, human or divine, separate the wife from her husband"s sorrows. Claude--Claude--all is forgotten forgiven--I am thine for ever!
Mme. Deschap. What do I hear?--Come away, or never see my face again.