The Lady of Lyons [22]
what I have not the sublime virtue to grant--a virtue reserved only for the gardener's son! I cannot forego my hopes in the moment of their fulfilment! I adhere to the contract-- your father's ruin or your hand.
Pauline. Then all is over. Sir, I have decided.
[The clock strikes one.
Enter DAMAS and MELNOTTE.
Damas. Your servant, cousin Deschappelles. Let me introduce Colonel Morier.
Mme. Deschap. [curtsying very low]. What, the celebrated hero? This is, indeed, an honor! [MELNOTTE bows, and remains in the background.
Damas [to Pauline]. My little cousin, I congratulate you. What, no smile-- no blush? You are going to be divorced from poor Melnotte, and marry this rich gentleman. You ought to be excessively happy!
Pauline. Happy!
Damas. Why, how pale you are, child!--Poor Pauline! Hist--confide in me! Do they force you to this?
Pauline. No!
Damas. You act with your own free consent?
Pauline. My own consent--yes.
Damas. Then you are the most--I will not say what you are.
Pauline. You think ill of me--be it so--yet if you knew all--
Damas. There is some mystery--speak out, Pauline.
Pauline [suddenly]. Oh, perhaps you.can save me! you are our relation-- our friend. My father is on the verge of bankruptcy--this day he requires a large sum to meet demands that cannot be denied; that sum Beauseant will advance--this hand the condition of the barter. Save me if you have the means--save me! You will be repaid above!
Damas. aside. I recant--Women are not so bad after all! [Aloud.] Humph, child! I cannot help you--I am too poor.
Pauline. The last plank to which I clung is shivered.
Damas. Hold--you see my friend Morier: Melnotte is his most intimate friend--fought in the same fields--slept in the same tent. Have you any message to send to Melnotte? any word to soften this blow?
Pauline. He knows Melnotte--he will see him--he will bear to him my last farewell--[approaches MELNOTTE] He has a stern air-- he turns away from me--he despises me!--Sir one word I beseech you.
Mel. Her voice again! How the old time comes o'er me!
Damas [to Madame.] Don't interrupt them.--He is going to tell her what a rascal young Melnotte is; he knows him well, I promise you.
Mme. Deschap. So considerate in you, cousin Damas!
[DAMAS approaches DESCHAPPELLES; converses apart with hint in dumb show-- DESCHAPPELLES shows him a paper, which he inspects and takes.
Pauline. Thrice have I sought to speak; my courage fails me.-- Sir, is it true that you have known--nay, are The friend of--Melnotte.
Mel. Lady, yes!-- Myself And misery know the man!
Pauline. And you will see him, And you will bear to him--ay--word for word, All that this heart, which breaks in parting from him, Would send, ere still for ever?
Mel. He hath told me You have the right to choose from out the world A worthier bridegroom;--he forgoes all claim, Even to murmur at his doom. Speak on!
Pauline. Tell him, for years I never nursed a thought That was not his;--that on his wandering way, Daily and nightly, pour'd a mourner's prayers. Tell him ev'n now that I would rather share His lowliest lot,--walk by his side, an outcast-- Work for him, beg with him,--live upon the light Of one kind smile from him,--than wear the crown The Bourbon lost!
Mel. [aside.] Am I already mad? And does delirium utter such sweet words Into a dreamer's ear? [Aloud]. You love him thus, And yet desert him?
Pauline. Say, that, if his eye-- Could read this heart,--its struggles, its temptations,-- His love itself would pardon that desertion! Look on that poor old man,--he is my father; He stands upon the verge of an abyss!-- He calls his child to save him! Shall I shrink From him who gave me birth?--withhold my hand, And see a parent perish? Tell him this, And say--that we shall meet again in Heaven!
Mel. Lady--I--I--what is this riddle?--what The nature of this sacrifice?
Pauline [pointing to DAMAS]. Go, ask him!
Beau. [from the table]. The papers are prepared--we only need Your hand and seal.
Pauline. Then all is over. Sir, I have decided.
[The clock strikes one.
Enter DAMAS and MELNOTTE.
Damas. Your servant, cousin Deschappelles. Let me introduce Colonel Morier.
Mme. Deschap. [curtsying very low]. What, the celebrated hero? This is, indeed, an honor! [MELNOTTE bows, and remains in the background.
Damas [to Pauline]. My little cousin, I congratulate you. What, no smile-- no blush? You are going to be divorced from poor Melnotte, and marry this rich gentleman. You ought to be excessively happy!
Pauline. Happy!
Damas. Why, how pale you are, child!--Poor Pauline! Hist--confide in me! Do they force you to this?
Pauline. No!
Damas. You act with your own free consent?
Pauline. My own consent--yes.
Damas. Then you are the most--I will not say what you are.
Pauline. You think ill of me--be it so--yet if you knew all--
Damas. There is some mystery--speak out, Pauline.
Pauline [suddenly]. Oh, perhaps you.can save me! you are our relation-- our friend. My father is on the verge of bankruptcy--this day he requires a large sum to meet demands that cannot be denied; that sum Beauseant will advance--this hand the condition of the barter. Save me if you have the means--save me! You will be repaid above!
Damas. aside. I recant--Women are not so bad after all! [Aloud.] Humph, child! I cannot help you--I am too poor.
Pauline. The last plank to which I clung is shivered.
Damas. Hold--you see my friend Morier: Melnotte is his most intimate friend--fought in the same fields--slept in the same tent. Have you any message to send to Melnotte? any word to soften this blow?
Pauline. He knows Melnotte--he will see him--he will bear to him my last farewell--[approaches MELNOTTE] He has a stern air-- he turns away from me--he despises me!--Sir one word I beseech you.
Mel. Her voice again! How the old time comes o'er me!
Damas [to Madame.] Don't interrupt them.--He is going to tell her what a rascal young Melnotte is; he knows him well, I promise you.
Mme. Deschap. So considerate in you, cousin Damas!
[DAMAS approaches DESCHAPPELLES; converses apart with hint in dumb show-- DESCHAPPELLES shows him a paper, which he inspects and takes.
Pauline. Thrice have I sought to speak; my courage fails me.-- Sir, is it true that you have known--nay, are The friend of--Melnotte.
Mel. Lady, yes!-- Myself And misery know the man!
Pauline. And you will see him, And you will bear to him--ay--word for word, All that this heart, which breaks in parting from him, Would send, ere still for ever?
Mel. He hath told me You have the right to choose from out the world A worthier bridegroom;--he forgoes all claim, Even to murmur at his doom. Speak on!
Pauline. Tell him, for years I never nursed a thought That was not his;--that on his wandering way, Daily and nightly, pour'd a mourner's prayers. Tell him ev'n now that I would rather share His lowliest lot,--walk by his side, an outcast-- Work for him, beg with him,--live upon the light Of one kind smile from him,--than wear the crown The Bourbon lost!
Mel. [aside.] Am I already mad? And does delirium utter such sweet words Into a dreamer's ear? [Aloud]. You love him thus, And yet desert him?
Pauline. Say, that, if his eye-- Could read this heart,--its struggles, its temptations,-- His love itself would pardon that desertion! Look on that poor old man,--he is my father; He stands upon the verge of an abyss!-- He calls his child to save him! Shall I shrink From him who gave me birth?--withhold my hand, And see a parent perish? Tell him this, And say--that we shall meet again in Heaven!
Mel. Lady--I--I--what is this riddle?--what The nature of this sacrifice?
Pauline [pointing to DAMAS]. Go, ask him!
Beau. [from the table]. The papers are prepared--we only need Your hand and seal.