It were a sharper grief to think her worthless
Than to be what I am! To-day,-to-day!

They said "to-day!" This day, so wildly welcomed—
This day, my soul had singled out of time

And mark'd for bliss! This day! oh, could I see her,
See her once more, unknown; but hear her voice.
So that one echo of its music might

Make ruin less appalling in its silence.

DAMAS.

Easily done! Come with me to her house;

Your dress-your cloak-moustache-the bronzed hues
Of time and toil-the name you bear-belief
In your absence, all will ward away suspicion.
Keep in the shade. Ay, I would have you come.
There may be hope!

They may have forced

Out of mistaken love.

Pauline is yet so young,

her to these second bridals

MELNOTTE.

No, bid me hope not!

Bid me not hope! I could not bear again

To fall from such a heaven! One gleam of sunshine,
And the ice breaks and I am lost! Oh, Damas,
There's no such thing as courage in a man;
The veriest slave that ever crawl'd from danger
Might spurn me now. When first I lost her, Damas,
I bore it, did I not? I still had hope,

And now I-I- (bursts into an agony of grief).

DAMAS.

What, comrade! all the women

That ever smiled destruction on brave hearts

Were not worth tears like these!

MELNOTTE.

"Tis past-forget it.

I am prepared; life has no farther ills!

The cloud has broken in that stormy rain,
And on the waste I stand, alone with Heaven!

DAMAS.

His very face is changed; a breaking heart

Does its work soon!-Come, Melnotte, rouse thyself: One effort more. Again thou'lt see her.

MELNOTTE.

See her!

There is a passion in that simple sentence.
That shivers all the pride and power of reason
Into a chaos!

[Exeunt.

Forget her, yes! -For death remembers not.

SCENE II.

A room in the house of Monsieur Deschappelles; Pauline seated in great dejection.

PAULINE.

It is so, then. I must be false to Love,
Or sacrifice a father! Oh, my Claude,
My lover, and my husband! have I lived

To

pray that thou may'st find some fairer boon Than the deep faith of this devoted heart,— Nourish'd till now-now broken?

Enter Monsieur Deschappelles.

MONS. DESCHAP.

My dear child,

Thou hast saved

How shall I thank-how bless thee?

I will not say my fortune-I could bear

Reverse, and shrink not-but that prouder wealth
Which merchants value most my name, my credit-
The hard-won honours of a toilsome life-

These thou hast saved, my child!

No hope but this ?

PAULINE.

Is there no hope ?

MONS. DESCHAP.

None. If, without the sum

Which Beauseant offers for thy hand, this day
Sinks to the west-to-morrow brings our ruin !
And hundreds, mingled in that ruin, curse
The bankrupt merchant! and the insolent herd
We feasted and made merry cry in scorn

"How pride has fallen !-Lo, the bankrupt merchant !"-My daughter, thou hast saved us!

E

PAULINE.

And am lost!

MONS. DESCHAP.

Come, let me hope that Beauseant's love

PAULINE.

His love!

Talk not of love-Love has no thought of self!
Love buys not with the ruthless usurer's gold
The loathsome prostitution of a hand

Without a heart! Love sacrifices all things.
To bless the thing it loves! He knows not love.
Father, his love is hate-his hope revenge!
My tears, my anguish, my remorse for falsehood-
These are the joys he wrings from our despair!

MONS. DESCHAP.

If thou deem'st thus, reject him! Shame and ruin
Were better than thy misery ;-think no more on't.
My sand is well nigh run-what boots it when
The glass is broken? We'll annul the contract.
And if to-morrow in the prisoner's cell

These aged limbs are laid, why still, my child,
I'll think thou art spared; and wait the Liberal Hour
That lays the beggar by the side of kings!

PAULINE.

No-no-forgive me! You, my honour'd father,-
You, who so loved, so cherish'd me, whose lips
Never knew one harsh word! I'm not ungrateful;
I am but human!-hush! Now, call the bridegroom-
You see I am prepared-no tears-all calm;

But, father, talk no more of love!

MONS. DESCHAP.

My child,

'Tis but one struggle; he is young, rich, noble;
Thy state will rank first 'mid the dames of Lyons;
And when this heart can shelter thee no more,
Thy youth will not be guardianless.

PAULINE.

I have set

My foot upon the ploughshare-I will pass

The fiery ordeal. (Aside) Merciful Heaven, support me! And on the absent wanderer shed the light

Of happier stars-lost evermore to me!

Enter Madame Deschappelles, Beauseant, Glavis, and Notary

MADAME DESCHAP.

Why, Pauline, you are quite in deshabille-you ought to be more alive to the importance of this joyful occasion. We had once looked higher, it is true; but you see, after all, Monsieur Beauseant's father was a Marquis, and that's a great comfort! Pedigree and jointure!-you have them both in Monsieur BeauA young lady decorously brought up should only have two considerations in her choice of a husband:-first, is his birth honorable, secondly, will his death be advantageous? All other trifling details should be left to parental anxiety!

seant.

BEAUSEANT (approaching, and waving aside Madame). Ah, Pauline! let me hope that you are reconciled to an event which confers such rapture upon me.

This man must have some mercy-his heart cannot be marble. (Aloud) Oh, Sir, be just-be generous!-Seize a noble triumph-a great revenge!-Save the father, and spare the child!

BEAUSEANT (aside).

Joy-joy alike to my hatred and my passion! The haughty Pauline is at last my suppliant. (Aloud) You ask from me 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.

MADAME DESCHAP. (curtsying very low).

What, the celebrated hero? This is indeed an honour!

(Melnotte bows, and remains in the back-ground.)

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!

Happy!

PAULINE.

DAMAS.

Why, how pale you are, child!-Poor Pauline! Histconfide in me! Do they force you to this?

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).

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?