Pauline. Good woman, I really—why prince, what is this?—does the old lady know you? Oh, I guess, you have done her some service. Another proof of your kind heart? is it not?
Mel. Of my kind heart, ay!
Pauline. So you know the prince?
Widow. Know him, madam?—Ah, I begin to fear it is you who know him not!
Pauline. Do you think she is mad? Can we stay here, my lord? I think there’s something very wild about her.
Mel. Madam, I—no, I cannot tell her; my knees knock together: what a coward is a man who has lost his honor! Speak to her—speak to her [to his mother]—tell her that—O Heaven, that I were dead!
Pauline. How confused he looks!—this strange place?—this woman—what can it mean?—I half suspect—Who are you, madam!—who are you! can’t you speak? are you struck dumb?
Widow. Claude, you have not deceived her?—Ah, shame upon you! I thought that, before you went to the altar, she was to have known all.
Pauline. All! what!—My blood freezes in my veins!
Widow. Poor lady!—dare I tell her, Claude? [MELNOTTE makes a sign of assent.] Know you not then, madam, that this young man is of poor though honest parents? Know you not that you are wedded to my son, Claude Melnotte?