"But I shall be disgraced in the eyes of all."
"You love me better than any one—don't you?"
"Can you ask me such a question?"
"Then of what consequence is it? So far from considering you as disgraced in my eyes, I shall consider you as the victim of your own kind heart."
"But the world will accuse, condemn, calumniate your choice."
"The world! Are not you the world to me—I to you? So let it say as it may!"
"Well, quitting prison at length, my life will be precarious—miserable. Repulsed on all sides, I may, perhaps, find no employment, and then it is appalling to think! But if this corruption which besets me should seize on me in spite of myself, what a future for you!"
"You will never grow corrupted. No; for now you know that I love you, this thought will give you the power of resisting bad examples. You will reflect that if all repulse you when you quit your prison, your wife will receive you with love and gratitude, assured, as she will be, that you will still be an honest man. This language astonishes you, does it not? It astonishes even myself. I do not know whence I derive all I say to you; from the bottom of my soul, assuredly—and that must convince you! That is, if you do not reject an offer made you most unreservedly, if you do not desire to reject the love of a poor girl who has only—"
Germain interrupted Rigolette with impassioned voice:
"Yes, indeed—I do accept—I do accept! Yes, I feel it. I am assured it is sometimes cowardly to refuse certain sacrifices; it is to avow oneself unworthy of them. I accept them, noble, brave girl!"