La Gloire. Eh?
Madelon. Why, where hast thou been, La Gloire? I have been seeking you all over the town. I feared you would get into danger. Finding the Governor's gate thrown open, and all the city in confusion, I e'en ventured in to look for you. Where hast thou been, La Gloire?
La Gloire. Been? no where—but I am going——
Madelon. Where, La Gloire?
La Gloire. A—a little way with my father. Hast heard the news, Madelon?
Madelon. Only in part. I hear the town has surrendered: and that six poor men are to be executed; and march from the town gates. But we shall then be in safety, La Gloire. Poor fellows! I would not see them go forth for the world!
La Gloire. Poor fellows!—a hem!—Ay, poor fellows! True, Madelon; I would not have thee shocked with the sight, I confess.
Madelon. But, pr'ythee, La Gloire, keep at home now with me. You are ever gadding. You soldiers are so wild and turbulent—How can you, La Gloire? You must be present, now, at this horrid ceremony?
La Gloire. Why, truly, I——I must be present;—but it will be for the last time, Madelon. I take little pleasure, in it, believe me.
Madelon. I would thou wouldst home with me! I have provided, out of thy bounty, a repast for us this evening. My father, who has ne'er stirred out these three weeks, is filled with joy for thy return;—he will sit at our table, La Gloire; he will give us his blessing, and wish us happy in marriage. Come, you shall not away, this evening, in sooth, now!