Julie
Oh! It is impossible! Can it be you who speak to me in this strain?
Mme. Mercadet
Julie—
Minard (rousing himself) There are some men to whom poverty adds energy; men capable of daily self-sacrifice, of hourly toil; men who think themselves sufficiently recompensed by a smile from a companion that they love—(checking himself). I, mademoiselle am not one of these. The thought of poverty dismays me. I—I could not endure the sight of your unhappiness.
Julie (bursting into tears and flinging herself into the arms of her
mother)
Oh! Mother! Mother! Mother!
Mme. Mercadet
My daughter—my poor Julie!
Minard (in a low voice to Mercadet)
Is this sufficient, sir?
Julie (without looking at Minard) I should have had courage for both of us. I should always have greeted you with a smile, I should have toiled without regret, and happiness would always have reigned in our home. You could never have meant this, Adolphe. You do not mean it.
Minard (in a low voice)
Let me go—let me leave the house, sir.
Mercadet
Come, then. (He retires to the back of the stage.)
Minard Good-bye—Julie. A love that would have flung you into poverty is a thoughtless love. I have preferred to show the love that sacrifices itself to your happiness—