"How he can deceive you! His schemes stop only at the throne. He is marrying you that in the next revolution he may figure as the Russian 'Prince Égalité.' Nay, Égalité!—as another Pugatseff! Why, do you not know that he is one of the conspirators whose aim is to oust the Czar from the throne?"
"But it was my father who brought him here."
"Because he has a honeyed tongue with which he can deceive the Czar—and lull the daughter to sleep."
"Oh, mother, you hate him sorely!"
"And with reason! Does not this marriage threaten to ruin my whole life? Will it not bring the secret of your birth to light—that birth the bane of my early life?"
"Mother! Do you curse the day of my birth?"
"Not now only, but twice daily—when I wake and when I lie down. You were as a death-sentence to me, the hour of which was unfixed. I have thought with shuddering of you. You have been my accomplice, a living witness to my wrecked honor; and now my fate is to be accomplished through you. You announce to the whole world that you exist—look! here am I!"
"No, mother; I will hide myself. No one shall see me. No one shall know of me."
Korynthia here pretended that pity and maternal love had gained the mastery. In sorrowing tones, she exclaimed:
"But, my poor child, do you not know that you are condemning yourself to a living grave—that you are choosing a life worse than hell? You will be the wife of an adventurer, who is sunk so low in sin, so fettered by vicious associates, that, even if he desired it, he is powerless to avoid the consequences. Do you want to follow him to Siberia?"