To these, all the former characters, less the Notary. The fiddles are heard without playing dolefully. Air: “O dear, what can the matter be?” in time to which the procession enters
Macaire. Well, friends, what cheer?
| Aline. No wedding, no wedding! Goriot. I told ’ee he can’t, and ’ee can’t. Dumont. Dear, dear me! Ernestine. They won’t let us marry. Charles. No wife, no father, no nothing! | } | Together. |
Curate. The facts have justified the worst anticipations of our absent friend, the Notary.
Macaire. I perceive I must reveal myself.
Dumont. God bless me, no!
Macaire. My friends, I had meant to preserve a strict incognito, for I was ashamed (I own it!) of this poor accoutrement; but when I see a face that I can render happy, say, my old Dumont, should I hesitate to work the change? Hear me, then, and you (to the others) prepare a smiling countenance. (Repeating.) “Preserve this letter secretly; its terms are known only to you and me: hence when the time comes, I shall repeat them, and my son will recognise his father.—Your Unknown Benefactor.”
Dumont. The words! the letter! Charles, alas! it is your father!
Charles. Good Lord! (General consternation.)