Mon. Yes, sir; and melancholy stories make people dry, so let me recommend another cup of wine.
Flor. Madam, I can’t refuse the challenge—(aside) the old lady certainly designs to send me under the table. But pray, madam, have you never discovered the cause of that distress, from which you first relieved this suffering woman?
Mon. Never. On the subject of her early adventures she remains inflexibly silent. I have often tried to win the secret from her, but though she is mild and rational enough upon all other themes, yet, let but a hint remind her of her former wretchedness, her wits directly start into disorder, and for whole hours, nay, sometimes days together, she remains a lunatic. I do not even know her name, but call her Silence, because her voice is heard so very rarely. I think her dejection has increased since we quitted Languedoc, for about two months since, a kinsman of mine died, and bequeathed me this cottage with some land here in Alsace; ’tis a lone house, and the thick woods about I fear remind my poor Silence too much of her former way of life, sometimes she wanders in them half the night.
Flo. Are you not fearful of her safety? these woods are full of danger; within this half hour, I myself have encountered three ruffians lurking for their prey.
Mon. Ruffians! young gentleman. Blessed Mary save us!—’tis true, I am a stranger in these parts, but never did I hear of such neighbours. Well, well, I fear not for my child, she has no wealth to tempt a plunderer. Poverty is the mother of ills, but her offspring generally respect each other. Come, sir, finish the flask; and now let me prepare your chamber for the night. (rises.)
Flor. Kind hostess! I am bounden to you ever. (rises and fills his glass) Here’s woman! beauteous, generous woman! admired when we are happy, but in our adversity adored! (drinks.)
Mon. (curtseying) Sweet sir, down to the very ground I return your gallantry.
Flor. Hist!—don’t I hear footsteps in the wood?
Mon. (listening) Ah, yes, perhaps my child returns to us.
The casement is thrust open, and Bertrand with the two bravoes look into the cottage.