[_Entering with flowers_.] Ah, Nanette! Quick! Water and a vase. See! NANETTE. What--flowers? [_Brings vase_. DIANE. Yes, they bloom even in this reign of terror. [_Putting flowers in vase_.] But you see these fragile beauties are sinless, and therefore know no fear.--Is my father in his room? NANETTE. No. He went away an hour ago. DIANE. Gone an hour, and not returned? That makes me anxious!--Is Citizen Kauvar at home? NANETTE. Not yet! He's been away all night. DIANE. Good heavens!--Nanette--can anything have happened? NANETTE. Yes, what happens every day. Innocence is slaughtered! DIANE. But he--Citizen Kauvar--? NANETTE. Has doubtless fought all night to stop the useless flow of noble blood. DIANE. Yes, he is brave, merciful. NANETTE. Ah! He was one of the fiercest champions of Freedom when the people first arose; but now I think he'd give his life to still the tempest he did so much to rouse. DIANE. He will return sad and worn; we must do our best to cheer him when he comes. NANETTE. One look--one smile of yours will banish every thought of sorrow from his tired brain. DIANE. Hush, Nanette;--you must not talk like that. A VOICE. [_Outside_.] Nanette!--Diane! NANETTE. [_Startled_.] What's that? DIANE. [_Frightened_.] My father! DUKE. [_Entering wildly_.] My child! Diane!--Where is she? DIANE. [_Rushing to him_.] Here!--Safe in your dear arms! DUKE. [_Embracing her_.] Thank God! [_Turning to NANETTE_.] My good Nanette, leave us alone awhile. NANETTE. [_Going_.] All right, Citizen. DUKE. And warn us when anyone is coming. NANETTE. [_At the door_.] Don't fear! I'll stand good guard. [_Exit_. DIANE. Father, why are you so moved? DUKE. But now, the mob seized some poor young girl they found without protection in the street. I heard of this and fearing for your life, I hurried here in awful agony of mind. Ah! Diane, this dread of peril to you is worse than the worst of deaths to me. DIANE. Take heart, dear father! Does not Paul Kauvar, strong and true, stand between us and danger! DUKE. Yes; but 'tis hard that I, a peer of France, should owe my daughter's life to a peasant's son--a workman! DIANE. A, workman with a brush so potent that the noblest born do honour to his art. What would have been our fate but for his devotion? DUKE. He's a plebeian--a Republican! The sense of my obligation to him--the enemy of my race--is almost unendurable. Ah, but for you I should long since have braved the scaffold and buried humiliation in the grave. NANETTE. [_Hurrying in_.] Take care!--A committee from the Section is on its way upstairs. DIANE. [_In fear_.] A committee coming here? How strange! NANETTE. No, not strange! Treachery is at every door. They are coming. Quick!--To your work!