PAULINE. Thou wrong'st me, cruel Prince! At first, in truth, I might not have been won, Save through the weakness of a flatter'd pride; But now--oh! trust me--couldst thou fall from power And sink-- MEL. As low as that poor gardener's son Who dared to lift his eyes to thee? PAULINE. Even then, Methinks thou wouldst be only made more dear By the sweet thought that I could prove how deep Is woman's love! We are like the insects, caught By the poor glittering of a garish flame; But, oh, the wings once scorch'd, the brightest star Lures us no more; and by the fatal light We cling till death! MEL. Angel! [_Aside._] O conscience! conscience! It must not be--her love hath grown a torture Worse than her hate. I will at once to Beauseant, And--ha! he comes. Sweet love, one moment leave me. I have business with these gentlemen--I--I Will forthwith join you. PAULINE. I obey, sweet Prince. [_Exit separately._ ACT III, SCENE II CHARACTERS: Pauline, Claude, and the Widow Melnotte, the mother of Claude. SCENE: Melnotte's cottage, widow bustling about, a table spread for supper. WIDOW. So, I think that looks very neat. He sent me a line, so blotted that I can scarcely read it, to say he would be here almost immediately. She must have loved him well indeed to have forgotten his birth; for though he was introduced to her in disguise, he is too honorable not to have revealed to her the artifice; which her love only could forgive. Well, I do not wonder at it; for though my son is not a prince, he ought to be one, and that's almost as good. [_Knock at door._] Ah! here they are. _Enter_ MELNOTTE _and_ PAULINE WIDOW. Oh, my boy--the pride of my heart!--welcome, welcome. I beg pardon, ma'am, but I do love him so! PAULINE. Good woman, I really--why, Prince, what is this?--does the old lady know you? Oh, I guess you have done her some service. Another proof of your kind heart; is it not? MEL. Of my kind heart, ay! PAULINE. So you know the Prince? WIDOW. Know him, madam? Ah, I begin to fear it is you who know him not! PAULINE. Can we stay here, my lord? I think there's something very wild about her. MEL. Madam, I--no, I cannot tell her; what a coward is a man who has lost his honor! Speak to her--speak to her--[_to his mother_] tell her that--O Heaven, that I were dead! PAULINE. How confused he looks!--this strange place!--this woman--what can it mean?--I half suspect--who are you, madam?--who are you? can't you speak? are you struck dumb? WIDOW. Claude, you have not deceived her? Ah, shame upon you! I thought that, before you went to the altar, she was to have known all. PAULINE. All! what! My blood freezes in my veins!