harity, but heaven will remember it hereafter: bestow
upon me one embrace, and then let me depart in silence.

(_Monica_ gives a sign to _Bertrand_ to advance.)

_Mon._ Yet hold some moments; a stranger has been inquiring here this
morning who describes himself your friend.

_Eug._ Ah! no, no: the tomb long since has covered all my friends; 'tis
some wily agent of my foe! Ah! forbid him mother; let him not
approach me.

_Mon._ 'Tis too late; he is already in the house.

_Eug._ Where?

(_Monica_ points, and _Eugenia's_ eyes following her direction,
rest upon the prostrate figure of _Bertrand_, who has placed
himself in a posture of supplication, and concealed his face with
his hands.)

_Eug._ (_gazing intensely with apprehension._) Speak! you kneel and
still are silent. Ah! what would you require of me?

_Bert._ (_uncovering his face without raising his eyes_) Pardon! pardon!

_Eug._ (_shrieking and flying_) Ah! Bertrand.

_Bert._ (_catching her mantle_) Stay! angel of mercy, stay and hear me.
He that was your scourge now yields himself your slave: a wretched
penitent despairing man lies humbled in the dust before you, and
implores for pardon.

_Eug._ (_pauses--presses her crucifix to her lips, and then replies with
fervor._) Yes! charity and peace to all! Nay, heaven forgive thee,
sinful man, I never will accuse thee at its bar.

_Bert._ Angel! my actions better than my prayers may plead with heaven
for mercy: the cruel wrongs that I have offered, yet in part may be
atoned--lady, I come to serve and save you.

_Eug._ Ah! to what fresh terrors am I yet devoted?

_Bert._ Might we converse without a witness? in your ear only dare I
breathe my purpose.

_Mon._ Nay, I will not be an eaves-dropper: my child you do not fear
this person now? I'll leave you with him--nay, 'tis best--perchance he
comes indeed with service. My blessings go with you, stranger, if you
mean her fairly, but if you wrong or play her false, a widow's curse
fall heavy on your death-bed. [_Exit up the staircase._

(A pause of mutual agitation.)

_Eug._ Speak! man of terrors--say what has the persecuted and undone
Eugenia yet to dread?

_Bert._ The baron Longueville--

_Eug._ That fiend!

_Bert._ He now is in the neighbourhood; as yet he dreams not that you
live: but accident this very hour might betray you to his knowledge.
Lady! I possess the means. O blessed chance! to shield you from his
malice.

_E