Help, Prokesch!

VOICES.

We shall have to force him.

THE DUKE.

[_To the_ ATTACHE.]

And you, who say you came in my defence,
It is by robbing me of faith and scruple,
They would assassinate me truly! Now, defend me!

THE ATTACHE.

No, Sire! begone!

THE DUKE.

What, _you!_ this base advice?

THE ATTACHE.

Go, Sire, I will defend the woman.

THE DUKE.

You?
You cannot.

THE ATTACHE.

Not as partisan; as friend.

THE DUKE.

It would ensure my flight.

THE ATTACHE.

Begone, my Lord.
Whate'er I do is for the Countess.

THE DUKE.

Yes,
But I--

PROKESCH.

I'll lead him.

THE ATTACHE.

Prokesch knows the way.

THE DUKE.

[_Still hesitating._]

I cannot--

VOICES.

Yes!

MARMONT.

The better way!

VOICES.

Begone.

THE COUNTESS CAMERATA.

[_Entering, still in her disguise._]

Unhappy boy! Not gone!

THE DUKE.

You!--but they told me--
How could I go?

THE COUNTESS.

On horseback.

THE DUKE.

But your life--!

THE COUNTESS.

A woman's life! What loss would that have been?

THE DUKE.

But--

THE COUNTESS.

You should have abandoned me.

THE DUKE.

But think!

THE COUNTESS.

Think of the time you've lost!

THE DUKE.

Your risks--?

THE COUNTESS.

What risks?

THE DUKE.

And all our fears on your behalf--

THE COUNTESS.

What fears?
Was not your Flambeau, there, my fencing-master?

THE DUKE.

The man--?

THE COUNTESS.

Begone!

THE DUKE.

What did you do?

THE COUNTESS.

Oh, nothing.
Of course he drew his sword, and I drew mine.

THE DUKE.

You fought for me!

THE COUNTESS.

"I did not know," he muttered,
"The Corsican's son had so much skill, I think
He knew it not himself"--But then my voice--

THE DUKE.

Oh! You are wounded!

THE COUNTESS.

Scratched across the fingers.
My voice betrayed me. B