e soft moon invite us.
Wilt walk? I pray thee, now,--I know the path,
Ay, every inch of it!

Pauline. What, thou! Methought
Thou wert a stranger in these parts? Ah, truant,
Some village beauty lured thee;--thou art now
Grown constant?

Mel. Trust me.

Pauline. Princes are so changeful!

Mel. Come, dearest, come.

Pauline. Shall I not call our people To light us?

Mel. Heaven will lend its stars for torches! It is not far.

Pauline. The night breeze chills me.

Mel. Nay, Let me thus mantle thee;--it is not cold.

Pauline. Never beneath thy smile!

Mel. [aside.] O Heaven! forgive me! [Exeunt

SCENE II.

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 the 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. Do you think she is mad? Can we stay here, my lord? I think
there's something very wild about her.

Mel. Madam, I--no, I cannot tell her; my knees knock together: 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!

Widow. Poor lady!--dare I tell her, Claude? [MELNOTTE makes a sign of
assent.] Know you not the