pplauded, while I shall be despised. And you do not wish me to defend
myself! You have nothing but bitter words for a woman who has hidden
from you everything--her remorse--her tears! I have suffered alone and
without you the wrath of heaven; alone and without you I have
descended into my soul's abyss, an abyss which has been opened by the
earthquake of sorrow; and, while repentance was gnawing at my heart, I
had for you nothing but looks of tenderness, and smiles of gaiety!
Come, Ferdinand, do not despise a slave who lies in such utter
subjection to your will!

Ferdinand (aside)
I must put an end to this. (Aloud) Listen to me, Gertrude. When first
we met it was youth alone united us in love. I then yielded, you may
say, to an impulse of that egotism which lies at the bottom of every
man's heart, though he knows it not, concealed under the flowers of
youthful passion. There is so much turbulence in our sentiments at
twenty-two! The infatuation which may seize us then, permits us not to
reflect either upon life as it really is, or upon the seriousness of
its issues--

Gertrude (aside)
How calmly he reasons upon it all! Ah! It is infamous!

Ferdinand
And at that time I loved you freely, with entire devotion; but
afterwards--afterwards, life changed its aspect for both of us. If you
ask why I remained under a roof which I should never have approached,
it is because I chose in Pauline the only women with whom it was
possible for me to end my days. Come, Gertrude, do not break yourself
to pieces against the barrier raised by heaven. Do not torture two
beings who ask you to yield to them happiness, and who will ever love
you dearly.

Gertrude
Ah, I see! You are the martyr--and I--I am the executioner! Would not
I have been your wife to-day, if I had not set your happiness above
the satisfaction of my love?

Ferdinand
Very well! Do the same thing to-day, by giving me my liberty.

Gertrude
You mean the liberty of loving some one else. That is not the way you
spoke twelve years ago. Now it will cost my life.

Ferdinand
It is only in romance that people die of love. In real life they seek
consolation.

Gertrude
Do not you men die for your outraged honor, for a word, for a gesture?
Well, there are women who die for their love, that is, when their love
is a treasure which has become their all, which is their very life!
And I am one of those women. Since you have been under this roof,
Ferdinand, I have feared a cata