Scene IV.

Arabella, Hannah, Mellefont, Marwood.

MELLEFONT.

What do I see? It is she! Marwood, how could you dare to----

MARWOOD.

Am I not her mother? Come, my Bella, see, here is your protector again, your friend, your .... Ah! his heart may tell him what more he can be to you than a protector and a friend.

MELLEFONT (_turning away his face_).

God, what shall I have to suffer here?

ARABELLA (_advancing timidly towards him_).

Ah, Sir! Is it you? Are you our Mellefont? No, Madam, surely, surely it is not he! Would he not look at me, if it were? Would he not hold me in his arms? He used to do so. What an unhappy child I am! How have I grieved him, this dear, dear man, who let me call him my father?

MARWOOD.

You are silent, Mellefont? You grudge the innocent child a single look?

MELLEFONT.

Ah!

ARABELLA.

Why, he sighs, Madam! What is the matter with him? Cannot we help him? Cannot I? Nor you? Then let us sigh with him! Ah, now he looks at me! No, he looks away again! He looks up to Heaven! What does he want? What does he ask from Heaven? Would that Heaven would grant him everything, even if it refused me everything for it!

MARWOOD.

Go, my child, go, fall at his feet! He wants to leave us, to leave us for ever.

ARABELLA (_falling on her knees before him_).

Here I am already. You will leave us? You will leave us for ever? Have not we already been without you for a little "for ever." Shall we have to lose you again? You have said so often that you loved us. Does one leave the people whom one loves? I cannot love you then, I suppose, for I should wish never to leave you. Never, and I never will leave you either.

MARWOOD.

I will help you in your entreaties, my child! And you must help me too! Now, Mellefont, you see me too at your feet....

MELLEFONT (_stopping her, as she throws herself at his feet_).

Marwood, dangerous Marwood! And you, too, my dearest Bella (_raising her up_), you too are the enemy of your Mellefont?

ARABELLA.

I your enemy?

MARWOOD.

What is your resolve?

MELLEFONT.

What it ought not to be, Marwood; what it ought not to be.

MARWOOD (_embracing him_).

Ah, I know that the honesty of your heart has always overcome the obstinacy of your desires.

MELLEFONT.

Do not importune me any longer! I am already what you wish to make me; a perjurer, a seducer, a robber, a murderer!

MARWOOD.

You will be so in imagination for a few days, and after that you will see that I have prevented you from becoming so in reality. You will return with us, won't you?

ARABELLA (_insinuatingly_).

Oh yes, do!

MELLEFONT.

Return with you! How can I?

MARWOOD.

Nothing is easier, if you only wish it.

MELLEFONT.

And my Sara----

MARWOOD.

And your Sara may look to herself.

MELLEFONT.

Ha! cruel Marwood, these words reveal the very bottom of your heart to me. And yet I, wretch, do not repent?

MARWOOD.

If you had seen the bottom of my heart, you would have discovered that it has more true pity for your Sara than you yourself have. I say true pity; for your pity is egotistic and weak. You have carried this love-affair much too far. We might let it pass, that you as a man, who by long intercourse with our sex has become master in the art of seducing, used your superiority in dissimulation and experience against such a young maiden, and did not rest until you had gained your end. You can plead the impetuosity of your passion as your excuse. But, Mellefont, you cannot justify yourself for having robbed an old father of his only child, for having rendered to an honourable old man his few remaining steps to the grave harder and more bitter, for having broken the strongest ties of nature for the sake of your desires. Repair your error, then, as far as it is possible to repair it. Give the old man his support again, and send a credulous daughter back to her home, which you need not render desolate also, because you have dishonoured it.

MELLEFONT.

This only was still wanting--that you should call in my conscience against me also. But even supposing what you say were just, must I not be brazenfaced if I should propose it myself to the unhappy girl?

MARWOOD.

Well, I will confess to you, that I have anticipated this difficulty, and considered how to spare you it. As soon as I learned your address, I informed her old father privately of it. He was beside himself with joy, and wanted to start directly. I wonder he has not yet arrived.

MELLEFONT.

What do you say?

MARWOOD.

Just await his arrival quietly, and do not let the girl notice anything. I myself will not detain you any longer. Go to her again; she might grow suspicious. But I trust that I shall see you again to-day.

MELLEFONT.

Oh, Marwood! With what feelings did I come to you, and with what must I leave you! A kiss, my dear Bella.

ARABELLA.

That was for you, now one for me! But come back again soon, do!

(_Exit_ Mellefont).