_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 h