ABLAMORE.

Oh, how pale you are!...  Are you ill?

ALLADINE.

No.

ABLAMORE.

What is it in the park?—­Were you looking at the avenue of fountains that unfolds before your windows?—­They are wonderful and weariless.  They were raised there one by one, at the death of each of my daughters....  At night I hear them singing in the garden....  They bring to mind the lives they represent, and I can tell their voices apart....

ALLADINE.

I know.

ABLAMORE.

You must pardon me; I sometimes repeat the same things and my memory is less trust-worthy....  It is not age; I am not an old man yet, thank God! but kings have a thousand cares.  Palomides has been telling me his adventures....

ALLADINE.

Ah!

ABLAMORE.

He has not done what he would; young people have no will any more.—­He astonishes me.  I had chosen him among a thousand for my daughter.  He should have had a soul as deep as hers.—­He has done nothing which may not be excusable, but I had hoped more....  What do you say of him?

ALLADINE.

Who?

ABLAMORE.

Palomides?

ALLADINE.

I have only seen him one evening....

ABLAMORE.

He astonishes me.—­Everything has succeeded with him till now.  He would undertake a thing and accomplish it without a word.—­He would get out of danger without an effort, while others could not open a door without finding death behind it.—­He was of those whom events seem to await on their knees.  But a little while ago something snapped.  You would say he has no longer the same star, and every step he takes carries him further from himself.—­I don’t know what it is.—­He does not seem to be at all aware, but others can remark it....  Let us speak of something else:  look! the night comes; I see it rise along the walls.  Would you like to go together to the wood of Astolat, as we do other evenings?

ALLADINE.

I am not going out to-night.

ABLAMORE.

We will stay here, since you prefer it so.  Yet the air is sweet and the evening very fair. [ALLADINE starts without his noticing it.] I have had flowers set along the hedges, and I should like to show them to you....

ALLADINE.

No, not to-night....  If you wish me to....  I like to go there with you ... the air is pure and the trees ... but not to-night.... [Cowers, weeping, against the old man’s breast.] I do not feel quite well....

ABLAMORE.

What is the matter?  You are going to fall....  I will call....

ALLADINE.

No, no....  It is nothing....  It is over....

ABLAMORE.

Sit down.  Wait....