“And I declared myself ready to grant your petition,” interrupted Barbarina.  “Yes, I conformed myself to your wishes, and left Berlin, not, however, I confess, to do you a service, but because I did not love your son; and there is nothing more dull and wearisome than to listen to protestations of love that you cannot return.  But look you, gracious lady, that is a misfortune that pursues me at every step.  I left Berlin to escape this evil, and fled to London, to find there the same old story of a love I could not return.  I fled then from London, to escape the danger of becoming the wife of Lord Stuart McKenzie.”

“Why did you return to Berlin?” said Madame Cocceji, in an imperious tone.

Barbarina looked up surprised.  “Madame,” said she, “for that step I am accountable to no one.”

“Yes, you are accountable to me!” cried Madame Cocceji, enraged to the utmost by Barbarina’s proud composure.  “You are accountable to me—­me, the mother of Cocceji!  You have seduced him by your charms, and driven him to madness.  He defies his parents and the anger of his king, and yields himself up to this shameful passion, which covers his family with disgrace.”

Barbarina uttered a cry of rage, and advanced a few steps.  “Madame,” said she, laying her hand upon the arm of Madame Cocceji, “you have called this love shameful.  You have said that an alliance with me would disgrace your family.  Take back your words, I pray you!”

“I retract nothing.  I said but the truth,” cried Madame Cocceji, freeing herself from Barbarina.

“Take back your words, madame, for your own sake!” said Barbarina, threateningly.

“I cannot, and will not!” she replied, imperiously, “and if your pride and arrogance has not completely blinded you, in your heart you will confess that I am right.  The dancer Barbarina can never be the daughter of the Coccejis.  That would be a mockery of all honorable customs, would cast contempt upon the graves of our ancestors, and bring shame upon our nobility.  And yet my unhappy son dares think of this dishonor.  In his insane folly, he rushed madly from my presence, uttering words of rage and bitter reproach, because I tried to show him that this marriage was impossible.”

“Ah, I love him for this!” cried Barbarina, with a genial smile.

Without regarding her, Madame Cocceji went on:  “Even against his father, he has dared to oppose himself.  He defies the anger of his king.  Oh, signora, in the anguish of my soul I turn to you; have pity with me and with my most unhappy son!  He is lost; he will go down to the grave dishonored, if you do not come to my help!  If, indeed, you love him, your love will teach you to make the offering of self-sacrifice, and I will bless you, and forgive you all the anguish you have caused me.  If you love him not, you will not be so cruel as to bury the happiness and honor of a whole family because of your lofty ambition and your relentless will.  Hear my prayer—­ leave this city, and go so far away that my son can never follow, never reach you!”