MISS COEURNE [_holding her handkerchief to her face but shedding no tears_]. Am I so homely?
GERARDO. Homely! Not homely, but young and indiscreet. [_He rises nervously, goes to the right, comes back, puts his arm around her waist and takes her hand._] Listen to me, child. You are not homely because I have to be a singer, because I have to be an artist. Don't misunderstand me, but I can't see why I should simply, because I am an artist, have to assure you that I appreciate your youthful freshness and beauty. It is a question of time. Two hundred, maybe three hundred, nice, lovely girls of your age saw me last night in the rôle of Tannhäuser. Now if every one of those girls made the same demands upon me which you are making--what would become of my singing? What would become of my voice? What would become of my art?
[_Miss Coeurne sinks into a seat, covers her face and weeps._]
GERARDO [_leaning over the back of her chair, in a friendly tone_]. It is a crime for you, child, to weep over the fact that you are still so young. Your whole life is ahead of you. Is it my fault if you fell in love with me? They all do. That is what I am for. Now won't you be a good girl and let me, for the few minutes I have left, prepare myself for to-morrow's appearance?
MISS COEURNE [_rising and drying her tears_]. I can't believe that any other girl would have acted the way I have.
GERARDO [_leading her to the door_]. No, dear child.
MISS COEURNE [_with sobs in her voice_]. At least, not if--
GERARDO. If my valet had stood before the door.
GERARDO. If the girl had been as beautiful and youthfully fresh as you.
GERARDO. If she had heard me only once in "Tannhäuser."
MISS COEURNE [_indignant_]. If she were as respectable as I am!
GERARDO [_pointing to the piano_]. Before saying good-by to me, child, have a look at all those flowers. May this be a warning to you in case you feel tempted again to fall in love with a singer. See how fresh they all are. And I have to let them wither, dry up, or I give them to the porter. And look at those letters. [_He takes a handful of them from a tray._] I don't know any of those women. Don't worry; I leave them all to their fate. What else could I do? But I'll wager with you that every one of your lovely young friends sent in her little note.