Julia.
Went back! But he'll return!----
Pierre.
You've dumped me into a pretty mess, you have!
Julia.
Do, for goodness' sake, stop pitying yourself, and tell me what's to be done.
Pierre.
Haven't I told you?
Julia.
I'll not go away! I will not go away! He can't come in here! I will not leave this place!
Pierre.
Listen! I'll have a carriage here--at one o'clock in the night--behind the park wall. Take it as far as the station.--Listen, I tell you!
Julia.
No, no, no! As soon as I step into the street, I'm lost. And you, too! You don't know him! Gentle and tractable as he seems, when once he's angry, his blood boils over!--If I hadn't taken the cartridges out of his revolver in those days, he-- Why, I've seen him pick up two unmanageable boys on our place and swing them over his shoulder into the mill stream! And they would have been ground to pieces, too, if he hadn't braced himself against the shaft. Pierre, Pierre, never get into his way again. He's merciless!
Pierre(feigning indifference).
Oh, nonsense! I can hit the ace of hearts at twenty paces! I'll show him!
Julia.
Yes, you'll "show him"! Do you suppose that he's going to wait until you take a shot at him?--Devilish much he cares about your duels! He'd make a clod of earth out of you before you'd have time to take off your hat!--I tell you, bolt the gate, lock every room in the house, hide behind your mother's chair,--and even there you won't be safe from him!
Pierre.
(Struggling against his growing apprehension.) If that's the case, then--h'm, then the best thing for me to do is to disappear for a time.
Julia(trying to cling to him).
Yes, let's go away together!
Pierre(moving aside).
That might suit you.
Julia.
But, after all, it would do no good. We could hide among crowds of people--in Piccadilly or in Batignolles--we could go to India or to Texas--and yet, if he took it into his head, he would find us none the less. Even if we should evade him--some day, sooner or later, you would have to return--and then--you would have to pay the penalty!
Pierre(stammering).
I--would--have to----
Julia(wildly).
So stay--stay here! Go and shoot him down!--at night--from behind!--It doesn't matter! Only--let--me--breathe--again.
Pierre.
Do you want to drive me mad? Don't you see that I'm trembling all over?
Julia.
Because you're a cad and a coward--because----
Pierre.
Yes, yes--anything, for all I care! But go! Leave my property! Insult me, spit on me,--but go!
Julia.
And what then? What then?
Pierre.
Can't you write to him? Tell him that you have come back from your little journey--that you have reconsidered--that you can't live without him. Tell him to forget--and all shall be as it was before.--Now, wouldn't that be splendid?
Julia.
Now when he suspects?--When he can follow me, step by step, here to this pavilion and back again? (Contemptuously.) Splendid!
Pierre.
Then try something else!--Oh, now I have it! Now I have it!
Julia.
Speak, Pierre, for God's sake, speak! I'll love you as--! Speak! Speak!
Pierre.
You know him. His heart is soft?
Julia.
Yes, except when he's in a rage, then----
Pierre.
And you are sure that he loves you deeply?
Julia.
If he didn't love me so much, what need we fear?
Pierre.
Good! Well then, take a carriage at the station and drive home; throw yourself at his feet and tell him everything. Tell him, for all I care, that you hate me--that you loathe me--I don't mind--grovel before him until he raises you. And then all will be well!
Julia.
Ah, if it were possible!--It would be deliverance--it would be heaven! I should be safe once more--a human being!--I should see the sun again, instead of these streaks of light!--I should breathe the fresh air, instead of this musty odour of dead roses!--I shouldn't have to sink down, down into the filth!--I shouldn't have to be a bad woman--even if I am one!--There would be a respectable divorce--or perhaps merely a separation. For, I no longer dare hope to live with him as his wife, even if I were satisfied to be no better than his dog for the rest of my days!--Ah, but it cannot be! It cannot be! You don't know him. You don't know what he's like when the veins stand out on his forehead!--He would kill me!--Rather than that--kill me yourself!--Here--now--this moment!--Get your duelling pistols. Oh no! There--there--there are plenty of weapons! (She pulls at the weapons on the wall, several of which fall clattering upon the floor.) Swords--daggers--here! (Throws an armful on the chaise-longue.) They are rusty--but that doesn't matter.--Take one! Stab me first--then--do as you please!--Live if you can--do!--live as happily as you can! Your life is in your hands.
Pierre.
Yes--I dare say. Live!--But how? Where? (Sobs chokingly.)
Julia.
Come, then--we'll die together--together! (They sink into each other's arms and remain motionless in mute despair. After a time, Juliaraises her head cautiously and looks about her.) Pierre!
Pierre(troubled).
Well?
Julia.
Has it occurred to you? Perhaps it isn't so, after all!
Pierre.
What do you mean?
Julia.
Perhaps we've just been talking ourselves into this notion, little by little--think so?
Pierre.
You mean that he really wanted to do nothing but--look at the pavilion?
Julia.
Well, it's possible, you know.
Pierre.
Yes--at least nothing very unusual occurred.
Julia.
But your naughty, naughty conscience came and asserted itself. Ha! Ha! What a silly little boy it is! A downright stupid little boy!
Pierre.
My imagination was always rather easily aroused. I----
Julia(laughing without restraint).
Such a stupid boy!--Pierre, let's make some coffee--for a change, eh?
Pierre.
But you know--I have to----
Julia.
Dear me, mamma has had her tea long ago. Tell her you sat down in the shade--and fell asleep--anything! It's growing a bit shady here now. See there! The streaks of light have gone. (Indicates a corner of the room in which the streaks of light have just grown dim.) Ah! but how hot it is! (Tears her dress open at the throat, breathing heavily.) Will you bring me the coffee-pot, like a good boy?
Pierre(listlessly).
Oh, well--all right. (Carries the coffee-pot to the table.)
Julia.
Pierre, you--you couldn't open the small door just a tiny bit? No one would look into the shrubbery.
Pierre.
Well, out there in the shrubbery, it's even hotter than in here.
Julia.
Oh, just try it--won't you?
Pierre.
Well, you'll see! (Opens the door at the left.)
Julia.
Whew! It's like a blast from a furnace! And that disgusting odour--a mixture of perspiration and bad perfume--ugh!
Pierre.
That's from the roses of our by-gone days--they lie out there in great heaps.
Julia.
Close the door! Hurry--close it!
Pierre(does so).
I told you how it would be!
Julia.
Well, perhaps you could adjust the shutters at the large door so that we'd get more fresh air in here.
Pierre.
Even that would be dangerous. If some one happened to be looking this way and saw the movement----
Julia(going to the door).
One has to do it slowly, ve-ry slow-ly-- (She starts, uttering a low cry of fear, and retreats to the foreground, her arms outstretched as if she were warding off a ghost.)
Pierre.
What's the matter?
Julia.
Sh! Sh! (Approaches him cautiously, then softly.) There's a man--out there.
Pierre.
Where?
Julia.
Hush! Come here you can see it against the light. (They cautiously change places.Pierreutters a low shriek, thenJulia,softly, despairingly) Pierre!
Pierre.
It must be the gardener.
Julia.
It's not--the--gardener.
Pierre.
Who is it then?
Julia.
Creep around--and lock--the glass door.
Pierre(weak from fright).
I can't.
Julia.
Then I will. (She has taken but a few steps toward the door when the streaks of light again become visible.) He's gone now!
Pierre.
How--gone?
Julia.
There--there--nothing----
Pierre.
Seize the opportunity--and go.
Julia.
Where?
Pierre.
To the gardener's house--quick--before he comes back.
Julia.
In broad daylight--half dressed as I am?
Pierre.
Throw on a wrap--anything--hurry! (Knocking at the door on the left. They both stand rooted to the spot. The knocking is repeated. ThenPierre,in a choking voice) Come in.
(Wittichenters. He is a large, burly man of about forty, whose whole appearance betrays neglect; his sandy-coloured hair is pushed back from his forehead in damp strands; his beard is straggling and unkempt; his face is haggard and perspiring, his eyes lustreless. He staggers heavily in walking. He speaks in a stammering, hesitating voice; he gives the impression, in sum, of a man who is deathly ill, but is making an intense effort to hold himself together.)
Wittich.
I beg your pardon if I am disturbing you. (Both stare at him without venturing to move.)
Pierre(taking heart).
Oh--p-p-please----
Wittich.
I see you were about to make coffee. Really--I don't want to----
Pierre(stammering).
P-p-please--th-there's no--hurry----
Wittich.
Well, then we may as well--settle--our affair--first. (Julia,who has been standing quite still, panting, utters a low groan. At the sound of her voice,Wittichcatches his breath as if suffocating, then sinks into one of the chairs at the left and stares vacantly at the floor.)
Pierre(edging up toJuliathen softly).
Can you understand this?
Julia(glancing back--aside toPierre).
Keep near the weapons!
Pierre(asWittichmoves).
Hush!
Wittich.
You must forgive me--I only wanted to--look after--my--wife. (Breaks down again.)
Pierre(aside toJulia).
Why, he's quite out of his mind!
Julia.
Keep near the weapons!
Wittich.
I don't care--to settle--this matter--by means of a--so-called--affair of honour. I'm a plain man. I only know about such things from hearsay. And any way--I don't see that they help--m-matters much. (Breaks into tearless sobs.)
Pierre(aside).
He won't hurt us.
Julia(stammering).
I simply--don't--understand it--at all!
Pierre(pointing toWittich).
Try it! Go to him!
Julia.
He's not a bit like himself.
Pierre.
Go on! Go on!
Julia.
(Who has timidly approached her husband, bid has drawn back at a movement of his, suddenly throws herself at his feet with great emotion.) George! George!--I am guilty!--I have sinned before God and you!--I acknowledge my crime!--My life is in your hands!--Crush me--grind me to dust!--But God knows, I only obeyed a wretched impulse. My love for you has never left my heart.--My one desire is to die. Kill me!--Here!--Now!--But forgive me! Ah, forgive me!
Wittich(staring straight ahead).
Yes, they always talk like that--in books, at least.
Julia.
Forgive me!
Wittich.
There is nothing to forgive. And I am not going to kill any one. What good would it do? (Juliasobs, hiding her face in her hands.)
Pierre.
Well, then--don't kneel there--like that--Julia, dear!
Julia.
I shall lie here until he raises me. Raise me! Take me in your arms! Oh, George----
Wittich.
Yes, that's what they always say. (Sinks into reverie again.)
Pierre(aside to her).
Hush! Stand up! (She does so.) Well--h'm--I suppose I may assume, Herr Wittich, that you had some purpose in seeking this interview?
Wittich.
Yes--yes. (Looking about him.) I can well imagine that my wife--er--that the lady must find it very pleasant here.
Pierre.
Oh, yes--we needn't hesitate to say that, need we, Julia, dear?
Julia(uncertainly adopting his tone).
No, indeed, Pierre, dear.
Wittich.
At least--she seems to have plenty of roses here.
Julia(laughing nervously).
Oh, yes--plenty.
Wittich.
May I ask whether the lady has made any arrangements for the future?
Julia(still timidly).
I was thinking of making my home in Paris, wasn't I, Pierre?
Pierre.
Yes. You see, Julia wants to live a life suited to her tastes and inclinations--a life such as she cannot have even here--a life consecrated to Beauty and Art.
Wittich.
They say that an existence of that sort comes high. Has my wife--er--has the lady made any provision for her expenses?
Pierre(embarrassed).
From the moment that I become of age I shall be in a position to--h'm--h'm----
Wittich.
I see. Butuntilthat moment--?
Pierre.
I--er----
Wittich.
Well, I consider it my duty--and mine alone--to protect the woman whom--until recently--I called my wife. And to save her from ruin, I am willing to make any sacrifice whatsoever.
Pierre.
Oh, as for that, of course----
Wittich.
I intend to put no obstacle in the way of your desire to legitimize your relations.
Pierre.
Very kind of you--really--very thoughtful indeed.
Wittich.
Not because--not that I don't dare insist uponmyrights in this affair, but because I want to guardherfrom lifelong misery.
Pierre.
Really, you wouldn't believe how often we have discussed this question--would he, Julia, dear?
Julia.
But I am never going to grant your wish, Pierre, dear. You shall keep your liberty--you shall be free! Even as I ask nothing better than to follow my own inclinations. If I am ruined because of them--well, it's no one's concern but my own--no one's! (Tosses her head.)
Wittich.
May I inquire what those inclinations are?
Julia.
It's hard to say--off-hand.--You must feel it--you must-- Well, I want to be free!--I want to hold my fate in my own hands!--I want-- Oh, why talk about it? What is one poor, human life?--especially a life like mine!--I am branded--doomed to the gutter!--One need use no ceremony with me now!
Wittich.
Really! Well--h'm--if I had known that you felt that way about it--I should have made you--a different proposition--Julia, dear.
Julia.
Tell me! Please!
Pierre.
Yes--tell us--please!
Wittich.
I suppose I may assume that the people at the castle know nothing of this little adventure of the young Count's?
Pierre.
You may rest assured, my dear sir, that I know what is due a woman's honour.
Wittich.
Ah--really!--Well, I'm sure no one saw me coming here. So then, there need be no scandal.
Pierre.
That would certainly be most agreeable to all parties concerned.
Wittich.
But--how did the lady propose to leave here without being seen?
Pierre.
Pray, my dear sir, let that be my concern.
Wittich.
That concern, however, I shall share with you--my dear sir. And it seems to me that the best plan would be for the lady to put on a decent dress, walk through the grounds with me, and pay a visit to the Countess at the castle.
Pierre.
What!--my mother--? What's the use of that?
Wittich.
It will look as if she'd returned--and we'd--somehow--met here.
Pierre.
Do you think any one is going to believe that?
Wittich(proudly).
What else should they believe?
Julia(frightened anew).
Oh, but I don't want to! I don't want to do that! Pierre! I want to stay with you! I am under your protection, Pierre!
Pierre.
See here, my dear sir, let us suppose that your plan is successful--what then?
Julia.
Yes--yes--afterward--what then?
Wittich.
Then?--Then-- (Looks from one to the other, uncertainly, almost imploringly, and breaks down again.)
Pierre.
Well--won't you go on with your proposition?
Wittich.
Yes, I suppose that when a man has acted as I have acted here, he must have lost--his sense of pride--and honour--and all the rest of it--long ago.--Then nothing is left him but--his duty.--And the thing that seems to me my--duty--I am going to do.--Let the Count sneer at me--I no longer----
Pierre.
Oh, please--I say!
Wittich.
Well, then, let me tell you something, Julia. After I had read the letter from Brussels, I had two rooms prepared for you--in the left wing--quite apart; so that some day, in case--you ever--came back-- Oh, well--it doesn't matter now. But the rooms--are--still there--and if you would like to come home with me now--straight off--well, you might be spared--some annoyance.
Pierre.
H'm--so you're willing--? (Shrugs his shoulders and laughs.) I suppose that sort of thing is all a matter of taste--but I can understand----
Wittich.
I am speaking to you, Julia.
Julia.
Oh, I thank you most heartily, George. It's certainly very noble of you--and--I deeply appreciate it. But after--this, I should always feel ashamed before you--I should feel that I was just being tolerated--I-- No. Thank you, George--but I couldn't stand it.
Pierre(correcting her).
That is--! (Aside toJulia.) Don't be a fool!
Wittich(without noticingPierre).
You shall never hear a word of reproach from my lips, Julia, dear.
Julia.
But--if I should actually accept--we never could go on as we did before, you know. I must be free to do exactly as I please--to go away--come back--just as I like. There is such a thing as the sovereignty of the individuality, my dear George--you can't deny that.
Pierre.
Herr Wittich can't possibly deny that!
Wittich.
You shall have your own way as far as it lies in my power, Julia, dear.
Julia.
And then, you must try to bring a little more--more beauty into our life.--I surely have the right to demand that. Just look about you here. You know how passionately fond of roses I am. My soul demands something besides--potatoes! Well, I insist upon having roses around me. That's not unreasonable, is it?
Wittich.
You shall have roses enough to smother you.
Pierre(nervously).
Well, then, Julia, dear, I see no reason why we should not accept this proposition.