The whole affair rests now with you, sir. Come!
[The Archers leadDidieroff on one side, the noblemen carrySavernyoff on the other.
DIDIER (toMarion, who is motionless from horror).
Forget me, Marion. Good-by! [They exit.
Marion, L'Angely
MARION (rushing to detain him).
Didier!What do you mean? Good-by? Why this good-by?Wherefore forget you?[The Soldiers push her off; she approachesL'Angelywith anguish.Is he lost for this?What did he do? What will they do to him?
[The Soldiers push her off; she approachesL'Angelywith anguish.
L'ANGELY (takes her hand and leads her in silence before the edict).
Read this!
MARION (reads, and starts back with horror).
My God! Just God! Condemned to death!They've taken him away. To kill him! Oh,I brought this ruin on him with my cries!I called for help, but my unhappy voiceFound death in the dark streets and brought her here.Impossible! A duel is no crime![ToL'Angely.They'll not kill him for that?
[ToL'Angely.
L'ANGELY.
I think they will.
MARION.
He can escape!
L'ANGELY.
The prison walls are high!
MARION.
I've brought this crime upon him with my sins.God strikes him for my sake! My Didier! love![ToL'Angely.] Nothing on earth seemed good enough for him!A prison cell—my God! Death! Torture too!
L'ANGELY.
Perhaps! It all depends—
MARION.
I'll find the King!He has a royal heart; he pardons.
L'ANGELY.
Yes,The King does, not the Cardinal.
MARION.
Then, what—What can I do?
L'ANGELY.
A capital offense,Nothing can save him from the fatal rope.
MARION.
Oh, grief![ToL'Angely.] You freeze my blood, sir. Who are you?
L'ANGELY.
I'm the King's jester!
MARION.
Oh, my Didier, love,I'm lost, unworthy; but what God can doWith a weak woman's hands, I'll show to you.Go on, my love; I follow!
[She goes out on the side from whichDidierleft.
L'ANGELY (alone).
God knows where![Picking up the sword whichDidierleft on the ground.Among all these, who'd think I was the fool?[He goes out.
[Picking up the sword whichDidierleft on the ground.
[He goes out.
THE COMEDY
Scene.—The Castle of Nangis. A park in the style of Henry IV. In the background on an elevation, the Castle of Nangis, part new, part old, is visible. The old, a castle-keep with arches and turrets: the new, a large brick house with corners of wrought stone, and pointed roof. The large door of the castle-keep is hung with black: from afar one distinguishes a coat-of-arms—that of the families of Nangis and of Saverny
M. DE LAFFEMAS, undress costume of a magistrate of the period.Marquis de Saverny, disguised as an officer of the Regiment of Anjou; with black mustache and imperial, and a plaster on the eye
LAFFEMAS.
Then you were present, sir, at the attack?
SAVERNY (pulling his mustache).
I was his comrade: had that honor, sir!But he is dead!
LAFFEMAS.
The Marquis de Saverny?
SAVERNY.
Yes, from a thrust in tierce, which burst the doublet,Then carved its cruel way between the ribsThrough to the chest and to the liver, which,As you well know, makes blood. The wound was fearful.'Twas horrible to see!
LAFFEMAS.
He died at once?
SAVERNY.
Almost. His agony was short. I watchedThe spasm follow frenzy; tetanosThen came, and after opisthotonosThere followed improstathonos.
LAFFEMAS.
The deuce!
SAVERNY.
So that I calculate 'tis false to sayThe blood passes the jugular. PequetAnd learned men should be condemned when theyDissect live dogs to study 'bout the lungs.
LAFFEMAS.
The poor marquis is dead.
SAVERNY.
A thrust is fatal.
LAFFEMAS.
You are a doctor, sir, of medicine?
SAVERNY.
No.
LAFFEMAS.
You have studied it?
SAVERNY.
Somewhat.In Aristotle.
LAFFEMAS.
You can talk it well!
SAVERNY.
Faith! I've a most malicious sort of heart.I like destruction; find delight in evil;I love to kill! So that I thought I'd beA soldier or a doctor, sir, at twenty.But I hesitated long, and finallyI chose the sword. It's not so sure, but twiceAs quick. There was a time, I will confess,I longed to be a poet or an actor,Or an exhibitor of bears—but then,I like dinner and supper every day.A plague upon the poetry and bears!
LAFFEMAS.
With this hope in your mind you studied verse?
SAVERNY.
A little bit, in Aristotle. Yes—
LAFFEMAS.
The Marquis knew you?
SAVERNY.
He knew me as wellAs a lieutenant knows an upstart soldier.I belonged to Monsieur de Caussade first,Who gave me to the Marquis' colonel. PoorThe present, but we do the best we can!They made me officer—I'm worth as muchAs any, and I wear a black mustache.That is my history.
LAFFEMAS.
They sent you hereTo notify the uncle?
SAVERNY.
Yes; I cameWith Brichanteau, the cousin, and the corpse.He will be buried here—where, if he'd lived,He would have had his wedding!
LAFFEMAS.
Tell me howThe old Marquis de Nangis bore the news.
SAVERNY.
With calmness, without tears.
LAFFEMAS.
He loved him though?
SAVERNY.
As much as we love life. Having no childrenOf his own he had but this one passion—His nephew, whom he dearly loved, althoughThey had not seen each other for five years.
[In the background, the oldMarquis de Nangispasses; white hair, pale countenance, arms folded across his breast, dress of the day of Henry IV.: deep mourning; the star and the ribbon of the order of the Holy Ghost. He walks slowly; nine guards in three rows follow; they are dressed in mourning, their halberds on their right shoulder, their muskets on their left; they keep within a short distance, stopping when he stops, and continuing when he continues.
LAFFEMAS (watching him pass).
Poor man!
[He goes to the back and followsThe Marquiswith his eyes.
SAVERNY (aside).
My good old uncle!
[Brichanteauenters and goes toSaverny.
The same.Brichanteau
BRICHANTEAU.
Ah! two words![Laughing.] He's looking pretty well for a dead man!
SAVERNY (low, indicatingThe Marquis, who passes).
Why do you make me grieve him, Brichanteau?I think we might explain it to him now.Oh, let me try.
BRICHANTEAU.
No; God forbid, my friend!His grief must be sincere; he must weep much.His woe is one good half of your disguise.
SAVERNY.
Poor uncle!
BRICHANTEAU.
He will find it out ere long.
SAVERNY.
If sorrow has not killed him, then joy will.These shocks are dangerous to such old men.
BRICHANTEAU.
It must be done!
SAVERNY.
I cannot bear to hearHim laugh so bitterly, then weep; then keepSo still! I hate to see him kiss that coffin.
BRICHANTEAU.
Yes—a fine coffin with no corpse in it!
SAVERNY.
But I am dead and bleeding in his heart.The corpse lies there.
LAFFEMAS (coming back).
Alas, the poor old man!His eyes show plainly how he's suffering!
BRICHANTEAU (low toSaverny).
Who is that surly-looking man in black?
SAVERNY (with gesture of ignorance).
Some friend who's living at the castle?
BRICHANTEAU (low).
CrowsAre also black and love the smell of death.Keep silence more than ever. 'Tis a faceThat's treacherous and evil; it would makeA madman prudent.
[The Marquis de Nangisre-enters; he is still absorbed in a deep reverie. He walks slowly, does not appear to notice any one, and seats himself upon a bank of turf.
The same.Marquis de Nangis
LAFFEMAS (approachingThe Marquis).
Marquis, we've lost much.He was a rare man; would have comfortedYour old age. I mingle my tears with yours.Young, handsome, good, naught more could be desired;Obeying God, respecting women, strong;Just in his actions, sensible in speech,A perfect nobleman, whom all revere!To die so young! Most cruel fate! Alas!
[The Marquislets his head fall on his hands.
SAVERNY (low toBrichanteau).
The devil take this funeral discourse!These praises but augment the old man's grief.Console him, you; Show him the other side.
BRICHANTEAU (toLaffemas).
You are mistaken, sir. I was in theSame grade. A bad comrade, this Saverny—A shiftless fellow, growing worse each day.Courageous! Every man is brave at twenty;His death is nothing much to boast about.
LAFFEMAS.
A duel! Surely, that is no great crime.[Banteringly toBrichanteau, pointing to his sword.You are an officer?
[Banteringly toBrichanteau, pointing to his sword.
BRICHANTEAU (in the same tone, pointing toLaffemas'swig).
A magistrate?
SAVERNY (low).
Go on!
BRICHANTEAU.
He was capricious, thankless, andA liar: not worth any real regret.He went to church, but just to ogle girls.He was a gallant, a mere libertine,A fool!
SAVERNY (low).
Good! good!
BRICHANTEAU.
Intractable and stubborn;Rude to his officers. As to good looks,He had lost his; he limped, had a large wenUpon his eye; from blonde had turned to red,And from round-shouldered had become hump-backed.
SAVERNY (low).
Enough!
BRICHANTEAU.
He gambled—every one knows that.He would have staked his soul on dice. I'll wagerThat cards had eaten up his property.His fortune galloped faster every night.
SAVERNY (low, pulling his sleeve).
Enough! Good God! Your consolation isToo strong.
LAFFEMAS.
To speak so ill of a dead friend!Unpardonable!
BRICHANTEAU (indicatingSaverny).
Ask this gentleman!
SAVERNY.
Oh, no; I beg to be excused!
LAFFEMAS (affectionately, to the oldMarquis).
My lord,We'll comfort you. We have his murderer,And we will hang him. We have kept him safe.His end is sure.[ToBrichanteauandSaverny.But can one understandThe Marquis? There are duels, we all know,That cannot be avoided, but to fightWith any one named Didier—
[ToBrichanteauandSaverny.
SAVERNY (aside).
What? Didier?
[The oldMarquis, who has remained silent and motionless during all this scene, rises and goes out slowly on the side opposite where he came in. His guards follow him.
LAFFEMAS (wiping away a tear and following him with his eyes).
In truth, his sorrow deeply touches me.
LACKEY (running).
My lord!
BRICHANTEAU.
Why can't you leave your master quiet?
LACKEY.
It is the burial of the young marquis!What is the hour?
BRICHANTEAU.
You'll know it by-and-by.
LACKEY.
A few comedians have arrived here fromThe city; they beg shelter for the night.
BRICHANTEAU.
The time's ill-chosen for comedians, butThe law of hospitality holds good.Give them this barn.
[Indicating a barn on the left.
LACKEY (holding a letter).
A letter! 'Tis important![Reading.] For a Monsieur de Laffemas.
LAFFEMAS.
'Tis I!Give it to me!
BRICHANTEAU (low toSaverny, who has remained thoughtful in a corner).
Saverny, let us go!Come and arrange things for your funeral![Pulling him by the sleeve.What is it? Are you dreaming?
[Pulling him by the sleeve.
SAVERNY (aside).
Oh, Didier!
[They go out.
LAFFEMAS (alone).
The seal of State! The great seal of red wax!Come! this is business. Let me know at once![Reading.] "Sir Criminal Lieutenant: We make knownTo you that Didier, the assassin ofThe late Marquis Gaspard, has fled." My God!That is unfortunate! "A woman isWith him, called Marion de Lorme. We begYou to return as soon as possible."Quick! Get me horses! I, who felt so sure!Another matter spoiled for want of sense.Outrageous! Of the two, not one! One, dead!Escaped, the other! I will catch him, though!
[He exits. Enter a troupe of strolling actors, men, women and children in character costumes. Among them areMarionandDidier, dressed as Spaniards.Didierwears a great felt hat and is covered with a cloak.
The Comedians,Marion, Didier
A LACKEY (conducting the Comedians to the barn).
This is your lodging. You're on the estateOf the Marquis de Nangis. Behave well,Try to be quiet, for some one is dead.The burial is to-morrow. Above all,Don't mix your songs with the funereal chantsWhich will be sung for him throughout the night.
GRACIEUX (small and hump-backed).
We'll make less noise than do your hunting-dogsWho bark around the legs of all who pass!
LACKEY.
Dogs are not actors, my good friend.
TAILLEBRAS (toGracieux).
Be still!You'll cause us to sleep in the open air!
[Lackeyexits.
SCARAMOUCHE (toMarionandDidier, who until now have remained quietly apart).
Come! let us talk. Now you belong to us.Why Monsieur fled with Madame on behind,If you are man and wife or lovers only,Escaping justice, or black sorcerersWho held Madame a prisoner, perhaps—Is not my business. What I want to knowIs what you'll act. Chimènes are best for you,Black eyes.
[Marionmakes a courtesy.
DIDIER (aside, indignant).
To hear that mountebank speak thus!
SCARAMOUCHE (toDidier).
For you: if you should want a splendid part,We need a bully—a long-leggèd man,Tremendous strides, a thundering voice; and whenOrgon is robbed of wife or niece, you killThe Moor and terminate the piece. Great part!High tragedy! 'Twill suit you splendidly.
DIDIER.
Just as you please!
SCARAMOUCHE.
Good! Don't say "you" to me!I like "thou"! [With a profound obeisance.Blusterer, hail!
DIDIER (aside).
What fools!
SCARAMOUCHE (to the other actors).
Now eat;Then we'll rehearse our parts.
[All enter the barn exceptMarionandDidier.
Marion,Didier; afterwardGracieux,Saverny, afterwardLaffemas
DIDIER (with bitter laugh, after a long silence).
Is't bad enough?My Marion, have I dragged you low enough?You wished to follow me? My destinyPrecipitates itself and crushes you,Bound to its wheel! What are we come to now?I told you so!
MARION (trembling and clasping her hands).
Do you reproach me, love?
DIDIER.
Oh, may I be accursed! Cursed first by Heaven,Then cursed 'mongst men: cursed throughout all my life;Cursed more than we are now, if a reproachShall ever leave my lips for you! What matterThough all the earth abandon me, you're mine!You are my savior, refuge, all my hope!Who duped the jailer, filed my chains for me?Who came from heaven to follow me to hell?Who was a captive with the prisoner,An exile with the fugitive? Ah, who,Who else had heart so full of love and wit,Heart to sustain, console, deliver me?Great, feeble woman, have you not saved meFrom destiny, alas! and my own soul?Had you not pity on my nature, crushed?Have you not loved one whom all others hate?
MARION (weeping).
It is my joy to love you—be your slave.
DIDIER.
Leave me your eyes, dear; they enrapture me!God willed, when placing soul within my flesh,A demon and an angel should guide me.Yet he was merciful; his love concealedThe demon, but the angel he revealed.
MARION.
You are my Didier, master, lord of me!
DIDIER.
Your husband, am I not?
MARION (aside).
Alas!
DIDIER.
What joy,When we have left this country far behind,To have you, call you wife as well as love!You will be willing?—answer.
MARION.
I will beYour sister, and my brother you shall be!
DIDIER.
Oh, no! Refuse me not that ecstasyOf knowing, in God's sight, you're mine alone!You're safe to trust my love in everything.The lover keeps you for the husband, pure!
MARION (aside).
Alas!
DIDIER.
If you knew how things torture me!To hear that actor talk, affront you thus!It is not least among our wretched woesTo see you mixed with jugglers such as these,A chaste, exquisite flower 'mid this filth—You, 'mongst these women steeped in infamy!
MARION.
Be prudent, Didier!
DIDIER.
God! I struggled hardAgainst my anger! He said "thou" to you,When I, your love, your husband, hardly dareFor fear of tarnishing that virgin brow—
MARION.
Be pleasant with them; it means life to you,And me as well.
DIDIER.
She's right. She's always right.Although each hour brings us increasing woe,You lavish on me love and joy and youth!How happens it these blessings come to me,When royal kingdoms were small pay for them—To me, who give but anguish in return?Heaven gave you—yes; but hell binds you to me.For us to merit this unequal fate,What good can I have done? What evil you?
MARION.
My only blessings come from you, my love!
DIDIER.
If you say that you think it, but it's wrong!Oh, yes, my star of destiny is bad.I know not whence I come, nor where I go.My whole horizon's dark. Love, hark to me!There's time yet; you can leave me and go back.Let me pursue the gloomy route alone.When all is ended and I'm tired out,The couch that's waiting will be cold—ice-cold,And narrow; there's not room enough for two.Go back!
MARION.
That couch, dark, and mysterious,I'll share it with you; that at least is mine.
DIDIER.
Will you not listen? Can't you understand?You're tempting Providence to cling to me!The years of anguish, love, may be so longYour sweet eyes may grow sightless, just from tears.
[Marionlets her head fall on her hands.
DIDIER.
I swear I draw the picture none too strong.Your future frightens me. I pity you!Go back!
MARION (bursting into tears).
It were more kind to kill me, Didier,Than to talk thus! [Weeping.] O God!
DIDIER (taking her in his arms).
My darling, hush!So many tears! I'd shed my blood for one.Do what you will! Come, be my destiny,My glory, life, my virtue, and my love!Answer me now. I speak! Sweet, do you hear?
[He seats her on a bank of turf.
MARION (withdrawing herself from his arms).
You've hurt me!
DIDIER (kneeling to her).
I, who'd gladly die for her!
MARION (smiling through her tears).
You made me cry, you cruel man!
DIDIER.
My beauty![Sits on the bank beside her.Just one sweet kiss upon your forehead, pureAs is our love![He kisses her forehead. They look at each other with ecstasy.Yes, look at me! Look thus,Look harder; look until we die of looking!
[Sits on the bank beside her.
[He kisses her forehead. They look at each other with ecstasy.
GRACIEUX (entering).
Dona Chimène is wanted in the barn.
[Marionrises hastily fromDidier'sside. At the same time thatGracieuxenters,Savernycomes in; he stands in the background and looks attentively atMarionwithout seeingDidier, who remains sitting on the bank and is hidden by a bush.
SAVERNY (back, without being seen, aside).
Faith, it is Marion! What brings her here?[Laughing.] Chimène!
GRACIEUX (toDidier, who is about to followMarion).
Oh, no! stay there, my jealous friend,I want to tease you!
DIDIER.
Devil take you!
MARION (low toDidier).
Hush!Restrain yourself.
[Didierre-seats himself; she enters the barn.
SAVERNY (still back, aside).
What makes her roam the country in this fashion?Can he be the gallant who succored me?Who saved my life? Didier! It is indeed!
LAFFEMAS (enters in traveling costume, and salutesSaverny).
I take my leave, sir!
SAVERNY (bowing).
You are going away?
[He laughs.
LAFFEMAS.
What makes you laugh?
SAVERNY.
A very silly thing.I'll tell you. Guess whom I have recognizedAmong those jugglers who have just arrived.
LAFFEMAS.
Among those jugglers?
SAVERNY (laughing still more).
Yes. Marion de Lorme!
LAFFEMAS (with a start).
Marion de Lorme!
DIDIER (who has been looking at them fixedly all the time).
Hein? [He half rises from the bank.
SAVERNY (still laughing).
I would like to sendThat news to Paris. Are you going there?
LAFFEMAS.
I am, and I will spread the news, trust me!But are you sure you recognize her?
SAVERNY.
Sure?Hurrah for France! We know our Marion.[Feeling in his pocket.I think I have her portrait—tender pledgeOf love! She had it done by the King's painter.[GivingLaffemasa locket.Look and compare them.[Indicating the barn door.See her, through that door,In Spanish costume, with green petticoat.
[Feeling in his pocket.
[GivingLaffemasa locket.
[Indicating the barn door.
LAFFEMAS (looking from the locket to the barn).