No, nothing. Corneille still upsets all heads.Guiche has obtained the order; Ast is duke.Of trifles, plenty—thirty HuguenotsWere hung; a quantity of duels. OnThe third, D'Angennes fought Arquien on accountOf wearing point of Genoa; the tenth,Lavardie had a rendezvous with Pons,Because he'd taken Sourdis' wife from him.Sourdis and D'Ailly met about a creatureIn the theater Mondori. On the ninth,Lachâtre fought with Nogent because he wroteThree rhymes of Colletet's badly; MargaillanWith Gorde, about the time of day; D'HumièreWith Gondi on the way to walk in church;And all the Brissacs 'gainst all the SoubisesFor some bet on a horse against a dog.Then Caussade and Latournelle fought for nothing—Merely for fun: Caussade killed Latournelle.
BRICHANTEAU.
Gay Paris! Duels have begun again.
GASSÉ.
It is the fashion!
BRICHANTEAU.
Feasts and love and fighting!There is the only place to live![Yawning.] All oneCan do here is to die of weariness.[ToGassé.] You say Caussade killed Latournelle?
GASSÉ.
He did,With a good gash![ExaminingRochebaron'ssleeves.What's that you wear, my friend?Those trimmings are not fashionable now.What! cords and buttons? Nothing could be worse.You must have bows and ribbons.
[ExaminingRochebaron'ssleeves.
BRICHANTEAU.
Pray repeatThe list of duels. How about the King?What does he say?
GASSÉ.
The Cardinal's enragedAnd means to stop it.
BOUCHAVANNES.
Any news from camp?
GASSÉ.
I think we captured Figuère by surprise—Or else we lost it.[Reflecting.] Yes, that's it. 'Tis lost!They took it from us.
ROCHEBARON.
Ah! What said the King?
GASSÉ.
The Cardinal is most dissatisfied.
BRICHANTEAU.
How is the Court? I hope the King is well.
GASSÉ.
Alas! the Cardinal has fever andThe gout, and goes out only in a litter.
BRICHANTEAU.
Queer! We talk King, you answer Cardinal!
GASSÉ.
It is the fashion!
BOUCHAVANNES.
So there's nothing new!
GASSÉ.
Did I say so? There's been a miracle,A prodigy, which has amazed all ParisFor two months past; the flight, the disappearance—
BRICHANTEAU.
Go on! Of whom?
GASSÉ.
Of Marion de Lorme,The fairest of the fair!
BRICHANTEAU (with an air of mystery).
Here's news for you.She's here!
GASSÉ.
At Blois?
BRICHANTEAU.
Incognito!
GASSÉ.
What! she?In this place? Oh, you must be jesting, sir!Fair Marion, who sets the fashions! Bah!This Blois is the antipodes of Paris.Observe! How ugly, old, ungainly, 'tis!Even those towers—[Indicating the towers of St. Nicholas.Uncouth and countrified!
[Indicating the towers of St. Nicholas.
ROCHEBARON.
That's true.
BRICHANTEAU.
Won't you believe Saverny whenHe says he saw her, hidden somewhere withA lover, and this lover saved his lifeWhen thieves attacked him in the street at night?—Good thieves, who took his purse for charity,And just desired his watch to know the time.
GASSÉ.
You tell me wonders!
ROCHEBARON (toBrichanteau).
Are you sure of it?
BRICHANTEAU.
As sure as that I have six silver bezantsUpon a field of azure. SavernyHas no desire, at present, but to findThis man.
BOUCHAVANNES.
He ought to find him at her house.
BRICHANTEAU.
She's changed her name and lodging, and all traceOf her is lost.
[MarionandDidiercross the back of the stage slowly without being noticed by the talkers; they enter a small door in one of the houses on the side.
GASSÉ.
To have to come to BloisTo find our Marion, a provincial!
[EnterCount de VillacandChevalier de Montpesat, disputing loudly.
VILLAC.
No!I tell you no!
MONTPESAT.
And I—I tell you, yes!
VILLAC.
Corneille is bad!
MONTPESAT.
To treat Corneille like that—The author of "The Cid" and of "Melite."
VILLAC.
"Melite"? Well, I will grant you that is good;But he degenerated after that,As they all do. I'll do the best I canTo satisfy you: talk about "Melite,""The Gallery of the Palace," but "The Cid!"What is it, pray?
GASSÉ (toMontpesat).
You are conservative.
MONTPESAT.
"The Cid" is good!
VILLAC.
I tell you it is bad!Your "Cid"—why Scudéry can crush it withA touch! Look at the style! It deals with thingsExtraordinary; has a vulgar tone;Describes things plainly by their common names;Besides, it is obscene, against the law!"The Cid" has not the right to wed Chimène!Now have you read Pyramus, Bradamante?When Corneille writes such tragedies, I'll read!
ROCHEBARON (toMontpesat).
"The Great and Last Soliman" of Mairet,You must read that: that is fine tragedy!But for your "Cid."
VILLAC.
What self-conceit he has!Does he not think he equals Boisrobert,Mairet, Gombault, Serisay, Chapelain,Bautru, Desmarets, Malleville, Faret,Cherisy, Gomberville, Colletet, Giry,Duryer—indeed, all the Academy?
BRICHANTEAU (laughing compassionately and shrugging his shoulders).
Good!
VILLAC.
Then the gentleman deigns to create!Create! Faith! after Garnier, Theophile,And Hardy! Oh, the coxcomb! To create!An easy thing! As if the famous mindsHad left behind them any unused thing.On that point Chapelain rebukes him well!
ROCHEBARON.
Corneille's a peasant!
BOUCHAVANNES.
Yet, Monsieur Godeau,Bishop of Grasse, says he's a man of wit.
MONTPESAT.
Much wit!
VILLAC.
If he would write some other way—Would follow Aristotle and good style.
GASSÉ.
Come, gentlemen, make peace. One thing is sure,Corneille is now the fashion: takes the placeOf Garnier, just as in our day felt hatsHave replaced velvetmortiers.
MONTPESAT.
For CorneilleI am, and for felt hats!
GASSÉ (toMontpesat).
You are too rash![ToVillac.] Garnier is very fine. I'm neutral; butCorneille has also his good points.
VILLAC.
Agreed!
ROCHEBARON.
Agreed! He is a witty fellow andI like him!
BRICHANTEAU.
He has no nobility!
ROCHEBARON.
A name so commonplace offends the ear.
BOUCHAVANNES.
A family of petty lawyers, whoHave gnawed at ducats 'til they obtained sous.
[L'Angelyenters, seats himself at a table alone, and in silence. He is dressed in black velvet with gold trimming.
VILLAC.
Well, if the public like his rhapsodiesThe day of tragic-comedy is past.I swear to you the theater is doomed.It is because this Richelieu—
GASSÉ (looking across at L'Angely).
Say,lordship,Or else speak lower.
BRICHANTEAU.
Hell take this eminence!Is't not enough to manage everything?To rule our soldiers, finances, and us,Without controlling our poor language too?
BOUCHAVANNES.
Down with this Richelieu, who flatters, kills:Man of the red hand and the scarlet robe!
ROCHEBARON.
Of what use is the King?
BRICHANTEAU.
In darkness, we—That is the people—march: eyes on a torch.He is the torch: the King's the lantern whichIn its bright glass protects the flame from wind.
BOUCHAVANNES.
Oh, could our swords blow such a wind some dayAs to extinguish this devouring fire!
ROCHEBARON.
If every one had the same mind as I!
BRICHANTEAU.
We would unite—[ToBouchavannes.] What do you think, Viscount?
BOUCHAVANNES.
We'd give him one perfidious, useful blow!
L'ANGELY (rising, with gloomy tone).
Conspiring! Young men! Think of Marillac!
[All shudder: turn away, and are silent with terror; all fix their eyes onL'Angely, who silently resumes his seat.
VILLAC (takingMontpesataside).
My lord, when we were talking of Corneille,You spoke in tones that irritated me.In my turn I would like to say two wordsTo you—
MONTPESAT.
With sword—
VILLAC.
Yes.
MONTPESAT.
Or with pistol?
VILLAC.
Both!
MONTPESAT (taking his arm).
Let's go and find some corner in the town.
L'ANGELY (rising).
A duel, sirs? Remember Boutteville.
[New consternation among the young men.VillacandMontpesatseparate, keeping their eyes fixed onL'Angely.
ROCHEBARON.
Who is this man in black who frightens us?
L'ANGELY.
I'm L'Angely. I'm jester to the King.
BRICHANTEAU (laughing).
Then it's no wonder that the King is sad.
BOUCHAVANNES (laughing).
Great fun he makes, this rabid cardinalist!
L'ANGELY (standing).
Be careful, gentlemen! This ministerIs mighty. A great mower, he! He makesGreat seas of blood, and then he covers themWith his red cloak and nothing more is said. [Silence.
GASSÉ.
Good faith!
ROCHEBARON.
I'm blessed if I shall stir!
BRICHANTEAU.
BesideThis jester Pluto was a funny man!
[A crowd of people enter from the streets and houses, and spread over the Square. In the center appearsThe Town-Crieron horseback, with four Town-servants in livery, one of whom blows the trumpet, while the other beats the drum.
GASSÉ.
What are these people doing? Ah, the crier!Well, paternosters are in order now!
BRICHANTEAU (to a juggler with a monkey on his back, who has joined the crowd).
Which one of you shows off the other, friend?
MONTPESAT (toRochebaron).
I hope our packs of cards are still complete.[Indicating the four Servants in livery.It looks as though these knaves were stolen thence.
[Indicating the four Servants in livery.
TOWN-CRIER (in a nasal tone of voice).
Peace, citizens!
BRICHANTEAU (low toGassé).
He has a wicked look.His voice wears out his nose more than his mouth!
TOWN-CRIER.
"Ordinance: Louis, by the Grace of God—"
BOUCHAVANNES (low toBrichanteau).
Cloakfleur-de-lisconcealing Richelieu!
L'ANGELY.
Attention!
TOWN-CRIER (continuing).
"King of France and of Navarre—"
BRICHANTEAU (low toBouchavannes).
A fine name, which no minister e'er hoards.
TOWN-CRIER (continuing).
"Know all men by these presents, we greet you![He salutes assembly.Having considered that all kings desiredAnd have tried to abolish dueling,But yet, in spite of edicts signed by them,The evil has increased in great degree,We ordain and decree that from this timeAll duelists who rob us of our subjects,Whether but one of them or both survive,Be brought for punishment unto our court,And commoner or noble shall be hanged.In order to give force to this edictWe here renounce our right of pardon forThis crime. It is our gracious pleasure."—Signed,Louis; and lower—Richelieu.
[He salutes assembly.
[Indignation among the nobles.
BRICHANTEAU.
What's this?We are to hang up like Barabbas!
BOUCHAVANNES.
We?Tell me the name of any place which holdsA rope by which to hang a nobleman!
TOWN-CRIER (continuing).
"We, provost, that all men may know these facts,Command this edict to be hung up onThe Square."
[The two Servants attach a great placard to an iron gallows protruding from the wall on the right.
GASSÉ.
'Tis the edict they ought to hang!Well done!
BOUCHAVANNES (shaking his head).
Yes, Count; while waiting for the headWhich shall defy it.
[The Town-Crierexits; the crowd retires.Savernyenters. It begins to grow dark.
The same.Marquis de Saverny
BRICHANTEAU (going toSaverny).
Cousin Saverny,I hope you've found the man who rescued you.
SAVERNY.
No; I have searched the city through in vain.The robbers, the young man, and Marion—They have all faded from me like a dream.
BRICHANTEAU.
You must have seen him when he brought you back,Like a good Christian, from those infidels.
SAVERNY.
The first thing that he did was to throw downThe lamp.
GASSÉ.
That's strange!
BRICHANTEAU.
You'd recognize him ifYou met him?
SAVERNY.
No; I didn't see his face.
BRICHANTEAU.
What is his name?
SAVERNY.
Didier.
ROCHEBARON.
That's no man's name!That is a bourgeois name.
SAVERNY.
It doesn't matter.Didier is this man's name. There are great menWho have been conquerors and bear grand names,But they've no greater hearts than this man had.I had six robbers! He had Marion!He left her, and saved me. My debt's immense!This debt I mean to pay. I tell you all:I'll pay it with the last drop of my blood!
VILLAC.
Since when do you pay debts?
SAVERNY (proudly).
I've always paidThose debts which can be paid with blood.Blood is the only change I carry, sir!
[It is quite dark; the windows in the city are lighted one by one; a lamplighter enters and lights a street-lamp above the edict and goes out. The little door through whichMarionandDidierdisappeared is re-opened.Didiercomes forth dreamily, walking slowly, his arms folded.
The same.Didier
DIDIER (coming slowly from the back; no one sees or hears him).
Marquis de Saverny! I would like muchTo see that fool who looked at her so hard.I have him on my mind.
BOUCHAVANNES (toSaverny, who is talking with Brichanteau).
Saverny!
DIDIER (aside).
Ah,That is my man!
[He advances slowly, his eyes fixed on the noblemen, and sits down at a table placed under the street-lamp, which lights up the edict.L'Angely, motionless and silent, is a few steps distant.
BOUCHAVANNES (toSaverny, who turns around).
You know about the edict?
SAVERNY.
Which one?
BOUCHAVANNES.
Commanding us to give up duels.
SAVERNY.
It is most wise.
BRICHANTEAU.
Hanging's the penalty.
SAVERNY.
You must be jesting. Commoners are hanged,Not nobles.
BRICHANTEAU (showing the placard).
Read it for yourself. It's there,Upon the wall.
SAVERNY (perceivingDidier).
That sallow face can readFor me.[ToDidier, elevating his voice.Ho! man there with the cloak! My friend!Good fellow![ToBrichanteau.] Brichanteau, he must be deaf.
[ToDidier, elevating his voice.
DIDIER (slowly lifting his head, without taking his eyes from him).
You spoke to me?
SAVERNY.
I did! In fair return,Read that placard which hangs above your head.
DIDIER.
I?
SAVERNY.
You—if you can spell the alphabet.
DIDIER (rising).
It is the edict threatening duelistsWith gallows, be they nobles or plebeians.
SAVERNY.
No, you mistake, my friend. You ought to knowA nobleman was never born to hang,And in this world, where we claim all our rights,Plebeians are the gallows' only prey.[To the noblemen.These commoners are rude.[ToDidier, with malice.] You don't read well;Perhaps you are near-sighted. Lift your hat,'Twill give you more light. Take it off.
[To the noblemen.
DIDIER (overthrowing the table which is in front of him).
Beware!You have insulted me! I've read for you;I claim my recompense! I'll have it, too!I want your blood, I want your head, Marquis!
SAVERNY (smiling).
We must be fitted to our station, sir.I judge him commoner, he scents marquisIn me.
DIDIER.
Marquis and commoner can fight.What do you say to mixing up our blood?
SAVERNY.
You go too fast, and fighting is not all.I am Gaspard, Marquis de Saverny.
DIDIER.
What does that matter?
SAVERNY.
Here my seconds are!The Count de Gassé, noble family,And Count de Villac, family La Teuillade,From which house comes the Marquis d'Aubusson.Are you of noble blood?
DIDIER.
What matters that?I am a foundling left at a church door.I have no name; but in its place, I've blood,To give you in exchange for yours!
SAVERNY.
That, sir,Is not enough; but as a foundling, youMay claim the right, because you might be noble.It is a better thing to lift a vassalThan to degrade a peer. You may command me!Choose your hour, sir.
DIDIER.
Immediately!
SAVERNY.
Agreed!You're no usurper, that is clear.
DIDIER.
A sword!
SAVERNY.
You have no sword? The devil! that is bad.You might be thought a man of low descent.Will you have mine?[Offers his sword toDidier.Well tempered and obedient!
[Offers his sword toDidier.
[L'Angelyrises, draws his sword and presents it toDidier.
L'ANGLEY.
No; for a foolish deed, you'd better takeA fool's sword! You are brave! You'll honor it![Maliciously.] And in return, to bring me luck, pray letMe cut a piece from off the hanging-rope!
DIDIER (bitterly, taking sword).
I will.[ToThe Marquis.Now God have mercy on the good!
[ToThe Marquis.
BRICHANTEAU (jumping with delight).
A duel—excellent!
SAVERNY (toDidier).
Where shall we fight?
DIDIER.
Beneath the street-lamp.
GASSÉ.
Gentlemen, you're mad!You cannot see. You'll put your eyes out.
DIDIER.
Humph!There's light enough to cut each other's throat.
SAVERNY.
Well said!
VILLAC.
You can see nothing.
DIDIER.
That's enough!Each sword is lightning flashing in the dark.Come, Marquis!
[Both throw off their cloaks, take off their hats with which they salute each other, throwing them afterward on the ground. Then they draw their swords.
SAVERNY.
At your service, sir.
DIDIER.
Now!Garde!
[They cross swords and fence, silently and furiously. Suddenly the small door opens,Marionin a white dress appears.
The same.Marion
MARION.
What is this noise?[PerceivingDidierunder the lamp.Didier![To the combatants.] Stop![They continue.] Ho! The guard!
[PerceivingDidierunder the lamp.
SAVERNY.
Who is this woman?
DIDIER (turning).
Heaven!
BOUCHAVANNES (running, toSaverny).
All is lost!That woman's cry went through the town.I saw the archers' rapiers flash.
[The Archers with torches enter.
BRICHANTEAU (toSaverny).
Seem dead,Or you will be so!
SAVERNY (falling down).
Ah![Low toBrichanteau, who bends over him.Oh, damn these stones.
[Low toBrichanteau, who bends over him.
[Didier, who thinks he has killed him, pauses.
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT.
Hold! In the King's name!
BRICHANTEAU (to the noblemen).
We must save the Marquis.He's a dead man if he is caught.
[The noblemen surroundSaverny.
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT.
Zounds, sirs!To fight a duel 'neath the very lightOf the edict is bold indeed![ToDidier.] Give upYour sword.[The Archers seizeDidier, who stands apart, and disarm him.The CaptainindicatesSavernystretched upon the ground and surrounded by the noblemen.That other man with dull eyes, whoIs he? What is his name?
[The Archers seizeDidier, who stands apart, and disarm him.The CaptainindicatesSavernystretched upon the ground and surrounded by the noblemen.
BRICHANTEAU.
His name's Gaspard,Marquis de Saverny, and he is dead.
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT.
Dead, is he? Then his trouble's over. Good!This dead man's worth more than the other.
MARION (frightened).
What!
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT (toDidier).