Chapter XXXVI: Act I: Scene 9

[Laurence and Raymond, her first husband, meet by chance by the sick bed of their little boy, M. de Girieu, the second husband, who is madly jealous of Raymond, and of Laurence's love for her boy, has just refused Raymond's request to be allowed to watch by the child till he is out of danger. Resting confidently on the control over Laurence and the boy which the laws give him, M. de Girieu is sure he can keep his wife and her former husband apart.]

_Long silent scene. The door of little Julien's room opens softly.
Laurence appears with a paper in her hand. The two men separate,
watching her intently. She looks out for a long time, then shuts the
door, taking every precaution not to make a noise. After a gesture of
profound grief, she comes forward, deeply moved, but tearless. She
makes no more gestures. Her face is grave. Very simply she goes
straight to Raymond._

_Raymond._ (_Very simply to Laurence._) Well?

_Laurence._ (_In the same manner._) He has just dropped asleep.

_Ray._ The fever?

_Lau._ Constant.

_Ray._ Has the temperature been taken?

_Lau._ Yes.

_Ray._ How much?

_Lau._ Thirty-nine.

_Ray._ The cough?

_Lau._ Incessant. He breathes with difficulty.

_Ray._ His face is flushed?

_Lau._ Yes.

_Ray._ The doctor gave you a prescription?

_Lau._ I came to show it to you. I don't thoroughly understand this.

(_They are close to each other, examining the prescription which
Raymond holds._)

_Ray._ (_Reading._) "Keep an even temperature in the sick room."

_Lau._ Yes.

_Ray._ "Wrap the limbs in cotton wool, and cover that with oiled
silk." I am going to do that myself as soon as he wakes. Tell them to
warn me.

_Lau._ What ought he to have to drink? I forgot to ask that, and he is
thirsty.

_Ray._ Mallow.

_Lau._ I'm sure he doesn't like it.

_Ray._ Yes, yes. You remember when he had the measles.

_Lau._ Yes, yes. How anxious we were then, too!

_Ray._ He drank it willingly. You remember perfectly?

_Lau._ Yes, of course I remember. Some mallow then. Let us read the
prescription again. I haven't forgotten anything? Mustard plasters.
The cotton wool, you will attend to that. And I will go have the drink
made. "In addition--every hour--a coffee-spoonful of the following
medicine."

(_The curtain falls slowly as she continues to read. M. de Girieu has
gone out slowly during the last words._)[54]

Finally, contrast the treatment by John Webster and Robert Browning of the same dramatic situation. Which is the clearer, which depends more on illustrative action?

_Enter Antonio_

_Duchess._ I sent for you; sit downe:
Take pen and incke, and write: are you ready?

_Antonio._ Yes.

_Duch._ What did I say?

_Ant._ That I should write some-what.

_Duch._ Oh, I remember:
After this triumph and this large expence,
It's fit (like thrifty husbands) we enquire,
What's laid up for tomorrow.

_Ant._ So please your beauteous excellence.

_Duch._ Beauteous?
Indeed I thank you: I look yong for your sake.
You have tane my cares upon you.

_Ant._ I'le fetch your grace
The particulars of your revinew and expence.

_Duch._ Oh, you are an upright treasurer: but you mistooke,
For when I said I meant to make enquiry
What's layd up for tomorrow, I did meane
What's layd up yonder for me.

_Ant._ Where?

_Duch._ In heaven.
I am making my will (as 'tis fit princes should
In perfect memory), and I pray sir, tell me
Were not one better make it smiling, thus,
Then in deepe groanes, and terrible ghastly lookes,
As if the guifts we parted with procur'd
That violent distraction?

_Ant._ Oh, much better.

_Duch._ If I had a husband now, this care were quit:
But I intend to make you over-seer.
What good deede shall we first remember? say.

_Ant._ Begin with that first good deede began i' th' world,
After man's creation, the sacrament of marriage.
I'ld have you first provide for a good husband:
Give him all.

_Duch._ All?

_Ant._ Yes, your excellent selfe.

_Duch._ In a winding sheete?

_Ant._ In a cople.

_Duch._ St. Winifrid, that were a strange will!

_Ant._ 'Twere strange if there were no will in you
To marry againe.

_Duch._ What doe you thinke of marriage?

_Ant._ I take't, as those that deny purgatory,
It locally containes or heaven or hell;
There's no third place in't.

_Duch._ How doe you affect it?

_Ant._ My banishment, feeding my mellancholly,
Would often reason thus--

_Duch._ Pray let's heare it.

_Ant._ Say a man never marry, nor have children,
What takes that from him? onely the bare name
Of being a father, or the weake delight
To see the little wanton ride a cock-horse
Upon a painted sticke, or heare him chatter
Like a taught starling.

_Duch._ Fye, fie, what's all this?
One of your eyes is blood-shot; use my ring to't.
They say 'tis very soveraigne; 'twas my wedding-ring,
And I did vow never to part with it,
But to my second husband.

_Ant._ You have parted with it now.

_Duch._ Yes, to helpe your eye-sight.

_Ant._ You have made me starke blind.

_Duch._ How?

_Ant._ There is a sawcy and ambitious divell
Is dauncing in this circle.

_Duch._ Remoove him.

_Ant._ How?

_Duch._ There needs small conjuration, when your finger
May doe it: thus, is it fit?

_Ant._ What sayd you? (_He kneeles._)

_Duch._ Sir,
This goodly roofe of yours is too low built;
I cannot stand upright in't, nor discourse,
Without I raise it higher: raise yourselfe,
Or if you please, my hand to help you: so.

_Ant._ Ambition, madam, is a great man's madnes,
That is not kept in chaines and close-pentoomes,
But in fair lightsome lodgings, and is girt
With the wild noyce of pratling visitants,
Which makes it lunatique, beyond all cure.
Conceive not I am so stupid but I ayme
Whereto your favours tend: but he's a foole
That (being a cold) would thrust his hands i' th' fire
To warme them.

_Duch._ So, now the ground's broake,
You may discover what a wealthy mine
I make you lord of.

_Ant._ Oh my unworthiness!

_Duch._ You were ill to sell your selfe:
This darkning of your worth is not like that
Which trades-men use i' th' city; their false lightes
Are to rid bad wares off: and I must tell you,
If you will know where breathes a compleat man
(I speake it without flattery), turne your eyes,
And progresse through your selfe.

_Ant._ Were there nor heaven, nor hell,
I should be honest: I have long serv'd vertue,
And nev'r tane wages of her.

_Duch._ Now she paies it.
The misery of us that are borne great,
We are forc'd to woe, because none dare woe us:
And as a tyrant doubles with his words,
And fearefully equivocates, so we
Are forc'd to expresse our violent passions
In ridles and in dreames, and leave the path
Of simple vertue, which was never made
To seeme the thing it is not. Goe, go brag
You have left me heartlesse; mine is in your bosom:
I hope 'twill multiply love there. You doe tremble:
Make not your heart so dead a peece of flesh,
To feare, more then to love me. Sir, be confident,
What is't distracts you? This is flesh and blood, sir;
'Tis not the figure cut in allablaster
Kneeles at my husbands tombe. Awake, awake, man,
I do here put off all vaine ceremony,
And onely doe appeare to you a yong widow
That claimes you for her husband, and like a widow,
I use but halfe a blush in't.

_Ant._ Truth speake for me,
I will remaine the constant sanctuary
Of your good name.[55]

This is Browning's version:

_Duchess._ Say what you did through her, and she through you--
The praises of her beauty afterward!
Will you?

_Valence._ I dare not.

_Duch._ Dare not?

_Val._ She I love
Suspects not such a love in me.

_Duch._ You jest.

_Val._ The lady is above me and away.
Not only the brave form, and the bright mind,
And the great heart combine to press me low--
But all the world calls rank divides us.

_Duch._ Rank!
Now grant me patience! Here's a man declares
Oracularly in another's case--
Sees the true value and the false, for them--
Nay, bids them see it, and they straight do see.
You called my court's love worthless--so it turned:
I threw away as dross my heap of wealth,
And here you stickle for a piece or two!
First--has she seen you?

_Val._ Yes.

_Duch._ She loves you, then.

_Val._ One flash of hope burst; then succeeded night:
And all's at darkest now. Impossible!

_Duch._ We'll try: you are--so to speak--my subject yet?

_Val._ As ever--to the death.

_Duch._ Obey me, then!

_Val._ I must.

_Duch._ Approach her, and ... no! first of all
Get more assurance. "My instructress," say,
"Was great, descended from a line of kings,
"And even fair"--(wait why I say this folly)--
"She said, of all men, none for eloquence,
"Courage, and (what cast even these to shade)
"The heart they sprung from,--none deserved like him
"Who saved her at her need: if she said this,
"Why should not one I love, say?"

_Val._ Heaven--this hope--
Oh, lady, you are filling me with fire!

_Duch._ Say this!--nor think I bid you cast aside
One touch of all the awe and reverence;
Nay, make her proud for once to heart's content
That all this wealth of heart and soul's her own!
Think you are all of this,--and, thinking it,
... (Obey!)

_Val._ I cannot choose.

_Duch._ Then, kneel to her!
(_Valence sinks on his knee._)
I dream!

_Val._ Have mercy! yours, unto the death,--
I have obeyed. Despise, and let me die!

_Duch._ Alas, sir, is it to be ever thus?
Even with you as with the world? I know
This morning's service was no vulgar deed
Whose motive, once it dares avow itself,
Explains all done and infinitely more,
So, takes the shelter of a nobler cause.
Your service names its true source,--loyalty!
The rest's unsaid again. The Duchess bids you,
Rise, sir! The Prince's words were in debate.

_Val._ (_Rising._) Rise? Truth, as ever, lady, comes from you!
I should rise--I who spoke for Cleves, can speak
For Man--yet tremble now, who stood firm then.
I laughed--for 'twas past tears--that Cleves should starve
With all hearts beating loud the infamy,
And no tongue daring trust as much to air:
Yet here, where all hearts speak, shall I be mute?
Oh, lady, for your sake look on me!
On all I am, and have, and do--heart, brain,
Body and soul,--this Valence and his gifts!
I was proud once: I saw you, and then sank,
So that each, magnified a thousand times,
Were nothing to you--but such nothingness,
Would a crown gild it, or a sceptre prop,
A treasure speed, a laurel-wreath enhance?
What is my own desert? But should your love
Have ... there's no language helps here ... singled me,--
Then--oh, that wild word "then!"--be just to love,
In generosity its attribute!
Love, since you pleased to love! All's cleared--a stage
For trial of the question kept so long:
Judge you--Is love or vanity the best?
You, solve it for the world's sake--you, speak first
What all will shout one day--you, vindicate
Our earth and be its angel! All is said.
Lady, I offer nothing--I am yours:
But, for the cause' sake, look on me and him,
And speak!

_Duch._ I have received the Prince's message:
Say, I prepare my answer!

_Val._ Take me, Cleves! (_He withdraws._)[56]

The formula for the would-be dramatist so far as his people are concerned is this: A play which aims to be real in depicting life must illustrate character by characterization which is in character.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] For all of these except _Hyckescorner_ see _Specimens of
Pre-Shakespearean Drama_. J. M. Manly. 2 vols. Ginn & Co., Boston.
For _Hyckescorner_ see _The Origin of the English Drama_, Vol. I. T.
Hawkins, ed. Clarendon Press, Oxford.

[2] _Induction, Every Man in His Humour._ Mermaid Series or
Everyman's Library.

[3] See _Two Loves and a Life_, _The Ticket of Leave Man_, _The Lady
of Lyons_. All published by Samuel French, New York.

[4] Belles-Lettres Series. F. E. Schelling, ed. D. C. Heath & Co.;
Mermaid Series, vol. III, or Everyman's Library.

[5] Mermaid Series, vol. II. Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York.

[6] _Play-Making_, pp. 376, 378. Small, Maynard & Co., Boston.

[7] _Plays_. Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York.

[8] Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston; W. Heinemann, London.

[9] _Some Platitudes Concerning Drama_, _Atlantic Monthly_, December,
1909.

[10] _The Devonshire Hamlets_, Act I, pp. 9-10.

[11] _Dramatic Essays._ William Hazlitt.

[12] _The Stage in America_, pp. 81-82. N. Hapgood. The Macmillan Co.

[13] _Some Platitudes Concerning Drama_, _Atlantic Monthly_,
December, 1909.

[14] See the quotation from Stevenson, p. 243, as to _Weir of
Hermiston._

[15] _Hamburg Dramaturgy_, p. 324. Lessing. Bohn ed.

[16] Belle-Lettres Series. A. H. Thorndike, ed. D. C. Heath & Co.,
Boston and New York.

[17] Mermaid Series for both plays. Chas. Scribner's Sons, New York.

[18] _A New Rehearsal, or Bays the Younger._ Charles Gildon. 1714-15.

[19] _At the New Theatre_, pp. 189-192. W. P. Eaton. Small, Maynard &
Co., Boston.

[20] _Idem_, pp. 47-48.

[21] _Hamburg Dramaturgy_, p. 238. Bohn ed.

[22] Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston; W. Heinemann, London.

[23] P. V. Stock, Paris. Published in translation by J. W. Luce &
Co., Boston.

[24] Walter E. Baker & Co., Boston; W. Heinemann, London.

[25] _Letters of Henrik Ibsen_, p. 437.

[26] _Au Public, La Princesse Georges._ Calmann Levy, Paris.

[27] _Oeuvres_, vol. VII, p. 320. Garnier Freres, Paris.

[28] _The Theatrical World for 1893_, pp. 46-47. W. Archer. Walter
Scott, Ltd., London.

[29] The Macmillan Co., New York.

[30] P. V. Stock, Paris.

[31] _Selected Dramas of John Dryden_, p. 230. Preface, _All for
Love_. G. R. Noyes, ed. Scott, Foresman & Co., New York.

[32] _Theatre_, vol. II. Michel Levy Freres, Paris.

[33] Walter H. Baker & Co., Boston.

[34] The Macmillan Co., New York. Act III.

[35] Belles-Lettres Series, p. 373. M.W. Sampson, ed. D.C. Heath &
Co., Boston.

[36] _Shakespeare's Library_, vol. v, pp. 267-271. W. C. Hazlitt, ed.

[37] _Squire of Alsatia_ Mermaid Series. G. Saintsbury, ed. Chas.
Scribner's Sons, New York.

[38] Mitchell Kennerley, New York.

[39] For illustration of good work, see pp. 25-26, 36, 49, 162, 174,
181, 190.

[40] See for discussion of these, pp. 382-96.

[41] _Tartuffe_, Act I. _Chief European Dramatists._ Brander
Matthews, ed. Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston.

[42] Act III, Scene 2. Belles-Lettres Series. A. H. Thorndike, ed. D.
C. Heath & Co.

[43] Act I. Tr. Gilbert Murray. Geo. Allen & Sons, London.

[44] The Macmillan Co., N.Y.

[45] Mermaid Series. Vol. I, Act. I, Scene 1. Chas. Scribner's Sons,
New York.

[46] _Vittoria Corambona_, Act III, Sc. 2. Webster. Belles-Lettres
Series. M. W. Sampson, ed. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston and New York.

[47] See pp. 154-161.

[48] _Chief European Dramatists._ Brander Matthews, ed. Houghton
Mifflin Co., Boston.

[49] Act I, Scene 1. Mermaid Series, vol. III, of Everyman's Library.

[50] _Hamburg Dramaturgy_, pp. 367-368. Bohn ed.

[51] Samuel French, New York; W. Heinemann, London.

[52] _Plays._ Vol. I. J. Tonson, London, 1730.

[53] _Plays Pleasant and Unpleasant._ Brentano, New York.

[54] P. V. Stock, Paris.

[55] _The Duchess of Malfi_, Act I, Sc. 2. Webster. Belles-Lettres
Series. M. W. Sampson, ed. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston and New York.

[56] _Colombe's Birthday_, Act IV Scene 1. Robert Browning.
Belles-Lettres Series A. Bates, ed. D. C. Heath & Co., Boston and New
York.