Chapter IV: Part II (1)

Scene.--_A hall or room into which lead two staircases, one ascending and the other descending. The entrance to each of these staircases fills a portion of the back of the stage. The one which ascends ends at the frieze; the one which descends ends underneath--neither the beginning nor the end is visible_

_The room is draped with black in a peculiar fashion. The wall on the right, the wall on the left, and the ceiling are covered with a black cloth on which is a large white cross; the background, which faces the spectator, with a white cloth and large black cross. These black and white draperies continue until they are lost to sight under the staircases. To the right and to the left, there is an altar draped with black and white, decorated as if for a funeral. Tall candles. No priests. A few funeral lamps, hanging here and there from the vaulted roof, light the room and the staircases feebly. What really lights the room is the great white cloth in the background, through which a reddish light shines as if there were a fiery furnace behind. The room is paved with tombstones. As the curtain rises, the motionless figure of The Queen is seen in black outline on this transparent cloth_

Scene I

_Jane, Joshua. They enter cautiously through a little door behind the black draperies, which they push aside_

JANE.

Where are we, Joshua?

JOSHUA.

On the great landing of the staircase down which the criminals go to execution. It was draped in this way under Henry VIII.

JANE.

No way of getting out of the Tower?

JOSHUA.

The people are on guard at every exit. They want to be sure of getting their criminal this time. No one can go out before the execution.

JANE.

The proclamation they made from the balcony rings in my ears yet. This is a horrible thing, Joshua.

JOSHUA.

Oh, I've seen many such!

JANE.

If only Gilbert has been able to escape. Do you think he is safe, Joshua?

JOSHUA.

I am sure of it.

JANE.

You are sure of it, good Joshua?

JOSHUA.

The Tower wasn't surrounded on the waterside. Then, when he started, the riot wasn't as bad as it was afterward. It was a fine riot, if you but knew it.

JANE.

You are sure that he is safe?

JOSHUA.

And waiting for you under the first arch of London Bridge, where you will meet him before midnight.

JANE.

Heaven! He will be anxious too.

[_Seeing the shadow of The Queen._

My God! what is that, Joshua?

JOSHUA (_low, taking her hand_).

Silence! It is the lioness, on the watch.

[_While Jane looks at this figure in horror, a distant voice, which seems to come from above, pronounces these words slowly and distinctly._

VOICE.

The man, covered with a black veil, who follows me, is the very high and mighty Lord Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of Clanbrassil, Baron of Dinasmonddy, Baron of Darmouth in Devonshire, who is to be beheaded at the London Market-Place, for the crimes of regicide and high treason. God have mercy on his soul!

ANOTHER VOICE.

Pray for him!

JANE (_trembling_).

Joshua, do you hear?

JOSHUA.

Yes, I hear such things every day.

[_A funeral procession appears at the head of the staircase, and gradually forms itself on the steps as it descends. A man dressed in black is at the head, bearing a white banner with black cross. Next comes Master Eneas Dulverton, wearing a great black cloak, holding his Constable's baton in his hand. Then a group of halberdiers, dressed in red; then a man in white, bearing black banner with white cross. To the right and to the left, halberdiers bearing torches._

JANE.

Do you see?

JOSHUA.

Yes, I see such things every day.

[_As they are about to reach the stage the procession stops._

MASTER ENEAS.

The man, covered with a black veil, who follows me, is the very high and mighty Lord Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of Clanbrassil, Baron of Dinasmonddy, Baron of Darmouth in Devonshire, who is to be beheaded at the London Market-Place, for the crimes of regicide and high treason. God have mercy on his soul!

THE TWO STANDARD-BEARERS.

Pray for him!

[_The procession slowly crosses the back of the stage._

JANE.

This is a terrible thing we are looking at, Joshua. It freezes my blood.

JOSHUA.

That abominable Fabiani!

JANE.

Peace, Joshua! Very abominable, but very unfortunate.

[_The procession reaches the other staircase: Simon Renard, who appeared at the entrance of this staircase, some moments before, and has observed everything, moves aside to let them pass. The procession goes under the arch of the staircase, and gradually disappears. Jane, terrified, follows it with her eyes._

SIMON RENARD (_after the procession has disappeared_).

What does this mean? Is that really Fabiani? I thought him not so tall. Has Master Eneas?--It seems to me the Queen kept him near her for a moment. Let us see!

[_He disappears under the staircase, following the procession._

VOICE (_which grows fainter and fainter_).

The man, covered with a black veil, who follows me, is the very high and mighty Lord Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of Clanbrassil, Baron of Dinasmonddy, Baron of Darmouth in Devonshire, who is to be beheaded at the London Market-Place, for the crimes of regicide and high treason.

OTHER VOICES (_almost indistinct_).

Pray for him!

JOSHUA.

The great bell will announce his exit from the Tower, presently. Perhaps you can make your escape now: I must try to find a way. Wait for me here: I will come back.

JANE.

Are you going to leave me, Joshua? I will be afraid here, all alone.

JOSHUA.

It will be dangerous for you to wander over the Tower with me. I must get you away from here. Remember Gilbert is waiting for you.

JANE.

Gilbert? Everything for Gilbert. Go!

[_Joshua goes out._

Oh, what a terrible sight!--when I think that it might have been like this for Gilbert.

[_She kneels on one of the altar steps._

Oh, thank you! You are indeed God the Saviour. You have saved Gilbert.

[_The cloth at the back opens. The Queen appears: she comes slowly to the front of the stage, without seeing Jane, who turns around._

The Queen! My God!

SCENE II

_Jane, The Queen. Jane clings to the altar, with horror, and fixes a look of stupor and terror on The Queen's face_

THE QUEEN (_she stands a few seconds at the front of the stage, her glance fixed, pale, as if absorbed in gloomy thoughts. At last she sighs profoundly_).

Oh, the people!

[_She looks around with anxiety and sees Jane._

Some one is here. Oh, it is you, young woman! It is you, Lady Jane. I frighten you. Don't be afraid. You know the turnkey Eneas betrayed us. Don't be afraid. I have already told you, child, you have nothing to fear from me. What was your ruin a month ago is your salvation to-day. You love Fabiano. There are only you and I in the whole world to-day who have a heart like that. Only you and I love him. We are sisters.

JANE.

Madame--

THE QUEEN.

Yes, you and I--two women, we are all he has! Every one else is against him; a whole city, a whole nation, a whole world. Unequal struggle of love against hate. Love for Fabiano is a sad thing, a fatal, a horror-stricken thing: it has a pallid brow like yours, tear-filled eyes like mine; it hides itself close to a funereal altar; it entreats with your lips, it curses with mine. But hate for Fabiano is a proud thing, radiant, triumphant: it is well-armed and victorious; it has the Court, the people, the crowded streets; it munches cries of death and cries of joy at the same time; it is magnificent, haughty, powerful; it illuminates a whole city surrounding a scaffold. Love, here it is--two women weeping in a tomb! Hate, there it is!

[_She pulls the white cloth violently aside, which reveals a balcony, and beyond the balcony, almost out of sight, the whole city of London, brilliantly illuminated. What is visible of the Tower of London is also illuminated. Jane fixes her amazed eyes on this startling scene, the reflection of which lights up the theater._

THE QUEEN.

Oh, infamous city; rebellious city; accursed city; monstrous city--who soaks her holiday dress in blood, and who holds the torch for the executioner! You are afraid of it, aren't you, Jane? Doesn't it seem to you, as it does to me, that it cowardly defies us both; that it is watching us with its hundred thousand flaming eyes--us, feeble, forsaken women that we are, alone and lost in this sepulcher? Jane, do you hear it howl and laugh--that horrible city? Oh, England, all England to him who will destroy London! Would that I could change those torches into fiery brands, those lights into flames, and that illuminated city into a city of _fire_!

[_A tremendous outburst from the people outside--applause, confused cries, "There he is! There he is! Death to Fabiani--" The great bell of the Tower begins to toll. At this sound, The Queen breaks into a terrible peal of laughter._

JANE.

God! The unfortunate man is leaving the Tower!--You laugh, madame!

THE QUEEN.

Yes, I laugh! [_She laughs._] Yes, and you will laugh, too. Let me drop those hangings first. It seems to me all the time as if we were not alone, as if that frightful city could see and hear us.

[_She drops the white curtain and comes back to Jane._

Now that he is gone, now that there is no more danger, I can tell you about it. Laugh, laugh, let us both laugh at those execrable people who drink blood! Oh, it is grand, Jane! Jane, you tremble for Fabiano? Be at ease, laugh with me, I tell you. Jane, the man they've got, the man who is going to die, the man they think is Fabiano--is not Fabiano.

[_She laughs._]

JANE.

Not Fabiano?

THE QUEEN.

No!

JANE.

Then who is it?

THE QUEEN.

The other!

JANE.

What other?

THE QUEEN.

You know well enough! You know him--that workman--that man. Besides, what does it matter?

JANE (_trembling with terror_).

Gilbert?

THE QUEEN.

Yes, Gilbert! That is the name.

JANE.

Madame! Oh, no, madame! Don't say that, madame! Gilbert--it would be too horrible! He has escaped!

THE QUEEN.

He was escaping when they seized him. They put him under the black veil in Fabiano's place. It is night. The people won't know. Rest easy.

JANE (_with a frightful cry_).

Ah, madame! But the man I love--it is Gilbert!

THE QUEEN.

What? What do you say? Are you going crazy? Did you deceive me, too? Ah, it is Gilbert whom you love! Well, what does that matter to me?

JANE (_at The Queen's feet, broken-hearted, sobbing, dragging herself on her knees, her hands clasped: the great bell tolls through all this scene_).

Madame--just for pity! Madame, in the name of Heaven! Madame, by your crown, by your mother, by the angels! Gilbert, Gilbert--it will make me mad! Madame, save Gilbert! That man, he is my life; that man, he is my husband; that man-- I have told you that he did everything for me, that he brought me up, that he adopted me, that beside my cradle he took the place of my father, who died for your father. Madame, you see that I am a poor, wretched creature, and it isn't right to be too hard on me. What you said to me just now struck such a terrible blow that I don't truly see how it is I have strength to speak to you. I am just saying what I can, you see. But you must stop the execution--right away! Stop the execution! Put it off until to-morrow. Just time to have things understood, that is all. The people can wait until to-morrow, I know. We will see what we can do. No! don't shake your head! There is no danger for your Fabiano. You can put me in his place--under the black veil--at night. Who will know? But you must save Gilbert. What difference does it make whether it be he or I? And since--since I want to die! Oh, my God, that bell, that frightful bell! Every knell of that bell is a step toward the scaffold. Every knell of that bell strikes me full in the heart. Do it, madame. Be merciful! No danger for your Fabiano! Let me kiss your hands. I love you, madame. I never said it before--but I love you dearly. You are a great queen. See, how I kiss your beautiful hands! Give an order to stop the execution. There is time yet. I am sure we can do it. They go so slowly. It is a long way from the Tower to the old Market-Place. The man on the balcony said they would pass through Charing Cross. There is a quicker way. A man on horseback could get there. In Heaven's name, madame, be merciful! Try to put yourself in my place. Imagine that I am Queen and you the poor young woman; and you would weep as I do, and I would pardon. Pardon! Pardon! Oh, that is what I was afraid of, that my tears would hinder me from speaking! Oh, right away!--stop the execution! There won't be any trouble, madame; no danger for Fabiano, I swear it to you. Don't you really think you ought to do what I say, madame?

THE QUEEN (_touched and lifting her up_).

I wish I could, poor girl. Ah, yes, you are weeping as I wept; what you feel I have just felt myself, and my anguish makes me understand yours. Look! I am weeping too. It is very sad, my poor child. It seems to me, too, they might have taken somebody else--Tyrconnel, for instance. But he is too well known: they had to have some obscure man. He was the only one they could get hold of. I explain all this so that you can understand, don't you see? My God, there are fatalities like that: we get caught. We can't do anything.

JANE.

I am listening to you, madame. I am like you. I have got many things to say. But I would like to have the order to suspend the execution signed, and the man sent off. You see it would be finished then. We could talk better afterward. Oh, that bell! forever, that bell!

THE QUEEN.

What you want is impossible, Lady Jane.

JANE.

Oh, no, it is possible!--a man on horseback. There is a very short way--by the wharf. I can go--I-- It is quite possible! It is easy! You see I talk very quietly.

THE QUEEN.

But the people won't have it. They will come back here and massacre everybody in the Tower. And Fabiano is here yet. Can't you understand? You are trembling, poor child. I am like you--I tremble also. In your turn, put yourself in my place. I might easily not take the trouble to explain all this to you. You see I do what I can. Don't think about this Gilbert any more. Jane, it is over-- Resign yourself.

JANE.

Over! No, it is not over! No--as long as that horrible bell tolls, it is not over! Resign myself to Gilbert's death? Do you think I am going to let Gilbert die like that? No, madame! Ah, I am wasting my time! Ah, you won't listen to me! Very well, if the Queen won't hear me, the people will. They are good, the people--if you but knew it! They are in the court yet. You can do what you like with me afterward. I am going to tell them they are cheated; and that it is not Fabiani, it's a poor workman, named Gilbert--a workman like themselves!

THE QUEEN.

Stop, you wretched child!

[_She seizes her arm and looks at her fixedly and resentfully._

This is the way you thank me, is it? I am patient and gentle with you, I weep with you--and all at once, you get wild and furious! Well, my love is just as great as yours, and my hand is more powerful! You shall not stir! Your lover!--what do I care for your lover? Are all the girls in England coming to ask me about their lovers, now? By my soul, I save my own as well as I can, and at the cost of everything which stands in his way. You must look after yours.

JANE.

Let me go! Oh, I curse you, you wretched, wicked woman!

THE QUEEN.

Hush!

JANE.

I will not hush! Do you want me to tell you what I'm thinking of now? I don't believe the man who is going to die out there is my Gilbert.

THE QUEEN.

What are you saying?

JANE.

I don't know, but I saw him pass by under that black veil; and if it had been my Gilbert, something would have stirred in me, something would have roused itself in my heart, and would have cried out to me, "Gilbert--it is Gilbert." But I felt nothing at all; it is not Gilbert.

THE QUEEN.

What are you saying? Ah, my God! you are crazy. What you have said is idiotic, but it terrifies me just the same. Ah, you have roused one of the secret terrors of my own heart! Why did that riot prevent me from looking after him myself? Why did I intrust to any one but myself the safety of my Fabiano? Eneas Dulverton is a traitor. Perhaps Simon Renard was there. What if I have been betrayed a second time by Fabiano's enemies? What if it is Fabiano himself? What, ho! quick--some one--come--some one!

[_Two Jailers appear._

[_To the first._] You--run! Here is my royal signet. Tell them to suspend the execution. To the old Market-Place; to the old Market-Place! There is a shorter way, you said, Jane.

JANE.

By the wharf.

THE QUEEN (_to Jailer_).

By the wharf. A horse--go quick!

[_The Jailer goes out._

[_To the second Jailer._] You--go at once to Edward the Confessor's Tower. The two cells of the condemned criminals are there. There is a man in one of them. Bring him here at once.

[_The Jailer goes out._

I tremble; my knees sink under me; I have not strength enough to go myself. Ah, you have made me as mad as yourself! Miserable girl, you have made me as wretched as yourself. I curse you as you cursed me. My God, will the man get there in time? What a torturing anxiety! I can't see anything more. All is trouble in my soul. Does the bell toll yet? Is it for Gilbert? Is it for Fabiano?

JANE.

The bell ceases.

THE QUEEN.

Then the procession is on the place for the execution. Will the man get there in time?

[_A cannon-shot is heard._

JANE.

Heaven!

THE QUEEN.

He is ascending the scaffold! [_Second cannon._ He is kneeling!

JANE.

It is horrible! [_Third cannon._

BOTH.

Ah!

THE QUEEN.

There is only one alive now. In a moment we will know which one. My God, let the man who comes in be Fabiano!

JANE.

My God, let it be Gilbert!

[_The curtain at the back opens. Simon Renard appears, holding Gilbert by the hand._

Gilbert! [_They rush into each other's arms._

THE QUEEN.

And Fabiano?

SIMON RENARD.

Dead.

THE QUEEN.

Dead! Dead! Who has dared--

SIMON RENARD.

I have dared. I have saved the Queen of England.

MARION DE LORME

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

Marion de Lorme.
Didier.
Louis XIII.
Marquis de Saverny.
Marquis de Nangis.
L'Angely.
M. de Laffemas.
Duke de Bellegarde.
Marquis de Brichanteau, }
Count de Gassé, } _Officers_
Viscount de Bouchavannes, } _of the_
Chevalier de Rochebaron, } _Regiment of_
Count de Villac, } _Anjou._
Chevalier de Montpesat, }
Duke de Beaupréau.
Viscount de Rohan.
Abbé de Gondi.
Count de Charnacé.
Scaramouche, }
Gracieux, } _Provincial comedians._
Taillebras, }
Councilor of the Great Chamber.
Town Crier.
Captain.
A Jailer.
A Registrar.
The Executioner.
First Workman.
Second Workman.
Third Workman.
A Lackey.
Dame Rose.
_Provincial Comedians, Guards, Populace, Nobles, Pages._

1638.

MARION DE LORME

_ACT I_

THE MEETING

Scene.--_Blois. A bed-chamber. A window opening on a balcony at the back. To the right, a table with a lamp, and an armchair. To the left a door, covered by a portière of tapestry. In the background a bed_

SCENE I

_Marion de Lorme, in a very elegant wrapper, sitting beside the table, embroidering. Marquis de Saverny, very young man, blonde, without mustache, dressed in the latest fashion of 1638_

SAVERNY (_approaching Marion and trying to embrace her_).

Let us be reconciled, my sweet Marie!

MARION (_pushing him away_).

Not such close reconciliation, please!

SAVERNY (_insisting_).

Just one kiss!

MARION (_angrily_).

Marquis!

SAVERNY.

What a rage! Your mouth
Had sweeter manners, not so long ago!

MARION.

Ah, you forget!

SAVERNY.

No, I remember, dear.

MARION (_aside_).

The bore! the tiresome creature!

SAVERNY.

Speak, fair one! What does this swift, unkind departure mean? While all are seeking you at Place Royale, Why do you hide yourself at Blois? Traitress, What have you done here all these two long months?

MARION.

I do what pleases me, and what I wish Is right. I'm free, my lord!

SAVERNY.

Free! Yes. But those Whose hearts you've stolen, are they also free? I? Gondi, who omitted half his Mass The other day, because he had a duel Upon his hands for you? Nesmond, D'Arquien, The two Caussades, Pressigny, whom your flight Has left so wretched, so morose, even Their wives wish you were back in Paris, that They might have gayer husbands!

MARION (_smiling_).

Beauvillain?

SAVERNY.

Is still in love.

MARION.

Cereste?

SAVERNY.

Adores you yet.

MARION.

And Pons?

SAVERNY.

Oh, as for him, he hates you!

MARION.

Proof He is the only one who loves me! Well, The President? [_Laughing._] The old man! What's his name? [_Laughing more heartily._ Leloup!

SAVERNY.

He's waiting for you, and meanwhile
He keeps your portrait and sings odes to it.

MARION.

He's loved me two years now, in effigy.

SAVERNY.

He'd much prefer to burn you. Tell me how You keep away from such dear friends.

MARION (_serious, and lowering her eyes_).

That's just The reason, Marquis; to be frank with you, Those brilliant follies which seduced my youth Have given me much more misery than joy. In a retreat, a convent cell, perhaps, I want to try to expiate my life.

SAVERNY.

I'll wager there's a love-tale behind that.

MARION.

You dare to think--

SAVERNY.

That never a nun's veil Surmounted eyes so full of earthly fire. It could not be. You love some poor provincial! For shame! To end a fine romance with such A page!

MARION.

It isn't true!

SAVERNY.

Let's make a wager!

MARION.

Dame Rose, what time is it?

DAME ROSE (_outside_).

Almost midnight!

MARION (_aside_).

Midnight!

SAVERNY.

That is a most ingenious way
Of saying, "Time to go."

MARION.

I live retired, Receiving no one, and unknown to all. Besides, 'tis dangerous to be out late: The street is lonely, full of robbers.

SAVERNY.

Well,
They can rob me.

MARION.

And oftentimes they kill!

SAVERNY.

Good! they can kill me.

MARION.

But--

SAVERNY.

You are divine! But I'll not stir one foot before I know Who this gay shepherd is, who's routed us!

MARION.

There's no one!

SAVERNY.

I will be discreet. We courtiers, Whom people think so mad, so curious And spiteful, are maligned. We gossip, but We never talk! You're silent? [_Sits down._] Then I'll stay!

MARION.

What does it matter? Well, it's true! I love! I'm waiting for him!

SAVERNY.

That's the way to talk!
That's right! Where is it you expect him?

MARION.

Here!

SAVERNY.

When?

MARION.

Now! [_She goes to the balcony and listens._
Hark! that is he perhaps.
[_Coming back._] 'Tis not.
Now are you satisfied?

SAVERNY.

Not quite!

MARION.

Please go!

SAVERNY.

I want to know his name, this proud gallant, For whose reception I am thus dismissed.

MARION.

Didier is all the name I know for him. Marie is all the name he knows for me.

SAVERNY (_laughing_).

Is't true?

MARION.

Yes, true!

SAVERNY.

This is a pastoral, And no mistake. 'Tis Racan, pure! To enter, I have no doubt he scales the wall.

MARION.

Perhaps.
Please go! [_Aside._] He wearies me to death!

SAVERNY (_becoming serious_).

Of course
He's noble.

MARION.

I don't know.

SAVERNY.

What?

[_To Marion, who is gently pushing him toward the door._

I am going! [_Coming back._
Just one word more! I had forgotten. Look!

[_He draws a book out of his pocket and gives it to Marion._

An author who is not a fool, did this. It's making a great stir.

MARION (_reading the title_).

"Love's Garland"--ah!
"To Marion de Lorme."

SAVERNY.

They talk of nothing But this in Paris. That book and "The Cid" Are the successful efforts of the day.

MARION (_taking the book_).

It's very civil of you; now, good-night!

SAVERNY.

What is the use of fame? Alack-a-day! To come to Blois and love a rustic! Bah!

MARION (_calling to Dame Rose_).

Take care of the Marquis, and show him out!

SAVERNY (_saluting her_).

Ah, Marion, you've degenerated! [_He goes out._

SCENE II

_Marion, afterward Didier_

MARION (_alone, shuts the door by which Saverny went out_).

Go--
Go quickly! Oh, I feared lest Didier--
[_Midnight strikes._
Hark!
It's striking midnight! Didier should be here!

[_She goes to the balcony and looks into the street._

No one!

[_She comes back and sits down impatiently._

Late! To be late--so soon!

[_A young man appears behind the balustrade of the balcony, jumps over it lightly, enters, places his cloak and sword on the armchair. Costume of the day: all black: boots. He takes one step forward, pauses_ _and contemplates Marion, sitting with her eyes cast down._

At last!
[_Reproachfully._
To let me count the hour alone!

DIDIER (_seriously_).

I feared
To enter!

MARION (_hurt_).

Ah!

DIDIER (_without noticing it_).

Down there, outside the wall, I was o'ercome with pity. Pity? yes, For you! I, poor, accursed, unfortunate, Stood there a long time thinking, ere I came! "Up there an angel waits," I thought, "in virgin grace, Untouched by sin--a being chaste and fair, To whose sweet face shining on life's pathway Each passer-by should bend his knees and pray. I, who am but a vagrant 'mongst the crowd, Why should I seek to stir that placid stream? Why should I pluck that lily? With the breath Of human passion, why should I consent To cloud the azure of that radiant soul? Since in her loyalty she trusts to me, Since virtue shields her with its sanctity, Have I a right to take her gift of love, To bring my storms into her perfect day?"

MARION (_aside_).

This is theology, it seems to me! I wonder if he is a Huguenot?

DIDIER.

But when your tender voice fell on my ear, I wrestled with my doubts no more--I came.

MARION.

Oh, then you heard me speaking--that is strange!

DIDIER.

Yes; with another person.

MARION (_quickly_).

With Dame Rose! She talks just like a man, don't you think so? Such a strong voice! Ah, well, since you are here I am no longer angry! Come, sit down. [_Indicating a place at her side._ Sit here!

DIDIER.

No! at your feet.

[_He sits on a stool at Marion's feet and looks at her for some moments in complete silence._

Hear me, Marie! I have no name but Didier--never knew My father nor my mother. I was left, A baby, on the threshold of a church. A woman, old, belonging to the people, Preserved me, was my mother and my nurse. She brought me up a Christian, then she died And left me all she had--nine hundred francs A year, on which I live. To be alone At twenty is a sad and bitter thing! I traveled--saw mankind: I learned to hate A few and to despise the rest. For on This tarnished mirror we call human life, I saw nothing but pride and misery And pain; so that, although I'm young, I'm old, And am as weary of the world as are The men who leave it. Never touched a thing That did not tear and lacerate my soul! Although the world was bad, I found men worse. Thus I have lived; alone and poor and sad, Until you came, and you have set things right. I hardly know you. At the corner of A Paris street you first appeared to me. Then afterward I met you, and I thought Your eyes were sweet, your speech was beautiful! I was afraid of loving you, and fled! But destiny is strange: I found you here, I find you everywhere, as if you were My guardian angel. So at last, my love Grew powerful, resistless, and I felt I must talk with you. You were willing. Now They're at your service, both my heart and life. I will do anything that you wish done. If there is any man or anything That troubles you, or you have any whim And somebody must die to satisfy it-- Must die, and make no sign--and feel 'twas worth Death any time to see you smile; if you Need such a man, speak, lady: I am here!

MARION (_smiling_).

You've a strange nature, but I love you so!

DIDIER.

You love me! Ah, take care! One dare not say Such words in any careless way! Love me? Oh, do you know what loving means? What 'tis To feel love take possession of our blood, Become our daily breath? To feel this thing Which long has smoldered burst to flame, and rise A great, majestic, purifying fire? To feel it burn up clean within our hearts The refuse other passions have left there? This love, hopeless indeed, but limitless, Which outlives all things, even happiness-- Is this the kind of love you mean?

MARION (_touched_).

Indeed!

DIDIER.

You do not know it, but I love you so! From that first time I saw you, my dark life Was shot with sunlight streaming from your eyes; Since then all's different. To me you seem Some wonderful creation, not of earth. My life, in whose dark gloom I groaned so long, Grows almost beautiful when you are by. For 'til you came, I'd wandered, suffered, wept; I'd struggled, fallen--but I had not loved.

MARION.

Poor Didier!

DIDIER.

Speak, Marie!

MARION.

Well, then, I do. I love with just this love--love you as much And maybe more than you love me! It was Not destiny that brought me here. 'Twas I Who came, who followed you, and I am yours!

DIDIER (_falling on his knees_).

Oh, do not cheat me! Give me truth, Marie! If to my ardent love your love responds, The world holds no possession rich as mine! My whole life, kneeling at your feet, will be One sigh of speechless, blinding ecstasy. But do not cheat me!

MARION.

Do you want a proof
Of love, my Didier?

DIDIER.

Yes!

MARION.

Then speak!

DIDIER.

You are--
Quite free?

MARION (_embarrassed_).

Free? Yes!

DIDIER.

Then take me for a brother,
For a protector--be my wife?

MARION (_aside_).

His wife!
Ah, why am I not worthy?

DIDIER.

You consent?

MARION.

I--can--

DIDIER.

Don't say it, please--I understand! An orphan, without fortune! What a fool! Give back my pain, my gloom, my solitude! Farewell!

[_He starts to go; Marion holds him back._

MARION.

Didier, what are you saying?
[_She bursts into tears._

DIDIER.

True! But why this hesitation? [_Going back to her._ Can't you feel The ecstasy of being, each to each, a world, A country, heaven; in some deserted spot To hide a happiness kings could not buy.

MARION.

It would be heaven!

DIDIER.

Will you have it? Come!

MARION.

[_Aside._] Accursed woman! [_Aloud._] No, it cannot be.

[_She tears herself from out his arms, and falls on the armchair._

DIDIER (_freezingly_).

The offer was not generous, I know. You've answered me. I'll speak of it no more! Good-by!

MARION. (_aside_).

Alack, the day I pleased him! [_Aloud._] Stay! I'll tell you. You have hurt me to the soul. I will explain--

DIDIER (_coldly_).

What were you reading, madame,
When I came?

[_Takes the book from the table and reads._

"To Marion de Lorme.
Love's Garland!" Yes, the beauty of the day!

[_Throwing the book violently to the floor._

Vile creature! a dishonor to her sex!

MARION. (_trembling_).

But--she--

DIDIER.

What are you doing with such books?
How came they here?

MARION. (_inaudibly, and looking down_).

They came by chance.

DIDIER.

Do you-- You who have eyes so pure, a brow so chaste-- Do you know what she is--this woman? Well, She's beautiful in body, and deformed In soul! A Phryne, selling everywhere, To every man, her love, which is an insult, An infamy!

MARION (_her head in her hands_).

My God!

[_A noise of footsteps, a clashing of swords outside, and cries._

VOICE IN THE STREET.

Help! Murder! Help!

DIDIER (_surprised_).

What noise is that out there upon the square?
[_Cries continue._

VOICE IN THE STREET.

Help! Murder! Help!

DIDIER (_looking from the balcony_).

They're killing some one! Ha!

[_He takes his sword and step's over the balustrade. Marion rises, runs to him and tries to hold him back by his cloak._

MARION.

Don't, Didier, if you love me! They'll kill you! Don't go!

DIDIER (_jumping down into the street_).

He is the one they're going to kill!
Poor man! [_Outside, to combatants._

Stand off! Hold firmly, sir, and push!
[_Clashing of swords._
There, wretch!

[_Noise of swords, voices, and footsteps._

MARION. (_on the balcony, terrified_).

Just Heaven! They are six 'gainst two!

VOICE IN THE STREET.

This man--he is the devil!

[_The clashing of swords subsides little by little, then entirely ceases. The sounds of footsteps become indistinct. Didier reappears scaling the balcony._

DIDIER (_outside of the balcony and turned toward the street_).

You are safe;
Now go your way!

SAVERNY (_from outside_).

Not 'til I've grasped your hand--
Not 'til I've thanked you, if you please!

DIDIER.

Pass on!
I will consider myself thanked.

SAVERNY.

Not so!
I mean to thank you. [_Scaling balcony._

DIDIER.

Can't you speak from there
And say "I thank you" without coming up?

SCENE III

Marion, Didier, Saverny

SAVERNY (_jumping into the room, sword in hand_).

Upon my soul! 'Tis a strange chivalry To save my life and push me from the door! The door--that is to say, the window! No, They shall not say one of my family Was bravely rescued by a nobleman And did not in return say "Marquis--" Pray, What is your name?

DIDIER.

Didier.

SAVERNY.

Didier--of what?

DIDIER.

Didier, of nothing! People kill you, and I help you--that is all! Now go!

SAVERNY.

Indeed! That's your way, is it? Why not have let Those traitors kill me? 'Twould have pleased me more. For without you I'd be a dead man now. Six thieves against me! Dead! Of course! What else? Six daggers against one thin sword--

[_Perceiving Marion, who has been trying to avoid him._

Oh, ho! You're not alone! At last I understand! I'm robbing you of pleasure. Pardon me! [_Aside._] I'd like to see the lady!

[_Approaches Marion, who is trembling: he recognizes her._

It is you!
[_Indicating Didier._
Then he's the one!

MARION (_low_).

Hush! You will ruin all!

SAVERNY (_bowing_).

Madame!

MARION (_low_).

I love for the first time!

DIDIER (_aside_).

'Sdeath!
That man is looking at her with bold eyes.

[_He overturns the lamp with a blow._

SAVERNY.

You put the lamp out, sir?

DIDIER.

It would be wise
For us to leave together, and at once.

SAVERNY.

So be it, then! I follow you!

[_To Marion, whom he salutes profoundly._

Madame,
Farewell!

DIDIER (_aside_).

What a rare coxcomb!
[_Aloud to Saverny._] Come, sir, come!

SAVERNY.

You're brusk, but I'm in debt to you for life. If ever you should need fraternal friendship, Count upon me, Marquis de Saverny, Paris, Hôtel de Nesle.

DIDIER.

Enough, sir! Come!
[_Aside._] To see her thus examined by a fool!

[_They go out by the balcony. The voice of Didier is heard outside._

Your road lies that way. Mine lies here!

SCENE IV

Marion, Dame Rose

MARION (_remains absorbed a moment, then calls_).

Dame Rose!

[_Dame Rose appears. Marion points to the window._

Go shut it!

[_Dame Rose, having shut the window, turns and sees Marion wiping away a tear._

DAME ROSE (_aside_).

She is weeping!
[_Aloud._] It is time
To sleep, madame!

MARION.

Yes, time for you--you people. [_Undoing her hair._
Come, help me to undress!

DAME ROSE (_helping her to undress_).

The gentleman
To-night was pleasant. Is he rich?

MARION.

Not rich.

DAME ROSE.

But gallant.

MARION.

No, nor gallant. [_Turning to Dame Rose._
He did not
So much as kiss my hand!

DAME ROSE.

What use is he?

MARION (_pensive_).

I love him!

_ACT II_

THE ENCOUNTER

Scene.--_Blois. The door of a public-house. A square. In the background the city of Blois is visible in the form of an amphitheater, also the towers of St. Nicholas upon the hill, which is covered with houses_

SCENE I

Count de Gassé, Marquis de Brichanteau, Viscount de Bouchavannes, Chevalier de Rochebaron. _They are seated at tables in front of the door: some are smoking, the others are throwing dice and drinking. Afterward Chevalier de Montpesat, Count de Villac; afterward L'Angely; afterward The Town-Crier and The Populace_

BRICHANTEAU (_rising, to Gassé, who enters_).

Gassé! [_They shake hands._
You are come to join
The regiment at Blois: our compliments
Upon your burial. [_Examining his clothes._
Ah!

Gassé.

It is the style--
This orange with blue ribbons.

[_Folding his arms and curling his mustache._

You must know
That Blois is forty miles from Paris!

BRICHANTEAU.

Yes,
It's China!

GASSÉ.

That makes womankind rebel:
To follow us they must exile themselves.

BOUCHAVANNES (_turning from the game_).

You come from Paris?

ROCHEBARON (_taking out his pipe_).

Is there any news?

GASSÉ (_bowing_).

No, nothing. Corneille still upsets all heads. Guiche has obtained the order; Ast is duke. Of trifles, plenty--thirty Huguenots Were hung; a quantity of duels. On The third, D'Angennes fought Arquien on account Of 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 creature In the theater Mondori. On the ninth, Lachâtre fought with Nogent because he wrote Three rhymes of Colletet's badly; Margaillan With Gorde, about the time of day; D'Humière With Gondi on the way to walk in church; And all the Brissacs 'gainst all the Soubises For 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 one Can do here is to die of weariness. [_To Gassé._] You say Caussade killed Latournelle?

GASSÉ.

He did, With a good gash! [_Examining Rochebaron's sleeves._ 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.

BRICHANTEAU.

Pray repeat The list of duels. How about the King? What does he say?

GASSÉ.

The Cardinal's enraged
And 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 and The 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 Paris For 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!

ROCHEBARON.

That's true.

BRICHANTEAU.

Won't you believe Saverny when He says he saw her, hidden somewhere with A lover, and this lover saved his life When 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 (_to Brichanteau_).

Are you sure of it?

BRICHANTEAU.

As sure as that I have six silver bezants Upon a field of azure. Saverny Has no desire, at present, but to find This man.

BOUCHAVANNES.

He ought to find him at her house.

BRICHANTEAU.

She's changed her name and lodging, and all trace Of her is lost.

[_Marion and Didier cross 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 Blois
To find our Marion, a provincial!

[_Enter Count de Villac and Chevalier 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 can To satisfy you: talk about "Melite," "The Gallery of the Palace," but "The Cid!" What is it, pray?

GASSÉ (_to Montpesat_).

You are conservative.

MONTPESAT.

"The Cid" is good!

VILLAC.

I tell you it is bad! Your "Cid"--why Scudéry can crush it with A touch! Look at the style! It deals with things Extraordinary; 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 (_to Montpesat_).

"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 minds Had 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 place Of Garnier, just as in our day felt hats Have replaced velvet _mortiers_.

MONTPESAT.

For Corneille
I am, and for felt hats!

GASSÉ (_to Montpesat_).

You are too rash! [_To Villac._] Garnier is very fine. I'm neutral; but Corneille has also his good points.

VILLAC.

Agreed!

ROCHEBARON.

Agreed! He is a witty fellow and I like him!

BRICHANTEAU.

He has no nobility!

ROCHEBARON.

A name so commonplace offends the ear.

BOUCHAVANNES.

A family of petty lawyers, who Have gnawed at ducats 'til they obtained sous.

[_L'Angely enters, 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 rhapsodies The 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 which In its bright glass protects the flame from wind.

BOUCHAVANNES.

Oh, could our swords blow such a wind some day As to extinguish this devouring fire!

ROCHEBARON.

If every one had the same mind as I!

BRICHANTEAU.

We would unite-- [_To Bouchavannes._] 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 on L'Angely, who silently resumes his seat._

VILLAC (_taking Montpesat aside_).

My lord, when we were talking of Corneille, You spoke in tones that irritated me. In my turn I would like to say two words To 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. Villac and Montpesat separate, keeping their eyes fixed on L'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 minister Is mighty. A great mower, he! He makes Great seas of blood, and then he covers them With his red cloak and nothing more is said. [_Silence._

GASSÉ.

Good faith!

ROCHEBARON.

I'm blessed if I shall stir!

BRICHANTEAU.

Beside
This jester Pluto was a funny man!

[_A crowd of people enter from the streets and houses, and spread over the Square. In the center appears The Town-Crier on 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 (_to Rochebaron_).

I hope our packs of cards are still complete. [_Indicating the four Servants in livery._ It looks as though these knaves were stolen thence.

TOWN-CRIER (_in a nasal tone of voice_).

Peace, citizens!

BRICHANTEAU (_low to Gassé_).

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 to Brichanteau_).

Cloak _fleur-de-lis_ concealing Richelieu!

L'ANGELY.

Attention!

TOWN-CRIER (_continuing_).

"King of France and of Navarre--"

BRICHANTEAU (_low to Bouchavannes_).

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 desired And 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 time All 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 edict We here renounce our right of pardon for This crime. It is our gracious pleasure."-- Signed, Louis; and lower--Richelieu. [_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 holds A 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 on The 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 head
Which shall defy it.

[_The Town-Crier exits; the crowd retires. Saverny enters. It begins to grow dark._

SCENE II

_The same._ Marquis de Saverny

BRICHANTEAU (_going to Saverny_).

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 down The lamp.

GASSÉ.

That's strange!

BRICHANTEAU.

You'd recognize him if
You 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 men Who 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 paid Those 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 which Marion and Didier disappeared is re-opened. Didier comes forth dreamily, walking slowly, his arms folded._

SCENE III

_The same._ Didier

DIDIER (_coming slowly from the back; no one sees or hears him_).

Marquis de Saverny! I would like much To see that fool who looked at her so hard. I have him on my mind.

BOUCHAVANNES (_to Saverny, 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 (_to Saverny, 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 (_perceiving Didier_).

That sallow face can read
For me.
[_To Didier, elevating his voice._
Ho! man there with the cloak! My friend!
Good fellow!
[_To Brichanteau._] Brichanteau, he must be deaf.

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 duelists With gallows, be they nobles or plebeians.

SAVERNY.

No, you mistake, my friend. You ought to know A 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. [_To Didier, with malice._] You don't read well; Perhaps you are near-sighted. Lift your hat, 'Twill give you more light. Take it off.

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 marquis In 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, you May claim the right, because you might be noble. It is a better thing to lift a vassal Than 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 to Didier._ Well tempered and obedient!

[_L'ANGELY rises, draws his sword and presents it to Didier._

L'ANGLEY.

No; for a foolish deed, you'd better take A fool's sword! You are brave! You'll honor it! [_Maliciously._] And in return, to bring me luck, pray let Me cut a piece from off the hanging-rope!

DIDIER (_bitterly, taking sword_).

I will.
[_To The Marquis._
Now God have mercy on the good!

BRICHANTEAU (_jumping with delight_).

A duel--excellent!

SAVERNY (_to Didier)._

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.