(Jean _and_ Gilberte _seated on the sofa at right_.)
JEAN
At last, you are my wife, Mademoiselle.
GILBERTE
Mademoiselle?
JEAN
Forgive me. I hardly know how to address you.
GILBERTE
Call me Gilberte. There is nothing shocking about that, is there?
JEAN
Gilberte, at last, at last, at last, you are my wife!
GILBERTE
And truly, not without a good deal of trouble.
JEAN
And what a dainty, energetic little creature you are! How you fought
with your father, and with your aunt, for it is only through you, and
thanks to you, that we are married, for which I thank you with all my
heart--the heart which belongs to you.
GILBERTE
But it is only because I trusted you, and that is all.
JEAN
And have you only trust for me?
GILBERTE
Stupid boy! You know that you pleased me. If you had only pleased me, my
confidence in you would have been useless. One must love first. Without
that, Monsieur, nothing can come.
JEAN
Call me Jean, just as I have called you Gilberte.
GILBERTE [_hesitates_]
But that is not altogether the same thing. It seems to me--that--that--I
cannot do it. [_Rises and crosses_ L.]
JEAN [_rises_]
But I love you. I am no trifler, believe me; I love you. I am the man
who loves you because he has found in you qualities that are
inestimable. You are one of those perfect creatures who have as much
brains as sentiment; and the sentimentality that permeates you is not
the sickly sentimentality of ordinary women. It is that gloriously
beautiful faculty of tenderness which characterizes great souls, and
which one never meets elsewhere in the world. And then, you are so
beautiful, so graceful, with a grace that is all your own, and I, who am
a painter, you know how I adore the beautiful. Then, above everything,
you drew me to you, but not only that, you wiped out the traces of the
world from my mind and eyes.
GILBERTE
I like to hear you say that. But, don't talk any more just now in that
way, because it embarrasses me. However, I know, for I try to foresee
everything, that to enjoy these things I must listen to them to-day, for
your words breathe the passion of a lover. Perhaps in the future your
words will be as sweet, for they could not help being so when a man
speaks as you spoke and loves as you appear to love, but at the same
time, they will be different.
JEAN
Oh!
GILBERTE [_sits on stool near the table_]
Tell me it over again.
JEAN
What drew me to you was the mysterious harmony between your natural form
and the soul within it. Do you recollect my first visit to this house?
GILBERTE
Oh, yes, very well. My brother brought you to dinner, and I believe that
you did not wish to come.
JEAN [_laughs_]
If that were true, it was very indiscreet of your brother to tell you.
And he told you that? I am annoyed that he did so, and I confess I did
hesitate somewhat, for you know I was an artist accustomed to the
society of artists, which is lively, witty, and sometimes rather free,
and I felt somewhat disturbed at the idea of entering a house so serious
as yours--a house peopled by dignified lawyers and young ladies. But I
was so fond of your brother, I found him so full of novelty, so gay, so
wittily sarcastic and discerning, under his assumed levity, that not
only did I go everywhere with him, but I followed him to the extent of
meeting you. And I never cease to thank him for it. Do you remember when
I entered the drawing-room where you and your family were sitting, you
were arranging in a china vase some flowers that had just been sent to
you?
GILBERTE
I do.
JEAN
Your father spoke to me of my Uncle Martinel, whom he had formerly
known. This at once formed a link between us, for all the time that I
was talking to him I was watching you arrange your flowers.
GILBERTE [_smiles_]
You looked far too long and too steadfastly for a first introduction.
JEAN
I was looking at you as an artist looks, and was admiring you, for I
found your figure, your movements, and your entire self attractive. And
then for the last six months I have often come to this house, to which
your brother invited me and whither your presence attracted me, and
finally I felt your sway as a lover feels the sway of the one he adores.
There was an inexplicable, unseen attraction calling me to you. [_Sits
beside her_ R. _of table_.] Then a dim idea entered my brain,--an idea
that one day you might become my wife. It gained possession of my soul,
and I immediately took steps to renew the friendship between your father
and my uncle. The two men again became friends. Did you never divine my
maneuvers?
GILBERTE
Divine your maneuvers? No, I suspected a little at times, but I was so
astounded that a man like you--in the full flush of success, so well
known, so sought after--should concern himself with such a little,
unimportant girl as I, that, really, I could place no faith in the
sincerity of your attention.
JEAN
Nevertheless, we quickly knew how to understand each other, did we not?
GILBERTE
Your character pleased me. I felt that you were loyal, and then you
entertained me greatly, for you brought into our house that artistic air
which gave my fancies life. I ought to tell you that my brother had
already warned me that I should like you. You know that Léon loves you.
JEAN
I know it, and I think it was in _his_ brain that the first idea of our
marriage had birth. [_After a short silence_] You remember our return
from Saint-Germain after we had dined in the Henri IV. Pavilion?
GILBERTE
I remember it well.
JEAN
My uncle and your aunt were in the front of the landau, and you and I on
the rear seat, and in another carriage were your father and Léon. What a
glorious spring night! But how coldly you treated me!
GILBERTE
I was so embarrassed!
JEAN
You ought to recall that I put to you that day a question which I had
already asked you, because you cannot deny that I had paid you very
tender attention and that you had captured my heart.
GILBERTE
True. Nevertheless it surprised and upset me. Oh, how often have I
remembered it since! But I have never been able to recall the very words
you used. Do you remember them?
JEAN
No; they came from my lips, issuing from the bottom of my heart like a
prayer for mercy. I only know that I told you that I should never
re-enter your house if you did not give me some little hope that there
should be a day when you would know me better. You pondered a long time
before you answered me, but you spoke in such a low tone that I was
anxious to make you repeat it.
GILBERTE [_takes up his sentence and speaks as if in a dream_]
I said that it would pain me greatly if I should see you no more.
JEAN
Yes, that is what you said.
GILBERTE
You have forgotten nothing!
JEAN
Could anyone forget that? [_With deep emotion._] Do you know what I
think? As we look at each other and examine our hearts, our souls, our
mutual understanding, our love, I verily believe that we have set out on
the true road to happiness. [_Kisses her. For a moment they are
silent._]
GILBERTE [_rises_]
But I must leave you. [_Goes toward door_ L.] I must prepare for our
journey. Meanwhile, go and find my father.
JEAN [_follows her_]
Yes, but tell me before you go that you love me.
GILBERTE
Yes--I love you.
JEAN [_kisses her forehead_]
My only one.
[_Exit_ Gilberte L., _a second after. Enter_ M. Martinel C. _with a very
agitated air, and a letter in his hand_.]
MARTINEL [_perceives_ Jean, _quickly slips the letter into his pocket;
then, recollecting himself_]
Have you seen Léon?
JEAN
No, are you looking for him?
MARTINEL
No, no, I have just a word to say to him concerning an engagement of
small importance.
JEAN [_perceives_ Léon]
Wait a moment. Here he comes.
[_Enter_ Léon R. _Exit_ Jean. C.]