Your niece's door is still ajar by the discreet width of a finger, so
I assume that the Emigrant also begins to comprehend. Therefore I take
my ease! [_He seats himself in the most comfortable chair in the room,
crossing his legs in a leisurely attitude, and lightly drumming the
tips of his fingers together, the while his peaceful gaze is fixed
upon the ceiling. His tone, as he continues, is casual._] You
understand, my Dossonville, having long ago occupied this very
apartment myself, I am serenely aware that the Emigrant can leave the
other room only by the window; and as this is the fourth floor, and a
proper number of bayonets in the courtyard below are arranged to
receive any person active enough to descend by a rope of bed-clothes,
one is confident that the said Emigrant will remain where he is. Let
us make ourselves comfortable, for it is a delightful hour--an hour I
have long promised myself. I am in a good humor. Let us all be happy.
Citizeness Laseyne, enjoy yourself. Call me some bad names!
ANNE [_between her teeth_]. If I could find one evil enough!
VALSIN [_slapping his knee delightedly_]. There it is: the complete
incompetence of your class. You poor aristocrats, you do not even know
how to swear. Your ancestors knew how! They were fighters; they knew
how to swear because they knew how to attack; you poor moderns have no
profanity left in you, because, poisoned by idleness, you have
forgotten even how to resist. And yet you thought yourselves on top,
and so you were--but as foam is on top of the wave. You forgot that
power, like genius, always comes from underneath, because it is
produced only by turmoil. We have had to wring the neck of your
feather-head court, because while the court was the nation the nation
had its pockets picked. You were at the mercy of anybody with a pinch
of brains: adventurers like Mazarin, like Fouquet, like Law, or that
little commoner, the woman Fish, who called herself Pompadour and took
France--France, merely!--from your King, and used it to her own
pleasure. Then, at last, after the swindlers had well plucked you--at
last, unfortunate creatures, the People got you! Citizeness, the
People had starved: be assured they will eat you to the bone--and then
eat the bone! You are helpless because you have learned nothing and
forgotten everything. You have forgotten everything in this world
except how to be fat!
DOSSONVILLE [_applauding with unction_]. Beautiful! It is beautiful,
all that! A beautiful speech!
VALSIN. Ass!
DOSSONVILLE [_meekly_]. Perfectly, perfectly.
VALSIN [_crossly_]. That wasn't a speech; it was the truth. Citizeness
Laseyne, so far as you are concerned, I am the People. [_He extends
his hand negligently, with open palm._] And I have got you. [_He
clenches his fingers, like a cook's on the neck of a fowl._] Like
that! And I'm going to take you back to Paris, you and the Emigrant.
[_She stands in an attitude eloquent of despair. His glance roves from
her to the door of the other room, which is still slightly ajar; and,
smiling at some fugitive thought, he continues, deliberately._] I take
you: you and your brother--and that rather pretty little person who
traveled with you. [_There is a breathless exclamation from the other
side of the door, which is flung open violently, as ELOISE--flushed,
radiant with anger, and altogether magnificent--sweeps into the room
to confront VALSIN._]
ELOISE [_slamming the door behind her_]. Leave this Jack-in-Office to
me, Anne!
DOSSONVILLE [_dazed by the vision_]. Lord! What glory! [_He rises,
bowing profoundly, muttering hoarsely._] Oh, eyes! Oh, hair! Look at
her shape! Her chin! The divine--
VALSIN [_getting up and patting him reassuringly on the back_]. The
lady perceives her effect, my Dossonville. It is no novelty. Sit down,
my Dossonville. [_The still murmurous DOSSONVILLE obeys VALSIN turns
to ELOISE, a brilliant light in his eyes._] Let me greet one of the
nieces of Widow Balsage--evidently not the sleepy one, and certainly
not ill. Health so transcendent--
ELOISE [_placing her hand upon MADAME DE LASEYNE's shoulder_]. This is
a clown, Anne. You need have no fear of him whatever. His petty
authority does not extend to us.
VALSIN [_deferentially_]. Will the niece of Widow Balsage explain why
it does not?
ELOISE [_turning upon him fiercely_]. Because the patriot Citizeness
Eloise d'Anville is here!
VALSIN [_assuming an air of thoughtfulness_]. Yes, she is here. That
"permit" yonder even mentions her by name. It is curious. I shall have
to go into that. Continue, niece.
ELOISE [_with supreme haughtiness_]. This lady is under her
protection.
VALSIN [_growing red_]. Pardon. Under whose protection?
ELOISE [_sulphurously_]. Under the protection of Eloise d'Anville!
[_This has a frightful effect upon VALSIN; his face becomes contorted;
he clutches at his throat, apparently half strangled, staggers, and
falls choking into the easy-chair he has formerly occupied._]
VALSIN [_gasping, coughing, incoherent_]. Under the pro--the
protection--[_He explodes into peal after peal of uproarious
laughter._] The protection of--Aha, ha, ha, ho, ho, ho! [_He rocks
himself back and forth unappeasably._]
ELOISE [_with a slight lift of the eyebrows_]. This man is an idiot.
VALSIN [_during an abatement of his attack_]. Oh, pardon! It
is--too--much--too much for me! You say--these people are--
ELOISE [_stamping her foot_]. Under the protection of Eloise
d'Anville, imbecile! You cannot touch them. She wills it! [_At this,
VALSIN shouts as if pleading for mercy, and beats the air with his
hands. He struggles to his feet and, pounding himself upon the chest,
walks to and fro in the effort to control his convulsion._]
ELOISE [_to ANNE, under cover of the noise he makes_]. I was wrong: he
is not an idiot.
ANNE [_despairingly_]. He laughs at you.
ELOISE [_in a quick whisper_]. Out of bluster; because he is afraid.
He is badly frightened. I know just what to do. Go into the other room
with Louis.
ANNE [_protesting weakly_]. I can't hope--
ELOISE [_flashing from a cloud_]. You failed, didn't you? [_MADAME DE
LASEYNE, after a tearful perusal of the stern resourcefulness now
written in the younger woman's eyes, succumbs with a piteous gesture
of assent and goes out forlornly. ELOISE closes the door and stands
with her back to it._]
VALSIN [_paying no attention to them_]. Eloise d'Anville! [_Still
pacing the room in the struggle to subdue his hilarity._] This young
citizeness speaks of the protection of Eloise d'Anville! [_Leaning
feebly upon DOSSONVILLE's shoulder._] Do you hear, my Dossonville? It
is an ecstasy. Ecstasize, then. Scream, Dossonville!
DOSSONVILLE [_puzzled, but evidently accustomed to being so, cackles
instantly_]. Perfectly. Ha, ha! The citizeness is not only stirringly
beautiful, she is also--
VALSIN. She is also a wit. Susceptible henchman, concentrate your
thoughts upon domesticity. In this presence remember your wife!
ELOISE [_peremptorily_]. Dismiss that person. I have something to say
to you.
VALSIN [_wiping his eyes_]. Dossonville, you are not required. We are
going to be sentimental, and heaven knows you are not the moon. In
fact, you are a fat old man. Exit, obesity! Go somewhere and think
about your children. Flit, whale!
DOSSONVILLE [_rising_]. Perfectly, my chieftain. [_He goes to the
broken door._]
ELOISE [_tapping the floor with her shoe_]. Out of hearing!
VALSIN. The floor below.
DOSSONVILLE. Well understood. Perfectly, perfectly! [_He goes out
through the hallway; disappears, chuckling grossly. There are some
moments of silence within the room, while he is heard clumping down a
flight of stairs; then VALSIN turns to ELOISE with burlesque ardor._]
VALSIN. "Alone at last!"
ELOISE [_maintaining her composure_]. Rabbit!
VALSIN [_dropping into the chair at the desk, with mock dejection_].
Repulsed at the outset! Ah, Citizeness, there were moments on the
journey from Paris when I thought I detected a certain kindness in
your glances at the lonely stranger.
ELOISE [_folding her arms_]. You are to withdraw your soldiers,
countersign the "permit," and allow my friends to embark at once.
VALSIN [_with solemnity_]. Do you give it as an order, Citizeness?
ELOISE. I do. You will receive suitable political advancement.
VALSIN [_in a choked voice_]. You mean as a--a reward?
ELOISE [_haughtily_]. _I_ guarantee that you shall receive it! [_He
looks at her strangely; then, with a low moan, presses his hand to his
side, seeming upon the point of a dangerous seizure._]
VALSIN [_managing to speak_]. I can only beg you to spare me. You have
me at your mercy.
ELOISE [_swelling_]. It is well for you that you understand that!
VALSIN [_shaking his hand ruefully_]. Yes; you see I have a bad liver:
it may become permanently enlarged. Laughter is my great danger.
ELOISE [_crying out with rage_]. _Oh!_
VALSIN [_dolorously_]. I have continually to remind myself that I am
no longer in the first flush of youth.
ELOISE. Idiot! Do you not know who I am!
VALSIN. You? Oh yes--[_He checks himself abruptly; looks at her with
brief intensity; turns his eyes away, half closing them in quick
meditation; smiles, as upon some secret pleasantry, and proceeds
briskly._] Oh yes, yes, I know who you are.
ELOISE [_beginning haughtily_]. Then you--
VALSIN [_at once cutting her off_]. As to your name, I do not say.
Names at best are details; and your own is a detail that could hardly
be thought to matter. _What_ you are is obvious: you joined Louis and
his sister in Paris at the barriers, and traveled with them as "Marie
Balsage," a sister. You might save us a little trouble by giving us
your real name; you will probably refuse, and the police will have to
look it up when I take you back to Paris. Frankly, you are of no
importance to us, though of course we'll send you to the Tribunal. No
doubt you are a poor relative of the Valny-Cheraults, or, perhaps, you
may have been a governess in the Laseyne family, or--
ELOISE [_under her breath_]. Idiot! Idiot!
VALSIN [_with subterranean enjoyment, watching her sidelong_]. Or the
good-looking wife of some faithful retainer of the Emigrant's,
perhaps.
ELOISE [_with a shrill laugh_]. Does the Committee of Public Safety
betray the same intelligence in the appointment of all its agents?
[_Violently._] Imbecile, I--
VALSIN [_quickly raising his voice to check her_]. You are of no
importance, I tell you! [_Changing his tone._] Of course I mean
politically. [_With broad gallantry._] Otherwise, I am the first to
admit extreme susceptibility. I saw that you observed it on the
way--at the taverns, in the diligence, at the posting-houses, at--
ELOISE [_with serenity_]. Yes. I am accustomed to oglers.
VALSIN. Alas, I believe you! My unfortunate sex is but too responsive.
ELOISE [_gasping_]. "Responsive"--Oh!
VALSIN [_indulgently_]. Let us return to the safer subject. Presently
I shall arrest those people in the other room and, regretfully, you
too. But first I pamper myself; I chat; I have an attractive woman to
listen. In the matter of the arrest, I delay my fire; I do not flash
in the pan, but I lengthen my fuse. Why? For the same reason that when
I was a little boy and had something good to eat, I always first paid
it the compliments of an epicure. I looked at it a long while. I
played with it. Then--I devoured it! I am still like that. And Louis
yonder is good to eat, because I happen not to love him. However, I
should mention that I doubt if he could recall either myself or the
circumstance which annoyed me; some episodes are sometimes so little
to certain people and so significant to certain other people. [_He
smiles, stretching himself luxuriously in his chair._] Behold me,
Citizeness! I am explained. I am indulging my humor: I play with my
cake. Let us see into what curious little figures I can twist it.
ELOISE. Idiot!
VALSIN [_pleasantly_]. I have lost count, but I think that is the
sixth idiot you have called me. Aha, it is only history, which one
admires for repeating itself. Good! Let us march. I shall play--[_He
picks up the "permit" from the desk, studies it absently, and looks
whimsically at her over his shoulder, continuing:_] I shall play
with--with all four of you.
ELOISE [_impulsively_]. Four?
VALSIN. I am not easy to deceive; there are four of you here.
ELOISE [_staring_]. So?
VALSIN. Louis brought you and his sister from Paris: a party of three.
This "permit" which he forged is for four; the original three and the
woman you mentioned a while ago, Eloise d'Anville. Hence she must have
joined you here. The deduction is plain: there are three people in
that room: the Emigrant, his sister, and this Eloise d'Anville. To the
trained mind such reasoning is simple.
ELOISE [_elated_]. Perfectly!
VALSIN [_with an air of cunning_]. Nothing escapes me. You see that.
ELOISE. At first glance! I make you my most profound compliments. Sir,
you are an eagle!
VALSIN [_smugly_]. Thanks. Now, then, pretty governess, you thought
this d'Anville might be able to help you. What put that in your head?
ELOISE [_with severity_]. Do you pretend not to know what she is?
VALSIN. A heroine I have had the misfortune never to encounter. But I
am informed of her character and history.
ELOISE [_sternly_]. Then you understand that even the Agent of the
National Committee risks his head if he dares touch people she chooses
to protect.
VALSIN [_extending his hand in plaintive appeal_]. Be generous to my
opacity. How could _she_ protect anybody?
ELOISE [_with condescension_]. She has earned the gratitude--
VALSIN. Of whom?
ELOISE [_superbly_]. Of the Nation!
VALSIN [_breaking out again_]. Ha, ha, ha! [_Clutching at his side._]
Pardon, oh, pardon, liver of mine. I must not die; my life is still
useful.
ELOISE [_persisting stormily_]. Of the People, stupidity! Of the whole
People, dolt! Of France, blockhead!
VALSIN [_with a violent effort, conquering his hilarity_]. There! I am
saved. Let us be solemn, my child; it is better for my malady. You are
still so young that one can instruct you that individuals are rarely
grateful; "the People," never. What you call "the People" means folk
who are not always sure of their next meal; therefore their great
political and patriotic question is the cost of food. Their heroes
are the champions who are going to make it cheaper; and when these
champions fail them or cease to be useful to them, then they either
forget these poor champions--or eat them. Let us hear what your Eloise
d'Anville has done to earn the reward of being forgotten instead of
eaten.
ELOISE [_her lips quivering_]. She surrendered her property
voluntarily. She gave up all she owned to the Nation.
VALSIN [_genially_]. And immediately went to live with her relatives
in great luxury.
ELOISE [_choking_]. The Republic will protect her. She gave her whole
estate--
VALSIN. And the order for its confiscation was already written when
she did it.
ELOISE [_passionately_]. Ah--_liar!_
VALSIN [_smiling_]. I have seen the order. [_She leans against the
wall, breathing heavily. He goes on, smoothly._] Yes, this martyr
"gave" us her property; but one hears that she went to the opera just
the same and wore more jewels than ever, and lived richly upon the
Laseynes and Valny-Cheraults, until _they_ were confiscated. Why, all
the world knows about this woman; and let me tell you, to your credit,
my governess, I think you have a charitable heart: you are the only
person I ever heard speak kindly of her.
ELOISE [_setting her teeth_]. Venom!
VALSIN [_observing her slyly_]. It is with difficulty I am restraining
my curiosity to see her--also to hear her!--when she learns of her
proscription by a grateful Republic.
ELOISE [_with shrill mockery_]. Proscribed? Eloise d'Anville
proscribed? Your inventions should be more plausible, Goodman Spy! I
_knew_ you were lying--
VALSIN [_smiling_]. You do not believe--
ELOISE [_proudly_]. Eloise d'Anville is a known Girondist. The Gironde
is the real power in France.
VALSIN [_mildly_]. That party has fallen.
ELOISE [_with fire_]. Not far! It will revive.
VALSIN. Pardon, Citizeness, but you are behind the times, and they are
very fast nowadays--the times. The Gironde is dead.
ELOISE [_ominously_]. It may survive _you_, my friend. Take care!
VALSIN [_unimpressed_]. The Gironde had a grand facade, and that was
all. It was a party composed of amateurs and orators; and of course
there were some noisy camp-followers and a few comic-opera
vivandieres, such as this d'Anville. In short, the Gironde looked
enormous because it was hollow. It was like a pie that is all crust.
We have tapped the crust--with a knife, Citizeness. There is nothing
left.
ELOISE [_contemptuously_]. You say so. Nevertheless, the Rolands--
VALSIN [_gravely_]. Roland was found in a field yesterday; he had
killed himself. His wife was guillotined the day after you left Paris.
Every one of their political friends is proscribed.
ELOISE [_shaking as with bitter cold_]. It is a lie! Not Eloise
d'Anville!
VALSIN [_rising_]. Would you like to see the warrant for her arrest?
[_He takes a packet of documents from his breast pocket, selects one,
and spreads it open before her._] Let me read you her description:
"Eloise d'Anville, aristocrat. Figure, comely. Complexion, blond.
Eyes, dark blue. Nose, straight. Mouth, wide--"
ELOISE [_in a burst of passion, striking the warrant a violent blow
with her clenched fist_]. Let them dare! [_Beside herself, she strikes
again, tearing the paper from his grasp. She stamps upon it._] Let
them dare, I say!
VALSIN [_picking up the warrant_]. Dare to say her mouth is wide?
ELOISE [_cyclonic_]. Dare to arrest her!
VALSIN. It does seem a pity. [_He folds the warrant slowly and
replaces it in his pocket._] Yes, a great pity. She was the one
amusing thing in all this somberness. She will be missed. The
Revolution will lack its joke.
ELOISE [_recoiling, her passion exhausted_]. Ah, infamy! [_She turns
from him, covering her face with her hands._]
VALSIN [_with a soothing gesture_]. Being only her friend, you speak
mildly. The d'Anville herself would call it blasphemy.
ELOISE [_with difficulty_]. She is--so vain--then?
VALSIN [_lightly_]. Oh, a type--an actress.
ELOISE [_her back to him_]. How do you know? You said--
VALSIN. That I had not encountered her. [_Glibly._] One knows best the
people one has never seen. Intimacy confuses judgment. I confess to
that amount of hatred for the former Marquis de Valny-Cherault that I
take as great an interest in all that concerns him as if I loved him.
And the little d'Anville concerns him--yes, almost one would say,
consumes him. The unfortunate man is said to be so blindly faithful
that he can speak her name without laughing.
ELOISE [_stunned_]. Oh!
VALSIN [_going on, cheerily_]. No one else can do that, Citizeness.
Jacobins, Cordeliers, Hebertists, even the shattered relics of the
Gironde itself, all alike join in the colossal laughter at this
Tricoteuse in Sevres--this Jeanne d'Arc in rice-powder!
ELOISE [_tragically_]. They laugh--and proclaim her an outlaw!
VALSIN [_waving his hand carelessly_]. Oh, it is only that we are
sweeping up the last remnants of aristocracy, and she goes with the
rest--into the dust-heap. She should have remained a royalist; the
final spectacle might have had dignity. As it is, she is not of her
own class, not of ours: neither fish nor flesh nor--but yes, perhaps,
after all, she is a fowl.
ELOISE [_brokenly_]. Alas! Homing--with wounded wing! [_She sinks into
a chair with pathetic grace, her face in her hands._]
VALSIN [_surreptitiously grinning_]. Not at all what I meant.
[_Brutally._] Peacocks don't fly.
ELOISE [_regaining her feet at a bound_]. You imitation dandy! You--
VALSIN [_with benevolence_]. My dear, your indignation for your friend
is chivalrous. It is admirable; but she is not worth it. You do not
understand her: you have probably seen her so much that you have never
seen her as she is.
ELOISE [_witheringly_]. But you, august Zeus, having _never_ seen her,
will reveal her to me!
VALSIN [_smoothly urbane_]. If you have ears. You see, she is not
altogether unique, but of a variety known to men who are wise enough
to make a study of women.
ELOISE [_snapping out a short, loud laugh in his face_]. Pouff!
VALSIN [_unruffled_]. I profess myself an apprentice. The science
itself is but in its infancy. Women themselves understand very well
that they are to be classified, and they fear that we shall perceive
it: they do not really wish to be known. Yet it is coming; some day
our cyclopedists will have you sorted, classed, and defined with
precision; but the d'Alembert of the future will not be a woman,
because no woman so disloyal will ever be found. Men have to acquire
loyalty to their sex: yours is an instinct. Citizen governess, I will
give you a reading of the little d'Anville from this unwritten work.
To begin--
ELOISE [_feverishly interested, but affecting languor_]. _Must_ you?
VALSIN. To Eloise d'Anville the most interesting thing about a
rose-bush has always been that Eloise d'Anville could smell it.
Moonlight becomes important when it falls upon her face; sunset is
worthy when she grows rosy in it. To her mind, the universe was set in
motion to be the background for a decoration, and she is the
decoration. She believes that the cathedral was built for the fresco.
And when a dog interests her, it is because he would look well beside
her in a painting. Such dogs have no minds. I refer you to all the
dogs in the portraits of Beauties.
ELOISE [_not at all displeased; pretending carelessness_]. Ah, you
have heard that she is beautiful?
VALSIN. Far worse: that she is a Beauty. Let nothing ever tempt _you_,
my dear, into setting up in that line. For you are very
well-appearing, I assure you; and if you had been surrounded with all
the disadvantages of the d'Anville, who knows but that you might have
become as famous a Beauty as she? What makes a Beauty is not the
sumptuous sculpture alone, but a very peculiar arrogance--not in the
least arrogance of mind, my little governess. In this, your d'Anville
emerged from childhood full-panoplied indeed; and the feather-head
court fell headlong at her feet. It was the fated creature's ruin.
ELOISE [_placidly_]. And it is because of her beauty that you drag her
to the guillotine?
VALSIN. Bless you, I merely convey her!
ELOISE. Tell me, logician, was it not her beauty that inspired her to
give her property to the Nation?
VALSIN. It was.
ELOISE. What perception! I am faint with admiration. And no doubt it
was her beauty that made her a Republican?
VALSIN. What else?
ELOISE. Hail, oracle! [_She releases an arpeggio of satiric
laughter._]
VALSIN. That laugh is diaphanous. I see you through it, already
convinced. [_She stops laughing immediately._] Ha! we may proceed.
Remark this, governess: a Beauty is the living evidence of man's
immortality; the one plain proof that he has a soul.
ELOISE. It is not so bad then, after all?
VALSIN. It is utterly bad. But of all people a Beauty is most
conscious of her duality. Her whole life is based upon her absolute
knowledge that her Self and her body are two. She sacrifices all
things to her beauty because her beauty feeds her Self with a dreadful
food which it has made her unable to live without.
ELOISE. My little gentleman, you talk like a sentimental waiter. Your
metaphors are all hot from the kitchen.
VALSIN [_nettled_]. It is natural; unlike your Eloise, I am _really_
of "the People"--and starved much in my youth.
ELOISE. But, like her, you are still hungry.
VALSIN. A Beauty is a species of cannibal priestess, my dear. She will
make burnt-offerings of her father and her mother, her sisters--her
lovers--to her beauty, that it may in turn bring her the food she must
have or perish.
ELOISE. _Boum!_ [_She snaps her fingers._] And of course she bathes in
the blood of little children?
VALSIN [_grimly_]. Often.
ELOISE [_averting her gaze from his_]. This mysterious food--
VALSIN. Not at all mysterious. Sensation. There you have it. And that
is why Eloise d'Anville is a renegade. You understand perfectly.
ELOISE. You are too polite. No.