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THE DRAMAS
OF
VICTOR HUGO
MARY TUDOR
MARION DE LORME
ESMERALDA
Profusely Illustrated with Elegant
Wood Engravings
_VOLUME TWENTY-ONE_
NEW YORK
Peter Fenelon Collier, Publisher
CONTENTS
_VOLUME TWENTY-ONE_
Mary Tudor
Marion de Lorme
Esmeralda
ILLUSTRATIONS
The Rendezvous Frontispiece
Marion de Lorme
[Illustration: THE RENDEZVOUS.]
MARY TUDOR
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Mary, The Queen.
Jane.
Gilbert.
Fabiano Fabiani.
Simon Renard.
Joshua Farnaby.
A Jew.
Lord Clinton.
Lord Chandos.
Lord Montague.
Master Eneas Dulverton.
Lord Gardiner.
A Jailer.
_Lords, Pages, Guards, the Executioner._
LONDON, 1553.
MARY TUDOR
_FIRST DAY_
A MAN OF THE PEOPLE
Scene.--_Border of the Thames. A deserted strand. An old parapet in
ruins, conceals the borders of the water. To the right, a house of
mean appearance. At the corner of this house, a statuette of the
Virgin, at whose feet burns a wick in an iron lattice. In the
background, beyond the Thames, London. Two high buildings are
seen--the Tower of London and Westminster. The sun is setting_
SCENE I
_Several men are grouped here and there on the Strand, among whom are
Simon Renard, John Bridges, Baron Chandos, Robert Clinton, Anthony
Brown, Viscount of Montague_
LORD CHANDOS.
You are right, my lord, this damned Italian must have bewitched the
Queen. She can't exist without him; she lives only for him, finds
pleasure only in him, listens only to him. If a day passes without
seeing him, her eyes droop as they did when she loved Cardinal Polus,
you remember?
SIMON RENARD.
She is very much in love, it is true, and, consequently, very
jealous.
LORD CHANDOS.
The Italian has bewitched her.
LORD MONTAGUE.
For a fact, they say that people of his nationality have philters for
that purpose.
LORD CLINTON.
The Spanish are clever at poisons which kill people, the Italians are
clever at poisons which make people fall in love.
LORD CHANDOS.
Then Fabiani is Spanish and Italian, at the same time. The Queen is
in love and is ill. He has made her drink both.
LORD MONTAGUE.
As to that, is he really Spanish or Italian?
LORD CHANDOS.
It appears certain that he was born in Italy, in the Capitanate, and
that he was brought up in Spain. He claims to be connected with a
great Spanish family. Lord Clinton has the story at his finger-tips.
LORD CLINTON.
An adventurer--neither Spanish nor Italian, and still less English,
thank God! These men without a country have no pity on a country,
when they become powerful.
LORD MONTAGUE.
Didn't you say the Queen was ill, Chandos? That does not hinder her
from leading a very gay life with her favorite!
LORD CLINTON.
A gay life! A gay life! The people weep while the Queen laughs and
the favorite is gorged. This man eats silver and drinks gold! The
Queen has given him the estates of Lord Talbot, the great Lord
Talbot! The Queen has made him Earl of Clanbrassil and Baron of
Dinasmonddy, this Fabiano Fabiani who says he belongs to the Spanish
family of Peñalver, and who lies when he says it. He is an English
peer like you, Montague, like you, Chandos, like Stanley, like
Norfolk, like myself, like the King! He has the garter, the same as
the Infante of Portugal, as the King of Denmark, as Thomas Percy,
seventh Earl of Northumberland. And what a tyrant is this tyrant who
rules us from his bed! Never did such a curse rest upon England! And
yet I have seen much--I, who am old! There are seventy new gallows at
Tyburn; the stakes are always embers and never ashes; the
executioner's ax is sharp every morning and blunted every night.
Every day some great nobleman is slaughtered; the day before
yesterday it was Blantyre, yesterday Northcurry, to-day South-Reppo,
to-morrow Tyrconnel. Next week it will be you, Chandos, and next
month it will be I. My lords, my lords, it is shameful and outrageous
that all these honest English heads should fall to please a miserable
adventurer who does not even belong to our country! It is a frightful
and unbearable thing, to think that a Neapolitan favorite can drag as
many blocks as he likes from under this Queen's bed. These two lead a
gay life, you say? By Heaven, it is infamous! Ah, they lead a gay
life, these lovers, while the headsman, at their door, makes widows
and orphans! Oh, their Italian guitar is too well accompanied by the
clank of chains! Madame Queen! you send to the chapel of Avignon for
your singers; every day in your palace, you have comedies, plays, and
a stage crowded with musicians! Upon my life, madame, less joy at
your house and less mourning at ours, if you please; fewer dancers
there, and fewer executioners here; fewer farces at Westminster, and
fewer scaffolds at Tyburn!
LORD MONTAGUE.
Have a care, my Lord Clinton! We are loyal subjects! Not a word
against the Queen, everything against Fabiani.
SIMON RENARD (_laying his hand on Lord Clinton's shoulder_).
Have patience!
LORD CLINTON.
Patience! That is easy enough for you to say, Mr. Simon Renard! You
are bailiff of Amont in Franche-Comte, subject of the Emperor, and
his embassador at London. You represent the Prince of Spain, the
Queen's future husband. Your person is sacred to the favorite. But it
is different with us. You see, for you, Fabiani is the lover; for us
he is the butcher! [_It is night._
SIMON RENARD.
This man troubles me as much as you! You tremble only for your life.
I tremble for my power. That means much more. I do not talk; I act. I
feel less anger than you, perhaps, but I feel more hate. I will
destroy the favorite.
LORD MONTAGUE.
Yes! but how to do it! I think of it all day.
SIMON RENARD.
It is not in the daytime that the favorites of queens are made and
unmade; it is at night.
LORD CHANDOS.
This night is dark and frightful.
SIMON RENARD.
I find it good for what I wish to do.
LORD CHANDOS.
What do you mean to do?
SIMON RENARD.
You shall see. My Lord Chandos, when a woman reigns, caprice reigns.
Politics are no longer a matter of calculation then, but of chance.
You can count upon nothing. To-day does not logically bring
to-morrow. Public affairs are no longer like a game of chess, but a
game of cards.
LORD CLINTON.
That is all very well; but let us come to the point. When will you
deliver us from the favorite? Time is pressing. To-morrow Tyrconnel
will be beheaded.
SIMON RENARD.
If I find the man I am looking for, to-night, Tyrconnel will sup with
you to-morrow.
LORD CLINTON.
What do you mean? What will have become of Fabiani?
SIMON RENARD.
Have you good eyes, my lord?
LORD CLINTON.
Yes, although I am old and the night is dark.
SIMON RENARD.
Do you see London on the other side of the water?
LORD CLINTON.
Yes. Why?
SIMON RENARD.
Look well! From here you can see the height and the depth of every
favorite's fortune--Westminster and the Tower of London.
LORD CLINTON.
Well?
SIMON RENARD.
If God is with me, there is a man who at this moment is yet there
[_pointing to Westminster_], and who to-morrow, at the same time,
will be here [_pointing to the Tower_].
LORD CLINTON.
Pray God be with you!
LORD MONTAGUE.
The people hate him no less than we do. What a festival will his fall
make in London!
LORD CHANDOS.
We have placed ourselves in your hands, Sir Bailiff. Dispose of us.
What must we do?
SIMON RENARD (_indicating a house, near to the water_).
You all see that house. It is the house of Gilbert the engraver. Do
not lose sight of it. Now go away with your people, but don't go too
far. Above all, do nothing without me.
LORD CHANDOS.
It is agreed. [_They all exit at different sides._
SIMON RENARD (_alone_).
The man I need is not easy to find.
[_He exits. Jane and Gilbert enter, arm in arm; they go toward
the house. Joshua Farnaby, enveloped in a long cloak, accompanies
them._
SCENE II
Jane, Gilbert, Joshua Farnaby
JOSHUA.
I must leave you here, my good friends. It is midnight, and I must go
back to my post of turnkey of the Tower of London. I am not as free
as you are, you see! A turnkey is only another kind of prisoner!
Good-by, Jane! Good-by, Gilbert. Ah, my friends, how glad I am to see
you happy! When is the wedding, Gilbert?
GILBERT.
In one week, isn't it, Jane?
JOSHUA.
Faith! day after to-morrow is Christmas. This is the day of good
wishes and presents. But I have nothing to wish you. It would be
impossible to wish more beauty to the bride or more love to the
bridegroom. You are fortunate.
GILBERT.
Good Joshua! And you, are you not happy?
JOSHUA.
Neither happy nor unhappy. As for me, I have given up everything.
Look you, Gilbert [_opening his cloak and disclosing a bunch of keys
hanging to his belt_], prison keys always jingling at your side, talk
to you, suggest all sorts of philosophical ideas to you. When I was
young, I was like the rest--in love for a day, ambitious for a month,
mad a whole year. It was during the reign of Henry VIII. that I was
young. Strange man that Henry VIII.! A man who changed his wives as a
woman changes her dresses. He repudiated the first, had the second
beheaded, had the third's womb cut open; as for the fourth, he had
mercy on her--he sent her off; but for revenge he had the fifth's
head cut off! This isn't the story of Bluebeard I am telling you, my
beautiful Jane; it is the history of Henry VIII. In those days I
interested myself in the religious wars; I fought first for one side
and then for the other. That was the wisest thing to do. The whole
business was very ticklish. It was whether to be for or against the
Pope. The King's officers hanged those who were for, but they burned
those who were against. The neutral people--those who neither were
for nor against--they hanged them or they burned them
indiscriminately. We managed as we could. Yes, the rope; no, the
fagot. I, who am speaking to you, I smelled of burning very often,
and I am not sure that I was not un-hanged two or three times. Those
were great times; very much like the times now. The devil take me if
I know now whom I fought for or what I fought about. If people speak
to me now about Master Luther and Pope Paul III., I shrug my
shoulders. You see, Gilbert, when a man has gray hairs he shouldn't
go back to the opinions he fought for nor the women he loved when he
was twenty. The women and the opinions will seem very ugly, very old,
very paltry, very silly, very much wrinkled and out of date. Such is
my history. Now I am through with public affairs. I am no longer the
King's soldier nor the Pope's soldier; I am jailer of the Tower of
London. I don't fight any more for anybody, and I put everybody under
lock and key. I am turnkey and I am old. I have one foot in a prison
and the other in the grave. I am the one who picks up the remnants of
all the ministers and favorites who go to pieces in the Queen's
palace. It is very amusing. I have also a little child whom I love,
and you both whom I love too; and if you are happy, I am happy also.
GILBERT.
If that is the case, you can be happy; can't he, Jane?
JOSHUA.
I can't do anything to add to your happiness, but Jane can do
everything. You love her. I may never be able to do anything for you.
Fortunately for you, you are not high and mighty enough to ever need
the help of the turnkey of the Tower of London. Jane will pay my debt
at the same time that she pays her own, because she and I owe
everything to you. Jane was but a poor child, a forsaken orphan; you
took her home and brought her up. I was drowning in the Thames, one
fine day, and you dragged me out of the water.
GILBERT.
Why do you always talk about that, Joshua?
JOSHUA.
In order to tell you that our duty, Jane's and mine, is to love you.
I, as a brother; and she, not as a sister.
JANE.
No, as a woman. I understand you, Joshua. [_She sinks back into her
reverie._
GILBERT.
Look at her, Joshua! Is she not beautiful and attractive, and is she
not worthy of a king? If you only knew! You cannot imagine how I love
her!
JOSHUA.
Be careful! It is dangerous. A woman should not be loved so much as
that. With a child, it is different.
GILBERT.
What do you mean?
JOSHUA.
Nothing. I will be at your wedding next week. I hope State affairs
will leave me a little liberty then, and that everything will be
finished.
GILBERT.
How? What will be finished?
JOSHUA.
Ah, these things do not interest you, Gilbert. You are in love; you
belong to the people. What do the intrigues of the high-born matter
to you, who are happy among the low-born? But since you ask me, I
will tell you that within one week, perhaps within twenty-four hours,
it is hoped that Fabiano Fabiani's place near the Queen will be
filled by another.
GILBERT.
Who is Fabiano Fabiani?
JOSHUA.
The Queen's lover: a very celebrated and a very fascinating
favorite--a favorite who has had his enemies' heads chopped off with
greater dispatch than a procuress can repeat an "Ave"; the best
favorite that the executioner of the Tower of London has had for ten
years. For you must know that every great lord's head that falls,
brings in ten silver crowns to the executioner--sometimes twice as
much, when the head is very distinguished. The fall of this Fabiani
is greatly desired; though, I must say, during my duties at the
Tower, it is only the bad-tempered people whom I hear find fault with
him--the discontented people; those whose heads are to fall next
month.
GILBERT.
Let the wolves rend each other! What do we care about the Queen and
the Queen's favorite? Isn't it so, Jane?
JOSHUA.
There is a big conspiracy against Fabiani; if he escapes, he will be
lucky. I should not be surprised if they were to strike some blow
to-night. I just saw Master Simon Renard prowling about here, very
much absorbed.
GILBERT.
Who is Master Simon Renard?
JOSHUA.
Is it possible that you don't know? He is the Emperor's right hand at
London. The Queen is to marry the Prince of Spain, and Simon Renard
is his embassador to her. The Queen hates him, this Simon Renard; but
she is afraid of him, and she can't do anything to him. He has
already destroyed two or three favorites. It seems to be his instinct
to destroy favorites. He clears up the palace from time to time. He
is a shrewd and spiteful man; he knows all that goes on, and he digs
two or three subterranean rows of intrigues under every event. As for
Lord Paget--didn't you ask me who was Lord Paget?--he is a crafty
nobleman who helped to manage affairs under Henry VIII. He is a
member of the secret council. He has such an ascendency that the
other ministers do not dare to breathe in his presence--except,
however, the chancellor, my Lord Gardiner, who detests him. A violent
man, this Gardiner, and well born. As for Paget, he was nobody--a
cobbler's son. He is to be made Baron Paget of Beaudesert in
Stafford.
GILBERT.
How glibly he tells all these things, this Joshua.
JOSHUA.
My faith! It's from hearing the prisoners of State talk.
[_Simon Renard appears at the back of stage._
You see, Gilbert, the man who knows most about the history of these
times is the turnkey of the Tower of London.
Simon Renard (_who overhears these last words_).
You are mistaken, my master; it is the executioner!
JOSHUA (_low to Gilbert and Jane_).
Let us move back a little!
[_Simon Renard goes off slowly; when he has disappeared._
That is Master Simon Renard himself.
GILBERT.
I don't like to have all these men prowling about my house.
JOSHUA.
What the devil is he doing here? I must hurry back; I think he is
getting work ready for me. Good-by, Gilbert! Good-by, my beautiful
Jane, I knew you when you were no bigger than that, all the same!
GILBERT.
Good-by, Joshua! What are you hiding there under your cloak?
JOSHUA.
I've got my conspiracy, too!
GILBERT.
What conspiracy?
JOSHUA.
O lover who forgets everything else! I have just reminded you that
the day after to-morrow is the time for Christmas presents. The
nobles are plotting a surprise for Fabiani. Well, I am plotting a
surprise too. The Queen may give herself the present of a brand-new
favorite. I am going to give my child a doll. [_He takes a doll from
his cloak._] Brand-new, too! We will see which will be the first to
break her toy. God keep you, my friends.
GILBERT.
Good-by, Joshua!
[Joshua _departs_. Gilbert _takes_ Jane's _hand and kisses it
with passion_.
JOSHUA (_from back of stage_).
How wise is Providence! She gives to each one his plaything. The doll
to the child, the child to the man, the man to the woman, and the
woman to the devil. [_Exits._
SCENE III
Gilbert, Jane
GILBERT.
I must go, too. Good-by, Jane: sleep well.
JANE.
You are not coming in with me to-night, Gilbert?
GILBERT.
I can't. You know, I told you before, Jane, I have some work to do in
my shop to-night. I must engrave the handle of a dagger for some Lord
Clanbrassil, whom I have never seen, and who wants it to-morrow
morning.
JANE.
Then good-night, Gilbert. Until to-morrow!
GILBERT.
No, Jane, wait a moment. Heaven! how it hurts me to leave you, even
for a few hours. How true it is that you are my life and my joy. Yet
I have to work--we are so poor. I won't go in, because I should stay;
and yet I can't leave you, weak man that I am. Let us sit down by the
door a few moments, on this bench. I think it will be easier to go
from here than if I went into the house, and, above all, into your
room. Give me your hand.
[_He sits and takes her hands in his; she stands._
Jane, do you love me?
JANE.
Oh, I owe you everything, Gilbert. I know it, although you have
concealed it from me a long time! When I was little, almost in my
cradle, my parents abandoned me, and you took me. For sixteen years
your hand has worked for me as if you were a father; your eyes have
watched over me like a mother. What would I be without you, just
Heaven! All I have, you have given me; all I am, you have made me.
GILBERT.
Jane, do you love me?
JANE.
What devotion yours has been, Gilbert! You work for me, night and
day; you wear your eyes out, you kill yourself for me. You are going
to sit up all night again to-night. And never a reproach to me, never
an unkindness, never an angry word! You are very poor, yet you
remember all my small womanly vanities; you gratify them. Gilbert,
whenever I think about you, my eyes fill with tears. You have often
gone without bread; I have never gone without my ribbons.
GILBERT.
Jane, do you love me?
JANE.
Gilbert, I would like to kneel down and kiss your feet.
GILBERT.
Do you love me, do you love me? All that does not prove that you love
me. I want that word, Jane! Gratitude, always gratitude! Oh, I stamp
it underfoot, your gratitude. I want love or nothing! Die! Jane, you
have been my daughter for sixteen years; now you are to be my wife. I
adopted you; now I am to marry you--in one week. You know, you
promised me; you have consented; you are my betrothed. You loved me
when you promised that. Oh, Jane, there was a time--do you remember
it?--when you told me, "I love you," and you lifted your sweet eyes
to heaven. That is the way I want you to be. For some months now, you
have seemed different, especially during these last three weeks that
my work has kept me away from here nights. Jane, I must have you love
me! I am used to it. You were always so light-hearted; now you are
sad and absent-minded--not cold, my poor child (you try your best not
to be), but I feel your loving words do not come as tenderly and as
naturally as they used. What is the matter? Don't you love me any
more? I know I am an honest man, I know I am a good workman; but I
would rather be a robber and an assassin, and be loved by you. Jane,
if you knew how much I love you!
JANE.
I know it, Gilbert, and it makes me weep.
GILBERT.
For joy, isn't it? Say it is for joy! Oh, I need to believe it. There
is only that in the world--to be loved. I have only a poor
workingman's heart, but my Jane must love me. Why do you always talk
to me about what I have done for you? One single word of love from
you puts all the gratitude on my side. I will damn myself and commit
a crime, whenever you wish it. You will be my wife, won't you, and
you love me? Oh, Jane, for one look of your eyes I would give my work
and my labor; for one smile, my life; for one kiss, my soul.
JANE.
What a noble heart you have, Gilbert.
GILBERT.
Listen to me, Jane--laugh at me if you will; I am mad, I am jealous!
I will tell you why. Do not get angry! It seems to me, for some time
I have seen several young lords prowling around here. Do you know,
Jane, I am thirty-two years old. For a poor, clumsy, badly-dressed
workman like myself, who am no longer young, who am not handsome,
what a misery it is to love a charming, beautiful girl of seventeen,
who attracts all the handsome, gold-bedizened young nobles around
her, as a light attracts the butterflies. Oh, I suffer; indeed, I do!
But I never blame you, even in my thoughts! You, so honest, so pure;
you, whose brow has never been touched, except by my lips. I only
feel, sometimes, that you look on the Queen's cavalcades and retinues
with too much pleasure, that you enjoy too much the fine suits of
velvet and satin, under which there are no hearts, no souls. Forgive
me. My God! why do so many young noblemen come around here? Why am I
not handsome, young, noble, rich? Gilbert the engraver--that is all I
am! They are Lord Chandos, Lord Gerard Fitz-Gerard, Earl of Arundel,
the Duke of Norfolk! Oh, how I hate them! I spend my life engraving
the handles of their swords, which I would like to plunge into their
bowels.
JANE.
Gilbert!
GILBERT.
I beg your pardon, Jane! Love makes us very wicked, doesn't it?
JANE.
No, very good; for you are good, Gilbert.
GILBERT.
Oh, how much I love you! It increases every day. I would like to die
for you! Love me or not, you can do as you please. I am mad. Forgive
all that I have said. It is late: I must leave you! Good-by! Oh, how
I hate to leave you! Go in! Haven't you your key?
JANE.
No; I haven't had it for several days.
GILBERT.
Take mine. Until to-morrow morning! Jane, don't forget this! To-day I
am still your father: in one week I shall be your husband.
[_He kisses her on the forehead and exits._
JANE (_alone_).
My husband! Oh, no! I will never commit that crime. Poor Gilbert! he
loves me truly; and the other--ah, provided I have not preferred
vanity to love! Unhappy woman that I am, into whose power have I
fallen! Oh, I am most thankless and most guilty! I hear footsteps!
Let me get in quickly. [_Goes into house._
SCENE IV
_Gilbert, A Man enveloped in cloak and wearing a yellow cap. The
Man holds Gilbert by the hand_
GILBERT.
Yes, I recognize you; you are the Jewish beggar who has been prowling
around this house for several days. What do you want with me? Why
have you taken hold of my hand, and why have you brought me back
here?
THE MAN.
Because what I have to say to you, I can only say here.
GILBERT.
Well, what is it? Speak! Hurry!
THE MAN.
Listen, young man. One night, sixteen years ago, Lord Talbot, Earl of
Waterford, was beheaded by torchlight, for the crimes of popery and
rebellion, while his followers were cut to pieces in the city of
London by Henry VIII.'s soldiers. They shot in the streets all night.
That night a very young workman, who was much more interested in his
labor than in the battle, was working in his stall. It was the first
stall from the entrance of London Bridge; a low door on the right,
the remains of some old red paint on the wall. It might have been two
o'clock in the morning. They were fighting all around there. The
balls hissed across the Thames. Suddenly some one knocked at the door
of the stall, through which the workman's lamp threw a glimmer. The
workman opened it. A man he did not know, entered. This man carried
in his arms a baby in long clothes, who was much frightened and was
crying. The man put the child down on the table and said, "Here is a
creature who has neither father nor mother." Then he went out slowly
and closed the door after him. Gilbert, the workman, had neither
father nor mother himself. The workman accepted the child: the orphan
adopted the orphan. He took it, watched over it, clothed it, fed it,
tended it, brought it up, loved it. He gave himself entirely to this
poor little creature whom civil war had thrown into his stall. He
forgot everything for her--his youth, his love-affairs, his
pleasures; he made this child the sole object of his work, his
affections, his life: and it has lasted sixteen years. Gilbert, the
workman was you; the child--
GILBERT.
Was Jane. All that you say is true; but what are you driving at?
THE MAN.
I forgot to say that on the child's swaddling-clothes a paper was
pinned, on which was written: "Have pity upon Jane."
GILBERT.
It was written in blood. I have kept that paper. I always carry it
about me. But you torture me. What is your purpose, tell me.
THE MAN.
This. You see that I am acquainted with your affairs. Gilbert, watch
over your house to-night.
GILBERT.
What do you mean?
THE MAN.
Not another word. Don't go to your work; stay around the house:
watch! I am neither your friend nor your enemy; this is only a piece
of advice that I give you. Now, for your own sake, leave me! Go down
that side, and come back if you hear me call for help.
GILBERT.
What does this mean? [_Goes off slowly._
SCENE V
THE MAN (_alone_).
The matter is well arranged now. I needed some one young and strong
to help me if it was necessary. This Gilbert is just the man I want.
I think I hear the sound of oars and a guitar on the water. Yes.
[_He goes to the parapet. A guitar and distant singing are heard._
When you sing soft at night, love,
Clasped in my arms so fond,
Can you not hear the tender thoughts
Which to your voice respond?
Your song brings back unto my heart
The happy days of yore;
Then sing, my beauty, sing, my love,
Sing on for evermore!
THE MAN.
That is my man!
[_The voice draws nearer with each verse._
When you laugh, on your lips, dear,
Love's sweetest shadows play;
And doubt and cruel unbelief
Are sudden chased away.
For laughter proves we're loyal
And faithful to the core;
Then laugh, my beauty, laugh, my love,
Laugh on for evermore!
When you sleep, calm and pure, love,
In shadow, 'neath my eyes,
And your soft breathing gives my heart
Its tenderest replies,
On your sweet form my eyes can feast,
Oh, beauty's priceless store!
Then sleep, my beauty, sleep, my love,
Sleep on for evermore!
And when you say, "I love you,"
In truth it seems to be
As if God's heaven were opening
Especially for me.
I see dreams hidden in your eyes
That we've not dreamed before;
Then love me, oh, my beauty,
Love me for evermore!
You see, the whole of life, dear,
Lies in those words, just four--
All things that people envy,
All things that men adore,
All things that are seductive,
On which our heart sets store.
To sing, to laugh, my beauty,
To sleep, to love, no more!
THE MAN.
He lands! Good! He sends off the boatmen. Excellent!
[_Comes back to the front of the stage._
Here he comes.
[_Fabiano Fabiani enters, enveloped in a cloak; he goes toward the
door of the house._
SCENE VI
The Man, Fabiano Fabiani
THE MAN (_stopping_ Fabiani).
A word with you, if you please.
FABIANI.
I believe some one is speaking to me. Who is this knave? Who are you?
THE MAN.
Whatever you wish me to be.
FABIANI.
This lantern is not very bright, but you wear a yellow cap, it seems
to me--a Jew's cap. Are you a Jew?
THE MAN.
Yes, a Jew. I have something to tell you.
FABIANI.
What is your name?
THE MAN.
I know your name, and you don't know mine. I have the advantage.
Permit me to keep it.
FABIANI.
You know my name? That isn't true.
THE MAN.
I know your name. At Naples you were called Signor Fabiani; at
Madrid, Don Fabiano; at London you are called Lord Fabiano Fabiani,
Earl of Clanbrassil.
FABIANI.
The devil take you!
THE MAN.
God keep you!
FABIANI.
I will have you cudgeled. I do not wish my name to be known when I go
abroad by night.
THE MAN.
Especially when you go where you are going.
FABIANI.
What do you mean?
THE MAN.
If the Queen knew!
FABIANI.
I am going nowhere in particular.
THE MAN.
Oh, yes, my lord! You are going to see the fair Jane, the betrothed
of Gilbert the engraver.
FABIANI (_aside_).
The devil! This is a dangerous man.
THE MAN.
Shall I tell you more? You have seduced this girl, and during the
last month she has received you twice in her house at night. This is
the third time. The beauty is waiting for you.
FABIANI.
Keep still. Do you want hush-money? How much do you want?
THE MAN.
We will see about that by-and-by. Now, my lord, shall I tell you why
you have seduced this girl?
FABIANI.
By my faith! because I was in love with her.
THE MAN.
No. You were not in love with her.
FABIANI.
I wasn't in love with Jane.
THE MAN.
No more than with the Queen! Love, oh, no! calculation, yes.
FABIANI.
Why, fool, you are no man at all! You are my conscience dressed up
like a Jew.
THE MAN.
I will speak to you as if I were your conscience. This is your plan.
You are the Queen's favorite. The Queen has given you the garter, an
earldom, and a lordship--empty things, all of them. The garter is a
rag; the earldom is a word; the lordship is the right to have your
head cut off. You wanted something more. You wanted fine lands, fine
bailiwicks, fine castles, fine revenues in fine English pounds. Well,
King Henry VIII. confiscated the estates of Lord Talbot, who was
beheaded sixteen years ago. You got Queen Mary to give you Lord
Talbot's estates. But, to make the gift valid, it is necessary that
Lord Talbot should have died without heirs. And since Lord Talbot
died for Queen Mary and for her mother, Catherine of Aragon, since
Lord Talbot was a Papist, and since the Queen is a Papist, it is not
at all doubtful, if there existed such an heir or an heiress, that
Queen Mary would take back the estates from you, great favorite
though you are, and out of duty, gratitude and religion, return them
to the heir or heiress. You were quite easy on that score, for Lord
Talbot had never had but one little daughter; she disappeared from
her cradle at the time of her father's execution, and all England
believed her to be dead. But your spies have lately discovered that
during the night in which Lord Talbot and his partisans were
exterminated by Henry VIII., a child was mysteriously brought to an
engraver on London Bridge, and that it was probable that this child,
reared under the name of Jane, was Jane Talbot, the little girl who
had disappeared. It is true that the written proofs of her birth were
lacking, but they might be found any day. The discovery was
unpleasant. It would be hard to see one's self forced some day to
give back Shrewsbury, Wexford, which is a fine city, and the
magnificent earldom of Waterford, to a little girl! What was to be
done? You searched for a way to set aside this young girl, and to
destroy her. An honest man would have had her killed or poisoned.
You, my lord, have done better--you have dishonored her.
FABIANI.
Insolent fool!
THE MAN.
It is your conscience which is speaking, my lord. Another man would
have taken this young girl's life; you have taken her honor, and,
consequently, her future. Queen Mary is a prude, although she has
lovers herself.
FABIANI.
This man goes to the bottom of everything.
THE MAN.
The Queen's health is bad; the Queen may die, and then you, the
favorite, will fall shattered on her tomb. The actual proofs of this
young girl's rank may be found; and then, if the Queen is dead, Jane
Talbot, dishonored though she be, will be recognized as Lord Talbot's
heiress. You have foreseen that too. You are a handsome young
cavalier; you have won her love; she has given herself to you; at the
worst, you can marry her. Don't deprecate your scheme, my lord; I
consider it sublime. If I were not myself, I would like to be you.
FABIANI.
Thank you.
THE MAN.
You have managed the matter very skillfully. You have concealed your
name. You are safe as far as the Queen is concerned. The poor girl
thinks she has been seduced by a nobleman from Somerset county, named
Amyas Pawlet.
FABIANI.
All--he knows it all! Well, come to the point. What do you want of
me?
THE MAN.
My lord, suppose some one had in his possession the papers which
prove the birth, existence, and rights of Talbot's heiress! It would
make you as poor as my ancestor Job, Don Fabiano, and would leave you
no better castles than your castles in Spain, which would be very
hard for you.
FABIANI.
Yes! But no one has those papers.
THE MAN.
Yes. Some one has them.
FABIANI.
Who?
THE MAN.
I.
FABIANI.
You, miserable wretch! It isn't true! Jew speaks, Jew lies.
THE MAN.
I have got the papers.
FABIANI.
You lie! Where have you got them?
THE MAN.
In my pocket.
FABIANI.
I don't believe you. Are they all in order? Nothing lacking?
THE MAN.
Nothing is lacking.
FABIANI.
Then I must have them.
THE MAN.
Gently.
FABIANI.
Jew, give me those papers!
THE MAN.
Excellent! Jew, miserable beggar who crawls through the streets, give
me the city of Shrewsbury, give me the city of Wexford, give me the
earldom of Waterford! Charity, if you please!
FABIANI.
Those papers are everything to me and nothing to you.
THE MAN.
Simon Renard and Lord Chandos would pay me pretty high for them.
FABIANI.
Simon Renard and Lord Chandos are two dogs between whom I will have
you hanged.
THE MAN.
You have nothing else to say to me? Then farewell.
FABIANI.
Come back! What do you want me to give you for those papers?
THE MAN.
Something which you have with you.
FABIANI.
My purse?
THE MAN.
Out upon you! Do you want mine?
FABIANI.
What then?
THE MAN.
There is a parchment which never leaves you. It is a signature in
blank which the Queen gave you, and in which she swears, upon her
Catholic crown, to grant any favor he may ask, to the one who
presents it. Give me that signature in blank, and you shall have Jane
Talbot's titles. Paper for paper.
FABIANI.
What do you want to do with this signature in blank?
THE MAN.
I will explain. Cards on the table, my lord. I have told you your
affairs; now I will tell you mine. I am one of the principal
money-dealers in Kantersten Street, Brussels. I lend money; it is my
business. I lend ten and get back fifteen. I lend to every one: I
would lend to the devil; I would lend to the Pope. Two months ago one
of my creditors died, without paying me. It was an old exiled servant
of the Talbot family. The poor man left nothing but a few rags: I
seized them. Among these rags I found a box, and in the box some
papers--Jane Talbot's papers, my lord, giving her entire history in
detail and furnishing proofs for better times. The Queen of England
had just given you Jane Talbot's estates. I was in great need of the
Queen of England at that time, for I wanted to make a loan of ten
thousand gold marks. I realized that I might do business with you. I
came to England in this disguise; I made myself a spy upon you, upon
Jane Talbot. I did it all myself. In this way I learned everything,
and here I am. You shall have Jane Talbot's papers if you give me the
Queen's signature in blank. I will write upon it that the Queen shall
give me ten thousand gold marks. They owe me something at the
excise-office, but I won't haggle. Ten thousand gold marks--nothing
more. I don't ask you for the sum, because only a crowned head could
pay it. I am speaking frankly, you see. Two men as clever as we are,
my lord, have nothing to gain by deceiving each other. If frankness
were banished from the earth, it would be re-discovered in a
_tête-à-tête_ between two rogues.
FABIANI.
Impossible! I can't give you this signature in blank. Ten thousand
gold marks! What would the Queen say? And then, to-morrow I may be
disgraced: this signature in blank is my safeguard. This signature in
blank is my head.
THE MAN.
What does that matter to me?
FABIANI.
Ask me for something else.
THE MAN.
I want that.
FABIANI.
Jew, give me Jane Talbot's papers.
THE MAN.
My lord, give me the Queen's signature in blank.
FABIANI.
Accursed Jew, I will have to yield. [_Draws a paper from his pocket._
THE MAN.
Show me the Queen's signature in blank.
FABIANI.
Show me Talbot's papers.
THE MAN.
Afterward.
[_They go close to the lantern. Fabiani stands behind the Jew, and
with his left hand holds the paper under the Jew's eyes; he examines
it. The Man reads._
"We, Mary, Queen--" It is well. You see, my lord, I am like you. I
have calculated upon everything. I have foreseen everything.
FABIANI (_draws a dagger with his right hand and plunges it into the
Jew's throat_).
Except this!
THE MAN.
Oh, traitor! Help!
[_He falls. In falling he throws a sealed packet into the darkness
behind him; Fabiani does not perceive it._
FABIANI (_leaning over the body_).
Faith! I believe he is dead. Quick, the papers. [_He searches the
Jew._] What! he hasn't got them. He has nothing--nothing at all about
him! Not a paper! He was lying, the old wretch! He deceived me: he
wanted to rob me. Is it possible, you accursed Jew! No, he has
nothing. That is clear. I have killed him for nothing. They are all
alike, these Jews. To lie and steal, that is all they can do. Come,
let us get rid of this corpse; I can't leave it here at the door.
[_Goes up stage._] I will see if the boatman is still there; he can
help me throw it into the Thames.
[_He descends, and disappears behind the parapet._
GILBERT (_enters from the opposite side_).
I thought I heard a cry!
[_He perceives the body stretched upon the ground under the lantern._
Some one has been assassinated! The beggar!
THE MAN (_lifting himself half-way up_).
Ah, you come too late, Gilbert.
[_He points to the place where he threw the packet._
Take them. They are the papers which prove that Jane, your betrothed,
is daughter and heiress of the last Lord Talbot. My assassin is Lord
Clanbrassil, the Queen's favorite. Oh, I suffocate! Gilbert, avenge
me! Avenge yourself! [_He dies._
GILBERT.
Dead! Avenge myself? What does he mean? Jane, daughter to Lord
Talbot? Lord Clanbrassil! The Queen's favorite? Oh, I am lost in
wonder! [_Shaking the body._] Speak! One word more! He is indeed
dead!
SCENE VII
Gilbert, Fabiani
FABIANI (_returning_).
Who goes there?
GILBERT.
A man has been assassinated.
FABIANI.
No, a Jew.
GILBERT.
Who killed him?
FABIANI.
Faith! You or I.
GILBERT.
Sir?
FABIANI.
No witnesses. A corpse on the ground. Two men beside it. Which is the
assassin? There is nothing to prove it is one rather than the
other--I rather than you.
GILBERT.
Miserable man! You are the assassin!
FABIANI.
Well, yes! To be frank, I am. What of it?
GILBERT.
I am going to call the constables.
FABIANI.
You are going to help me throw the body into the water.
GILBERT.
I will have you seized and punished.
FABIANI.
You will help me throw the body into the water.
GILBERT.
You are insolent.
FABIANI.
Do as I say! Let us destroy all traces of this. Believe me, you are
more interested in the matter than I am.
GILBERT.
Upon my soul!
FABIANI.
One of us two did the deed. I am a great lord, a nobleman. You are a
passer-by, a peasant, a man of the people. A noble who kills a Jew
pays a fine of four sous; a man of the people who kills one of his
fellow-creatures is hanged.
GILBERT.
You would dare--
FABIANI.
If you denounce me, I will denounce you. I will be believed sooner
than you. At any rate, the chances are unequal. Four sous fine for
me, and the gallows for you.
GILBERT.
No witnesses! No proofs! Oh, my brain is bewildered! This miserable
man is right, he has me in his power.
FABIANI.
Shall I help you throw the corpse into the river?
GILBERT.
You are a demon!
[_Gilbert takes the body up by the head, Fabiani by the feet;
they carry it to the parapet._
FABIANI.
Yes. Faith, my friend, I can no longer exactly tell which of us
killed this man!
[_They go down behind the parapet. Fabiani re-appears._
It is done. Good-night, comrade! Go your way!
[_He starts toward the house, but turns back, seeing that Gilbert
follows him._
Well, what do you want? Money for your trouble? In truth, I don't owe
you anything, but here, take this.
[_He gives his purse to Gilbert, whose first impulse is to refuse
it, but who accepts it afterward with the air of a man who has
reflected._
Well, go! What more are you waiting for?
GILBERT.
Nothing.
FABIANI.
Then stay, if it pleases you. You can have the fine starlight while I
have the pretty girl. God be with you!
[_He starts toward the door of the house and is about to open it._
GILBERT.
Where are you going?
FABIANI.
Faith, into my house!
GILBERT.
How? Into your house!
FABIANI.
That is what I said.
GILBERT.
Which of us two is dreaming? A short time ago you told me that I was
the Jew's assassin! Now you tell me that that house is yours.
FABIANI.
Or that of my mistress, which amounts to the same thing.
GILBERT.
Repeat what you have just said.
FABIANI.
My friend, I say, since you wish to know, that this house belongs to
a beautiful girl named Jane, who is my mistress.
GILBERT.
And I tell you, my lord, that you lie! I tell you that you are a liar
and an assassin! I tell you that you are an insolent knave! I tell
you, you have pronounced some fatal words which will kill us
both--you, for having said them: me, for having heard them.
FABIANI.
Dear me! Who the devil is this man?
GILBERT.
I am Gilbert the engraver. Jane is my betrothed.
FABIANI.
And I am the Chevalier Amyas Pawlet. Jane is my mistress.
GILBERT.
You lie, I tell you! You are Lord Clanbrassil, the Queen's favorite.
Don't you think I know that, fool!
FABIANI (_aside_).
Everybody seems to know me to-night. Another dangerous man, whom we
must get rid of.
GILBERT.
Tell me instantly that you have lied like a coward, and that Jane is
not your mistress!
FABIANI.
Do you know her writing?
[_He takes a note from his pocket._
Read this!
[_Aside, while Gilbert tremblingly unfolds the paper._
If he would go in and quarrel with Jane, it would give my people time
to get here.
GILBERT (_reading_).
"I will be alone to-night. You can come." Malediction! My lord, you
have dishonored my betrothed, you are an infamous wretch! I demand my
revenge.
FABIANI (_putting his hand to his sword_).
Willingly! Where is your sword?
GILBERT.
Oh, fury! To be one of the people! To have nothing--neither sword nor
dagger. Well, you can go; but I will wait for you at night, in a
corner of the street, and I will stick my nails into your throat, and
I will assassinate you, you villain!
FABIANI.
Dear me! How violent you are, my friend.
GILBERT.
I will be revenged upon you, my lord!
FABIANI.
You! Revenged upon me? You so low, upon me so high! You are crazy!
I defy you.
GILBERT.
You defy me?
FABIANI.
Yes.
GILBERT.
You shall see.
FABIANI (_aside_).
To-morrow's sun must not rise for this man. [_Aloud._] Friend, listen
to me. Go into your house. I am sorry you found it out, but I leave
the beauty to you. Go in.
[_He throws a key down at Gilbert's feet._
There is a key, if you haven't got one. Or, if you like it better,
you can knock against the shutter three times and Jane will think it
is I, and let you in. Good-night. [_He goes off._
SCENE VIII
GILBERT (_alone_).
He is gone. He is no longer here. I did not grind and crush him
beneath my feet. I had to let him go. Not a weapon about me.
[_He sees on the ground the dagger with which Lord Clanbrassil
killed the Jew; he picks it up with fearful haste._
Ah, you come too late; you can probably kill no one but myself. All
the same, whether you fall from heaven or are vomited up from hell, I
bless you. My Jane has betrayed me! Jane has given herself to this
infamous man. Jane is the heiress of Lord Talbot. Jane is lost to me!
O God! more terrible things have come to me in this hour than my
brain can stand.
[_Simon Renard appears in the darkness at the back._
Oh, to be revenged on that man! To be revenged on this Lord
Clanbrassil! If I go to the Queen's palace, the lackeys will kick me
out as if I were a dog. I am mad! My head will burst! I am willing to
die, but I want to be revenged. I would give my blood for revenge!
Will nobody in the world make this bargain with me? Who will give me
vengeance on Lord Clanbrassil and take my life in payment?
SCENE IX
Gilbert, Simon Renard
SIMON RENARD (_taking a step forward_).
I will.
GILBERT.
You? Who are you?
SIMON RENARD.
The man you want.
GILBERT.
Do you know who I am?
SIMON RENARD.
You are the man I need.
GILBERT.
There is no longer but one thought in my mind, do you know that? To
be revenged on Lord Clanbrassil and to die!
SIMON RENARD.
You shall be revenged on Lord Clanbrassil and you shall die.
GILBERT.
Who ever you may be, I thank you.
SIMON RENARD.
Yes, you shall have the vengeance you desire. But do not forget upon
what condition. I must have your life.
GILBERT.
Take it.
SIMON RENARD.
It is agreed?
GILBERT.
Yes.
SIMON RENARD.
Follow me!
GILBERT.
Where?
SIMON RENARD.
You shall know.
GILBERT.
Remember that you have promised to avenge me!
SIMON RENARD.
Remember that you have promised to die.
SECOND DAY
THE QUEEN
Scene.--_A room in the royal apartment. The gospel open on a
prie-Dieu. The royal crown upon a stool. Side doors. A large door in
the center. A portion of the background concealed by a large
tapestry, representing a grand tournament_
SCENE I
_The Queen, splendidly dressed, reclining upon a couch; Fabiano
Fabiani seated on a folding-chair. Magnificent costume. The garter_
FABIANI (_a guitar in his hands, singing_).
When you sleep, calm and pure, love,
In shadow, 'neath my eyes,
And your soft breathing gives my heart
Its tenderest replies;
On your sweet form my eyes can feast,
Oh, beauty's priceless store!
Then sleep, my beauty, sleep, my love,
Sleep on, for evermore!
And when you say, "I love you,"
In truth, it seems to be
As if God's heaven were opening
Especially for me.
I see dreams hidden in your eyes
That we've not dreamed before;
Then love me, oh, my beauty,
Love me for evermore!
You see, the whole of life, dear,
Lies in those words, just four--
All things that people envy,
All things that men adore,
All things that are seductive
On which our hearts set store,
To sing, to laugh, my beauty,
To sleep, to love, no more!
[_He puts down his guitar._
Oh, I love you more than I can tell, madame! But this Simon
Renard--this Simon Renard, who is more powerful here than you
yourself--I hate him!
THE QUEEN.
I can't help it, my lord; you know that. He is here as the ambassador
of the Prince of Spain, my future husband.
FABIANI.
Your future husband!
THE QUEEN.
Come, my lord, let us not speak of that. I love you! What more do you
wish? Moreover, it is time for you to go, now.
FABIANI.
One moment more, Mary!
THE QUEEN.
It is time for the secret council to meet. Until now, there has been
only a woman here. We must let the Queen enter.
FABIANI.
I wish the woman would keep the Queen waiting at the door.
THE QUEEN.
You wish, do you? You wish, do you? Look at me, my lord! Fabiani, you
have a young and beautiful head!
FABIANI.
It is you who are beautiful, madame. You need only your beauty to be
all-powerful. There is something on your head which tells me you are
the Queen; but it is written plainer on your brow than on your crown!
THE QUEEN.
Flatterer!
FABIANI.
I love you!
THE QUEEN.
You love me, do you not? You love only me? Say it to me again, just
like that, with the same eyes! Alas! we poor women, we never know
just what is passing in a man's heart. We have to trust your eyes;
and the handsomest eyes, Fabiani, are often the most false. But
yours, my lord, are so full of loyalty, so full of candor, so full of
good faith, they could not deceive, those eyes--could they? Yes, my
beautiful page, your glances are artless and sincere. Oh, it would be
shameful to take such heavenly eyes to betray with! Your eyes are the
eyes either of a devil or an angel!
FABIANI.
Neither angel nor devil. A man who loves you!
THE QUEEN.
Who loves the Queen?
FABIANI.
Who loves Mary.
THE QUEEN.
Listen to me, Fabiani. I love you, too. You are young; there are many
beautiful women who smile tenderly on you--I know it. People get
tired of queens as well as of other women.--Don't interrupt me!--If
you ever fall in love with another woman, I want you to tell me about
it.--Don't interrupt me, dear!--I may forgive you, if you tell me
about it. You don't know how much I love you. I don't know myself. It
is true, there are moments when I would rather see you dead than
happy with another; but there are also moments when I would rather
have you happy. Indeed, I don't know why they try to make me out such
a wicked woman!
FABIANI.
I can only be happy with you, Mary! I love no one but you!
THE QUEEN.
Are you sure? Look at me! Are you sure? Oh, I am jealous sometimes! I
imagine--where is the woman who does not think of these
things?--sometimes I imagine that you are false to me. I would like
to be invisible, so that I might follow you, and always know what you
are doing, what you are saying, where you are! In fairy stories they
tell about a ring which makes one invisible; I would give my crown to
have such a ring as that. I keep thinking that you go to see the
beautiful women in the city. Oh, you must not deceive me--indeed, you
must not!
FABIANI.
Banish such thoughts from your mind, madame. I false to you, my love,
my queen, my kind mistress! To do that, I would have to be the most
thankless, the most miserable of men. And I have given you no reason
to think me the most thankless, the most miserable of men. I love
you, Mary; I adore you! I could not even look at another woman! I
love you, I say; but don't you see it in my eyes? There must be some
way to persuade you! Look at me well! Do I look like a man who is
false? When a man deceives a woman, you can see it at once. Women are
seldom mistaken about that. And what a time you choose to tell me
these things--the one moment in my life when I love you the most! It
is true, I am sure I never loved you so much as I do to-day. I am not
speaking to the Queen. What do I care about the Queen? What can she
do to me? She can have my head cut off; what does that amount to?
You, Mary, can break my heart. It isn't your sovereignty that I love,
it is yourself. It is your beautiful white and soft hand that I love
to kiss; it isn't your scepter, madame.
THE QUEEN.
Thank you, my Fabiano. Good-by! Ah, my lord, how young you are! What
beautiful black hair, what a graceful head you have! Come back to me
in an hour.
FABIANI.
What you call an hour, I call a century!
[_He goes out. As soon as he is gone, The Queen rises hastily, goes
to a concealed door, opens it, and ushers in Simon Renard._
SCENE II
The Queen, Simon Renard
THE QUEEN.
Come in, Sir Bailiff! Well, did you stay there? Did you hear him?
SIMON RENARD.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
What do you say to it? Oh, of all men on earth he is the most false,
the most deceitful! What do you say to it?
SIMON RENARD.
I say, madame, that it is plain to be seen his name ends in _i_.
THE QUEEN.
Are you sure that he goes to this woman at night? Did you see him?
SIMON RENARD.
I myself, Chandos, Clinton, Montague. Ten witnesses!
THE QUEEN.
Oh, it is indeed infamous!
SIMON RENARD.
The whole affair will be still better proved to the Queen in a short
time. The young woman is here, as I told your Majesty. I had her
brought from her house last night.
THE QUEEN.
Isn't this a sufficient crime for his execution, sir?
SIMON RENARD.
What! To go to see a pretty girl by night! Oh, no, madame! Your
Majesty had Frogmorton tried for a similar crime. Frogmorton was
acquitted.
THE QUEEN.
I punished Frogmorton's judges.
SIMON RENARD.
Try not to have to punish Fabiani's judges.
THE QUEEN.
How shall I revenge myself on this traitor?
SIMON RENARD.
Your Majesty wants only a certain kind of revenge?
THE QUEEN.
The only kind worthy of me!
SIMON RENARD.
Frogmorton was acquitted, madame. There is only one way. I have
explained it to your Majesty. The man who is there!
THE QUEEN.
Will he do whatever I wish?
SIMON RENARD.
If you do all that he wishes.
THE QUEEN.
Will he give his life?
SIMON RENARD.
He will make his own conditions, but he will give his life.
THE QUEEN.
What does he want? Do you know?
SIMON RENARD.
What you yourself want--revenge!
THE QUEEN.
Bid him come in, but stay you out there, within call, Sir Bailiff.
SIMON RENARD (_coming back_).
Madame!
THE QUEEN.
Tell my Lord Chandos to hold himself in the next room, with six men
of my ordinance, in readiness to appear. And the woman also, let her
be ready to appear. Go.
[_Simon Renard goes out._
Oh! it would be frightful!
[_The Queen alone. A side door opens; Simon Renard and Gilbert
enter._
SCENE III
The Queen, Gilbert, Simon Renard
GILBERT.
Before whom do I stand?
SIMON RENARD.
Before the Queen.
GILBERT.
The Queen!
THE QUEEN.
Yes, the Queen. I am the Queen. There is no time for astonishment.
You, sir, are Gilbert, a workman, an engraver. You live somewhere
beyond the borders of the river, with a woman named Jane, who is your
betrothed, and who deceives you, whose lover is a man named Fabiano,
who deceives me. You want revenge, so do I. In order to get it, I
must be able to make any disposition I please of your life. It is
necessary that you should say what I command you to say, no matter
what it is. For you, there must be no longer either false or true,
good or bad, justice or injustice--nothing but my vengeance and my
will. I shall require you to let me act, and to let yourself be acted
upon. Do you consent?
GILBERT.
Madame--
THE QUEEN.
You shall have your revenge; but I warn you, it will cost you your
life--that is all. Make your conditions. If you have an old mother
and you want her tablecloth covered with ingots of gold, speak, I
will do it. Sell me your life as dear as you please.
GILBERT.
I am no longer willing to die, madame.
THE QUEEN.
What!
GILBERT.
I have been thinking about it all night. Nothing is proved yet. I saw
a man who boasted that he was Jane's lover. How do I know that he did
not lie? I saw a key! How do I know that he did not steal it? I saw a
letter! How do I know that she was not forced to write it? I don't
even know whether it was her writing; it was dark, I was excited, I
could not see. I can't give up my life, which is her life, like that.
I don't believe any of it, I am not sure of any of it, I have not
seen Jane!
THE QUEEN.
It is easy to see that you love. You are like me, you refuse all the
proofs. But if you see her, your Jane, if you hear her confess the
crime, will you do what I wish?
GILBERT.
Yes, upon one condition.
THE QUEEN.
Tell it to me afterward. [_To Simon Renard._] Bring this woman here
at once.
[_Simon Renard goes out. The Queen places Gilbert behind a
curtain which covers part of the background of the apartment._
Stand there!
[_Jane enters, pale and trembling._
SCENE IV
_The Queen; Jane; Gilbert behind the curtain_
THE QUEEN.
Approach, young woman. You know who we are?
JANE.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
You know who is the man who seduced you?
JANE.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
He deceived you. He passed himself off for a nobleman called Amyas
Pawlet?
JANE.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
You know now that it is Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of Clanbrassil?
JANE.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
Last night, when they seized you in your house, you had given him a
rendezvous, you were waiting for him?
JANE (_wringing her hands_).
Heavens, madame!
THE QUEEN.
Answer!
JANE (_with feeble voice_).
Yes.
THE QUEEN.
You understand that there is no more hope, neither for him nor for
you?
JANE.
Nothing but death! That is a hope!
THE QUEEN.
Tell me all about it. Where did you meet this man first?
JANE.
The first time I saw him was-- But what is the use? A poor wretched
girl of the people, frivolous and vain, in love with jewels and fine
clothes, a girl dazzled with the handsome looks of a great lord--that
is all. I am seduced, I am dishonored, I am lost. There is nothing to
add to that. My God, madame, don't you see that each word I speak is
killing me?
THE QUEEN.
Enough.
JANE.
Your anger is terrible, I know it, madame. My head bends now beneath
the punishment you have prepared for me.
THE QUEEN.
Punishment for you? Do you think I concern myself about you,
simpleton? Who are you, wretched creature, that the Queen should
concern herself about you? Oh, no! Fabiano is my affair. As for you,
madame, some one else will look out for your punishment.
JANE.
Well, madame, whoever that one may be, whatever the punishment, I
will endure all without a murmur. I will even thank you if you will
listen to one prayer I am about to make. There is a man who took me
in, an orphan from my birth, who adopted me, brought me up, nourished
me, loved me, and who loves me still; a man of whom I am most
unworthy, toward whom I have been most guilty, and yet whose image
lies at the bottom of my heart, beloved, revered, sacred as is that
of God; a man who now, while I am speaking to you, finds his home
empty, deserted, robbed, who can't understand it, and who rends his
garments in anguish. Well, madame, what I ask of your Majesty is that
he may never understand, that I may disappear without his knowing
what has become of me, what I have done, or what you have done with
me. Alas, kind Heaven, I do not know how to make you understand, but
you ought to feel that I have a friend in him--a noble, generous
friend. Poor Gilbert! yes, it is true, he respects me and believes me
pure, and I do not want him to hate me and despise me! Oh, you
understand me, don't you, madame? That man's respect is a great deal
more to me than my life. And then it will make him suffer so
much--such a surprise! He won't believe it at first. No, he will not
believe it. My God! Poor Gilbert. Oh, madame, have pity on him and on
me! He has done you no harm! In the name of Heaven, keep him from
knowing the awful truth! In the name of Heaven, don't let him know
that I am guilty. He will kill himself. Don't let him know that I am
dead. He will die too.
THE QUEEN.
The man you are speaking of is here; he is listening to you; he will
judge you, he will punish you! [_Gilbert appears._
JANE.
Heavens! Gilbert!
GILBERT (_to the Queen_).
My life belongs to you, madame.
THE QUEEN.
Good. Have you any conditions to make?
GILBERT.
Yes, madame!
THE QUEEN.
What are they? We give you our royal word that we will grant them.
GILBERT.
This, madame. It is very simple. It is a debt of gratitude I pay to
one of your noble lords, who employed me a great deal in my capacity
as engraver.
THE QUEEN.
Speak!
GILBERT.
This lord has a secret liaison with a woman whom he cannot marry
because she belongs to a proscribed family. This woman, who up to the
present time has lived in concealment, is the only daughter and
heiress of the last Lord Talbot, beheaded under King Henry VIII.
THE QUEEN.
What? Are you sure of what you are saying? You say, John Talbot, the
good Catholic lord, the loyal defender of my mother of Aragon, has
left a daughter? Upon my crown, if that is true, this child is my
daughter. And what John Talbot did for the mother of Mary of England,
Mary of England will do for the daughter of John Talbot.
GILBERT.
Then, of course, it will be a pleasure to your Majesty to give back
Lord Talbot's estates to his daughter?
THE QUEEN.
Yes, truly, and to take them away from Fabiano. But are there proofs
that this heiress exists?
GILBERT.
There are!
THE QUEEN.
And if there are not, we will make them! We are not a queen for
nothing!
GILBERT.
Your Majesty will give back to Lord Talbot's daughter the estates,
lands, rank, coat-of-arms, and device of her father. Your Majesty
will remove her from all proscription, and will guarantee that her
life shall be safe. Your Majesty will marry her to this lord, who is
the only man she can marry. Upon these conditions, madame, you can
dispose of me, of my liberty, of my life, and of my will as you see
fit.
THE QUEEN.
Good! I will do what you have asked.
GILBERT.
Your Majesty will do what I have asked? The Queen of England swears
it to me, Gilbert the engraver, upon her crown which is here, and
upon the open gospel which is there?
THE QUEEN.
Upon the royal crown which is here, and the divine gospel which is
there, I swear it.
GILBERT.
The compact is concluded, madame. Have a tomb prepared for me and a
nuptial bed prepared for the lovers. The lord I speak of is Fabiani,
Earl of Clanbrassil. Talbot's heiress, behold her!
JANE.
What does he say?
THE QUEEN.
Am I dealing with a fool? What do you mean? Have a care, sir! You are
bold to mock the Queen of England! In the royal chambers people
should look to their words; there are times when the lips bring the
head to the block!
GILBERT.
You have my head, madame; I have your oath.
THE QUEEN.
You do not mean to say you are speaking seriously? This Fabiano--this
Jane! Come, come!
GILBERT.
This Jane is the daughter and the heiress of Lord Talbot.
THE QUEEN.
Bah! Nonsense! Delusion! Fancy! Have you got the proofs?
GILBERT.
Complete!
[_He takes a packet from his breast._
Read these papers.
THE QUEEN.
Have I time to read your papers? Did I ask for your papers? What do
your papers matter to me? If they prove anything, upon my soul, I
will throw them into the fire and nothing will be left of them.
GILBERT.
Nothing but your oath, madame!
THE QUEEN.
My oath, my oath!
GILBERT.
Upon the crown and upon the gospel, madame; that is to say, on your
head and your soul--on your life in this world, and on your life in
the next.
THE QUEEN.
But what do you want? Oh, I swear you are mad!
GILBERT.
What do I want? Jane has lost her rank, give it back to her! Jane has
lost her honor, give it back to her! Proclaim her the daughter of
Lord Talbot and the wife of Lord Clanbrassil, and then take my life.
THE QUEEN.
Your life! What do you want me to do with your life then? I didn't
want it except to use for vengeance on this man--this Fabiano. You
can't understand anything at all, can you? Well! I can't understand
you, either. You talked about vengeance! That is the way you avenge
yourself, is it? These men of the people are stupid! And after all,
do you suppose I believe your ridiculous story about an heiress of
Talbot? The papers! You show me papers! I won't look at them. Oh, a
woman wrongs you, and you play the magnanimous. Well, do it if it
suits you! I am not magnanimous! No! My heart is full of rage and
hate. I will avenge myself and you shall help me! Oh, but this man is
mad, mad, mad! My God! why do I need him? It is exasperating to have
to deal with people like this, at such a serious time.
GILBERT.
I have your word, as Catholic Queen. Lord Clanbrassil has seduced
Jane; he shall marry her!
THE QUEEN.
And if he refuses to marry her?
GILBERT.
You will force him to do it.
JANE.
Oh, no! Have pity upon me, Gilbert!
GILBERT.
Well, then, if this infamous wretch refuses, your Majesty can do what
she pleases with him and with me!
THE QUEEN (_with joy_).
Ah, that is all I ask!
GILBERT.
In that case, I will do everything the Queen commands, provided the
crown of the Countess of Waterford is solemnly replaced by the Queen
on the sacred and inviolable head of Jane, who stands here!
THE QUEEN.
Everything?
GILBERT.
Everything! Even a crime, if it is a crime you want. I will not stop
at treachery, which is more than a crime; nor at infamy, which is
more than treachery.
THE QUEEN.
You will say what I want you to say? You will die the death that I
want you to die?
GILBERT.
The death that you want me to die!
JANE.
Oh, my God!
THE QUEEN.
You swear it?
GILBERT.
I swear it!
THE QUEEN.
Then it is settled. It is enough! I have your word, you have mine! It
is agreed.
[_She seems to reflect a moment._
[_To Jane._] You are not needed here: go out. I will send for you.
JANE.
Oh, Gilbert, what is this you have done? Oh, Gilbert, I am a wretched
creature, and I don't dare to raise my eyes to you. Oh, Gilbert, you
are more than an angel, for you have the virtues of an angel and a
man's passions at the same time. [_She goes out._
SCENE V
_The Queen, Gilbert, afterward Simon Renard, Lord Chandos, and
the Guards_
THE QUEEN (_to Gilbert_).
Have you a weapon about you? A knife, a dagger, anything!
GILBERT (_drawing from his breast Lord Clanbrassil's dagger_).
A dagger? Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
Good! Hold it in your hand!
[_She seizes his arm quickly._
Sir bailiff D'Amont! Lord Chandos!
[_Enter Simon Renard, Lord Chandos, and Guards._
Seize this man! He has threatened my life, with his dagger! I seized
his arm as he was about to strike me. He is an assassin!
GILBERT.
Madame!
THE QUEEN (_low to Gilbert_).
Have you forgotten your agreement so soon? Is this the way you let me
use you? [_Aloud._] You are all witnesses that he had a dagger in his
hand. Sir Bailiff, what is the name of the executioner of the Tower
of London?
SIMON RENARD.
He is an Irishman called Mac Dermot.
THE QUEEN.
Send for him. I want to speak to him.
SIMON RENARD.
Yourself?
THE QUEEN.
Myself.
SIMON RENARD.
The Queen will speak to the executioner!
THE QUEEN.
Yes, the Queen will speak to the executioner. The head will speak to
the hand! Send for him.
[_A Guard goes out._
My Lord Chandos, and you, gentlemen, will answer to me for this man.
Keep him there among you, back of you. Certain things are about to
happen here which he must witness. Sir Lieutenant d'Amont, is Lord
Clanbrassil in the palace?
SIMON RENARD.
He is there, in the painted chamber, awaiting the Queen's good
pleasure to see him.
THE QUEEN.
Does he suspect anything?
SIMON RENARD.
Nothing.
THE QUEEN (_to Lord Chandos_).
Let him come in!
SIMON RENARD.
The entire Court is also waiting there. Will nobody be admitted
before Lord Clanbrassil?
THE QUEEN.
Who are those among our nobles who hate Fabiani?
SIMON RENARD.
All!
THE QUEEN.
Which hate him the most?
SIMON RENARD.
Clinton, Montague, Somerset, Earl of Derby, Gerard Fitz-Gerard, Lord
Paget, and the Lord Chancellor.
THE QUEEN (_to Lord Chandos_).
Admit them all--except the Lord Chancellor. Go! [_Chandos goes
out._
[_To Simon Renard._] The worthy Bishop Chancellor is not any fonder
of Fabiani than the rest, but he is a more scrupulous man.
[_Noticing the papers which Gilbert left upon the table._
Ah, I must look over these papers!
[_While she is examining them, the door in the background opens.
Those lords designated by The Queen enter, making profound
salutations._
SCENE VI
_The same. Lord Clinton and the other lords._
THE QUEEN.
Good-day, gentlemen! God be with you, my lords! [_To Lord
Montague._] Anthony Brown, I do not forget that you held your own
most worthily against John of Montmorency and the Count of Toulouse
during my negotiations with my uncle, the Emperor! Lord Paget, to-day
you will receive your letters patent of Baron Paget de Beaudesert in
Stafford. And this is our old friend, Lord Clinton. We are always
your good friend, my lord. It was you who exterminated Thomas Wyatt
in St. James's Field. Let us all remember it, my lords. The crown of
England was saved that day by a bridge which enabled my troops to
reach the rebels, and by a wall which prevented the rebels from
reaching me! The bridge was London Bridge. The wall was my Lord
Clinton!
LORD CLINTON (_low to Simon Renard_).
The Queen has not spoken to me for six months. How kind she is
to-day!
SIMON RENARD (_low to Lord Clinton_).
Patience, my lord. She will be kinder still, by-and-by.
THE QUEEN (_to Lord Chandos_).
My Lord Clanbrassil may enter. [_To Simon Renard._] After he has
been here a few moments--
[_She speaks to him in a low voice and indicates the door through
which Jane passed._
SIMON RENARD.
I understand, madame. [_Fabiani enters._
SCENE VII
_The same._ Fabiani
THE QUEEN.
Ah, here he is!
[_She continues to speak to Simon Renard in a low voice._
FABIANI (_everybody salutes him; he looks around him. Aside_).
What does this mean? There are only my enemies here, this morning!
The Queen is speaking in a low tone to Simon Renard. The devil! She
is laughing! It is a bad sign.
THE QUEEN (_graciously to Fabiani_).
God be with you, my lord!
FABIANI (_seizing her hand which he kisses_).
Madame-- [_Aside._] She smiled at me! The danger is not for me!
THE QUEEN (_still graciously_).
I want to speak to you.
[_She advances to the front of the stage with him._
FABIANI.
And I also, I want to speak to you, madame. I have a right to
reproach you! To keep me away, to exile me so long! Ah, it wouldn't
be thus if you thought of me during these hours of absence as I think
of you!
THE QUEEN.
You are unjust. Since you left me, I have thought of no one but you!
FABIANI.
Is that really true? Does so much happiness belong to me? Say it to
me again!
THE QUEEN (_always smiling_).
I swear it to you!
FABIANI.
Then you do indeed love me as I love you?
THE QUEEN.
Yes, my lord! Truly, I have thought of no one but you. So much so,
that I have tried to plan a pleasant surprise for your return.
FABIANI.
What do you mean? What surprise?
THE QUEEN.
A meeting which will give you pleasure!
FABIANI.
A meeting with whom?
THE QUEEN.
Guess! Can't you guess?
FABIANI.
No, madame!
THE QUEEN.
Turn around!
[_He turns and sees Jane on the threshold of the little door, which
is half open._
FABIANI (_aside_).
Jane!
JANE (_aside_).
It is he!
THE QUEEN (_with the same smile_).
My lord, do you know this young woman?
FABIANI.
No, madame!
THE QUEEN.
Young woman, do you know this lord?
JANE.
Truth before life! Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
So, my lord, you do not know this woman?
FABIANI.
Madame, this is a conspiracy. I am surrounded by enemies. This woman
is doubtless in league with them. I do not know her, madame! I do not
even know who she is, madame!
THE QUEEN (_rising and striking him in the face with her glove_).
Ah, you are a coward! You betray one and disown the other! You don't
even know who she is? Do you want me to tell you? This woman is Jane
Talbot, daughter of John Talbot, the good Catholic lord who perished
on the scaffold for my mother. This woman is Jane Talbot, my cousin:
Jane Talbot, Countess of Shrewsbury, Countess of Wexford, Countess of
Waterford, peeress of England. That is who she is, this woman! Lord
Paget, you are commissioner of the private seal; you will remember
our words. The Queen of England solemnly recognizes this woman here
present, as Jane, daughter and sole heiress of the last Earl of
Waterford. [_Showing the papers._] Here are the titles and the
proofs, which you will have sealed with the great seal. It is our
will.
[_To Fabiani_] Yes, Countess of Waterford, and it is proved! And
you will give back her estates, you wretched man! Ah, you don't know
this woman? You don't know who she is? Well, I am telling you! It is
Jane Talbot. Shall I tell you more yet?
[_Looking him in the face, in a low voice, between her teeth._
Coward, she is your mistress!
FABIANI.
Madame!
THE QUEEN.
That is what she is! Now, this is what you are! You are a man without
soul, a man without heart, a man without brains. You are a liar and a
villain! You are--By my faith, gentlemen, you need not draw away. I
am quite willing you should hear what I have to say to this man. I am
not lowering my voice, it seems to me. Fabiano, you are a wretch; a
traitor to me, a coward to her; a lying lackey, the most vile, the
lowest of all men. Yet it is true, I made you Earl of Clanbrassil,
Baron of Dinasmonddy and what more? Baron of Darmouth in Devonshire.
Ah, well! I was an idiot! My lords, I ask your pardon for having
forced you to be elbowed by that man there. You, a knight! you, a
noble! you, a lord! Compare yourself a little with those who are
such. Look! look around you! There stand noblemen. There is Bridges,
Baron Chandos; there is Seymour, Duke of Somerset. There are the
Stanleys, who have been Earls of Derby since 1485. There are the
Clintons, who have been barons since 1298. Do you imagine you are
like these people--you? You say that you are allied to the Spanish
family of Peñalver, but it is not true; you are only a bad Italian.
Nothing--worse than nothing! Son of a shoemaker in the village of
Larino! Yes, gentlemen, the son of a shoemaker! I knew it, and I did
not tell it; I concealed it, and I made believe I credited this man
when he talked about his nobility. That is the way we are, we women.
Oh, Heaven! I wish there were women here; it would be a lesson to
them all. This scoundrel! this scoundrel! he betrays one woman and
disowns the other. Infamous creature! Oh, yes, indeed you are
infamous. What! I have been speaking all this time and he is not yet
on his knees? On your knees, Fabiani! My lords, force this man to
kneel!
FABIANI.
Your Majesty--
THE QUEEN.
This creature whom I have loaded with benefits! this Neapolitan
lackey whom I have made a noble knight and a proud earl of England.
Ah, I ought to have expected this! But I am always like that; I am
obstinate, and afterward I see that I am wrong. It is my fault.
Italian stands for liar: Neapolitan for coward. Every time that my
father made use of an Italian, he repented of it. This Fabiani! You
see Lady Jane, unfortunate child, to what a man you have surrendered
yourself! But I will avenge you. Oh, I ought to have known it from
the first. You will find nothing in an Italian's pocket but a
stiletto, nothing in his soul but treachery.
FABIANI.
Madame, I swear to you--
THE QUEEN.
Good! Now he will perjure himself; he will descend to the depths of
infamy; he will make us blush to our finger-tips before these men--we
women who have loved him. He will not even lift up his head!
FABIANI.
Yes, madame, I will lift it up! I am lost; I see it clearly. My death
is decided. You will make use of every means, dagger, poison--
THE QUEEN (_taking hold of both his hands and dragging him violently
to the front of the stage_).
Poison! Dagger! What are you saying, Italian? A treacherous
vengeance, a disgraceful vengeance--a vengeance from the back, a
vengeance such as you take in your country? No, Signor Fabiani,
neither dagger nor poison. Do I have to conceal myself? Do I have to
hide in the corners of the street at night and make myself small when
I want revenge? No, by my faith, I want the daylight! Do you hear, my
lord?--the full noonday, the bright sun, the public square, the ax
and the stake, the crowds in the street, the crowds at the windows,
the crowds on the roofs! A hundred thousand witnesses! I want people
to be afraid, do you hear, my lord? I want them to think it splendid,
frightful, magnificent. I want them to say, "It is a woman who has
been wronged, but it is a Queen who takes revenge!" This much envied
favorite, this handsome, insolent young man, whom I have dressed in
velvets and satins, I want to see him bent double, terrified and
trembling, on his knees before a black cloth, with naked feet, with
manacled wrists, hissed by the people, fingered by the executioner.
On this white neck, where I have put a golden collar, I want to put a
rope. I have seen how Fabiani looks upon a throne, I want to see how
he looks upon a scaffold.
FABIANI.
Madame--
THE QUEEN.
Not a word! Not a word! You are indeed lost, as you say. You will
mount the scaffold as did Suffolk and Northumberland. This will be a
festival such as I have given before to my good city of London. You
know how she hates you, this good city of mine! Faith, when one wants
vengeance, it's a good thing to be Mary, Queen of England, daughter
of Henry VIII. and mistress of four seas. When you are on the
scaffold, you can make a long speech to the people, if you like, as
Northumberland did, or a long prayer to God, as Suffolk did, in order
to give pardon the time to arrive; but God is my witness that you are
a traitor, and the pardon will not come. This wretched liar who
talked of love to me, and this morning even said "thou" to me--Eh,
gentlemen, it seems to amaze you that I talk thus openly before you;
but I repeat it, what do I care?
[_To Lord Somerset._] My lord duke, you are constable of the Tower;
demand this man's sword!
FABIANI.
Here it is; but I protest. Admitting that it is proved that I
deceived or seduced a woman--
THE QUEEN.
What does it matter to me whether you have seduced a woman? Do I
concern myself about that? These gentlemen are witnesses, it is a
matter of indifference to me!
FABIANI.
The seduction of a woman is not a capital offense, madame. Your
Majesty could not procure Frogmorton's condemnation upon the same
accusation!
THE QUEEN.
I believe he defies us now! The worm has become a serpent. Who says
you are accused of that?
FABIANI.
Of what else am I accused? I am not an Englishman; I am no subject of
your Majesty. I am a subject of the King of Naples and a vassal of
the Holy Father. I will appeal to his embassador, the eminent
Cardinal Polus, to save me. I will defend myself, madame. I am a
stranger! I cannot be tried unless I have committed a crime--a real
crime. What is my crime?
THE QUEEN.
You ask what your crime is?
FABIANI.
Yes, madame.
THE QUEEN.
You all hear this question that he has asked, my lords? You shall
hear the answer. Listen, and look out for yourselves, all of you,
however great you may be, because you will see that I need only stamp
upon the earth with my foot to bring from out of it a scaffold.
Chandos, open that folding-door. Call the Court--every one! Bid every
one enter.
[_The door at the back is opened. The entire Court enters._
SCENE VIII
_The same. The Lord Chancellor, all the Court_
THE QUEEN.
Enter, enter, my lords! I am truly pleased to see you to-day. Good!
good! The officers of the law this way: nearer, nearer! Where are the
sergeants-at-arms of the House of Lords? Harriot and Herbert? Ah,
there you are, gentlemen! Be welcome! Draw your swords. Good! Place
yourselves at the right and at the left of that man. He is your
prisoner.
FABIANI.
Madame, what is my crime?
THE QUEEN.
My Lord Gardiner, my learned friend, you are chancellor of England.
We order you and the twelve lord commissioners of the Star Chamber,
whom we regret not to see here, to assemble yourselves in haste.
Strange things are passing in this palace. Listen, my lords! Madame
Elizabeth has raised more than one enemy to our crown. We have had
the Pietro Caro plot--that man who started the Exeter movement, and
who communicated with Madame Elizabeth by means of a cipher cut on
her guitar. We have had the treachery of Thomas Wyatt who roused the
county of Kent. We have had the rebellion of the Duke of Suffolk, who
was captured in the hollow of a tree, after his followers were
defeated. To-day we have a new attempt. Listen, all of you. To-day,
this morning, a man presented himself at my audience. After a few
words, he drew his dagger on me. I stopped his hand in time. Lord
Chandos and the bailiff D'Amont seized the man. He says that he was
urged to the crime by Lord Clanbrassil.
FABIANI.
By me! It is not true! This is a frightful thing! This man does not
exist. This man cannot be found! Who is he? Where is he?
THE QUEEN.
He is here!
GILBERT (_coming out from among the soldiers, behind whom he has been
hidden up to this time_).
I am the man!
THE QUEEN.
According to this man's declarations, we Mary, Queen, accuse before
the Star Chamber this other man, Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of
Clanbrassil, of high treason, and of an attempt of regicide upon our
imperial and sacred person.
FABIANI.
Regicide? I? This is monstrous. Oh, my brain is bewildered! I cannot
see clear! What is this trap? Whoever you may be, wretched creature,
dare you affirm that what the Queen says is true?
GILBERT.
Yes!
FABIANI.
I urged you to regicide?
GILBERT.
Yes.
FABIANI.
Yes, always yes! Malediction! Oh, it is impossible for you to know
how false that is, gentlemen. That man comes from hell! Unfortunate
wretch, you want to ruin me, but don't you see that you ruin yourself
in the same breath? The crime you charge upon me falls upon you too.
You will send me to the block, but you will die also. Madman, with a
single word you cause two heads to fall! Did you know that?
GILBERT.
I know it.
FABIANI.
My lords, this man is bribed--
GILBERT.
By you. Here is the purse full of gold which you paid me for the
crime. Your crest and your monogram are embroidered upon it.
FABIANI.
Just Heaven! But you don't show me the dagger with which this man, it
is said, attempted to strike the Queen. Where is the dagger?
LORD CHANDOS.
Here it is!
GILBERT (_to Fabiani_).
It is yours. You gave it to me for that purpose. They will find the
sheath at your house!
THE LORD CHANCELLOR.
Earl of Clanbrassil, what reply do you make? Do you recognize this
man?
FABIANI.
No!
GILBERT.
In truth, he only saw me by night. Let me whisper two words to him,
madame, they will help his memory. [_He approaches Fabiani._] My
lord, you appear to recognize no one to-day--neither the man you have
wronged, nor the woman you have seduced. Ah, the Queen avenges
herself; but the man of the people, he avenges himself also. You
defied me to do it, I think. Behold yourself caught between a double
vengeance, my lord! What do you say to that? I am Gilbert the
engraver!
FABIANI.
Yes, I recognize you. My lords, I recognize this man. Since it is
with him I have to deal, I have nothing more to say.
THE QUEEN.
He confesses!
THE LORD CHANCELLOR (_to Gilbert_).
According to Norman law and Statute 25, Henry VIII., in a case of
high treason of the first degree, a confession does not save the
accomplice. Do not forget, it is a case wherein the Queen has not the
right of mercy, and you will die upon the scaffold as well as the man
you accuse. Therefore reflect! Do you confirm all you have said?
GILBERT.
I know that I shall die, and I confirm it.
JANE (_aside_).
My God! if this is a dream, it is very horrible.
THE LORD CHANCELLOR (_to Gilbert_).
Are you willing to repeat your statements with your hand upon the
gospel?
[_He presents the gospel to Gilbert, who puts his hand upon it._
GILBERT.
With my hand upon the gospel, and my approaching death before my
eyes, I swear that this man is an assassin; that this dagger, which
is his, was used for the crime; that this purse, which is his, was
given to me in payment for the crime. May God help me! It is the
truth!
THE LORD CHANCELLOR (_to Fabiani_).
My lord, what have you to say?
FABIANI.
Nothing! I am lost.
SIMON RENARD (_low to The Queen_).
Your Majesty sent for the executioner. He is there!
THE QUEEN.
Good! Let him come in!
[_The row of noblemen divides and the Executioner appears; he is
dressed in red and black, and on his shoulder bears a long sword in
its scabbard._
SCENE IX
_The same._ Executioner
THE QUEEN.
My lord Duke of Somerset, these two men to the Tower! My Lord
Gardiner, our chancellor, let their trial before the twelve peers of
the Star Chamber commence to-morrow, and may God keep watch over
England. We expect them to be judged, both of them, before we leave
for Exford, where we are to open Parliament, and for Windsor, where
we are to spend Easter.
[_To the Executioner._] Approach! I am glad to see you! You are a
faithful servant. You are old; you have already witnessed three
reigns. It is customary for the sovereigns of this kingdom to make
you as costly a gift as possible, upon their ascension. My father,
Henry VIII., gave you the diamond clasp of his cloak. My brother,
Edward VI., gave you a goblet of chased gold. It is my turn now; I
have not given you anything yet. I must give you a present. Come
nearer! [_Indicating Fabiani._] Do you see that head--that young,
adorable head; that head, which, up to this morning, was the dearest,
the most precious thing to me, in all my kingdom? Well! that
head--look at it well--I give it to you!
_THIRD DAY_
PART I
WHICH OF THE TWO?
Scene.--_Hall in the interior of the Tower of London. Pointed arch
upheld by large pillars. To the right and to the left two low doors
to two cells. To the right a dormer-window, which is supposed to
overlook the Thames. To the left a dormer-window, which is supposed
to overlook the streets. On each side a door concealed in the wall.
In the background, a gallery with a sort of balcony shut in by glass
and overlooking the exterior courts of the Tower_
SCENE I
Gilbert, Joshua
GILBERT.
Well?
JOSHUA.
Alas!
GILBERT.
No more hope?
JOSHUA.
No more hope. [_Gilbert goes to the window._
You won't see anything from the window.
GILBERT.
You inquired, didn't you?
JOSHUA.
I am only too sure.
GILBERT.
It is for Fabiani?
JOSHUA.
It is for Fabiani.
GILBERT.
How fortunate that man is! Maledictions on me!
JOSHUA.
Poor Gilbert! Your turn will come! To-day, it is he; to-morrow it
will be you!
GILBERT.
What do you say? We are not thinking of the same thing. What are you
talking about?
JOSHUA.
About the scaffold which they are building.
GILBERT.
And I--I am speaking of Jane!
JOSHUA.
Of Jane?
GILBERT.
Yes, of Jane! Only of Jane. What does the rest matter to me? You have
forgotten, have you? You don't remember that for one whole month,
glued to the bars of my cell, from which I can look into the street,
I have watched her, pale and sad, wandering around the base of this
tower, which holds two men, Fabiani and me. You have forgotten all
about my anguish, have you, and my doubts, my misgivings? For which
of us does she come? Poor wretch, I ask myself this question day and
night. I asked you, Joshua; and last night you promised to try to see
her, and speak to her. Oh, tell me! Did you learn anything! Is it for
me she comes, or is it for Fabiani?
JOSHUA.
I learned that Fabiani is certainly to be beheaded to-day, and you
to-morrow, and from that moment I confess I lost my head, Gilbert.
The scaffold drove Jane entirely out of my thoughts. Your death--
GILBERT.
My death! What do you mean by that word! My death is that Jane loves
me no longer. From the day that I was no longer beloved, I was dead.
Oh, yes! truly dead. Joshua, what has remained of me since that time
won't be worth taking to-morrow. Oh, Joshua, you don't know, you
can't understand what a man is when he loves. If any one had said to
me, two months ago, "Jane, your Jane without reproach, your Jane so
pure, your love, your pride, your lily, your treasure, Jane will give
herself to another; will you take her then?" I should have said, "No,
I will not have her! rather death a thousand times for her and for
myself." And I should have crushed under my feet any one who had
dared to speak to me like that. If I would take her?--To-day, you
know, Jane is no longer the Jane without stain, whom I adored, the
Jane whose brow I hardly dared touch with my lips. Jane has given
herself to another--to a wretch! I know it--and--well, it's all the
same to me. I love her! My heart is broken, but I love her! I would
kiss the hem of her dress, and I would ask her pardon, if she would
only take me. She might be in the gutter with those who belong there,
and I would take her out, and I would hold her close to my heart,
Joshua! Joshua, I would give, not a hundred years of life, since I no
longer possess one day, but the eternity which will be mine
to-morrow, just to see her smile at me once more--just once more
before my death--and to have her say to me those dear words she used
to say, "I love you." Joshua, Joshua, that is the way a man's heart
is, when he loves. You think you would kill the woman who betrays
you? No, you wouldn't kill her; you would lie at her feet afterward,
the same as before, only you would be sad. You think I am weak? What
should I have gained in killing Jane? Oh, my heart will burst with
all these unbearable thoughts! If she only loved me now, what would
it matter to me, what she has done? But she loves Fabiani! But she
loves Fabiani! It is for Fabiani that she comes here! There is one
thing that is sure, it is that I want to die. Have pity on me,
Joshua!
JOSHUA.
Fabiani will die to-day.
GILBERT.
And I to-morrow.
JOSHUA.
God is above all.
GILBERT.
I will be revenged on him to-day. To-morrow, he will be revenged on
me!
JOSHUA.
My brother, here is the second constable of the Tower, Master Eneas
Dulverton. You must go in. I will see you again to-night.
GILBERT.
Oh, to die without being beloved! To have no one to weep for us!
Jane! Jane! Jane!
[_Re-enters his cell._
JOSHUA.
Poor Gilbert! Good God! Who could have foretold that what has
happened would happen?
[_Goes out. Enter Simon Renard and Master Eneas._
SCENE II
Simon Renard, Master Eneas Dulverton
SIMON RENARD.
As you say, it is very extraordinary. But what can you expect? The
Queen is crazy. She doesn't know what she wants. You can't count upon
anything. She is a woman. I would like to know what she is here for.
Well! a woman's heart is a riddle of which King Francis I. wrote the
solution on that pane of glass at Chambord--
"A woman's heart is most capricious;
Who trusts her, finds life not propitious."
Listen to me, Master Eneas. We are old friends; we must get through
with this thing to-day. Everything here depends upon you. If you are
ordered--[_He whispers to Eneas_] be slow about it; let it fall
through skillfully. Let me have two clear hours before me to-night,
and what I want will be accomplished; to-morrow there will be no
favorite. I shall be all-powerful, and you will be baronet and
lieutenant of the Tower the day after. Do you understand?
MASTER ENEAS.
I understand.
SIMON RENARD.
Very well. Some one is coming. We must not be seen together. Go out
that way. I am going to meet the Queen. [_They separate._
SCENE III
_A Jailer enters with caution, then ushers in Lady Jane._
THE JAILER.
You are where you wished to be, my lady. Here are the doors to the
two cells. My recompense, now, if you please.
[_Jane unfastens her diamond bracelet and gives it to him._
JANE.
There it is.
THE JAILER.
Thanks. Don't compromise me.
[_He goes out._
JANE (_alone_).
Kind Heaven! What shall I do? It is I who have destroyed him. I must
be the one to save him! I can never do it, never! A woman can do
nothing! The scaffold-- The scaffold! Oh, it is horrible! Come, no
more tears; let us have action! I never can do it! I never can do it!
Have mercy on me, my God! I think some one is coming. Whose voice is
that? I recognize it. It is the Queen's voice! Ah, all is lost!
[_She hides behind a pillar. The Queen and Simon Renard enter._
SCENE IV
_The Queen; Simon Renard; Jane, concealed_
THE QUEEN.
Ah, the change surprises you? I am no longer myself? Well, what does
that matter to me? It is the truth! I don't want him to die--now!
SIMON RENARD.
Yet yesterday, your Majesty ordered the execution to take place
to-day.
THE QUEEN.
As I ordered the day before, that the execution should take place
yesterday. As I ordered Sunday that the execution should take place
Monday. To-day I ordered the execution to take place to-morrow.
SIMON RENARD.
As a matter of fact, since the second Sunday in Advent, when the
decision was pronounced in the Star Chamber, and the two criminals
came back to the Tower preceded by the executioner with the ax turned
toward them--and that was three weeks ago--every day since then your
Majesty has put the matter off until to-morrow.
THE QUEEN.
Well, can't you understand what that means, sir? Must I explain
everything, and must a woman be forced to show her naked heart to
you, because she is a Queen--unfortunate woman that she is--and
because you represent the Prince of Spain, her future husband? You
don't understand, you men, that with a woman the heart has its
chastity as well as the body. Well, then, yes--since you want to
know, since you make believe that you don't understand anything--yes,
every day I put off Fabiani's execution until to-morrow, because
every morning my courage fails me when I think that the bell of the
Tower of London will ring out his death-knell; because to think they
are sharpening an ax for that man, breaks my heart; because it kills
me to think they will nail a coffin over him; because I am a woman,
because I am weak, because I am insane, because I love him yet, my
God! There! have you got enough? Are you satisfied? Do you understand
now? Oh, some day, my lord, I will have my revenge on you, for all
these things you have made me tell you!
SIMON RENARD.
Yet it ought to be about time to get through with this Fabiani! You
expect to marry my royal master, the Prince of Spain, madame!
THE QUEEN.
If the Prince of Spain is not satisfied, let him say so; we will
marry somebody else. Suitors are not lacking. The son of the King of
the Romans, the Prince of Piedmont, the Infante of Portugal, Cardinal
Polus, the King of Denmark, and Lord Courtenay are as good noblemen
as he!
SIMON RENARD.
Lord Courtenay! Lord Courtenay!
THE QUEEN.
An English baron is worth a Spanish prince, my lord. Besides, Lord
Courtenay is descended from the emperors of the East. Oh, get mad if
you like!
SIMON RENARD.
Fabiani has made himself hated by every one in London who has got a
heart.
THE QUEEN.
Except by me!
SIMON RENARD.
Peasants and lords are united against him, and if he is not executed
this very day, as your Majesty has promised--
THE QUEEN.
Well!
SIMON RENARD.
There will be an uprising among the people.
THE QUEEN.
I've got my lansquenets.
SIMON RENARD.
There will be a conspiracy among the nobles.
THE QUEEN.
I have the executioner.
SIMON RENARD.
Your Majesty swore upon your mother's prayer-book that you would not
pardon him.
THE QUEEN.
Here is a signature in blank which he has sent to me, in which I
swear on my imperial crown that I will pardon him! My father's crown
is worth as much as my mother's prayer-book. One oath destroys the
other. But who says that I will pardon him?
SIMON RENARD.
He has boldly betrayed you, madame!
THE QUEEN.
What does that matter? All men are alike about that. I don't want him
to die. Listen, my lord--I mean Sir Bailiff. Good God! you confuse my
mind so much that I can't even tell whom I am talking to. Oh, I know
all that you want to say to me! I know he is a vile, degraded,
contemptible man. I know it as well as you, and I blush for it. But I
love him! What do you want me to do about it? I would probably love a
better man less. Moreover, who are you--all of you--great as you may
be? Are you any better than he? You will tell me that he is a
favorite, and the English nation detests favorites! Don't I know that
you only want to overthrow him to put the Earl of Kildare--that fool,
that Irishman--in his place, that he may have twenty heads a day cut
off? What does that matter to you? Don't talk to me about your Prince
of Spain; you make light enough of him. Don't talk to me about the
anger of M. de Noailles, the French embassador! M. de Noailles is an
idiot, and I will tell him so to his face. As for me, I am a woman; I
want things, and then I don't want them. I am not made all in one
piece. That man's life is necessary to my life. Oh, I beg of you,
don't put on that air of virginal sincerity and good faith. I know
all your intrigues. Between us two, you know as well as I that he
didn't commit the crime for which he is condemned. Well, it is
settled. I don't want Fabiani to die. Am I the mistress, or am I not?
Come, Sir Bailiff, let us talk about something else, will you?
SIMON RENARD.
I withdraw, madame. All your nobles have spoken to you through my
voice.
THE QUEEN.
What do I care for my nobles!
SIMON RENARD (_aside_).
Suppose we try the people!
[_He goes out with respectful salutation._
THE QUEEN (_alone_).
He went out with a singular expression. That man is capable of
arousing a rebellion. I must hurry off to the City Hall. What ho!
Some one! [_Master Eneas and Joshua appear._
SCENE V
_The same, without Simon Renard. Master Eneas, Joshua_
THE QUEEN.
Is it you, Master Eneas? This man and you, you must attend to it that
the Earl of Clanbrassil makes his escape at once.
MASTER ENEAS.
Madame--
THE QUEEN.
Very well! I won't trust you; I remember you are one of his enemies.
Are there none but enemies of the man I love, around me? I will wager
that this turnkey, whom I don't even know, he hates him too.
JOSHUA.
You are right, madame.
THE QUEEN.
My God! My God! This Simon Renard is more a king than I am a queen!
What! not one person to trust? No one to whom I can give power to
plan his escape?
JANE (_coming out from behind the pillar_).
Yes, madame, I!
JOSHUA (_aside_).
Jane!
THE QUEEN.
You! Who are you? Ah, it is you, Jane Talbot. What are you doing
here? Never mind, you are here! You have come to save Fabiani; thank
you! I ought to hate you, Jane; I ought to be jealous of you. I have
reason enough to be! But I'm not! I love you for loving him! In front
of the scaffold there is no more jealousy--nothing but love! You are
like me, you forgive him. I understand; men don't understand these
things. Lady Jane, let us have it clearly understood. We are both of
us miserable, are we not? We must save Fabiani! I have no one but
you. I must let you do it! At least, I am sure, you will do it with
all your heart. Take charge of it, gentlemen, both of you. Do
everything that Lady Jane directs you to do, and upon your heads, you
will be answerable for the execution of her orders. Embrace me, young
woman!
JANE.
The Thames washes the base of the Tower on this side. I noticed a
secret passage. A boat at that place, and the escape might be made by
the Thames. It is the safest way.
MASTER ENEAS.
It will be impossible to get a boat there, before an hour.
JANE.
That is very long.
MASTER ENEAS.
It will soon pass! It will be dark, too. That will be better if her
Majesty wishes to keep the escape secret.
THE QUEEN.
Perhaps you are right. In one hour then. I leave you, Lady Jane. I
must go to the City Hall. Save Fabiani!
JANE.
Make yourself easy, madame!
[_The Queen goes out; Jane follows her with her eyes._
JOSHUA (_front of stage_).
Gilbert was right; she loves Fabiani!
SCENE VI
_The same, without The Queen_
JANE (_to Master Eneas_).
You have heard the Queen's commands. A boat, there, at the base of
the Tower, the keys of the secret corridors, a cap, and a cloak.
MASTER ENEAS.
Impossible to get all that before night. In one hour, my lady.
JANE.
Very well! Go! Leave me with this man.
[_Master Eneas goes out. Jane follows him with her eyes._
JOSHUA (_aside, at front stage_).
"This man!" It is very natural. One who has forgotten Gilbert will
not remember Joshua.
[_He goes to Fabiani's cell and is about to open it._
JANE.
What are you doing there?
JOSHUA.
Forestalling your wishes, my lady. I am opening this door.
JANE.
What door is that?
JOSHUA.
The door of my Lord Fabiani's cell.
JANE.
And that one?
JOSHUA.
It is the door to another man's cell.
JANE.
Who is he--that other?
JOSHUA.
Another who is condemned to death; some one whom you do not know--a
workman named Gilbert.
JANE.
Open that door!
JOSHUA (_after having opened it_).
Gilbert!
SCENE VII
Jane, Gilbert, Joshua
GILBERT (_from the interior of his cell_).
What is wanted?
[_He appears on the threshold, sees Jane, leans trembling against
the wall._
Jane! Lady Jane Talbot!
JANE (_on her knees, without lifting her eyes to him_).
Gilbert, I have come to save you!
GILBERT.
Save me!
JANE.
Listen to me! Pity me! Do not crush me! I know all that you would
say. It is all true; but don't say it to me. I must save you.
Everything is ready. The escape is safe. Let yourself be saved by me,
just as if I were anybody else. I don't ask any more. You need never
recognize me again. You need never know who I am! Don't forgive me!
Just let me save you. Will you?
GILBERT.
Thank you! It is useless. Why wish to save my life, Lady Jane, if you
do not love me?
JANE (_with joy_).
Oh, Gilbert, is that what you ask me, truly? Gilbert, do you deign to
think of what is passing in this poor girl's heart? Gilbert, is it
possible that the love I have for you can interest you, can seem
worth thinking about? Oh, I thought it was quite indifferent to
you--that you despised me too much to wonder what I did with my
heart. Gilbert, if you only knew how these words you have spoken make
me feel! Oh, it is an unhoped-for gleam of sunshine in my dark night.
Oh, listen to me! If I dared to draw near to you, if I dared to touch
your garments, if I dared to take your hand in mine, if I dared once
more to lift mine eyes to you and to Heaven, as I did once--do you
know what I would say to you? On my knees, prostrate, weeping at your
feet, with sobs on my lips and the joy of angels in my heart, I would
say, "Gilbert, I love you!"
GILBERT (_taking her to his heart with rapture_).
You love me?
JANE.
Yes, I love you!
GILBERT.
You love me! My God! she loves me. It is indeed true! She has said it
herself; her lips have spoken it. God in heaven!
JANE.
My Gilbert!
GILBERT.
You say all is prepared for my escape? Quick--let us hurry! Life! I
want to live! Jane loves me! This roof descends on my head and
crushes it. I want air! I suffocate here! Let us fly quickly. Let us
go, Jane! I want to live! I want to live! I am beloved.
JANE.
Not yet. We must have a boat. We must wait until night. But be easy.
You are saved. In less than an hour we will be outside. The Queen is
at the City Hall and will not come back so soon as that. I am
mistress here. I will explain it all to you.
GILBERT.
Wait an hour? That is long. Oh, I yearn to get back to life and
happiness. Jane, Jane, you are there; I will live! You love me! I am
come back from hell! Restrain me. I will do something mad. I will
laugh, I will sing. Ah, you do love then?
JANE.
Yes, I love you! yes, I love you! And listen, Gilbert, believe me;
this is the truth as though I were on my death-bed: I have never
loved any one but you. Even in my fall, even in the midst of my sin,
I loved you. Scarcely had I fallen into the arms of that demon who
ruined me, when I wept for my angel.
GILBERT.
Forgotten! forgiven! Never speak of it again, Jane! What do I care
for the past? Who could resist your voice, who would do other than I
am doing? Yes, I pardon everything, my well-beloved child. The
foundation of love is mercy and pardon, Jane; jealousy and despair
burned the tears in my eyes, but I pardon you, but I thank you! You
are the only truly bright thing in this world; at each word that you
speak, I feel grief dies, and joy is born in my soul. Jane, lift your
head, stand up straight before me there and look at me! I tell you
that you are my child.
JANE.
Always generous! Gilbert, my well-beloved.
GILBERT.
I wish I were outside now: in our flight, far away: free, with you!
Oh, this night, which will never come! The boat is not there. Jane,
we will leave London at once, this night. We will leave England; we
will go to Venice. Men of my trade make a great deal of money there.
You will belong to me! Oh, my God! I am insane! I have forgotten the
name you bear. It is too proud a one, Jane.
JANE.
What do you mean?
GILBERT.
Daughter of Lord Talbot.
JANE.
I know one prouder still.
GILBERT.
Which?
JANE.
Wife of the workman Gilbert.
GILBERT.
Jane!
JANE.
Oh, no! Don't think I ask so much as that. I know I am unworthy of
that. I do not lift my eyes so high. I would never take such an
advantage of your pardon. The poor engraver Gilbert shall make no
mesalliance with the Countess of Waterford. No, I will follow you, I
will love you, I will never leave you; I will lie all day at your
feet, all night at your door. I will watch you work, I will help
you, I will give you all you need. I will be to you something less
than a sister, something more than a dog. And if you ever marry,
Gilbert--because God will want you to find somebody, some pure woman,
without stain and worthy of you--well, if you marry, and if your wife
is good, if she will let me, I will be your wife's servant. If she
won't have me, I will go off, far off, to die where I can. That is
the only way I shall ever leave you. If you do not marry I will
stay with you, always; I will be gentle and patient--oh, you shall
see!--and if people think ill of me because I am with you--well, they
can think what they please. I have no longer the right to blush, you
see--I am only an unfortunate woman!
GILBERT (_falling at her feet_).
You are an angel! You are my wife!
JANE.
Your wife? Ah, you are like God--your pardon purifies me. Be blessed,
Gilbert, for putting this crown upon my brow.
[_Gilbert takes her up and folds her to his heart. While they stand
thus in each other's arms, Joshua takes Jane's hand._
JOSHUA.
It is Joshua, Lady Jane!
JANE.
Good Joshua!
JOSHUA.
You did not know me a little while ago.
JANE.
No, I had to begin with him.
[_Joshua kisses her hand._
GILBERT (_pressing her in his arms_).
Ah, what happiness! But is it real, all this happiness?
[_For some time a distant noise has been heard; confused voices, a
tumult. It grows dark._
JOSHUA.
What is that noise?
[_He goes to the window which overlooks the street._
JANE.
Oh! My God! Let nothing happen!
JOSHUA.
There is a great crowd off there. Pick-axes, pikes, torches. The
Queen's pensioners on horseback, and fighting. They are all coming
this way! What cries! The devil! It looks like a public revolt.
JANE.
If it is only not against Gilbert.
DISTANT CRIES.
Fabiani! Death to Fabiani!
JANE.
Can you hear?
JOSHUA.
Yes.
JANE.
What are they saying?
JOSHUA.
I can't distinguish!
JANE.
Oh, my God! My God!
[_Master Eneas and a boatman enter hastily through the concealed
door._
SCENE VIII
_The same. Master Eneas, a Boatman_
MASTER ENEAS.
My Lord Fabiani! My lord, not an instant to lose! The people know the
Queen wanted to save your life. There is a revolt of the London
populace against you. In a quarter of an hour you will be torn to
pieces. My lord, save yourself. Here is a cloak and a cap. Here are
the keys. Here is a boatman. Don't forget that you owe it all to me.
My lord, make haste! [_Low to Boatman._] Remember, you are not to
hurry.
JANE (_hastily covers Gilbert with the cloak and cap; low to
Joshua_).
Heaven! If this man will only not recognize him.
MASTER ENEAS (_looking into Gilbert's face_).
What! this is not Lord Clanbrassil. You are not fulfilling the
Queen's orders, my lady. You are helping another to escape.
JANE.
All is lost! I ought to have foreseen this! Ah, sir, it is true! Have
mercy--
MASTER ENEAS (_low to Jane_).
Silence! Go on! I have said nothing! I have seen nothing!
[_He goes up stage with an air of indifference._
JANE.
What does he say? Ah, Providence befriends us. Everybody wants to
save Gilbert.
JOSHUA.
No, my lady, everybody wants to destroy Fabiani.
[_During the entire scene the cries have increased outside._
JANE.
We must hurry, Gilbert. Come quickly.
JOSHUA.
Let him go alone!
JANE.
Leave him!
JOSHUA.
Only for a moment. No woman in the boat, if you want it to arrive
safe. It is too light yet; your dress is white. After the peril is
over, you will find each other again. Come this way with me. Let him
go that way.
JANE.
Joshua is right. Where will I find you, my Gilbert?
GILBERT.
Under the first arch of London Bridge.
JANE.
Good! Go quickly. The tumult increases. Oh, I wish you were safe
away!
JOSHUA.
Here are the keys. There are twelve doors to open and shut between
here and the water's edge. It will take you a good quarter of an
hour.
JANE.
A quarter of an hour! Twelve doors! That is frightful.
GILBERT (_embracing her_).
Good-by, Jane! A few more moments of separation and we will rejoin
each other for a life-time!
JANE.
For eternity. [_To the Boatman._] Sir, I place him in your care!
MASTER ENEAS (_low to Boatman_).
For fear of accident, don't hurry.
[_Gilbert goes out with the Boatman._
JOSHUA.
He is saved! Now for us! We must shut this cell.
[_He shuts the door of Gilbert's cell._
All right! Come quickly; this way!
[_He goes out, with Jane, through the other concealed door._
MASTER ENEAS (_alone_).
Fabiani remains in the trap. Now, there is a shrewd little woman whom
Simon Renard would have paid a good deal for. How will the Queen take
all this? Provided the consequences do not fall on my shoulders!
[_The Queen and Simon Renard enter with rapid steps. The tumult
outside has steadily increased. It is night. Cries of death, torches,
lights, sounds of moving masses; the click of arms, shots, the
stamping of horses. Several noblemen with daggers in their hands
accompany The Queen. Among them are the herald of England,
Clarence, bearing the royal banner, and the herald of the Order of
the Garter, Jarretiere, bearing the banner of that order._
SCENE IX
_The Queen, Simon Renard, Master Eneas, Lord Clinton, the two
heralds, lords, pages, etc._
The Queen (_low to Master Eneas_).
Has Fabiani escaped?
MASTER ENEAS.
Not yet!
THE QUEEN.
Not yet! [_Giving him a terrible look._
MASTER ENEAS (_aside_).
The devil!
THE PEOPLE (_outside_).
Death to Fabiani!
SIMON RENARD.
You must make your decision on the spot, madame. The people demand
this man's death! The Tower is besieged. The revolt is formidable.
Your nobles have been cut to pieces on London Bridge. Your Majesty's
pensioners hold their own yet; but, just the same, your Majesty has
been chased street by street, from the City Hall to the Tower of
London. Madame Elizabeth's followers have joined the people. You can
tell that by the venom of the mob. All this is serious. What does
your Majesty command?
THE PEOPLE.
Fabiani! Death to Fabiani!
[_They grow louder, and come nearer._
THE QUEEN.
Death to Fabiani! Do you hear that howling populace, my lords? You
must throw a man out to them. The rabble is hungry!
SIMON RENARD.
What does your Majesty command?
THE QUEEN.
By heaven, my lords! it seems to me you all stand trembling around
me! Upon my soul! must a woman show you your duty as noblemen? To
horse, my lords, to horse! Are you afraid of the rabble? Are swords
afraid of clubs?
SIMON RENARD.
Don't let things go any further. Yield, madame, while there is yet
time. You can yet say "the rabble"; in an hour you will have to say
"the people"!
[_The cries increase, the noise comes nearer._
THE QUEEN.
In an hour!
SIMON RENARD (_going to gallery and returning_).
In a quarter of an hour, madame. The first wall of the Tower is
broken down. One more step, the mob will be here.
THE PEOPLE.
To the Tower! to the Tower! Fabiani! death to Fabiani!
THE QUEEN.
How right they are who call the people terrible! Fabiano!
SIMON RENARD.
Do you want to see him torn to pieces before your eyes?
THE QUEEN.
Do you know this is infamous, that not one of you stirs? In the name
of Heaven, defend me, my lords!
LORD CLINTON.
You? yes, madame. Fabiano? no!
THE QUEEN.
Very well, I will tell you all then, so much the worse for you.
Fabiano is innocent. Fabiano never committed the crime for which he
was condemned. It was I, and this man here, and the engraver Gilbert.
We did it all; we invented it all; we imagined it all. It was all a
farce! Contradict me if you dare, Sir Bailiff! Now, gentlemen, will
you defend him? He is innocent; I swear it. On my head, on my crown,
on my God, on my mother's soul, he is innocent of the crime. It is as
true as that you stand there, Lord Clinton! Defend him! Annihilate
these wretches as you annihilated Tom Wyatt, my brave Clinton, my old
friend, my good Robert! I swear to you that it is false that Fabiano
tried to assassinate the Queen.
LORD CLINTON.
There is another Queen whom he tried to assassinate--England!
[_The cries continue outside._
THE QUEEN.
The balcony! Open the balcony. I myself will prove to the people that
he is not guilty.
SIMON RENARD.
Prove to the people that he is not Italian.
THE QUEEN.
When I think it is Simon Renard, one of Cardinal Granvelle's
creatures, who dares to speak to me like this! Well, open that door!
open that cell! Fabiano is there. I want to see him; I want to speak
to him.
SIMON RENARD (_low_).
What are you doing? For his own sake, you needn't let everybody know
where he is.
THE PEOPLE.
Death to Fabiani! Long live Elizabeth!
SIMON RENARD.
They cry long live Elizabeth, now!
THE QUEEN.
My God! My God!
SIMON RENARD.
Choose, madame [_with one hand he points to the cell_], this head to
the people [_with the other hand he designates the crown which the
Queen wears_] or that crown to Madame Elizabeth.
THE PEOPLE.
Death! Death! Fabiani! Elizabeth!
[_A stone breaks through a pane of glass near The Queen._
SIMON RENARD.
Your Majesty is destroying herself without saving him! The second
court is reached. What does the Queen command?
THE QUEEN.
You are all cowards, and Clinton is the worst of all. Ah, Clinton, I
will remember this, my friend!
SIMON RENARD.
What does the Queen command?
THE QUEEN.
Oh, to be abandoned by all of you! to have confessed all without
obtaining anything! What sort of creatures are these noblemen here?
That populace is infamous! I would like to crush them under my feet.
There are times then, when a queen is nothing but a woman? You will
pay dear for this, gentlemen!
SIMON RENARD.
What does the Queen command?
THE QUEEN (_crushed_).
Whatever you will. Do what you like. You are an assassin. [_Aside._]
Oh, Fabiano!
SIMON RENARD.
Clarence! Jarretiere! Come here! Master Eneas, open the great balcony
of the gallery.
[_The balcony in the back opens. Simon Renard steps out upon it,
Clarence at his right, Jarretiere at his left. Immense tumult outside._
THE PEOPLE.
Fabiani! Fabiani!
SIMON RENARD (_on the balcony, turned toward the people_).
In the Queen's name!
HERALDS.
In the Queen's name!
[_Profound silence outside._
SIMON RENARD.
People, the Queen bids you know this: To-day, this very night, one
hour after the curfew, Fabiano Fabiani, Earl of Clanbrassil, covered
with a black veil from head to foot, bound with an iron gag, a yellow
wax candle weighing three pounds in his hand, will be led, by
torchlight, from the Tower of London, through Charing Cross, to the
old Market-Place of the city, there to be publicly punished and
beheaded, for the crimes of high treason and attempt of regicide on
the imperial person of the Queen!
[_Immense applause outside._
THE PEOPLE.
Long live the Queen! Death to Fabiani!
SIMON RENARD (_continuing_).
And, in order that no one in this city of London shall ignore it,
this is what the Queen orders during the entire journey, which the
criminal must make from the Tower of London to the old Market-Place:
The great bell of the Tower shall toll; at the moment of the
execution, three cannon-shots will be fired--the first, when he
mounts the scaffold; the second, when he kneels upon the black cloth;
the third, when his head falls. [_Applause._]
THE PEOPLE.
Illuminate! Illuminate!
SIMON RENARD.
This night the Tower and the city of London will be illuminated with
lights and torches, in sign of joy. I have spoken. [_Applause._] God
protect the old charter of England!
THE TWO HERALDS.
God protect the old charter of England.
THE PEOPLE.
Death to Fabiani! Long live Mary! Long live the Queen!
[_The balcony is closed. Simon Renard approaches The Queen._
SIMON RENARD.
What I have just done will never be forgiven me by the Princess
Elizabeth!
THE QUEEN.
Nor by Queen Mary. Leave me, sir.
[_She dismisses them all with a gesture._
SIMON RENARD (_low to Master Eneas_).
Master Eneas, look to the execution!
MASTER ENEAS.
Count upon me!
[_Simon Renard goes out. As Master Eneas is about to go, The
Queen rushes to him, seizes him by the arm and drags him violently
to the front of the stage._
SCENE X
The Queen, Master Eneas
THE PEOPLE (_outside_).
Death to Fabiani! Fabiani! Fabiani!
THE QUEEN.
Whose head is worth most at this moment, do you think--Fabiani's or
yours?
MASTER ENEAS.
Madame!
THE QUEEN.
You are a traitor!
MASTER ENEAS.
Madame! [_Aside._] The devil!
THE QUEEN.
No explanations! I swear by my mother, if Fabiano dies, you die!
MASTER ENEAS.
But, madame--
THE QUEEN.
Save Fabiano, and you save yourself--not otherwise!
THE PEOPLE.
Death to Fabiani! Fabiani!
MASTER ENEAS.
Save the Earl of Clanbrassil? But the people are out there! It is
impossible! By what means?
THE QUEEN.
Find some!
MASTER ENEAS.
What could I do?
THE QUEEN.
Do what you would for yourself.
MASTER ENEAS.
The people will keep armed until after the execution. To satisfy
them, somebody must be beheaded!
THE QUEEN.
Anybody you please.
MASTER ENEAS.
Anybody I please? Wait, madame! The execution will be at night, by
torchlight; the criminal covered with a black veil, gagged; the
people kept a long way from the scaffold by the pike-men, the same as
always. It is enough, if the people see a head fall. The thing is
possible. If only the boatman is there yet! I told him not to hurry.
[_He goes to the window which overlooks the Thames._
There he is, but we're just in time!
[_He leans out of the window, a torch in his hand, waving his
handkerchief, then he turns to The Queen._
All right! I will answer for Lord Fabiani, madame!
THE QUEEN.
On your head?
MASTER ENEAS.
On my head!
THIRD DAY
PART II
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!
[Illustration: MARION DE LORME.]
_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.
That's enough!
Each sword is lightning flashing in the dark.
Come, Marquis!
[_Both throw off their cloaks, take off their hats with which they
salute each other, throwing them afterward on the ground. Then they draw
their swords._
SAVERNY.
At your service, sir.
DIDIER.
Now! _Garde!_
[_They cross swords and fence, silently and furiously. Suddenly the
small door opens, Marion in a white dress appears._
SCENE IV
_The same._ Marion
MARION.
What is this noise?
[_Perceiving Didier under the lamp._
Didier!
[_To the combatants._] Stop!
[_They continue._] Ho! The guard!
SAVERNY.
Who is this woman?
DIDIER (_turning_).
Heaven!
BOUCHAVANNES (_running, to Saverny_).
All is lost!
That woman's cry went through the town.
I saw the archers' rapiers flash.
[_The Archers with torches enter._
BRICHANTEAU (_to Saverny_).
Seem dead,
Or you will be so!
SAVERNY (_falling down_).
Ah!
[_Low to Brichanteau, who bends over him._
Oh, damn these stones.
[_Didier, who thinks he has killed him, pauses._
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT.
Hold! In the King's name!
BRICHANTEAU (_to the noblemen_).
We must save the Marquis.
He's a dead man if he is caught.
[_The noblemen surround Saverny._
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT.
Zounds, sirs!
To fight a duel 'neath the very light
Of the edict is bold indeed!
[_To Didier._] Give up
Your sword.
[_The Archers seize Didier, who stands apart, and disarm him. The
Captain indicates Saverny stretched upon the ground and surrounded by
the noblemen._
That other man with dull eyes, who
Is he? What is his name?
BRICHANTEAU.
His name's Gaspard,
Marquis de Saverny, and he is dead.
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT.
Dead, is he? Then his trouble's over. Good!
This dead man's worth more than the other.
MARION (_frightened_).
What!
CAPTAIN OF THE DISTRICT (_to Didier_).
The whole affair rests now with you, sir. Come!
[_The Archers lead Didier off on one side, the noblemen carry
Saverny off on the other._
DIDIER (_to Marion, who is motionless from horror_).
Forget me, Marion. Good-by! [_They exit._
SCENE V
Marion, L'Angely
MARION (_rushing to detain him_).
Didier!
What do you mean? Good-by? Why this good-by?
Wherefore forget you?
[_The Soldiers push her off; she approaches L'Angely with anguish._
Is he lost for this?
What did he do? What will they do to him?
L'ANGELY (_takes her hand and leads her in silence before the edict_).
Read this!
MARION (_reads, and starts back with horror_).
My God! Just God! Condemned to death!
They've taken him away. To kill him! Oh,
I brought this ruin on him with my cries!
I called for help, but my unhappy voice
Found death in the dark streets and brought her here.
Impossible! A duel is no crime! [_To L'Angely._
They'll not kill him for that?
L'ANGELY.
I think they will.
MARION.
He can escape!
L'ANGELY.
The prison walls are high!
MARION.
I've brought this crime upon him with my sins.
God strikes him for my sake! My Didier! love!
[_To L'Angely._] Nothing on earth seemed good enough for him!
A prison cell--my God! Death! Torture too!
L'ANGELY.
Perhaps! It all depends--
MARION.
I'll find the King!
He has a royal heart; he pardons.
L'ANGELY.
Yes,
The King does, not the Cardinal.
MARION.
Then, what--
What can I do?
L'ANGELY.
A capital offense,
Nothing can save him from the fatal rope.
MARION.
Oh, grief!
[_To L'Angely._] You freeze my blood, sir. Who are you?
L'ANGELY.
I'm the King's jester!
MARION.
Oh, my Didier, love,
I'm lost, unworthy; but what God can do
With a weak woman's hands, I'll show to you.
Go on, my love; I follow!
[_She goes out on the side from which Didier left._
L'ANGELY (_alone_).
God knows where!
[_Picking up the sword which Didier left on the ground._
Among all these, who'd think I was the fool? [_He goes out._
_ACT III_
THE COMEDY
Scene.--_The Castle of Nangis. A park in the style of Henry IV. In the
background on an elevation, the Castle of Nangis, part new, part old, is
visible. The old, a castle-keep with arches and turrets: the new, a
large brick house with corners of wrought stone, and pointed roof. The
large door of the castle-keep is hung with black: from afar one
distinguishes a coat-of-arms--that of the families of Nangis and of
Saverny_
SCENE I
_M. DE LAFFEMAS, undress costume of a magistrate of the period.
Marquis de Saverny, disguised as an officer of the Regiment of Anjou;
with black mustache and imperial, and a plaster on the eye_
LAFFEMAS.
Then you were present, sir, at the attack?
SAVERNY (_pulling his mustache_).
I was his comrade: had that honor, sir!
But he is dead!
LAFFEMAS.
The Marquis de Saverny?
SAVERNY.
Yes, from a thrust in tierce, which burst the doublet,
Then carved its cruel way between the ribs
Through to the chest and to the liver, which,
As you well know, makes blood. The wound was fearful.
'Twas horrible to see!
LAFFEMAS.
He died at once?
SAVERNY.
Almost. His agony was short. I watched
The spasm follow frenzy; tetanos
Then came, and after opisthotonos
There followed improstathonos.
LAFFEMAS.
The deuce!
SAVERNY.
So that I calculate 'tis false to say
The blood passes the jugular. Pequet
And learned men should be condemned when they
Dissect live dogs to study 'bout the lungs.
LAFFEMAS.
The poor marquis is dead.
SAVERNY.
A thrust is fatal.
LAFFEMAS.
You are a doctor, sir, of medicine?
SAVERNY.
No.
LAFFEMAS.
You have studied it?
SAVERNY.
Somewhat.
In Aristotle.
LAFFEMAS.
You can talk it well!
SAVERNY.
Faith! I've a most malicious sort of heart.
I like destruction; find delight in evil;
I love to kill! So that I thought I'd be
A soldier or a doctor, sir, at twenty.
But I hesitated long, and finally
I chose the sword. It's not so sure, but twice
As quick. There was a time, I will confess,
I longed to be a poet or an actor,
Or an exhibitor of bears--but then,
I like dinner and supper every day.
A plague upon the poetry and bears!
LAFFEMAS.
With this hope in your mind you studied verse?
SAVERNY.
A little bit, in Aristotle. Yes--
LAFFEMAS.
The Marquis knew you?
SAVERNY.
He knew me as well
As a lieutenant knows an upstart soldier.
I belonged to Monsieur de Caussade first,
Who gave me to the Marquis' colonel. Poor
The present, but we do the best we can!
They made me officer--I'm worth as much
As any, and I wear a black mustache.
That is my history.
LAFFEMAS.
They sent you here
To notify the uncle?
SAVERNY.
Yes; I came
With Brichanteau, the cousin, and the corpse.
He will be buried here--where, if he'd lived,
He would have had his wedding!
LAFFEMAS.
Tell me how
The old Marquis de Nangis bore the news.
SAVERNY.
With calmness, without tears.
LAFFEMAS.
He loved him though?
SAVERNY.
As much as we love life. Having no children
Of his own he had but this one passion--
His nephew, whom he dearly loved, although
They had not seen each other for five years.
[_In the background, the old Marquis de Nangis passes; white hair,
pale countenance, arms folded across his breast, dress of the day of
Henry IV.: deep mourning; the star and the ribbon of the order of the
Holy Ghost. He walks slowly; nine guards in three rows follow; they are
dressed in mourning, their halberds on their right shoulder, their
muskets on their left; they keep within a short distance, stopping when
he stops, and continuing when he continues._
LAFFEMAS (_watching him pass_).
Poor man!
[_He goes to the back and follows The Marquis with his eyes._
SAVERNY (_aside_).
My good old uncle!
[_Brichanteau enters and goes to Saverny._