Comedy of Marriage and Other Tales

SCENE IV

(The same with Jean and Gilberte.)

JEAN [approaches Mme. de Ronchard and speaks to her]

Do you know of whom we were talking just now? We were talking of you.

LÉON [aside]

Ahem! ahem!

JEAN

Yes; I was just saying that I had not made you a present on the occasion of my nuptials, because the choosing of it demanded a great deal of reflection.

MME. DE RONCHARD [dryly]

But Gilberte made me a very pretty one for you both, Monsieur.

JEAN

But that is not enough. I have been looking for something which I thought would be particularly acceptable to you; and do you know what I found? It is a very small thing, but I ask you, Madame, to be so good as to accept this little pocketbook, which holds some bank-notes, for the benefit of your dear little deserted pets. You can add to your home for these little pets some additional kennels on the sole condition that you will allow me from time to time to come and pet your little pensioners, and on the additional condition that you will not pick out the most vicious among them to greet me.

MME. DE RONCHARD [greatly impressed]

With all my heart, I thank you. How good of you to think of my poor little orphans!

LÉON [whispers to Jean]

You diplomat, you!

JEAN

There is nothing extraordinary about it, Madame. I am very fond of dumb animals. They are really the foster-brothers of man, sacrificed for them, slaves to them, and in many cases their food. They are the true martyrs of the world.

MME. DE RONCHARD

What you say is very true, Monsieur, and I have often thought of it in that way. For instance, take those poor horses, scourged and beaten by coachmen in the streets.

LÉON [with sarcastic emphasis]

And the pheasants, Auntie, and the partridges and the blackcock falling on all sides under a hail of lead, flying panic-stricken before the horrible massacre of the guns.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Oh, don’t talk like that, it makes me shudder; it is horrible!

JEAN [turns to Gilberte]

Horrible, indeed!

LÉON [after a pause, in light tone]

Perhaps so, but they are good eating.

MME. DE RONCHARD

You are pitiless.

LÉON [aside to his aunt]

Pitiless, perhaps, toward animals, but not pitiless, like you, toward people.

MME. DE RONCHARD [in the same tone]

What do you mean by that?

LÉON [in the same tone pointing to Jean and Gilberte, who are seated on a sofa R.]

Do you think that your presence here can be acceptable to those two lovers? [Takes her arm.] My father has certainly finished smoking; come into the billiard-room for a little while.

MME. DE RONCHARD

And what are you going to do?

LÉON

I am going down into my study on the ground floor, and I shall come up here after a little while.

MME. DE RONCHARD [sarcastically]

Your study, indeed – your studio – you mean, you rascal, where your clients are – models —

LÉON [with mock modesty]

Oh, Auntie. My clients, at least, don’t unrobe – alas! [Exit Léon R., giving a mock benediction to the lovers.] Children, receive my benediction!

[Exit Madame de Ronchard C.]

SCENE V

(Jean and Gilberte seated on the sofa at right.)

JEAN

At last, you are my wife, Mademoiselle.

GILBERTE

Mademoiselle?

JEAN

Forgive me. I hardly know how to address you.

GILBERTE

Call me Gilberte. There is nothing shocking about that, is there?

JEAN

Gilberte, at last, at last, at last, you are my wife!

GILBERTE

And truly, not without a good deal of trouble.

JEAN

And what a dainty, energetic little creature you are! How you fought with your father, and with your aunt, for it is only through you, and thanks to you, that we are married, for which I thank you with all my heart – the heart which belongs to you.

GILBERTE

But it is only because I trusted you, and that is all.

JEAN

And have you only trust for me?

GILBERTE

Stupid boy! You know that you pleased me. If you had only pleased me, my confidence in you would have been useless. One must love first. Without that, Monsieur, nothing can come.

JEAN

Call me Jean, just as I have called you Gilberte.

GILBERTE [hesitates]

But that is not altogether the same thing. It seems to me – that – that – I cannot do it. [Rises and crosses L.]

JEAN [rises]

But I love you. I am no trifler, believe me; I love you. I am the man who loves you because he has found in you qualities that are inestimable. You are one of those perfect creatures who have as much brains as sentiment; and the sentimentality that permeates you is not the sickly sentimentality of ordinary women. It is that gloriously beautiful faculty of tenderness which characterizes great souls, and which one never meets elsewhere in the world. And then, you are so beautiful, so graceful, with a grace that is all your own, and I, who am a painter, you know how I adore the beautiful. Then, above everything, you drew me to you, but not only that, you wiped out the traces of the world from my mind and eyes.

GILBERTE

I like to hear you say that. But, don’t talk any more just now in that way, because it embarrasses me. However, I know, for I try to foresee everything, that to enjoy these things I must listen to them to-day, for your words breathe the passion of a lover. Perhaps in the future your words will be as sweet, for they could not help being so when a man speaks as you spoke and loves as you appear to love, but at the same time, they will be different.

JEAN

Oh!

GILBERTE [sits on stool near the table]

Tell me it over again.

JEAN

What drew me to you was the mysterious harmony between your natural form and the soul within it. Do you recollect my first visit to this house?

GILBERTE

Oh, yes, very well. My brother brought you to dinner, and I believe that you did not wish to come.

JEAN [laughs]

If that were true, it was very indiscreet of your brother to tell you. And he told you that? I am annoyed that he did so, and I confess I did hesitate somewhat, for you know I was an artist accustomed to the society of artists, which is lively, witty, and sometimes rather free, and I felt somewhat disturbed at the idea of entering a house so serious as yours – a house peopled by dignified lawyers and young ladies. But I was so fond of your brother, I found him so full of novelty, so gay, so wittily sarcastic and discerning, under his assumed levity, that not only did I go everywhere with him, but I followed him to the extent of meeting you. And I never cease to thank him for it. Do you remember when I entered the drawing-room where you and your family were sitting, you were arranging in a china vase some flowers that had just been sent to you?

GILBERTE

I do.

JEAN

Your father spoke to me of my Uncle Martinel, whom he had formerly known. This at once formed a link between us, for all the time that I was talking to him I was watching you arrange your flowers.

GILBERTE [smiles]

You looked far too long and too steadfastly for a first introduction.

JEAN

I was looking at you as an artist looks, and was admiring you, for I found your figure, your movements, and your entire self attractive. And then for the last six months I have often come to this house, to which your brother invited me and whither your presence attracted me, and finally I felt your sway as a lover feels the sway of the one he adores. There was an inexplicable, unseen attraction calling me to you. [Sits beside her R. of table.] Then a dim idea entered my brain, – an idea that one day you might become my wife. It gained possession of my soul, and I immediately took steps to renew the friendship between your father and my uncle. The two men again became friends. Did you never divine my maneuvers?

GILBERTE

Divine your maneuvers? No, I suspected a little at times, but I was so astounded that a man like you – in the full flush of success, so well known, so sought after – should concern himself with such a little, unimportant girl as I, that, really, I could place no faith in the sincerity of your attention.

JEAN

Nevertheless, we quickly knew how to understand each other, did we not?

GILBERTE

Your character pleased me. I felt that you were loyal, and then you entertained me greatly, for you brought into our house that artistic air which gave my fancies life. I ought to tell you that my brother had already warned me that I should like you. You know that Léon loves you.

JEAN

I know it, and I think it was in his brain that the first idea of our marriage had birth. [After a short silence] You remember our return from Saint-Germain after we had dined in the Henri IV. Pavilion?

GILBERTE

I remember it well.

JEAN

My uncle and your aunt were in the front of the landau, and you and I on the rear seat, and in another carriage were your father and Léon. What a glorious spring night! But how coldly you treated me!

GILBERTE

I was so embarrassed!

JEAN

You ought to recall that I put to you that day a question which I had already asked you, because you cannot deny that I had paid you very tender attention and that you had captured my heart.

GILBERTE

True. Nevertheless it surprised and upset me. Oh, how often have I remembered it since! But I have never been able to recall the very words you used. Do you remember them?

JEAN

No; they came from my lips, issuing from the bottom of my heart like a prayer for mercy. I only know that I told you that I should never re-enter your house if you did not give me some little hope that there should be a day when you would know me better. You pondered a long time before you answered me, but you spoke in such a low tone that I was anxious to make you repeat it.

GILBERTE [takes up his sentence and speaks as if in a dream]

I said that it would pain me greatly if I should see you no more.

JEAN

Yes, that is what you said.

GILBERTE

You have forgotten nothing!

JEAN

Could anyone forget that? [With deep emotion.] Do you know what I think? As we look at each other and examine our hearts, our souls, our mutual understanding, our love, I verily believe that we have set out on the true road to happiness. [Kisses her. For a moment they are silent.]

GILBERTE [rises]

But I must leave you. [Goes toward door L.] I must prepare for our journey. Meanwhile, go and find my father.

JEAN [follows her]

Yes, but tell me before you go that you love me.

GILBERTE

Yes – I love you.

JEAN [kisses her forehead]

My only one.

[Exit Gilberte L., a second after. Enter M. Martinel C. with a very agitated air, and a letter in his hand.]

MARTINEL [perceives Jean, quickly slips the letter into his pocket; then, recollecting himself]

Have you seen Léon?

JEAN

No, are you looking for him?

MARTINEL

No, no, I have just a word to say to him concerning an engagement of small importance.

JEAN [perceives Léon]

Wait a moment. Here he comes.

[Enter Léon R. Exit Jean. C.]

SCENE VI

(Martinel and Léon.)

MARTINEL [goes quickly up to Léon]

I must have five minutes with you. Something terrible has happened. Never in the course of my life have I been placed in so awkward and so embarrassing a situation.

LÉON

Quick! What is it?

MARTINEL

I had just finished my game at billiards when a servant brought me a letter addressed to M. Martinel, without any Christian name by which to identify it, but with these words on the letter “Exceedingly urgent.” I thought it was addressed to me, so I tore open the envelope, and I read words intended for Jean – words which have well-nigh taken away my reason. I came to find you in order to ask advice, for this is a thing which must be decided upon the moment.

LÉON

Tell me, what is it?

MARTINEL

I am responsible for my own actions, M. Léon, and I would ask advice of no one if the matter concerned myself only, but unfortunately it concerns Jean; therefore, I hesitate – the matter is so grave, and then the secret is not mine – I came upon it accidentally.

LÉON

Tell me quickly, and do not doubt my faith.

MARTINEL

I do not doubt your faith. Here is the letter. It is from Dr. Pellerin, who is Jean’s physician, who is his friend, our friend, a good fellow, a free liver, and a physician to many women of the world, and one who would not write such things unless necessity compelled him. [Hands the letter to Léon, who holds it close to his eyes.]

LÉON [reads]

“MY DEAR FRIEND:

“I am more than annoyed at having to communicate with you upon this evening, above every other evening, upon such a subject as this. But I am sure that if I did otherwise you would never forgive me. Your former mistress, Henriette Lévêque, is dying and would bid you farewell. [Throws a glance at Martinel who signs to him to continue.] She will not live through the night. She dies after bringing into the world, some fifteen days ago, a child who on her deathbed she swears is yours. So long as she was in no danger, she determined to leave you in ignorance of this child’s existence. But, to-day, doomed to death, she calls to you. I know how you have loved her in the past. But you must do as you think fit. She lives in the Rue Chaptal at Number 31. Let me know how I can serve you, my dear fellow, and believe me,

“Always yours,

“PELLERIN.”

MARTINEL

There you are. That letter came this evening. That is to say, at the one moment above all others when such a misfortune could threaten the whole future – the whole life of your sister and of Jean. What would you do if you were I? Would you keep this confounded letter, or would you give it to him? If I keep it, we may save appearances, but such an act would be unworthy of me.

LÉON [energetically]

I should say so. You must give the letter to Jean.

MARTINEL

Well, what will he do?

LÉON

He alone is the judge of his own actions. We have no right to hide anything from him.

MARTINEL

Supposing he consults me?

LÉON

He will not do it. In such situations a man consults only his conscience.

MARTINEL

But he treats me like a father. If he hesitates a moment between his attention to his wife and the effacement of his happiness, what shall I tell him to do?

LÉON

Just what you would do yourself in like case.

MARTINEL

My impulse would be to go to the woman. What would be yours?

LÉON [resolutely]

I should go.

MARTINEL

But how about your sister?

LÉON [sadly, seating himself by the table]

Yes, my poor little sister! What an awakening for her!

MARTINEL [after a few seconds’ hesitation, crosses abruptly from L. to R.]

No; it is too hard a thing to do. I shall not give him this letter. I shall be blamed perhaps, but so much the worse. In any case, I save him.

LÉON

You cannot do such a thing, sir. We both know my sister, poor little girl, and I am sure that if this marriage is annulled, she will die. [Rises.] When a man has for three years enjoyed the love of such a woman as the one who sends for him, he cannot refuse to see her on her deathbed whatever may happen.

MARTINEL

What will Gilberte do?

LÉON

She worships Jean – but you know how proud she is.

MARTINEL

Will she accept the situation? Will she forgive it?

LÉON

Of that I am very doubtful, especially after all that has been said about this poor girl in the family circle. But what does that matter? Jean must be warned at once. I am going to find him and bring him to you. [Rises as if to go out C.]

MARTINEL

Well, how would you like me to tell him?

LÉON Simply give him the letter. [Exit Léon C.]

SCENE VII

MARTINEL [alone]

Poor children! in the midst of their happiness and at the zenith of joy! And that other poor girl, who is now suffering and slowly dying! Heavens! How unjust and how cruel life is at times.

SCENE VIII

(Re-enter Léon with Jean)

JEAN [walks briskly to C. of stage]

What is it all about?

MARTINEL

One minute, my poor boy; read this, and forgive me for having opened your letter. I opened it because I thought it was intended for me. [Gives letter to Jean, and watches him read it. Léon also watches him, standing L.]

JEAN [after reading the letter, speaks to himself in a low tone, touched with deep but contained emotion]

I must do it! I owe it to her! [To Martinel.] Uncle, I leave my wife in your charge. Say nothing until I return, and remain here till I come back. Wait for me. [Turns to Léon.] I know you well enough to realize that you do not disapprove of what I am doing. To you I confide my future. I am going. [Turns to the door R., but after casting a glance at the door L., which leads to his wife’s chamber, says to Léon.] To you I owe the love your sister has bestowed upon me. Help me now to preserve it.

[Exit quickly R.]

SCENE IX

(Martinel and Léon.)

MARTINEL [seated R.]

What shall we do now? What are we going to say? What explanations can we give?

LÉON

Let me manage it. It is only right that I should do it since I brought about this marriage.

MARTINEL [rises]

Well, I’d dearly love to be forty-eight hours older. [Rising.] I confess I do not like these love tragedies, and moreover the fact of the child entering into the case is awful. What is going to become of that poor little mortal? We cannot send him to the foundling asylum. [Enter Gilberte L.] Gilberte!

SCENE X

Gilberte has removed her marriage robes, and now wears a handsome house gown. She carries an opera cloak, which she throws over a chair neat the door.

GILBERTE

Where is Jean?

LÉON

Do not be disturbed, he will be back directly.

GILBERTE [in astonishment]

Has he gone out?

LÉON

Yes.

GILBERTE

Gone out? And on this evening, above all others!

LÉON

A sudden and grave circumstance compelled him to go out for an hour.

GILBERTE [excitedly]

What is going on? What is it that you are hiding from me? Your story is impossible. Some awful misfortune must have happened.

LÉON AND MARTINEL [together]

Oh, no, no!

GILBERTE

Then, what is it? Tell me! Speak!

LÉON

I cannot tell you anything. Be patient for an hour. It is Jean’s duty to tell you of the sudden and unexpected call which has summoned him hence at such a time.

GILBERTE

What curious words you use! A sudden and unexpected call? He is an orphan – his uncle is his only relative, – then what? Who? Why? Oh, God, how you frighten me!

LÉON

There are duties of many kinds, my dear; friendship, pity, sympathy can impose many of them. But I must not say any more. Be patient for an hour, I implore you.

GILBERTE [to Martinel]

And you, Uncle? Speak! I implore you! What is he doing? Where has he gone? I feel – oh, I feel the shadow of a terrible misfortune hovering over us; speak, I entreat.

MARTINEL [with tears in his eyes]

But I cannot tell you any more, my dear child. I cannot. Like your brother, I promised to say nothing, and I would have done just as Jean has done. Wait for an hour, I beseech you – just an hour.

GILBERTE

And you, too, are upset. It must be a catastrophe.

MARTINEL

No, no! The fact that you are so distressed agitates me, because you know I love you with my whole heart. [Embraces her.]

GILBERTE [to Léon]

You have spoken of friendship, of pity, and of sympathy, but if it were any of these reasons you could tell me so; meanwhile, as I look at you two, I feel that here is some unspoken reason, some mystery which appalls me.

LÉON [resolutely]

My dear little sister, won’t you trust in me?

GILBERTE

Yes, you ought to know all.

LÉON

Will you trust me absolutely?

GILBERTE

Absolutely.

LÉON

I swear to you, on my faith as a gentleman, that I would have done just as Jean has done; that his absolute fidelity to you, his fidelity, which perhaps is even exaggerated by love for you, is the only reason which had led him to forget at this very moment the very thing that he has gone to learn anew.

GILBERTE [looks Léon straight in the eyes]

I believe you, Léon, and I thank you. Nevertheless, I tremble yet and I shall tremble until he returns. If you swear to me that my husband was entirely ignorant of the cause which has made him leave me at this supreme moment, I will content myself as well as I can, trusting in you two. [She stretches both hands to the two men.]

SCENE XI

(The same, with M. de Petitpré and Mme. de Ronchard, who enters quickly C.)

PETITPRÉ

What is this I hear? Jean Martinel gone out?

MARTINEL

He is coming back very soon, sir.

PETITPRÉ

But why on earth did he go out on such an evening as this without a word of explanation to his wife? [Turns to Gilberte] You know nothing about it, do you?

GILBERTE [seated L. of table]

Father, I know nothing at all about it.

MME. DE RONCHARD

And without a word of explanation to the family! That is indeed a lack of courtesy.

PETITPRÉ [to Martinel]

And why has he acted in this way, sir?

MARTINEL

Your son knows as much as I do, sir; but neither of us can reveal it to you. Moreover, your daughter has consented to wait until she can learn all about it from her husband on his return.

PETITPRÉ

My daughter has consented – but I do not consent! Besides, it seems that you alone were forewarned of this sudden departure.

MME. DE RONCHARD [in agitation to Martinel]

It was to you they brought the letter, and you were the one who read it first.

MARTINEL

You are correctly informed, Madame; a letter was delivered here, but I would not shoulder the responsibility of this matter, and I showed the letter to your son, sir [turns to Petitpré], and asked his advice with the intention of following it.

LÉON

The advice that I gave is exactly what my brother-in-law has done of his own volition, and I esteem him all the more for it.

PETITPRÉ [turns to Léon]

It is I who should have been consulted, not you. If Jean’s action is indeed excusable, his want of courtesy is absolutely unpardonable.

MME. DE RONCHARD

It is scandalous!

LÉON [to M. Petitpré]

Yes, it would have been better to consult you, but the urgency of the matter did not allow it. You would have discussed the matter; my aunt would have discussed the matter; we should all have discussed the matter the whole night long, and you know there are times when one cannot afford to lose even seconds. Silence was necessary until Jean’s return. When he does return he will hide nothing from you, and I feel sure that you will judge him as I myself have judged him.

MME. DE RONCHARD [turns to Martinel]

But this letter, from whom did it come?

MARTINEL

Oh, I can tell you that. It came from a physician.

MME. DE RONCHARD

From a physician – a physician – then he must have a sick patient – and it is on account of this patient that he made Jean come to him. But who is the patient? Oh, ho! I surmise that it is a woman – that woman – his former mistress, who has played this card today. Sick! I suppose she has made a pretense of poisoning herself in order to show him that she loves him still and will always love him. Oh, the little wretch! [To Léon.] This is the kind of people you stand up for! Yes, you!

LÉON

It would be only reasonable, my dear Aunt, not to air all these revolting theories of yours in Gilberte’s presence, especially when you really know nothing at all.

GILBERTE [rises]

Do not speak any more about it, I pray you. Everything that I have heard just now distresses me beyond measure. I will wait for my husband; I do not wish to know anything except from his lips, as I have absolute confidence in him. If misfortune has threatened us, I will not hear such things talked of. [Exit L, accompanied by Petitpré. Short silence.]

MME. DE RONCHARD [turns to Léon]

Well, Léon, do you always win? You see what charming fellows these husbands are – every one of them!