Marion de Lorme — Act 2
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!
