tales of two people 50

tales of two people 50

Marquise. I--I heard you had escaped.

 

Due. Ah, madame, I can no longer expect justice from you--only mercy.

And--excuse me--M. le Marquis?

 

Marquise. He--he has gone--

 

Duc. Ah yes, yes. He went before us? I remember now. Er--my condolences,

Marquise. But on what pretext are you----?

 

Marquise. They say that, as his wife, I shared his designs and was in

his confidence.

 

Duc. How little they know of the world! (_Smiling._) As his wife--in his

confidence! How simple the blackguards are! (_Looks at her._) I protest

I feel my presence inopportune.

 

Marquise. No. (_She holds out a little silver box._) Will you hold this

for me? (_He takes it._) You may look. (_Opening it he finds rouge and a

powder-puff. The_ MARQUISE _smiles faintly_.)

 

Duc. (_Shutting box._) On my honour you’ve no need of it this morning.

Your cheeks display the most charming flush. Ah, we move. (_She

starts._) Yes, yes, it jolts horribly. But I won’t drop the rouge.

 

Marquise. Will it take long?

 

Duc. It? (_Shrugs his shoulders._) Oh, before you know--before you know!

 

Marquise. No, no--I mean the journey.

 

Duc. Ah, the journey! It will seem short now. Before you came, I feared

the tedium--though the crowd’s amusing enough. Look at that fellow! Why

in heaven’s name does he shake his fist at me? He’s not one of my

people, not even from my province. (_Smiles at the crowd and seats

himself by the_ MARQUISE.) You’re silent. Ah, I remember, now I

remember! When we parted last, you vowed you’d never speak to me again.

 

Marquise. I thought I never should.

 

Duc. The things we think we never shall do include all the most

delightful things we do.

 

Marquise. You seem to flatter yourself, monsieur. I meant what I said

then: but times are changed.

 

Duc. Faith, yes! The times more than I.

 

Marquise. More than you? Ah, changeful times!

 

Duc. And their changes bring more grief than any of mine could.

 

Marquise. Oh, as for grief--! It was your rudeness I deplored, more than

my loss.

 

Duc. I am never rude, madame. I may have been----

 

Marquise. (_Low._) Unfaithful?

 

Duc. (_Low._) Unworthy, madame. (_She looks at him for a moment and

sighs. He smiles and is about to speak when a great shout is heard from

the direction of the Place Louis Quinze. She starts, turns a little

pale, and involuntarily stretches out a hand to him._)

 

Marquise. What’s that? What’s happening?

 

Duc. Oh, they’re excited! In truth, my dear Marquise, I have long

wished----

 

Marquise. No, no--what was the shouting?

 

Duc. Well--er--in fact, I imagine that the first of our friends must

have arrived.

 

Marquise. (_Low._) Arrived! (_He smiles, takes her hand and kisses it,

then holds out the rouge-box with an air of mockery._) No, no--I won’t.

 

Duc. Why, no! We’ve no need of it. Let me bring the colour to your

cheeks. Once on a time I--well, at least I have been there when it came.

Ah, it comes now! Listen to me. I have long wished to----

 

Marquise. To explain?

 

Duc. (_Smiling._) Ah, you were always a little--a little--exacting. No,

no; nobody can explain these things. I wished only to----

 

Marquise. You daren’t apologise!

 

Duc. Ah, and you never were quite just to my good breeding. No again! I

wished to tell you frankly that I made a very great mistake. (_A voice

from the crowd shouts “To Hell with them!” The_ DUC _laughs_.) The

Church’s prerogatives follow the King’s! Ah well! A terrible mistake,

Marquise.

 

Marquise. (_Low, but eagerly._) You suspected me of----? Was that why

you----?

 

Duc. No. I suspected her.

 

Marquise. Her? But of what?

 

Duc. Of wit, madame, and of charm. I was most unjust.

 

Marquise. (_Smiling._) And not perhaps of one other thing--in which

respect you were unjust too?

 

Duc. (_Looking at her a moment and then smiling._) No, no--on my honour

I was not refused.

 

Marquise. Oh, not refused! (_She turns away._)

 

Duc. Shall I tell you the reason of that?

 

Marquise. Can’t I--I at least--guess the reason?

 

Duc. You least of all can guess it. I did not ask, Marquise.

 

Marquise. (_Turning quickly to him._) You didn’t----?

 

Duc. On my word, no. You’ll ask me why not?

 

Marquise. Why not, indeed? It was unlike you, monsieur.

 

Duc. I thought of you--and behold, it became impossible. At the moment

your image---- (_Another great shout is heard._) Hum, they never get

tired of the sight, it seems. (_He glances at the_ MARQUISE, _but she

has not noticed the shout. He takes her hand and presses it gently._)

 

Marquise. Is it true? You ought to tell the truth now.

 

Duc. Now? (_Laughs._) Ah, yes!

 

Marquise. Really true? (_She draws her hand away sharply._)

 

Duc. You don’t believe me?

 

Marquise. Yes, I believe you. But--but how stupid you were, monsieur!

 

Duc. Eh?

 

Marquise. How stupid you were, monsieur.

 

Duc. True. (_Takes snuff._) True, by heaven! I was--monstrous stupid.

 

Marquise. To think that you could----

 

Duc. Love her?

 

Marquise. Forget me, monsieur. Alas, I lose all my pride in----

(_Pauses._)

 

Duc. In----? (_Pauses. They smile and she blushes._)

 

Marquise. In any compliments you may have paid me.

 

Duc. (_Softly._) You won’t forgive me? Well, it’s the fashion now! I

must die twice to-day?

 

Marquise. Twice--die twice! (_Looks at him and trembles a little._) I--I

had almost forgotten what--where we were. (_A fierce shout is heard,

sounding nearer now._) Louis, they’ll--they’ll do nothing worse

than--kill me? You don’t answer, Louis!

 

Duc. Yes, yes. There’s no fear--no fear of that.

 

Marquise. But you hesitated.

 

Duc. (_Low._) If we must talk of death, pray let it be of mine. (_She

glances at him and lays her hand on his for a moment._) Yours seems

too--too---- (_Smiles._) I want a word. Well, too incongruous, dear

Marquise.

 

Marquise. I have confessed--and forgiven all my enemies.

 

Duc. Am I your enemy? Have you no forgiveness left for friends? (_She

looks at him gravely for a moment, then smiles reluctantly._) Why, we

were growing grave! That would be a bad ending.

 

Marquise. The most seemly ending!

 

Duc. For me? Oh, oh, Marquise! They’d think they’d got hold of the wrong

man. Your hand’s a trifle cold.

 

Marquise. (_Laughing nervously._) Well, if it is? We’ve stopped again!

Are we near now?

 

Duc. At the entrance of the _Place_, I believe. (_Looks at her and goes

on quickly._) You and I have walked here together before now. You

remember? Alone together--so often. (_Rises._) Forgive me--as you face

towards the _Place_ the sun is in your eyes. Pray sit the other way.

It’s pleasanter to look towards the river--cooler to the eye. You

remember our walks, dear Marquise?

 

Marquise. You still look towards the _Place_, though.

 

Duc. (_Laughing._) Why yes! I can’t have the dogs saying I daren’t----

 

Marquise. Are they to say it of me then, monsieur? (_She rises and

stands by him, looking towards the Place, where the scaffold is now

visible._)

 

Duc. (_Removing his hat and bowing humbly._) I beg your pardon.

 

Marquise. (_Very low._) Dear Louis, dear Louis!