PLACE—A room in the Chateau. FANCHON at work.
FAN. Well, if I'm not the most bewildered girl!
Two lovers are mine, but which of them to choose
I know me not, for if I choose this one
The other suffers. If I say p**nac,
I pity Piotr. If I choose Piotr,
I think of p**nac. Ten times a day I try
To choose in this wise, counting on my fingers:
Piotr, p**nac, p**nac, Piotr,
p**nac, the odds have it. It is p**nac.
But when I favor p**nac it is Piotr.
Heigho, heigho! What is a maid to do
When man, poor, silly man, doth come to woo?
Nor is there much to choose betwixt the two.
p**nac is stout and ruddy, full of mirth,
But too familiar; doth not reverence enough.
Piotr is lean and tall, but much too backward.
I hate a roisterer, but I dread a muff.
If one were only what the other is not,
The other only what the—(starts) Ha, what's that?
Enter PIOTR.
PIO. Fanchon!
FAN. Sir, you here?
PIO. Yea—that is, I think so—that is—I'll go and see.
[Turns to go.
FAN. Noodle! [Page 149]
PIO. Nay, but, Fanchon—(aside) She ever mocks me thus.
FAN. Nay, noodle. Say, why are you always going?
PIO. I know not, save that I am always coming.
FAN. Well, solemn sir, what do you want of me?
PIO. I came—I came—to—to see what you were doing.
FAN. Well, I was at a poor business,
Balancing two peas within a pod.
PIO. Ah!
FAN. And I found them, just like two peas,
Too much alike.
PIO. Well, I must go.
FAN. Don't be in a hurry. What's the news?
PIO. Fanchon, there is only one bit of news for me to tell you, and—and—when I see you it all flies out o' doors and leaves me.
FAN. Ah! [Toys with her apron.
PIO. Fanchon!
FAN. What?
PIO. I—I—I have come to—to—ah—protect you.
FAN. You? to protect me? For heaven's sake, from what? You protect me? Then heaven help me! [Rises.
PIO. Stay, O Fanchon, stay. Oh, stay! Oh, do!
Oh stay forever!
FAN. Nay, 'twould be too tiring, but I will consider.
PIO. Dear girl!
FAN. But on one condition.
PIO. Any condition and all conditions, but name them.
FAN. 'Tis but one. [Toys with her apron.
PIO. Name it, angel, but only say you'll stay.
FAN. Don't angel me! Yes, I will stay, if you—if you—
PIO. Speak, Fanchon, speak!
FAN. Well, I will stay if you do—go away.
PIO. (rising) The devil! I am a poor fool [Page 150].
FAN. Yea, now you speak the truth.
(puts handkerchief to her face) Oh, my!
PIO. Fanchon, what aileth thee?
FAN. (trying not to laugh) I—I—I (mocking PIOTR) think I've got something in my eye.
PIO. What, what? not a cinder? (aside) I'm sure it's not a man.
FAN. Yea. (aside) And if you're a man you'll try to take it out. (moves over to his side; he edges from her) Don't move, sir. Now, take this, then. (twists handkerchief into a point) Do you see it?
[Placing her face near his.
PIO. Nay, I see it not.
FAN. (aside) Dolt! Idiot! (to PIOTR) Place your hand on my shoulder, thus. Come nearer and look again.
PIO. (uneasily) Nay, I am near; I tell thee,
Fanchon, thou art mistaken. There is nought.
FAN. I tell thee I am not mistaken. (aside) Idiot! Can he not see beyond his nose? (rising in anger) I must go in.
PIO. Yea, so must I. I will come again.
FAN. Nay, nay, never! Stay away, away,
I tell thee, thou lean—lean gawk!
PIO. Well, well, I have angered her! [Exit.
FAN. (stamping her foot) Fool! Idiot! Dolt! Not to see, not to see! Here comes the other; free enough, but not so welcome.
Enter PORNAC.
POR. Ha, ha, my Fanchon!
[Runs to kiss her; she eludes him. He chases her round the table; she stops.
FAN. Sir! [He turns to catch her; she slaps his face.
Take that—and that!
POR. Why, Fanchon, 'tis not your wont to greet me thus [Page 151]!
FAN. Well, it will be in future, thou bloated freedom!
Learn to keep thy place.
POR. When? Ha, ha! what's up? what's up? what's up? [Exit.
FAN. If this had but the other's person, the other this one's spirit, betwixt them they might be a fairsome man. If ever a girl were burdened it be me!
Enter HELÈNE, dressed in mourning garb; slowly seats herself at the table in an attitude of grief. FANCHON approaches her.
FAN. Mistress, it grieves me much to see you thus.
HEL. O Fanchon, Fanchon, I fear my heart is broken!
FAN. Nay, lady, speak not thus; temper your grief
To what is fitting. Nature never intended
That youth should spend itself in useless grieving.
Men cannot live forever; your poor uncle,
My honored master, had pa**ed the allotted age.
This is not natural.
HEL. You wrong me, Fanchon. Heaven knows my woe,
Though it be deep and natural, I feel
Hath cast its weight on Heaven for my uncle.
FAN. Then why this grief, these tears, this air of woe?
O my mistress, forgive your simple Fanchon,
If in her love she fear that you may weaken,
By too much grief and sad, uncertain vapors,
That dignity, that presence which is yours
As heiress, mistress of this high estate.
Madam, forgive these words, for Fanchon loves you.
HEL. O Fanchon, 'tis this very terrible wealth,
This heirship, that is now my present curse.
Oh, why did Heaven bring me on this earth
To stand betwixt a noble man and all
That should be his by birth and heritance.
FAN. Mistress, the Sieur Daulac, that is a man!
HEL. O Fanchon, I do fear 'twill break my heart [Page 152].
FAN. It was a wondrous madness in your uncle
To use him thus; it pa**es my poor reason,
Unless, perchance, it was—forgive me, madam!
HEL. Whom?
FAN. That notary.
HEL. What notary?
FAN. What but one who creeps into a room
With his two sinister eyes before he enters,
Whose hand is like a dead man's at the touch,
Whose glance a poison, whose whole attitude
A cringing arrogance. There is something, madam,
About that man that makes the spirit sick
To look upon him.
HEL. Who is this notary you rail against?
FAN. M. Desjardins.
HEL. Fanchon! How dare you? He, my uncle's friend,
So grave and wise and thoughtful for his years,
Whose slow precision and whose cynic smile
Are rooted deep in duty.
FAN. Forgive me, madam, if my woman's heart
In love for you outran the menial bounds;
But though you grieve you, I would warn you, madam,
Against that man.
HEL. Fanchon, another slander such as this,
And we are parted. Tongue shall never speak
Nor mind conceive, by any consent of mine,
That heart unloyal which my uncle trusted.
FAN. Forgive me, madam, punish your poor Fanchon,
Do anything but drive me from your presence.
For all her faults, her rude outspoken thought,
Your Fanchon loves you.
HEL. My almost sister, you are now forgiven.
If you've a heart, oh, pity your poor mistress
In her mad sorrow, you who know her secret.
And is it crime in me, a simple maid,
To open my heart to you, a sister woman,
And say to you and Heaven how I love him [Page 153]?
Nay, I were not woman, nature had made me
Distort, unnatural, did I not feel
A pride amid my blushes at his name.
And now, O life, O terrible, cruel fate,
Thou put'st a barrier 'twixt us, this dread hate
That he must hold for me who, like some thief,
Some bold brute robber, now hath come between
Him and his heritage. Yet, could he know,
I'd walk a beggar 'neath the stars this night,
Yea, live in rags and own a menial's fate,
To know him mine. O Daulac, Daulac!
(a sound without) Go, Fanchon, straight, and see if he doth come.
I'll cure this matter, this shall never stand!
O uncle, uncle, could you be so cruel?
They'll see that I've a mind, though but a woman.
A nunnery is my hope, mine only hope.
I'll die a maid that he may have this wealth.
[Looks toward the door.
He comes, he comes! How can I meet this man
Whom I have wronged, and yet do love so true?
Oh, he'll have justice, or I am no woman!
Enter DESJARDINS.
Welcome, sir, though you are over late.
(seeing DESJARDINS) Oh, 'tis you!
DES. Yea, mademoiselle, 'tis but the courier;
The king comes after.
HEL. The Sieur Daulac is slow in coming, sir.
DES. Yea, mademoiselle, we ever travel slow
To that we dread approaching.
HEL. You have informed him of his uncle's d**h?
DES. Yea, mademoiselle, and of his disinheritance.
HEL. (starts) And how took he it?
DES. Not well, my lady; who ever welcomed the sun
That ushered in the hangman?
HEL. Desjardins, as my uncle's trusted friend [Page 154],
As Daulac's friend, as mine, I bid you hearken:
I have a way to mend this cruel matter.
DES. (aside) As Daulac's friend; yea, as Daulac's friend,
She has a way. Confound these obstinate women,
She shall not find a way, I'll stop all roads
That lead to Daulac's fortune.
(to HELÈNE) A way, madam? So interest in our noble,
Impoverished friend has made of you a lawyer?
HEL. Yea, I renounce this fortune, all these lands;
They are not mine, but his by truest right.
DES. And you?
HEL. My heart leans toward a cloister; I a nun,
All this would pa** to Daulac.
DES. (aside) A pretty simpleton, a charming fool!
Well, by my soul, who can count on a woman
When sentiment enters with a handsome man?
She a nun? Not if I confess her.
(to HELÈNE) Mademoiselle, your feelings wrong the dead.
To him who fathered, loved you all these years,
Owe you no duty? That he is scarce cold,
The coffined clay scarce rounded on his grave,
Ere you would tumble his wisdom to the ground
And scatter his wishes to the winds of heaven.
And all for what?
HEL. For justice!
DES. Justice? (aside) If this same cousin were wry and shrunk of limb would he get justice? Heaven protect the ugly that goes as man when woman dons the ermine.
HEL. Monsieur Desjardins, you know I loved my uncle
And reverence his memory; but this will,
This monstrous will—I cannot yet believe
It was his love, his wisdom ordered it—
I will not take the cruel advantage it gives
And ravage Sieur Daulac of his rights;
And you—you think this cruel indenture just,
That cheats your friend?
DES. Lady, methinks your feelings wrong the dead [Page 155].
HEL. Nay, never reverence for the holiest dead
Dare bid me wrong the living.
DES. Mademoiselle,
I have not right of feeling in this matter,
I'm but in this the humble notary,
The slave that pens just what the hand hath willed,
But I would be full lacking in that sense
Of what I owe your uncle and mine honor
Did I refuse, because my feelings urged,
To do my duty in this present case.
Aspirations are for your soldiers, lady;
Not for the common, plodding, parchment drudge,
The notary. But, being the notary, I
Must point to you the duty which is yours.
This will is plain, no matter who has feelings;
You are besides, a ward and under age;
So did you folly wish to squander all,
You could not do it.
HEL. O Heaven!
DES. Yea. Further, as the humble notary,
I must speak plainly.
HEL. Speak! I bid you.
DES. You are my ward for one full year from this,
Under this will, and therefore 'tis my duty
To tender you advice: I long have known
The love you bear for Daulac.
HEL. Monsieur Desjardins, you presume!
DES. Lady, 'tis but the notary.
HEL. Go on, sir, but be careful.
DES. Well, this same love—forgive the notary, lady—
How know you 'tis returned?
HEL. Monsieur! this from you?
DES. 'Tis but the notary, lady. True, he hurts,
'Tis but the bungling surgeon at the best;
But let me warn you; young, impressionable,
Susceptible to all that charms in man,
What know you of men's ways, their arts to please [Page 156]
Where smiles are easy spent and broken hearts
Too quick forgotten? Now, if I know Daulac
As man knows man from boyhood up to youth,
His one true love, his mistress, is his sword.
HEL. Sir, this is cruel.
DES. Cruel, lady; so is the shining lance
That wounds to save the sufferer. If your love
Hath gone such lengths, you might even buy him,
I will not nay it; but you must acknowledge,
If love be like a magnet, we have seen
But little of this Daulac of late.
HEL. Enough, sir, notary or no,
You speak me not as father would dare speak.
DES. Forgive me, lady, I but do my duty.
HEL. Pardon me, sir, but methinks that in
The notary you outrage the man.
DES. The man, madam, the man is ever outraged
In this poor, shifty, cringing, scheming world,
Where none so free that he may love his neighbor.
Adieu, I hurt you, madam, I will withdraw;
You look for braver company.
(aside) The mine is lit, I've touched her woman's pride.
Ha! Daulac, Daulac, come and conquer now!
HEL. Nay, good Desjardins, stay and be my friend.
Fear not for Helène D'Arno, she will ne'er
Let foolish feeling wrong her sense of duty
To those she loves and her own womanhood.
DES. I will return with Daulac, madam, should you wish.
HEL. I do wish it, sir, if you will come.
[Exit DESJARDINS.
They think I have no pride! wait; they shall see,
Rather than buy a lover I will die
A single maid. Now to be ice and snow
And frigid, stately dignity to this lover
Who came so tardily that ruin and d**h [Page 157]
Showed him the roadway. He shall never know
The foolish thoughts that I have squandered on him.
Enter DAULAC and DESJARDINS.
O woman's pride, help me to be proud,
Imperious, cold and just; but melting never!
[DAULAC advances and kisses her hand.
DAUL. Helène!
HEL. Daulac, my cousin!
DAUL. (aside) Cousin?
HEL. I never thought I should have met you thus.
DAUL. Nor I, but all are mortal; my poor uncle,
God knows I hold nought towards his memory
Save truest sorrow. Heaven is my witness,
He might have taken all away from me,
Had he but left his pardon.
HEL. O God! O God! Cousin, my heart is broken.
I you have wronged, heaven knoweth, all unwittingly.
Had I the power to give you what is yours,
I'd rather die than leave things as they stand.
DAUL. Helène, my cousin, if poor words of mine
Can ease your sorrow, carry to your grave
That Daulac's thoughts of you were thoughts of blessing.
Adieu, Helène, the playmate of my youth,
When I am far perchance you will remember.
HEL. Wherefore away? Is this not yet your home?
DAUL. Sweet cousin, to-morrow I leave these shores forever.
HEL. (aside) Heaven help me, Heaven help me now!
(to DESJARDINS) Cruel sir, cruel sir, you had not told me this!
DES. Not even the notary, believe me, madam,
Were surgeon to such a wound.
DAUL. Sweet cousin, you who always bade me courage
When only in hope I waged me deeds of glory
Will you not bid me Godspeed even now [Page 158]?
HEL. Sir, I, a soldier's daughter, cannot say
To you, a soldier, any word but Godspeed.
But is there not a**istance I can give you?
Monies, credit, all are at your service.
DAUL. Helène, I am a soldier; my poor sword
And sense of honor are my sole fortune now.
If you would of the riches of your heart
But loan anon a single kindly thought,
A tear, perchance a prayer sent up to God,
For Daulac in his wanderings, he'd be your debtor
Deeper a thousand times than if you showered
The wealth of Ind upon him.
HEL. You have my prayers, my wishes. (aside) Oh, help me God!
DAUL. Farewell, Helène, God keep you. Fare you well.
[Kisses her hand.
DES. (aside) Why come they not? Why come they not?
Enter an Officer of the King and two attendants.
Officer. Mademoiselle, your pardon. (to DAULAC) I would speak
With the Sieur Daulac.
DAUL. Speak, I am he.
Officer. Pardon, lady, this most painful business,
But I do bear an order from the King,
Monsieur Daulac, asking for your sword.
DAUL. The King! My sword! My God! what new misfortune?
DES. (aside) Ha, ha, ha!
Officer. Here is the order, sir, commanding that you be cashiered and banished.
DAUL. Cashiered and banished?
Officer. Yea, to America.
DAUL. Banished, cashiered, ruined!
[Clutching at his heart. [Page 159]
What unseen hand hath done this? What malignant influence looms about me?
DES. (taking his hand) This land, at least, is yours until the end.
HEL. Daulac, Desjardins, what doth all this mean?
Disinherited, cashiered, banished! Farewell, hope!
Officer. Yea, further, sir, your sword. You are my prisoner while on these shores.
DAUL. Not that, not that disgrace!
Officer. Men, arrest your prisoner!
DAUL. Nay, I'm a noble. Whate'er his reason be,
The King can do no wrong. I go with you.
My gentle cousin, a long, a long farewell!
[Goes out with bowed head.
DES. And now 'tis time for the notary to go, too. [Exit.
HEL. Daulca, Daulac, I love you! O my God!
I might have saved him! What have I not lost?
And all for woman's pride [Page 160]!
CURTAIN.