Run home and dress yourself in the boy's clothes
Prepared for you.
Prepared for you.
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
Good-bye!
[_He falls down, and_ THE QUEEN _holds him up in her
arms. _
Fly! Fly!
No one will know. That door.
[_He tries to point to it, but sinks back in the agony
of death. _
THE QUEEN (_throwing herself on him_): Ruy Blas!
RUY BLAS (_reviving at the sound of his name_):
Thanks! Thanks! [_He dies. _
FOOTNOTES:
[K] In appearance, "Ruy Blas" is a pendant to "Hernani. "
In the earlier play, Victor Hugo gives a striking picture of the
Spanish nobility in the days of its power and splendour. In the
later drama, which he composed in 1838, he depicts in lurid light
the corruption into which that nobility afterwards fell. But, as a
matter of fact, "Ruy Blas" is a violent party pamphlet with a direct
bearing on the French politics of the thirties. It is the decadent
French nobility--vanquished in the revolution of 1830--that Hugo really
attacks; and Ruy Blas himself is a representative Frenchman of the era
of romanticism. Stendhal (Vol. VIII) was the first writer to study
this new type of character--the young man of the lower middle classes,
full of grandiose dreams and wild ambitions and strange weaknesses,
who thought to arrive by intrigue at the high position which the great
soldiers of the preceding generation had won on the battlefield. Balzac
(Vol. I) elaborated the character in his "Human Comedy"; and Hugo, by
ennobling and enlarging it, created the sombre, magnificent figure of
Ruy Blas.
The King Amuses Himself[L]
_Persons in the Drama_
FRANCOIS I. , _King of France_
TRIBOULET, _his jester_
BLANCHE, _Triboulet's daughter_
SALTABADIL, _an assassin_
MAGUELONNE, _his sister_
DAME BERARDE
_A woman; a man; a crowd of people_
ACT I
SCENE. --TRIBOULET, _the ugly little hunchback jester to_ KING FRANCOIS,
_has stolen from the Louvre to a secluded house in a remote
part of Paris. He takes out the key to open the door, then
stops and glances round uneasily. _
TRIBOULET: I thought I heard a footstep.
Blanche must go
Back to the country. In this wild, rough town
My little lonely girl may come to harm.
I was a fool to bring her here. A fool!
Ah, if she learns what a vile part I play
In this vile city--sees her father dressed
In patchwork, using his deformities
To make sport for a proud, vain, wicked king.
Oh, how I hate the man who laughs at me!
When I am sick and miserable, and creep
Into some corner to bewail my lot,
He kicks me out into the light, and cries,
"Amuse me, fool! " Some day I shall go mad,
And kill----
[SALTABADIL, _who has been following him, comes forward
and bows. _
SALTABADIL: Your servant, sir!
TRIBOULET (_startled_): What! Who are you?
SALTABADIL: Excuse me. I have watched you for a week
Come to this house at evening. Every time
You seem afraid some foe is following you.
TRIBOULET (_still more startled_): What do you want?
Who are you? Go away!
SALTABADIL: I want to help you. Do you need a sword?
I am an honest man, and at a price
I'll rid you of your enemy.
TRIBOULET (_relieved by the bravo's air_): What price?
SALTABADIL: According to the job. If he is armed
'Tis best to get my sister, Maguelonne,
To help me. She will lure him to our house--
TRIBOULET: I understand.
SALTABADIL (_confidentially_): No noise, you see; no risk.
Give me your custom, sir, and you will find
I do the work better than any man
In Paris.
TRIBOULET: But at present I've no need--
SALTABADIL: Well, think about it. I am Saltabadil.
I wait for clients every day at noon
By the Hotel du Maine.
TRIBOULET: Good-night to you.
SALTABADIL: Believe me, I am honest. Times are bad;
I have four children, and at least my trade
Is better than mere beggary.
TRIBOULET: Of course.
One must bring up one's children.
SALTABADIL: Thanks. Good-night.
[_He departs. _ TRIBOULET _then opens the door leading
into a courtyard, and knocks at an inner entrance.
This is opened by a charming young girl, who
throws herself into the jester's arms. _
TRIBOULET: My daughter! When I see your sweet, bright face
My grief and trouble vanish. Kiss me, Blanche;
I am in need of love. Have you been out?
BLANCHE: Only to church. It is so dull in town
That, were it not for you, dear, I should like
To go back to Chinon.
TRIBOULET: It would be best;
put now I could not live in solitude.
My darling, I have no one in the world
But you to love me!
[_Hiding his face in his hands, he weeps. _
BLANCHE: Father, trust in me.
Tell me your name and calling. Every night
You come by stealth to see me; every day
You disappear. Oh, how it troubles me
To see you weep!
TRIBOULET: You would be troubled more
If you could see me laugh! No, no, my child!
Know me but as your father; let me be
Something that you can venerate and love.
BLANCHE: My father!
TRIBOULET: But I cannot stay to-night;
I only came to see if you were safe.
Good-bye, my darling! Do not leave the house.
[_While he is speaking,_ KING FRANCOIS _glides into the
courtyard, and hides behind a tree there. He is
dressed like a student. _
BLANCHE: Good-bye, my father!
THE KING: Father! Triboulet
Her father! What a joke!
TRIBOULET: May God guard you!
[_He kisses her again and departs. _ BLANCHE _stands at
the door watching him, and_ DAME BERARDE, _her
housekeeper, joins her. _
BLANCHE: I have not told him.
DAME BERARDE: What?
BLANCHE: That a young man
Follows me when I come from church.
DAME BERARDE (_laughing_): You wish
To chase this handsome man away?
BLANCHE: Ah, no!
1 think he loves me. Oh, when Sunday comes
I shall be happy!
DAME BERARDE: I should think he was
Some noble lord.
BLANCHE: No! Lords, my father says,
Are men of little faith or honesty.
I hope he is a poor young scholar, filled
With noble thoughts rather than noble blood.
How long it is to Sunday! Would he were
Kneeling before me here. I then would say
Be happy, for I----
[_The_ KING _comes from behind the tree, and kneels
before her. _
THE KING: Love you! Say it sweet:
I love you!
BLANCHE: If my father comes! Ah, go!
THE KING: Go? When my life is bound to yours? Sweet Blanche,
There is one heavenly thing alone on earth,
And that is love. Glory and wealth and power
Are base and worthless when compared with it.
Blanche, it is happiness your lover brings,
Happiness, shyly waiting on your wish.
Life is a flower, and love the honey of life.
Come, let us taste it, mouth to mouth, my sweet.
[_Taking her in his arms, he kisses her. _
BLANCHE: I do not know your name. Are you a lord?
My father does not like them.
THE KING (_confused_): Yes. . . . My name--
Gaucher Mahiet, a poor young scholar.
DAME BERARDE: Look!
Someone is coming.
[_It is_ TRIBOULET. _Seeing his daughter in the arms of
a man, he rushes forward with a terrible cry. _ KING
FRANCOIS _leaves_ BLANCHE, _and, brushing past the
jester, who staggers as he catches a glimpse of his
face, hastens away. _
TRIBOULET: The King! Oh, God, the King!
[_Then, in a sort of madness, he mutters to himself. _
That man that spoke to me . . . Hotel du Maine;
At noon . . . yes; in his house . . . no noise, no risk . . .
Oh, King Francois, the grave is dug for you!
ACT II
SCENE. --_A tumble-down inn on the outskirts of Paris by the edge of
the Seine. The scene is represented on the stage in a sort of
section, so that the spectator sees everything that goes on in
the interior of the inn, as well as on the road outside.
Besides this, the building is so cracked and ruined that any
passer-by can see into the room through the holes in the wall.
It is night. _ TRIBOULET _and his daughter appear in the road. _
SALTABADIL _is sitting in the inn. _
TRIBOULET: I will avenge you, Blanche.
BLANCHE: He cannot be
False and untrue.
TRIBOULET (_whispering, as he leads her to a hole in the wall_):
Come. See with your own eyes,
What kind of man our great King Francois is.
BLANCHE (_whispering, as she sees only_ SALTABADIL):
I only see a stranger.
TRIBOULET: Wait awhile.
[_As he whispers,_ KING FRANCOIS _enters the room by a
little door leading from an inner chamber. _
BLANCHE: Father!
[_She trembles, and follows with angry eyes the movements
of_ THE KING.
TRIBOULET: This is the man you wish to save.
THE KING (_slapping_ SALTABADIL _on the back_):
Tell Maguelonne to bring me in some wine.
TRIBOULET: King by the grace of God he is, with all
The wealth and splendour of the land of France
At his command; but to amuse himself
He drinks himself asleep in thieves' kitchens.
THE KING (_singing while_ TRIBOULET _talks outside_):
Oh, woman is fickle, and man is a fool
To trust in her word!
She changes without any reason or rule,
As her fancies are stirred.
A weather-cock veering to every wind
Is constant and true when compared to her mind.
[_While he sings_ MAGUELONNE _enters with a skin of
wine. _ SALTABADIL _goes out, and seeing_ TRIBOULET,
_approaches him with an air of mystery. _ BLANCHE
_continues to watch_ THE KING.
SALTABADIL: We've caught our man! And now it rests with you
To let him live or die.
TRIBOULET (_looking at_ BLANCHE): Wait for a while.
THE KING (_to_ MAGUELONNE): Life is a flower and love the honey
of life;
Come, let us taste it, mouth to mouth, my sweet.
[_He tries to kiss her, but she escapes. _
MAGUELONNE: You got that from a book.
THE KING: Your dark, sweet eyes
Inspired me! It was only yesterday
We met at the Hotel du Maine, and yet
I love you with as passionate a love
As if we had been sweethearts all our lives.
Come, let me kiss you!
MAGUELONNE (_sitting herself gaily on the table where
he is drinking_): When you have drunk your wine.
[THE KING _empties the flagon of drugged liquor, and
with a mocking laugh the girl jumps down and sits
on his knee. _
THE KING: Oh, you delicious, fascinating thing.
What a wild dance you've led me! Feel my heart
Seating with love for you!
MAGUELONNE: And for a score
Of other women!
THE KING: No, for you alone!
[BLANCHE _cannot bear to look at them any longer. Pale
and trembling, she turns away, and falls into her
father's arms. _
BLANCHE: Oh, God, how he deceived me! My heart breaks.
All that he said to me he now repeats
To this low, shameless slut. He is a man
Without a soul.
TRIBOULET (_in a whisper_): Hush, hush! or he will hear!
You leave him in my hands then?
BLANCHE: What is it
You mean to do?
TRIBOULET: Avenge you and myself!
Run home and dress yourself in the boy's clothes
Prepared for you. Take all the gold you find,
And ride to Evreux, and there wait for me.
BLANCHE (_entreatingly_): Come with me, father!
TRIBOULET (_sternly_): I have work to do,
Terrible work! Do not return for me,
But ride your horse as fast as it will go.
BLANCHE: I am afraid.
TRIBOULET:: Obey me, Blanche! Good-bye!
[_He kisses her, and she staggers away. _ TRIBOULET _then
signs to_ SALTABADIL, _who comes running up, and
gives him ten crowns in gold. _
TRIBOULET: Here is half of the sum. I'll bring the rest
When you hand me the body in a sack.
SALTABADIL: It shall be done to-night.
TRIBOULET: At midnight, then.
[_He goes in. During this scene outside, the drowsy_
KING _has been flirting with_ MAGUELONNE. _She
jumps off his knee as_ SALTABADIL _enters. _ TRIBOULET
_departs. _
SALTABADIL: What a wild night! The rain is pouring down
In torrents.
THE KING (_sleepily_): You must find me a bed.
MAGUELONNE (_in a fierce whisper_): Go! Go!
THE KING: What? And be drowned? You are unkind, my sweet.
SALTABADIL (_Whispering to his sister_):
Keep him here. We have twenty golden crowns
To earn to-night. (_To_ KING FRANCOIS) Sir, you can have my room.
THE KING: Ah, you are kinder than your sister is!
Show me the bed.
[SALTABADIL _takes the lamp and leads him upstairs. _
SALTABADIL: This way.
MAGUELONNE (_in the darkness_): Poor, poor young man!
[SALTABADIL _returns with the lamp. He sits at the table
in silence; his sister watches him. _
MAGUELONNE (_fiercely_): You must not kill him!
SALTABADIL: Twenty golden crowns!
Look, here are ten of them! The rest I get
At midnight. Pest! There is no time to lose.
Quick, sew this sack! My client will return
In a few minutes.
[_Terrified by his look, she takes up the sack and begins
to mend it. There is again a silence, and in the
sinister and momentary radiance of the lightning
the figure of_ BLANCHE _is seen approaching the inn.
She is dressed in a man's clothes, and booted and
spurred. _
BLANCHE: Terrible work to do! I cannot go.
Father, I cannot! Oh, this horrible dream!
Let me awake from it ere I go mad.
This dream, this horrible dream!
[_Seeing the light from the window, she totters up to the
hole in the wall and looks in again. _
God! it is true!
There they are! There! --the man with murderous looks,
The girl with shameless eyes! Where is the king?
[_Her cries are drowned in the thunder. _
MAGUELONNE: Brother!
SALTABADIL: Yes.
MAGUELONNE: Do not kill him.
SALTABADIL: Ten more crowns!
MAGUELONNE: He is worth more than that. Handsome and young,
And noble too, I'll take my oath on it.
Besides, he loves me.
SALTABADIL: Get on with the sack.
MAGUELONNE: You only want the money. Take and kill
The little hunchback when he comes with it.
BLANCHE: My father!
SALTABADIL (_angrily_): What! Am I a common thief?
Kill my own client? I will have you know,
My sister, that I am an honest man.
I do the work I'm paid for.
[_Drawing his dagger, he goes towards the stairs. _
MAGUELONNE (_barring the way_): Stop, I say!
Or I will go and rouse him.
BLANCHE: Good, brave girl!
SALTABADIL: Well, let us make a bargain, Maguelonne.
If anyone comes knocking at our inn
By midnight, he shall go into the sack.
My client only wants to fling some corpse
Into the river, and on this wild night
He will not see what he is throwing in.
MAGUELONNE: It is just on the hour. No one will come.
Cannot you ram this faggot in the sack?
SALTABADIL: Who would take that for a limp body? No!
Either a traveller or the man upstairs.
That is all! Will you take the chance?
MAGUELONNE (_weeping_): I must.
BLANCHE: Oh, God, I cannot! No! I am too young.
He does not love me.
[_A church-bell begins to chime the hour. _
SALTABADIL: Midnight!
MAGUELONNE: Hark, a knock!
BLANCHE (_stumbling to the door_):
My father hates him. . . . Perhaps it will not hurt,
If they strike hard and kill me at a blow.
Oh, if he only loved me!
MAGUELONNE (_opening the door_): Who is there?
BLANCHE: Give me a shelter for the night.
MAGUELONNE: Come in.
[_She enters. As she crosses the threshold_, SALTABADIL
_raises his dagger, and the curtain falls. _
ACT III
SCENE. --_The same; but when the curtain rises, only the outside of the
inn is now seen. It is unlighted; everything is in darkness. _
TRIBOULET (_knocking at the door_): Make haste!
SALTABADIL (_bringing out a sack_): Here is your man.
TRIBOULET (_helping him carry it_): Give me a light.
I want to see him--is he really dead?
SALTABADIL: We must not use a light. We might be seen.
Where is the money?
TRIBOULET (_giving him a bag_): Here. (_Looking at
the sack_) I have you at last!
Long have I waited for this happy hour!
SALTABADIL: Come, throw it in the Seine!
TRIBOULET: I want no help.
Your part is done. Leave me alone.
SALTABADIL: Quick, then!
Somebody may come by. Is the man mad?
[TRIBOULET _has knelt down in the mud by the sack.
The rain streams on him, and his face, convulsed
with hideous joy, is illumined by the lightning. _
SALTABADIL _enters the inn and shuts the door. _
TRIBOULET (_feeling the sack_): Yes! I can feel his
spurs. It is the King!
Now let the heavens break above my head,
And the earth rock and open at my feet!
The vengeance of a clown shakes the whole world!
Francois, the pivot on which Europe turns,
Is broken. German, Spaniard, and Turk
Can make a slaughterhouse of Christendom.
The King of France is dead!
[_Leaping up in a fury, he kicks the sack. _
Francois the First,
Do you remember how you treated me?
Who is the dog now, eh? --the dog to kick
And tumble about to make the courtiers laugh?
You liked my daughter, did you? A clown's brat
Found favour with a king! You stooped too low.
This is the road that you must take.
[_He drags the sack to the parapet. While he is doing
so,_ MAGUELONNE _opens the door of the inn and lets
out_ THE KING, _who goes off singing gaily in the
opposite direction. _
TRIBOULET (_lifting the sack on the parapet, to push
it over_): Go down!
THE KING:
Oh, woman is fickle, and man is a fool
To trust in her word!
TRIBOULET: Oh, God! Whose voice is that?
[_He pulls back the sack. _
THE KING (_now unseen in the darkness_):
She changes without any reason or rule,
As her fancies are stirred.
TRIBOULET: He has escaped! (_Running up to the
inn_) Accursed villains, you have cheated me! (_He
pulls at the door, but it will not open_. )
Who have they put in the sack?
[_He returns to it. _
Some innocent wayfarer? I must see.
[_He tears open the sack, and peers into it. _
It is too dark (_wildly_). Has no one got a light?
[_As he is dragging the body out of the sack the lightning
irradiates it. _
My daughter! God! My daughter! No, Blanche, no!
I sent you to Evreux. It is not her.
[_The lightning again flashes out, and clearly shows the
pale face and closed eyes of the girl. _
Speak, for the love of God! Speak! Oh, the blood!
Blanche, are you hurt? Speak to me! Blanche!
BLANCHE (_opening her eyes_): Where am I? Father!
[_She tries to rise, but falls back groaning. _ TRIBOULET
_takes her in his arms. _
TRIBOULET: Blanche, have they struck you?
It is too dark to see.
BLANCHE (_in a broken, gasping voice_):
The dagger struck me . . . but I . . .
Saved the king . . .
I love him. Father . . .
[_He falls down, and_ THE QUEEN _holds him up in her
arms. _
Fly! Fly!
No one will know. That door.
[_He tries to point to it, but sinks back in the agony
of death. _
THE QUEEN (_throwing herself on him_): Ruy Blas!
RUY BLAS (_reviving at the sound of his name_):
Thanks! Thanks! [_He dies. _
FOOTNOTES:
[K] In appearance, "Ruy Blas" is a pendant to "Hernani. "
In the earlier play, Victor Hugo gives a striking picture of the
Spanish nobility in the days of its power and splendour. In the
later drama, which he composed in 1838, he depicts in lurid light
the corruption into which that nobility afterwards fell. But, as a
matter of fact, "Ruy Blas" is a violent party pamphlet with a direct
bearing on the French politics of the thirties. It is the decadent
French nobility--vanquished in the revolution of 1830--that Hugo really
attacks; and Ruy Blas himself is a representative Frenchman of the era
of romanticism. Stendhal (Vol. VIII) was the first writer to study
this new type of character--the young man of the lower middle classes,
full of grandiose dreams and wild ambitions and strange weaknesses,
who thought to arrive by intrigue at the high position which the great
soldiers of the preceding generation had won on the battlefield. Balzac
(Vol. I) elaborated the character in his "Human Comedy"; and Hugo, by
ennobling and enlarging it, created the sombre, magnificent figure of
Ruy Blas.
The King Amuses Himself[L]
_Persons in the Drama_
FRANCOIS I. , _King of France_
TRIBOULET, _his jester_
BLANCHE, _Triboulet's daughter_
SALTABADIL, _an assassin_
MAGUELONNE, _his sister_
DAME BERARDE
_A woman; a man; a crowd of people_
ACT I
SCENE. --TRIBOULET, _the ugly little hunchback jester to_ KING FRANCOIS,
_has stolen from the Louvre to a secluded house in a remote
part of Paris. He takes out the key to open the door, then
stops and glances round uneasily. _
TRIBOULET: I thought I heard a footstep.
Blanche must go
Back to the country. In this wild, rough town
My little lonely girl may come to harm.
I was a fool to bring her here. A fool!
Ah, if she learns what a vile part I play
In this vile city--sees her father dressed
In patchwork, using his deformities
To make sport for a proud, vain, wicked king.
Oh, how I hate the man who laughs at me!
When I am sick and miserable, and creep
Into some corner to bewail my lot,
He kicks me out into the light, and cries,
"Amuse me, fool! " Some day I shall go mad,
And kill----
[SALTABADIL, _who has been following him, comes forward
and bows. _
SALTABADIL: Your servant, sir!
TRIBOULET (_startled_): What! Who are you?
SALTABADIL: Excuse me. I have watched you for a week
Come to this house at evening. Every time
You seem afraid some foe is following you.
TRIBOULET (_still more startled_): What do you want?
Who are you? Go away!
SALTABADIL: I want to help you. Do you need a sword?
I am an honest man, and at a price
I'll rid you of your enemy.
TRIBOULET (_relieved by the bravo's air_): What price?
SALTABADIL: According to the job. If he is armed
'Tis best to get my sister, Maguelonne,
To help me. She will lure him to our house--
TRIBOULET: I understand.
SALTABADIL (_confidentially_): No noise, you see; no risk.
Give me your custom, sir, and you will find
I do the work better than any man
In Paris.
TRIBOULET: But at present I've no need--
SALTABADIL: Well, think about it. I am Saltabadil.
I wait for clients every day at noon
By the Hotel du Maine.
TRIBOULET: Good-night to you.
SALTABADIL: Believe me, I am honest. Times are bad;
I have four children, and at least my trade
Is better than mere beggary.
TRIBOULET: Of course.
One must bring up one's children.
SALTABADIL: Thanks. Good-night.
[_He departs. _ TRIBOULET _then opens the door leading
into a courtyard, and knocks at an inner entrance.
This is opened by a charming young girl, who
throws herself into the jester's arms. _
TRIBOULET: My daughter! When I see your sweet, bright face
My grief and trouble vanish. Kiss me, Blanche;
I am in need of love. Have you been out?
BLANCHE: Only to church. It is so dull in town
That, were it not for you, dear, I should like
To go back to Chinon.
TRIBOULET: It would be best;
put now I could not live in solitude.
My darling, I have no one in the world
But you to love me!
[_Hiding his face in his hands, he weeps. _
BLANCHE: Father, trust in me.
Tell me your name and calling. Every night
You come by stealth to see me; every day
You disappear. Oh, how it troubles me
To see you weep!
TRIBOULET: You would be troubled more
If you could see me laugh! No, no, my child!
Know me but as your father; let me be
Something that you can venerate and love.
BLANCHE: My father!
TRIBOULET: But I cannot stay to-night;
I only came to see if you were safe.
Good-bye, my darling! Do not leave the house.
[_While he is speaking,_ KING FRANCOIS _glides into the
courtyard, and hides behind a tree there. He is
dressed like a student. _
BLANCHE: Good-bye, my father!
THE KING: Father! Triboulet
Her father! What a joke!
TRIBOULET: May God guard you!
[_He kisses her again and departs. _ BLANCHE _stands at
the door watching him, and_ DAME BERARDE, _her
housekeeper, joins her. _
BLANCHE: I have not told him.
DAME BERARDE: What?
BLANCHE: That a young man
Follows me when I come from church.
DAME BERARDE (_laughing_): You wish
To chase this handsome man away?
BLANCHE: Ah, no!
1 think he loves me. Oh, when Sunday comes
I shall be happy!
DAME BERARDE: I should think he was
Some noble lord.
BLANCHE: No! Lords, my father says,
Are men of little faith or honesty.
I hope he is a poor young scholar, filled
With noble thoughts rather than noble blood.
How long it is to Sunday! Would he were
Kneeling before me here. I then would say
Be happy, for I----
[_The_ KING _comes from behind the tree, and kneels
before her. _
THE KING: Love you! Say it sweet:
I love you!
BLANCHE: If my father comes! Ah, go!
THE KING: Go? When my life is bound to yours? Sweet Blanche,
There is one heavenly thing alone on earth,
And that is love. Glory and wealth and power
Are base and worthless when compared with it.
Blanche, it is happiness your lover brings,
Happiness, shyly waiting on your wish.
Life is a flower, and love the honey of life.
Come, let us taste it, mouth to mouth, my sweet.
[_Taking her in his arms, he kisses her. _
BLANCHE: I do not know your name. Are you a lord?
My father does not like them.
THE KING (_confused_): Yes. . . . My name--
Gaucher Mahiet, a poor young scholar.
DAME BERARDE: Look!
Someone is coming.
[_It is_ TRIBOULET. _Seeing his daughter in the arms of
a man, he rushes forward with a terrible cry. _ KING
FRANCOIS _leaves_ BLANCHE, _and, brushing past the
jester, who staggers as he catches a glimpse of his
face, hastens away. _
TRIBOULET: The King! Oh, God, the King!
[_Then, in a sort of madness, he mutters to himself. _
That man that spoke to me . . . Hotel du Maine;
At noon . . . yes; in his house . . . no noise, no risk . . .
Oh, King Francois, the grave is dug for you!
ACT II
SCENE. --_A tumble-down inn on the outskirts of Paris by the edge of
the Seine. The scene is represented on the stage in a sort of
section, so that the spectator sees everything that goes on in
the interior of the inn, as well as on the road outside.
Besides this, the building is so cracked and ruined that any
passer-by can see into the room through the holes in the wall.
It is night. _ TRIBOULET _and his daughter appear in the road. _
SALTABADIL _is sitting in the inn. _
TRIBOULET: I will avenge you, Blanche.
BLANCHE: He cannot be
False and untrue.
TRIBOULET (_whispering, as he leads her to a hole in the wall_):
Come. See with your own eyes,
What kind of man our great King Francois is.
BLANCHE (_whispering, as she sees only_ SALTABADIL):
I only see a stranger.
TRIBOULET: Wait awhile.
[_As he whispers,_ KING FRANCOIS _enters the room by a
little door leading from an inner chamber. _
BLANCHE: Father!
[_She trembles, and follows with angry eyes the movements
of_ THE KING.
TRIBOULET: This is the man you wish to save.
THE KING (_slapping_ SALTABADIL _on the back_):
Tell Maguelonne to bring me in some wine.
TRIBOULET: King by the grace of God he is, with all
The wealth and splendour of the land of France
At his command; but to amuse himself
He drinks himself asleep in thieves' kitchens.
THE KING (_singing while_ TRIBOULET _talks outside_):
Oh, woman is fickle, and man is a fool
To trust in her word!
She changes without any reason or rule,
As her fancies are stirred.
A weather-cock veering to every wind
Is constant and true when compared to her mind.
[_While he sings_ MAGUELONNE _enters with a skin of
wine. _ SALTABADIL _goes out, and seeing_ TRIBOULET,
_approaches him with an air of mystery. _ BLANCHE
_continues to watch_ THE KING.
SALTABADIL: We've caught our man! And now it rests with you
To let him live or die.
TRIBOULET (_looking at_ BLANCHE): Wait for a while.
THE KING (_to_ MAGUELONNE): Life is a flower and love the honey
of life;
Come, let us taste it, mouth to mouth, my sweet.
[_He tries to kiss her, but she escapes. _
MAGUELONNE: You got that from a book.
THE KING: Your dark, sweet eyes
Inspired me! It was only yesterday
We met at the Hotel du Maine, and yet
I love you with as passionate a love
As if we had been sweethearts all our lives.
Come, let me kiss you!
MAGUELONNE (_sitting herself gaily on the table where
he is drinking_): When you have drunk your wine.
[THE KING _empties the flagon of drugged liquor, and
with a mocking laugh the girl jumps down and sits
on his knee. _
THE KING: Oh, you delicious, fascinating thing.
What a wild dance you've led me! Feel my heart
Seating with love for you!
MAGUELONNE: And for a score
Of other women!
THE KING: No, for you alone!
[BLANCHE _cannot bear to look at them any longer. Pale
and trembling, she turns away, and falls into her
father's arms. _
BLANCHE: Oh, God, how he deceived me! My heart breaks.
All that he said to me he now repeats
To this low, shameless slut. He is a man
Without a soul.
TRIBOULET (_in a whisper_): Hush, hush! or he will hear!
You leave him in my hands then?
BLANCHE: What is it
You mean to do?
TRIBOULET: Avenge you and myself!
Run home and dress yourself in the boy's clothes
Prepared for you. Take all the gold you find,
And ride to Evreux, and there wait for me.
BLANCHE (_entreatingly_): Come with me, father!
TRIBOULET (_sternly_): I have work to do,
Terrible work! Do not return for me,
But ride your horse as fast as it will go.
BLANCHE: I am afraid.
TRIBOULET:: Obey me, Blanche! Good-bye!
[_He kisses her, and she staggers away. _ TRIBOULET _then
signs to_ SALTABADIL, _who comes running up, and
gives him ten crowns in gold. _
TRIBOULET: Here is half of the sum. I'll bring the rest
When you hand me the body in a sack.
SALTABADIL: It shall be done to-night.
TRIBOULET: At midnight, then.
[_He goes in. During this scene outside, the drowsy_
KING _has been flirting with_ MAGUELONNE. _She
jumps off his knee as_ SALTABADIL _enters. _ TRIBOULET
_departs. _
SALTABADIL: What a wild night! The rain is pouring down
In torrents.
THE KING (_sleepily_): You must find me a bed.
MAGUELONNE (_in a fierce whisper_): Go! Go!
THE KING: What? And be drowned? You are unkind, my sweet.
SALTABADIL (_Whispering to his sister_):
Keep him here. We have twenty golden crowns
To earn to-night. (_To_ KING FRANCOIS) Sir, you can have my room.
THE KING: Ah, you are kinder than your sister is!
Show me the bed.
[SALTABADIL _takes the lamp and leads him upstairs. _
SALTABADIL: This way.
MAGUELONNE (_in the darkness_): Poor, poor young man!
[SALTABADIL _returns with the lamp. He sits at the table
in silence; his sister watches him. _
MAGUELONNE (_fiercely_): You must not kill him!
SALTABADIL: Twenty golden crowns!
Look, here are ten of them! The rest I get
At midnight. Pest! There is no time to lose.
Quick, sew this sack! My client will return
In a few minutes.
[_Terrified by his look, she takes up the sack and begins
to mend it. There is again a silence, and in the
sinister and momentary radiance of the lightning
the figure of_ BLANCHE _is seen approaching the inn.
She is dressed in a man's clothes, and booted and
spurred. _
BLANCHE: Terrible work to do! I cannot go.
Father, I cannot! Oh, this horrible dream!
Let me awake from it ere I go mad.
This dream, this horrible dream!
[_Seeing the light from the window, she totters up to the
hole in the wall and looks in again. _
God! it is true!
There they are! There! --the man with murderous looks,
The girl with shameless eyes! Where is the king?
[_Her cries are drowned in the thunder. _
MAGUELONNE: Brother!
SALTABADIL: Yes.
MAGUELONNE: Do not kill him.
SALTABADIL: Ten more crowns!
MAGUELONNE: He is worth more than that. Handsome and young,
And noble too, I'll take my oath on it.
Besides, he loves me.
SALTABADIL: Get on with the sack.
MAGUELONNE: You only want the money. Take and kill
The little hunchback when he comes with it.
BLANCHE: My father!
SALTABADIL (_angrily_): What! Am I a common thief?
Kill my own client? I will have you know,
My sister, that I am an honest man.
I do the work I'm paid for.
[_Drawing his dagger, he goes towards the stairs. _
MAGUELONNE (_barring the way_): Stop, I say!
Or I will go and rouse him.
BLANCHE: Good, brave girl!
SALTABADIL: Well, let us make a bargain, Maguelonne.
If anyone comes knocking at our inn
By midnight, he shall go into the sack.
My client only wants to fling some corpse
Into the river, and on this wild night
He will not see what he is throwing in.
MAGUELONNE: It is just on the hour. No one will come.
Cannot you ram this faggot in the sack?
SALTABADIL: Who would take that for a limp body? No!
Either a traveller or the man upstairs.
That is all! Will you take the chance?
MAGUELONNE (_weeping_): I must.
BLANCHE: Oh, God, I cannot! No! I am too young.
He does not love me.
[_A church-bell begins to chime the hour. _
SALTABADIL: Midnight!
MAGUELONNE: Hark, a knock!
BLANCHE (_stumbling to the door_):
My father hates him. . . . Perhaps it will not hurt,
If they strike hard and kill me at a blow.
Oh, if he only loved me!
MAGUELONNE (_opening the door_): Who is there?
BLANCHE: Give me a shelter for the night.
MAGUELONNE: Come in.
[_She enters. As she crosses the threshold_, SALTABADIL
_raises his dagger, and the curtain falls. _
ACT III
SCENE. --_The same; but when the curtain rises, only the outside of the
inn is now seen. It is unlighted; everything is in darkness. _
TRIBOULET (_knocking at the door_): Make haste!
SALTABADIL (_bringing out a sack_): Here is your man.
TRIBOULET (_helping him carry it_): Give me a light.
I want to see him--is he really dead?
SALTABADIL: We must not use a light. We might be seen.
Where is the money?
TRIBOULET (_giving him a bag_): Here. (_Looking at
the sack_) I have you at last!
Long have I waited for this happy hour!
SALTABADIL: Come, throw it in the Seine!
TRIBOULET: I want no help.
Your part is done. Leave me alone.
SALTABADIL: Quick, then!
Somebody may come by. Is the man mad?
[TRIBOULET _has knelt down in the mud by the sack.
The rain streams on him, and his face, convulsed
with hideous joy, is illumined by the lightning. _
SALTABADIL _enters the inn and shuts the door. _
TRIBOULET (_feeling the sack_): Yes! I can feel his
spurs. It is the King!
Now let the heavens break above my head,
And the earth rock and open at my feet!
The vengeance of a clown shakes the whole world!
Francois, the pivot on which Europe turns,
Is broken. German, Spaniard, and Turk
Can make a slaughterhouse of Christendom.
The King of France is dead!
[_Leaping up in a fury, he kicks the sack. _
Francois the First,
Do you remember how you treated me?
Who is the dog now, eh? --the dog to kick
And tumble about to make the courtiers laugh?
You liked my daughter, did you? A clown's brat
Found favour with a king! You stooped too low.
This is the road that you must take.
[_He drags the sack to the parapet. While he is doing
so,_ MAGUELONNE _opens the door of the inn and lets
out_ THE KING, _who goes off singing gaily in the
opposite direction. _
TRIBOULET (_lifting the sack on the parapet, to push
it over_): Go down!
THE KING:
Oh, woman is fickle, and man is a fool
To trust in her word!
TRIBOULET: Oh, God! Whose voice is that?
[_He pulls back the sack. _
THE KING (_now unseen in the darkness_):
She changes without any reason or rule,
As her fancies are stirred.
TRIBOULET: He has escaped! (_Running up to the
inn_) Accursed villains, you have cheated me! (_He
pulls at the door, but it will not open_. )
Who have they put in the sack?
[_He returns to it. _
Some innocent wayfarer? I must see.
[_He tears open the sack, and peers into it. _
It is too dark (_wildly_). Has no one got a light?
[_As he is dragging the body out of the sack the lightning
irradiates it. _
My daughter! God! My daughter! No, Blanche, no!
I sent you to Evreux. It is not her.
[_The lightning again flashes out, and clearly shows the
pale face and closed eyes of the girl. _
Speak, for the love of God! Speak! Oh, the blood!
Blanche, are you hurt? Speak to me! Blanche!
BLANCHE (_opening her eyes_): Where am I? Father!
[_She tries to rise, but falls back groaning. _ TRIBOULET
_takes her in his arms. _
TRIBOULET: Blanche, have they struck you?
It is too dark to see.
BLANCHE (_in a broken, gasping voice_):
The dagger struck me . . . but I . . .
Saved the king . . .
I love him. Father . . .
