Every time
You seem afraid some foe is following you.
You seem afraid some foe is following you.
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
THE QUEEN (_showing a secret door_): In this place
That Philip made to watch his counsellors.
How often have I seen poor Carlos here,
Listening to the villains robbing him,
And ruining the state!
RUY BLAS: What did he say?
THE QUEEN: Nothing, but it drove him mad at last.
But you! How masterful you were! The voice
With which you thundered still rings in my ears.
I raised the tapestry to look at you.
You towered above them terrible and great,
A king of men! What was it that inspired
Such fury in you?
RUY BLAS: Love for you, my queen!
If Spain falls, you will fall with it. But I
Will save it for your sake. Oh, I am mad!
I love you! Love you with a love that eats
The life out of me! God! What shall I do?
Die? Shall I die? Pardon me! Pardon me!
THE QUEEN: No, live! Live for your country, and your queen!
Both of us need you. For the last six months
I have been watching from my hiding-place
Your struggle with my treacherous counsellors,
And seeing in you the master-mind of Spain, have, without
consulting you, advanced
Your interests. And now your strong, pure hands
Grasp all the reins of government and power,
Perform the work entrusted unto you!
Rescue our people from their misery.
Raise Spain up from her grave; restore to her
The strength that made her empress of the world;
And love me as I love you--
RUY BLAS: Oh, my queen!
THE QUEEN: With a pure, steady, honourable love,
Working and waiting with a patient heart
Till I am free to marry you. Farewell!
[_She kisses him on the brow, and departs by the secret
door. _
ACT III
SCENE. --_A small, dark room in the house lent by_ DON SALLUST _to_ RUY
BLAS. _It is late at night, and_ RUY BLAS _is pacing up and
down in a state of wild agitation. _
RUY BLAS: I only am a pawn with which he plays
Against the queen. He seeks to ruin her
By means of me. No! I will save her yet.
Save her and lose her! Cunning though you are,
Don Sallust, you have overlooked one thing;
Even a lackey will lay down his life
To save a noble woman whom he loves
From ruin and dishonour.
[_Going to the table, he pours something into glass. _
Oh, my queen!
Never more shall we meet upon this earth.
[_As he raises the glass to his lips,_ THE QUEEN _enters. _
THE QUEEN: Don Cesar!
RUY BLAS: Oh, my God, my God!
THE QUEEN: Fear not.
I shall protect you.
RUY BLAS: What has brought you here?
THE QUEEN: Your letter, Cesar.
RUY BLAS: Letter? I have sent
No letter.
THE QUEEN: What is this, then? Look and read.
[_She gives him the note he wrote for_ DON SALLUST _as
his lackey. _
RUY BLAS (_reading it_): "My life is in great danger.
You alone can save me. "
THE QUEEN (_continuing_): "Come this evening to my house.
No one will recognise you if you use
The side door by the corner. " Here's your name, "Cesar. "
RUY BLAS: Go! Go! It is a plot against you.
I cannot now explain. Fly for your life!
THE QUEEN: But you are in great danger. No! I'll stay,
And help you, Cesar.
RUY BLAS: Go, I tell you! Go!
The letter is not mine. Who let you in?
DON SALLUST (_striding into the room_): I did.
RUY BLAS: Go, madam, while the way is clear.
DON SALLUST: It is too late. Dona Maria is
No longer Queen of Spain.
THE QUEEN (_in terror_): What, then, am I?
DON SALLUST: A lady who has sold her throne for love.
RUY BLAS: No!
DON SALLUST (_whispering to_ RUY BLAS): I am working in your
interests.
(_Aloud to_ THE QUEEN) Now listen, madam. I have found you here,
Alone with Cesar, in his room, at night.
This conduct--in a queen--would lead the Pope--
Were the fact published--to annul your marriage.
Why not avoid the scandal?
[_Taking a parchment from his pocket, he presents it to_
THE QUEEN.
Sign this deed
Admitting everything, and we can keep
All the proceedings secret. I have put
Plenty of money in the coach that waits
Outside the door. Ride off in it and take
Cesar with you, to France or Portugal.
No one will stop you. But if you refuse
Everything shall be published. Here's a pen.
[_He leads the terrified_ QUEEN _to a writing-table, and
puts a pen in her hand. _ RUY BLAS _stands in a corner,
motionless and bewildered. _
THE QUEEN: Oh, I am lost! Lost, and yet innocent!
DON SALLUST: You lose a crown; but think of what you gain--
A life of love and peace and happiness.
Don Cesar loves you, and is worthy of you.
A man of noble race; almost a prince.
[THE QUEEN _is about to sign, but_ RUY BLAS _snatches
the pen from her hand, and tears up the parchment. _
RUY BLAS: You must not sign it! This man lies to you.
I am Ruy Blas, a common serving-man.
[_Turning fiercely on_ DON SALLUST.
No more of it, I say! I'll have no more!
You mean, contemptible scoundrel! Tell the truth!
DON SALLUST: This creature is, in fact, my serving-man,
Only he has blabbed too soon.
THE QUEEN: Great Heavens!
DON SALLUST: No matter. My revenge is good enough.
What do you think of it? Madrid will laugh!
You exiled me, my lady; brought me down
Into the dust. I'll drag you from the throne
And hold you up--the laughing-stock of Spain!
[_While he is speaking_ RUY BLAS _silently bolts the door;
then, creeping behind_ DON SALLUST, _he snatches his
sword from the scabbard. _
RUY BLAS: Insult the queen again, you wretch, and I
Will kill you where you stand. You foul, black snake,
Crawl in the further room and say your prayers.
[DON SALLUST _rushes towards the outer door;_ RUY
BLAS _pushes him back at the sword's point. _
THE QUEEN: You are not going to slay him?
RUY BLAS: This affair
Must be now settled once for all. Go in!
[_This to_ DON SALLUST, _whom he has now almost
driven into the further room. _
DON SALLUST: Give me a sword, and let us fight it out.
RUY BLAS: Surely a nobleman would never stoop
To fight a duel with his serving-man?
No! I am going to kill you like a dog!
THE QUEEN: Spare him!
DON SALLUST: Help! Murder! Help!
RUY BLAS: Have you done?
[DON SALLUST _leaps at_ RUY BLAS, _and the two men reel
into the further room, and the door closes behind
them. _ THE QUEEN _covers her face. _
THE QUEEN: Oh, God!
[_There is a silence. _ RUY BLAS _returns without the
sword. _
RUY BLAS (_falling on his knees_): Pardon me, madam, pardon me!
I am less guilty than I seem. At heart,
I am an honest man. My love for you
Led me into the trap that villain laid.
Will you not pardon me?
THE QUEEN: No!
RUY BLAS: Never?
THE QUEEN: No!
[_Staggering to the table, he seizes the glass and
drains it. _
RUY BLAS: Well, that is over, then.
THE QUEEN (_running up to him_): What have you _done_?
RUY BLAS: Nothing. But, oh, to think you loved me once!
THE QUEEN: What was there in that glass? I love you still!
What was it? Poison? Tell me.
RUY BLAS (_as she clasps him_): Yes, my queen.
THE QUEEN: Then I have killed you! But I love you now!
More than before. Had I but pardoned you--
RUY BLAS: I should have drunk the poison all the same.
I could not bear to live. 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!
