SCENE IX.
(Enter Mme. Kloekher and Alfred, R.; she leans on his arm)
PAUL [aside]: Still with her! [Observes them]
MME. KLOEKHER: IS that a threat, then?
ALFRED: Just as you choose to understand it, my dear.
MME. KLOEKHER [disdainfully]: Do it, then! Do it!
ALFRED: Very well, since that is your decision. All is over between us. But — suppose I blow my brains out here — at your ball?
MME. KLOEKHER [laughs loudly]: OH! ha! ha! ha! That would be too absurd!
ALFRED [aside, puts on his hat]: Indeed! Well, we'll try another way! [Exit. Dance music stops; attendants begin to serve supper upon small round tables back of the arches C.]
SCENE X.
PAUL: So — that man loves you!
MME. KLOEKHPR: He? Never!
PAUL: But —
MME. KLOEKHER: What I Reproaches already?
PAUL: Oh, I was wrong, — I know it. Pardon me! It is not my fault if —
MME. KLOEKHER: Speak lower. Some one may hear you.
PAUL [looks up stage]: No, until supper is over no one will come in here. Listen to me, Madame! In heaven's name, stay here with me!
MME. KLOEKHER: Well, I am here. What do you wish?
PAUL: I cannot tell you now; my head is in a whirl. I am so happy only to be able to look at you, face to face. Just now, when we were with the others and every one was pressing near you, I was delighted to observe the glances of admiration and homage that were cast upon you, and to listen to the murmurs of approval and envy. But soon it began to displease me — I hated it! Yes, because you gave back your smiles, your sweet words, which seem almost a part of yourself, of your very heart. These surroundings, the gilding on the walls, the silver ornaments, the servants, the music, even your diamonds, seem only so many things to disguise you the more, to hold you farther from me, to separate your heart from mine!
MME. KLOEKHER: What an impetuous boy you are! But you must know only too well — [Silence]
PAUL: What? Speak! speak!
MME. KLOEKHER: That — that one cannot help liking you!
PAUL [approaches her and takes her hand]: Is that true? Ah, speak the dear word I long to hear! I am not accustomed to happiness, Madame, and how do you think I can believe that if I do not hear the sweet assurance from your own lips? But no, — do not say it! If you really love me — which is the same as to say that heaven itself is about to open for me — make me only one little sign, give me one smile!
(Mme. Kloekher looks at Paul smilingly and makes a gentle inclination of her head. Paul seizes her hand, kisses it, and sinks on one knee before her)
MME. KLOEKHER: Take care! Some one will see us! [Aside] What fire! What passion! [Paul rises]
PAUL: Oh, this is torture! You do not realise that I love you to madness! I would destroy everything that keeps us from each other. What would it cost you to grant me, wherever you choose, one hour, where I might carry out my delusion and imagine you and myself the only beings in the world? Would it be too much for you to grant me this — tell me? MME. KLOEKHER: Some one comes! Retire for a moment. [Paul disappears R. between two caryatides]
SCENE XI.
(Enter Letourneux hastily)
LETOURNEUX: Well, Madame, your husband has given me a fine specimen of friendship!
MME. KLOEKHER: What is the matter with him?
LETOURNEUX: I am indignant!
MME. KLOEKHER: There! there! Calm yourself, I beg.
LETOURNEUX: But I shall be avenged! Oh, yes!
MME. KLOEKHER: What has he done to you?
LETOURNEUX: YOU ask me that? She asks me that! Ha! Well, Madame, we had agreed — your charming husband and I — upon a transaction regarding two hundred shares of Hanover, at the latest price quoted, the profit of which he was to give me and I was to pocket it. Is that clear? Now, when I bring him the papers of agreement and ask him to settle, he reluctantly hands over only half of what he ought to give me! But he cannot play that sort of trick on me. Where is Paul? I intend to tell him everything.
MME. KLOEKHER: Good heavens! what?
LETOURNEUX: I shall tell him what you know as well as I, Madame. I mean the fact that your husband has robbed him of his inheritance. And a lawsuit will make the affair talked of over all Europe.
MME. KLOEKHER: And you count upon Paul — as if it were possible!
LETOURNEUX: And why not, pray?
MME. KLOEKHER: YOU are too curious, my dear sir! However, to save you trouble, I will tell you that Paul is only a simple youth, a mere child, and that — he is in love with me!
LETOURNEUX: A fine reason!
MME. KLOEKHER: Excellent, I assure you. It is our family, it is I whom he will believe, and not you, important man though you are. Go elsewhere to find aid in your turpitude and your revenge. As to Paul, I repeat, he belongs to me. He is my thing, my slave, and at a sign from me he would gladly throw himself into a pit!
LETOURNEUX: We shall see, Madame, we shall see!
[Exit C.
SCENE XII.
PAUL [re-enters slowly from behind the caryatid]: You are right, Madame; I am a mere child, your thing and your slave!
MME. KLOEKHER: Heavens! Do not believe —
PAUL: I have heard all! I was behind that statue, where I hid in order to listen to the confidences of perhaps another lover. Chance has punished me for my jealousy in cruelly undeceiving me.
MME. KLOEKHER: Oh, Paul, I swear to you —
PAUL: No vows, I beg of you! Fear nothing! Never shall I injure by the scandal of a lawsuit, the woman, whatever she may be, whom I have — honoured with my love! So calm yourself and permit me to retire.
MME. KLOEKHER: But you have not understood — I am not to blame — it is an odious plot — I will explain to you! Paul, I entreat you! Paul, I love you!
(Paul is about to go, L. with bent head and heavy step. At the door he pauses. Enter Letourneux hastily; he approaches Paul)
SCENE XIII.
(During the following dialogue the other guests enter in small groups, and listen to the conversation)
LETOURNEUX: At last I have found you again. Listen to me! [Paul stands motionless, lost in thought] Paul! [Taps Paul on the shoulder] My friend! Paul, my dear boy!
PAUL [turns his head slowly]: What do you wish?
LETOURNEUX [raises his voice]: I wish to inform you, as well as everyone present — in your own interest as well as for the sake of public morality, in order to bring about at the same time a reparation and a just punishment — I wish, I say, to reveal to you an infamous plot of which you are the victim. I possess authentic proofs — written documents! You have been shamefully cheated by that man — Kloekher, the banker! [Sensation; murmurs of surprise and indignation]
PAUL [tears off his white glove]: Monsieur, you are an impudent liar!
LETOURNEUX: I!
PAUL: Yes, you, villain! and as an emphasis to what I have said, I insult you to your face! [Throws his glove in Letoumeux' face]
LETOURNEUX: Ah!
PAUL [bows]: I am at your service, Monsieur!
GUESTS: Separate them! They will fight!
LETOURNEUX: A duel! A man of my character is not ruled by such means. True strength lies rather in enduring physical injury and in seeking revenge by a legal process. I have plenty of civil courage! [Exit proudly.
PAUL [in suppressed rage]: Infamous rascal!
KLOEKHER [tries to take Paul's hand]: Ah, my dear .fellow, how wisely you have acted! You have shown yourself a true friend. My gratitude —
PAUL: DO not speak to me again, Monsieur! [Exit.
KLOEKHER: What is the matter with him?
GUESTS: What a queer fellow! Did you see him?
GUESTS: Such a scandal to happen at a ball! Dear! dear! one never knows what will happen!
(Guests depart. After they have gone and the stage is clear, the lights burn brighter, with pink, green, and blue tints. The flowers in the jardinières revive and bloom anew. The caryatide
s R.and L. move and express pleasure in gestures. They are the Fairies, who rejoice at the evidence of Paul's virtue)
FOURTH TABLEAU. PAUL THE DELIVERER.
Scene: A miserably furnished apartment. Small windows R. and L. At the back, C. a chimney with a dying charcoal fire. A door L. of chimney. On the mantelpiece is a box containing pistols. Near L. I. E. is a rough table and two cane-seated chairs. Near R. I. E. a pair of varnished boots on a boot-tree. Close beside these is a bed, and at L. I. E. there is a small closet. Day is breaking; a dim light comes through the curtainless windows.
SCENE I.
(Enter Dominique; he is dressed in shirt and trousers, without a waistcoat, and has a Madras handkerchief bound around his head. Approaches the fireplace; his teeth chatter)
OMINIQUE: Heavens! how cold it is! When Monsieur Paul returns he will be half frozen. [Laughs ironically] Ah, Monsieur! Well, and how about me? Am I not frozen? Don't I suffer? What kind of life is this miserable existence? Let him do as he pleases, if it amuses him, but as for me — a man born to shine in the ante-chambers of ambassadors, at the very least — this sort of life is a humiliation. [Searches about the room] And not a stick of wood in this infernal garret, full of draughts! [Still searching] No, not one! It is four months now that I have been cooped up here, trying to pass away the time while he was making his applications. First, he was after a place in the diplomatic service; then a scientific mission; next an inspectorship of I don't know what; and this evening he said he would surely return from the house of the banker Kloekher with full hands and his future provided for. I begin to have some doubts of our future myself! I have wished to separate mine from his and to present him squarely with my bill. Monsieur is a fine young man, that's certain. But [taps his forehead] a little bit touched! The devil! my hands are numb with cold! [Looks at pistols on the mantelpiece] There is a box that tempts me very much. But no! our means do not allow us to indulge in a mahogany case! No, indeed! [In backing away from the chimney he stumbles upon a straw mat] Stupid! what am I about? Wait a bit! [Picks up the mat, throws it on the fire and watches it burn] To be reduced to this! But our bad luck cannot last much longer — it is tpo wretched. However, if it doesn't change within a week I shall say goodbye! [The fire fiames up; he rubs his hands over it] Ah, that feels good! That was decidedly a bright idea of mine. What's the use of bothering oneself to keep things? Pity we haven't a good substantial sofa to toast our toes by while poking the fire. What a miserable little chair that is! Since my master is out all day running about, I don't see why I shouldn't — [Throws a small chair into the fire] There you go! Any one would say that I am a simpleton to devote myself to him. There never was such a valet as I. Great heavens! how cold it is! That chair burns like a match. And, after all his promises, what do I get? How am I benefited? He will only laugh at me in the end, and while I stay here, dancing attendance on him and freezing to death, he is playing the gallant in the drawing-rooms of charming ladies! Suppose I break up the table to keep the fire going? No, it would soon be gone. [Sees boots] Ah, the boots! [Pulls them off the boot-tree] Why not? [Throws them in the fire] Burn, then! Perhaps he'll be angry. Ah, well, so much the worse!
SCENE II.
(Enter Paul, in evening dress, without an overcoat; his clothes are damp; there is a little snow on his shoulders; he carries his hands tucked under his arms)
PAUL: What are you doing there? I did not tell you to wait for me. Go to bed!
DOMINIQUE: But —
PAUL [brutally]: Get along with you! Get out! Leave me!
DOMINIQUE: Oho! He is very proud and touchy. a Something good must have happened at last.
[Exit.
SCENE III.
PAUL [remains for some time with his head resting in his hands, then sighs deeply]: Ah! [Throws his hat on the Bed] What a night! [Looks slowly around the room] And what a place! [Glances at window] Why, day is breaking, and it is still snowing. But nothing will fall from heaven to blot out all my misery. [Weeps] Ah, how weary I am! [Stands in front of the fireplace, his arm leaning on the mantel-piece] They are all cowards, egoists, cruel, ingrates and hypocrites! And with what smiles, sweet words, affectionate embraces, and even, O sacrilege! professions of love! And I hoped to find in this arid desert something to quench the thirst of my heart! In how many countries have I dreamed my dreams? And everywhere, among masks and brazen vice, have I met the same ignominious deceptions. And now they seek me out; they attack me. Enough, enough! I'll have no more of it. Why should I continue to' live, since I cannot change the world? If I could only find one single soul that would really love me! [Walks about] Come! no more weakness! I will leave all at once, before my resolution weakens, before I feel the first blush of shame, in all the integrity of my pride and honour, like the Ancient Oriental kings, who killed themselves in the midst of their riches. It needs only strong resolution for a moment. That should not be difficult. Everything urges me to it. [Sees the box of pistols] Ah, even chance itself! [Takes pistols from box and examines them] The man that sold them to me laid particular stress upon the length of their range. But at the distance I shall require, they need not be anything out of the common! That would be quite superfluous. Let us try. [Snaps the hammer] Good! Where is my powder? [Takes box of powder and pours a little into his hand, then puts it into the pistol, throwing the rest into the fire, which springs up into bright flames. He continues to load the pistol] Now the bullet, next the cap; and now I have only to give myself a sign, to make a single gesture, to be free! [Six o'clock strikes from a neighbouring clock] Six o'clock! At the first stroke of the half hour, all will be over! [Looks around the room and sees a box full of letters on the table] Oh — those! I had forgotten them. Nothing of myself or of my past must remain. All letters must be burned. [Throws letters into the fire and sinks into a chair] Ah, the flames warm me again. I do not suffer now. No, quite the contrary. To think that perhaps those ashes will still be warm after my body is cold in death! Then, — everything belonging to me will be scattered, dispersed. My life will have passed, like the fading figures that trace themselves in the coals. [Stares at the fire] It seems to me I can see among the embers purple shores along a lake of fire. Beyond that are shadowy buildings, the spires of a cathedral, the masts of vessels. They fade — then reappear, like my former dreams. I fancy I hear the wind among the sails, and the walls of my cabin creaking in the night watches! Ha! that is strange! There is one letter that refuses to burn. It even grows whiter in the flames. What is that? [Picks the letter from the fire] It is not even hot! What is the meaning of this? [The fireplace, little by little, is enlarged, growing higher and wider, and back of the flames appear the scenes of which Paul has just spoken. At last a castle of strange architecture is visible, having small windows, like those of a fort] Is that a fortress? I never saw it before. [The letter glows with a soft radiance. Paul reads] "Behold the castle wherein the wicked Gnomes hold captive the hearts of men. We depend upon thee to deliver them. Thy reward shall be a love surpassing all thy dreams. Thou wilt meet often the one whom we have chosen for thee; try to recognise her, else thou wilt be irrevocably lost. Art thou ready? The Queen of the Fairies." I? But how am I to know?
(Chorus of Fairies encourages him)
PAUL [remains for some moments a prey to terrible anxiety; then with a gesture of heroic resolution]: I accept! I will go! [Two knocks on the door are heard]
VOICE [without]: Open, Dominique! [Knock]
PAUL: Who is there? [Opens the door]
SCENE IV.
(Enter Jeanne, carrying a large basket on each arm)
JEANNE [surprised]: Monsieur Paul!
PAUL: Jeannette! What does this mean? [Jeanne puts her baskets on the table with an air of fatigue] What has brought you to Paris? [Silence]
JEANNE: TO — to sell milk, Monsieur!
PAUL: Milk! With those two baskets — and at my rooms? [Jeanne hangs her head] You are hiding something from me, Jeannette.
JEANNE [shields with her arm the basket near her
]: No, Monsieur, I declare to you —
PAUL [observes her gesture]: There is something inside of that basket. [Lifts the lid] My silk handkerchiefs, my shirts — all my linen! [Looks sternly at Jeanne]
JEANNE [quickly]: Oh, don't, be angry! If they are not well done, I will do them all over again. [Silence. Jeanne hangs her head]
Complete Works of Gustave Flaubert Page 427