Enter Busonier. BUSONIER.-And Busonier, too! Here's one you haven't men tioned. THIRION.-Busonier! you here! BUSONIER [shaking hands].-Here I am! I heard of Madame Vanhove's arrival and started for the country the first thing in the morning, so as to be the first to announce to her the great news. THIRION.-The great news? What news? BUSONIER.-What! You don't know? [Bursts out laughing.] BUSONIER [laughing].-You're certainly the only onesSuch a thing to happen to me-customhouse inspectorwhy, my friend, it's the only topic in the cafés, in the theatres, in the papers, everywhere. Why, man, I'm famous, thanks to Madame Busonier. THIRION.-Your wife! I understand. BUSONIER. You catch on? And you, Prosper? THIRION. You deserved it long ago. I always said to Madame Thirion: "That's all he lacks. But it will come to that finally." BUSONIER [to Madame Thirion].-He told you that THIRION. A Woman like Madame Busonier, so intelligent, so clever! Ah, I was sure BUSONIER.-Hold on! Allow me! What is it you think has happened? THIRION.-Why, an increase in the family! BUSONIER.-An increase in the family? Well, yes. But not as you understand it! COLOMBA.-Ah! I understand. Madame Busonier- COLOMBA.-Horrors! THIRION.-My dear fellow, before Colomba! BUSONIER.-Faith! Madame Thirion can't take it tragically no more than I; and seeing that I turn the thing into a jest THIRION. A jest! BUSONIER.-What! Do you think I'm going to be such a fool as to tear my hair, to draw more ridicule upon myself! Hardly! Busonier is not such a fool as to give his friends the satisfaction of pitying him! At the first news, another man would have hidden himself! But I -took my cane, put on my hat, and went straight to my club. As I enter, some one holds out his hand to me with an air of condolence. I burst out laughing. The crowd retorts. But I was the first to laugh, and my laugh killed theirs. Let a hunch-back forget his hump, and nobody thinks of it! COLOMBA.-You take it philosophically! BUSONIER.-Do you want me to take it like a hoodwinked husband? Am I so joined to the frivolities of Madame Busonier that my thirty years of well-known probity should become bankrupt owing to the loss of her virtue? Thank God, my honor is my own-as her dishonor is hers. I was an honest husband! I remain an honest man! She loses both.-So much the worse for her! PROSPER.-There's a man without prejudices for you! BUSONIER.-To be sure; and that is also the opinion of a sensible and intelligent woman to whom I related the affair this morning. THIRION.-Who's that? BUSONIER.-Mademoiselle Suzanne. THIRION.-She here! BUSONIER.-At Chinon, where I left her in the midst of her trunks. She has come to spend the autumn at the château. COLOMBA.-Who is this Mademoiselle Suzanne? BUSONIER.-Ah, true! Madame doesn't know her. Mademoiselle Suzanne is a Parisian, a little cousin of Madame Vanhove's and godmother to her younger sister, who, coming into a snug little fortune on the death of her parents, has steadily refused the best matches, out of sheer love of independence. COLOMBA.-An old maid! BUSONIER.-A charming woman, just verging on thirty, and who, consequently, has the right to know in theory many things which young girls are supposed not to know. Spirituelle, with a frankness of manner that would perhaps be offensive in another-but which she renders amiable; moving among the best people in Paris; and more virtuous in her liberty than many another in chains-as Madame Busonier can testify. PROSPER.-Bah! don't talk of Madame Busonier; it's laughable. THIRION.-Oh, she! Gad! She'd shrug her shoulders at such trifles. PROSPER. That she would. THIRION.-Yes, in China it's tolerated indulgently. PROSPER.-And in the Marquesas Islands it's quite an honor. THIRION [trying to hush him].—Softly, my friend. Colomba! PROSPER.-An honor! Intrigued for! Solicited! Implored! THIRION.-My friend, Colomba! Colomb PROSPER [continuing and rising].-Bah! Madame will soon understand all that. It's a matter of latitude. What is honor, in such a case? A mere shadow! Now all travellers will tell you that the nearer you come to the equator, the shorter the shadows, on account of the perpendicularity of the rays of the sun. At Java, for instance, a deer, an elk, or Busonier, might walk with impunity in broad daylight without blushing at their shadows. But let them go northward, and presto!there is the shadow-which lengthens, lengthens and the fear of ridicule grows with the length of the shadow. THIRION. Then that is why Vanhove is so jealous. - PROSPER.-He is from the North? THIRION.-A Hollander. PROSPER.-He is afraid of his shadow. Enter Vanhove crossing through the park at the back. COLOMBA.-Good-morning, Monsieur Vanhove. Did you have a good night? VANHOVE.-Thanks. Yes. BUSONIER.-Is Madame Vanhove down yet? VANHOVE.-I believe so. THIRION. Then we'll go say good-morning to her with Mon20-Classics. Vol. 37 sieur. M. Prosper Block-the friend of whom I spoke last night. He would like to have an interview with you. VANHOVE.-Very well. PROSPER [aside].-What ice! THIRION. We'll see you later. [Exeunt Colomba, Thirion. VANHOVE.-You've come to join us in the chase, sir? PROSPER.-The chase? No. That is, yes, but another sort of chase. VANHOVE [coldly].—Indeed. PROSPER.-Let me come to the point at once. I am a bachelor, and, you'll be surprised to hear, have just come from India for the purpose of getting married. But I will say at the outset that my hand is forced. VANHOVE.-Indeed. PROSPER.-I'll tell you how: I am only heir to a very rich uncle, who's even more pig-headed than he is rich. And as for my patrimony-swallowed up, shipwrecked, in the course of long voyages. VANHOVE.-Indeed. PROSPER.-You'll perhaps want to know why I undertook such long and expensive journeys? VANHOVE.-No. PROSPER.-NO! Then perhaps you wouldn't like to hear about woman's treachery and the cruel mishap that forced me to seek oblivion on the foamy brine? VANHOVE.-No. PROSPER.-NO! But still you must be impatient to learn the causes that make marriage a necessity to me? VANHOVE.-No. PROSPER.-Excuse me-But it's absolutely indispensable that you should be impatient to learn about them. Otherwise I should have no reason for telling you about them. VANHOVE [Coolly].-As you will. I'm all impatience. PROSPER.-Then I will yield to your desire, and begin; but don't be alarmed, I'll make a short story of it. A month ago, after three years of wandering over land and sea, I turn up, with my whole cargo of stuffed crocodiles and parrots, at the house of the uncle of whom I spoke to you, who lives alone in a kind of a dove-cote, about a mile from here. He opens his door, "Ah vagabond," he and, instead of embracing me: door in my face, leaving me in the street, with all my traps. Now what do you say to that? VANHOVE.-Nothing. PROSPER.-Nothing! Then don't let's talk of it any more. So then I made up my mind to take up my quarters with your neighbor, my friend Thirion, who has kept my room ready for me these ten years. "I have it!" says he "Just the thing for you! M. Vanhove has just arrived with his wife and his little sister-in-law. She's a pearl. Go find him, make your request, and it's done." I come to you, make my request for the hand of your sister-in-law is it done? VANHOVE.-Well, I don't say no. PROSPER.-Then it is yes? VANHOVE.-Oh, no. PROSPER.-Then what is it, my good sir? VANHOVE.-Go see my wife-her sister. It concerns her more [Rings. PROSPER.-You are right. And I am the more pleased, because than me. three years ago, when I was on a visit to my friend, Thirion, I had the honor of making the acquaintance of Madame de Crussolles; and if I've never seen Mademoiselle Marthe, who was then at the convent, I am wellknown to Madame Vanhove. VANHOVE.-Ah, indeed! [Rings. |