Dian. Quick, quick, then! They hasten towards door, which opens, and enter the COUNT, an OFFICER, and two EXEMPTS, C. My husband! [Starts back. Hen. Gentlemen, allow me to pass. Pray do not detain me. De L. Do your duty. [They advance towards HENRIETTE. Hen. In the name of heaven, let me pass! Tell them, monsieur, to let me pass. The voice is dying away. Let me pass, let me pass, or I shall lose her again! De L. Conduct this girl to the prison. Hen. [with horror.] Why, why? what have I done? What crime have I committed? But no matter for that-kill me-imprison me, if you will, an hour hence, when I have seen her; but let me save her now; let me save her now! De L. [to OFFICER.] Obey my orders. Hen. Ah! [Is forced off by EXEMPTS. Dian. I, at least, may- [About to go. De L. [holding her.] You will remain here, madame, and tell me what brought you to this place. [He brings her down. Dian. Another time you shall know all. But now, [struggling] let me go. I must not lose her. De L. Not lose her. Of whom are you talking? Dian. Of-of De L. Go on, madame, go on. [Sternly. The COUNTESS looks at him, then falls back into chair. ACT V. TABLEAU VI.-The Salpetrière. A court planted with leafless trees and enclosed by a wall, above which the dome of the church is visible, L. A grating opening on the principal court. Infirmary R. Entrance to dormitory L. MARIANNE, FLORETTE, CORA, JULIE, etc., discovered, as prisoners, superintended by several NUNS. The prisoners are working. The NUNS move among the prisoners reading their prayers. Mar. [reflecting.] I have borne in mind the words of those young girls-when I have quitted prison I shall have paid my debt to man, and when I have repented I shall be at peace with heaven. Yes, I have remembered them well. I have repented! I shall soon be at liberty! Flo. Oh, how wretched I am! I cannot bear this any longer! Mar. Try to work; it will occupy your mind. Flo. Yes, and wear out my fingers. This horrid coarse cloth. Mar. You have not been used to a life of toil. Mar. Our careers were very different. Mar. I was contented with an humble print. Julie. So did I. be thrust into an ugly cart, like that which left here yesterday, followed by the howling of the mob. Mar. You don't like the thought of transportation? Flo. Indeed, I do not. First of all, there's the voyage itself-two months of sea, ugh! and in such company, too. Then a desert, peopled with snakes and tigers! This for one who always screamed at a mouse! Mar. The prospect is certainly alarming, but is less so to me than to you. I shall find that I am aloof from the temptations that have been my ruin. I can work. Flo. But what a horrible life! They tell me, indeed, that there is a chance of picking up a husband, so there may be somebody to vex one's spite on. Mar. Perhaps you will not have to leave France, after all. Show yourself submissive, give signs of contrition, and you will find a friend in the Superior. Flo. That is she coming out of the Infirmary, is it not? Mar. It is. She has been tending the sick, and now she comes here to solace the afflicted. Enter SISTER GENEVIEVE, R. Flo. For such a very good person she really does not look disagreeable. Mar. What do I not owe to her advice and encouragement? [The grating is opened. Doc. I have done all that was possible. I have represented the interest you take in the poor girl. I have stated that she is quite penitent and resigned. I have even improved the story with a few inventions of my own. Gen. There you were wrong, doctor. You should adhere to the truth, and nothing but the truth. However, go on—you have succeeded? Doc. Perfectly! Marianne, come Gen. Heaven be thanked! hither, child. Here is our good doctor-let him tell you himself what he has done for you. Mar. [R. C.] For me, monsieur? Doc. Yes, but you must rather thank Sister Genevieve. It was she who prevailed upon me to obtain the pardon which I now bring. [Gives paper to GENEVIEVE. Mar. My benefactress! My mother! [PRISONERS approach and listen. Doc. She has done everything. Our noble, admirable Sister Genevieve, who, born in the prison, has never crossed its threshold-who is content to live as a mother to the afflicted. [PRISONERS kiss the hand of GENEVIEVE.] And they know it, too, poor things; there is some good in them, after all. Gen. It is time to go in. [Bell rings.] You will be free this evening, child. Society sent me a culprit; and I send back a good, honest girl. Am I not right, Marianne? Mar. I trust so, indeed! [GIRLS exit. Hen. [behind scenes.] Let me go, I say, let me go! Gen. What is the meaning of this? Doc. A case of insubordination, I suspect; I will make all right. Gen. I recognize the voice. It is the young girl who was brought here two days ago. Doc. Aye, she was attacked by delirium! HENRIETTE appears at door, R. Pic. I am here by order of the Count de Linieres, madame. Gen. But who are you? Pic. The head valet de chambre of his Excellency, the Lieutenant of Police. Gen. It was by his order, I suppose, that this young girl Pic. Ah, sister, it is the misfortune of people in Hen. Do not dare to detain me-I will leave high position that painful duties are forced upon this place, I will. Mar. Good heavens! it is she! Hen. Ah, madame! if you have any influence here, have pity on me; bid them let me go; on my knees, I implore you! Mar. I am not deceived-it is she indeed! Gen. Be calm, my poor child, be calm. Recollect, you are an invalid, and need every care. Doc. Why did you come out here without my permission? Hen. Oh, monsieur! I am quite well now, and besides, I am in full possession of my senses. You tended me-you can vouch for that-you can order them to set me free. Doc. Impossible! To regain your liberty you require an order more powerful than mine! Hen. Am I not then in an infirmary? Doc. In an infirmary attached to a prison. Hen. Yes, yes-true! I remember the soldiers who brought me hither, the man who ordered them! Yes, I know, this is the Salpetrière, the house for mendicants, for maniacs, for outcasts! Gracious heavens! what have I done that I am here? [Throws herself on bench R., and weeps. Doc. [to GENEVIEVE.] Sister, this is a case that can be trusted to you alone. [Exit L. Gen. I have seen many culprits in my time, but certainly this one- [Going to MARIANNE. Mar. She is not a culprit, sister. Gen. You know her, then? Mar. I have told you that once in the depth of my despair I intended to destroy myself. Gen. I remember perfectly. Mar. I told you that two young girls, angels in human form, dissuaded me from adding this crime to my other offenses. Gen. Yes, I remember that also. They helped you from their scanty means, and guided you by good advice. Mar. Of those two girls, that is one, sister. Mar. Yes, to my surprise. She must have been brought hither by mistake. She could never have been stained by guilt. Gen. [to HENRIETTE.] Courage, child, courage. Mar. Look at me, mademoiselle; I am the woman whom you met one day on the quay-the woman who wished to die! them. Put the case of a gentleman who falls madly in love with a girl without family or fortune, very pretty, no doubt, of unblemished character, we'll admit. Well, what is to be done? The dignity of the family must be secured at any price, and the object of a misplaced passion is made to disappear. Hen. Did not I, in your presence, before your very face, refuse the hand of the Chevalier de Vaudray? Pic. Oh, certainly, mademoiselle, that is quite true-I can't deny that. Gen. And this poor innocent girl is thrown here like a criminal because she loves, and her disappearance is desired to satisfy Mar. Did I not say as much, madame? Pic. Even this noble sacrifice is insufficent; and you will understand me, mademoiselle, [to HENRIETTE] that if the Lady Superior will allow me to communicate the wishes of the Lieutenant of Police Gen. Certainly. We'll leave you here; courage, child, courage! Mar. Courage, I implore you. [Exit R., with GENEVIEVE. Hen. Now we are alone, what have you to tell me? What new calamity am I to hear from you? You, whom I once thought devoted to your master, and who, no doubt, are now here simply to betray him. Pic. No, no, mademoiselle, you make a slight mistake. I am in the service of a gentleman who pays me handsomely, and whom I cheat confoundedly. He places the most implicit confidence in me and I basely abuse the trust. So far you are right, mademoiselle; but you must know that the gentleman who pays so handsomely, and is so abominably cheated, is the Lieutenant of Police. Hen. Is it possible! Pic. The person to whom I am really devoted," and whom I faithfully serve, is the Chevalier de Vaudray; or, rather, no-the one I respect, the one I admire, the one I would save, is yourself, mademoiselle. Hen. I? Pic. Yes; you have upset all my principles, all my political ideas. Hen. And Armand? Pic. Oh, he is locked up too. Out upon it! Hen. He is a prisoner too. Hen. Yes, yes, I remember you well. I recognize you face. [Crosses to her and returns.] Ah, there was another with me then-my poor sister. Pic. Almost as bad; but at the last moment I Mar. I was just saying so, mademoiselle- was able to receive his instructions. He made me another angel, like yourself! No offense, I am swear that I would visit you, and tell you that he sure, has been committed by you. would undergo any persecution rather than reHen. She is right, madame; indeed I am inno-nounce his love for you, even if they resolved to cent, I swear before heaven! [Crosses up to R. C. send you to Guyanne. Gen. There is no need of an oath, my child. Your face tells me you are incapable of a falsehood. Hen. I am, indeed I am! Enter PICARD; he bows to GENEVIEVE. Gen. Well, why are you here? Hen. Send me to Guyanne! They cannot design that; that would be my death. Pic. Don't be in a hurry; you shall know all about it in good time. My sham master-that is, the one who pays me, etc., etc.-will confide his plans to me; I shall immediately confide them to It strikes me my real master, etc., etc.; he will pretend to com-rescue her from the grasp of the fiend; and now ply with your uncle's wishes, and as soon as he is I do not know where she is. I have lost her free he will drive full speed and overtake your again; now, perhaps, forever! [Weeps. escort, followed by your humble servant; and if Doc. Stop, child, not so fast. they prove incorruptible-that is to say, if we have not money enough to buy them-well, in that case we will go on board the ship with you; and we'll all live merrily together in Guyanne. We shall all be so happy. Hen. How can you talk to me of happiness? What will become of my poor Louise? Who will look after her? Pic. What do you think I am nobody-that I am one who folds his arms and does nothing? Do you forget that I am attached to the police? Depend upon it that before they have so much as settled this little plan for foreign traveling, I shall have arranged it all. [EXEMPTS appear behind grating. Hen. Good gracious! Look there! Pic. The deuce! What is the meaning of this? [The grating opens. Enter MARAIS, who arranges EXEMPTS. Enter GENEVIEVE and DOCTOR. Gen. Ah, Doctor, some more unhappy creatures to be taken from my care! Doc. And dispatched to Guyanne. No doubt the most guilty have been selected. Gen. And therefore the most unfortunate! Marais. [coming forward.] Sister, here is my warrant, and this is the list of prisoners who are to set off this evening. I will, if you please, give the orders for the departure, and we will then compare the names on the list with those on your register! Gen. I will follow you directly! [Exit MARAIS, bowing. Looks over list.] This list!-I dread to look at it! [Reads, and casts a glance at HENRIETTE.] Ah! Hen. Madame, why do you look at me thus? Why, for pity's sake, why? Gen. Poor girl, poor girl! Hen. I see my name is on that list, all is lost! Pic. [aside to GENEVIEVE.] Can it be true that Gen. [reads in faltering voice.] "Henriette Gerard." Hen. Ah! [Falls into the arms of the DOCTOR and MARIANNE, who lead her to a seat. Gen. Poor child! Pic. Oh! that d -d sham master of mine, he has duped me after all! he doubted my fidelity! What an insult! Won't I pay him out for it! [Exit c. Hen. [to MARIANNE.] Ah, poor woman, I can understand now that people may wish to die! Mar. Do not speak in that way. Remember your words to me! Doc. If you have any family, think of them! Hen. Monsieur, I do not fear banishment on my own account. Mar. No; she has a blind sister, who depends on her alone. Hen. I had just found her when I was arrested. I had recognized her voice, I even saw her-she was singing dressed in rags; her beautiful hair hung in disorder about her shoulders; she seemed as though she was weary; she was dragged along by a horrible woman, who, no doubt, is torturing | her now-and they would not let me hasten to her, that I have found the very person for whom you are weeping! Hen. You, monsieur, you! Doc. Yes; she has beautiful hair and large eyes. Is that right? Hen. [eagerly.] Yes, yes! Doc. Let me see-what did the old woman call her? Ah! her name is Louise! Hen. It is! it is! You have seen her, I am sure! Doc. More than that, I know the woman who was leading her; she was once a patient of mine, and is called La Frochard. Mar. The mother of Jacques! Cheer up, we shall soon find your sister. La Frochard; she lives in a garret, in the Rue de Lorraine. Hen. We shall find her, indeed! and, perhaps, I shall soon- No, no, I forgot, I must leave France! I must leave! thing of the kind. Mar. No, mademoiselle, you need not do any Doc. What does she mean by that? Hen. I need not leave! Why try to delude me? The carriage that is to take me away, I can clearly see it. Sobs.] Oh, my poor Louise! Louise! Mar. I tell you, you shall not leave Paris! Hen. How can it be otherwise? Mar. Doctor, do have pity on her, and promise to assist me! Mar. Mark me; if I remain in Paris, I shall soon see Jacques again; and in that case my destruction is certain; you, on the other hand, will see your sister, and you will be saved-both! Hen. My poor Louise! Mar. Here, take this. [Gives pardon. HENRIETTE looks at DOCTOR doubtfully. Doc. Take it; it is the order for your liberation. Mar. And your sister's only hope of safety. Re-enter GENEVIEVE, C. Doc. Ah, Sister Genevieve! Marais. Madame, you will kindly look over this list, and then you will please to sign it, to show that there is no mistake as to the identity of the prisoners who are to be removed. Mar. Ah! Doc. [aside.] All is lost! Hen. aside.] Heaven decreed it otherwise! Gen. I am ready, monsieur. Marais. [calling names.] Françoise Morand. Gen. Yes. Marais Mathilde Raymond. TABLEAU VII.-A wretchedly-furnished room. At the back, in a corner, L., LA FROCHARD'S bed, partially concealed by an old shawl hanging from a rope. A door in R. C. flat. To the R. a window, a narrow staircase leading to a loft, the door of which is ajar, R. C. To the right an old buffet, and near it some straw covered by a ragged counterpane, an old broken arm-chair, a small table, and PIERRE'S wheel. The curtain rising discovers LOUISE asleep on the straw. PIERRE, seated on a stool, is watching her. Pierre. So young, so beautiful, and yet so weak. To this they have brought her! Thus do they treat her! When she returns from her hateful work, this is what she finds a little straw that she may rest her delicate limbs. She may think herself lucky she is not shut up all day and all night in yonder loft, which threatens to kill you with cold as soon as you put your foot in it. And I! what am I? I can do nothing to check these abominations! [Approaches LOUISE more nearly; kneels.] She seems to shudder. How hard she breathes. She is very, very ill. Louise. [half rising.] Who is there? Pierre. It is I, ma'mselle-Pierre ! Louise. Ha, then I can sleep a minute longer. Pierre. Certainly. I shall not leave you. Louise. I am so tired. Thank you, Pierre, thank you. I shall never forget your kindness, Pierre-my only friend-my only- [Sleeps. Pierre. [looking at her.] Ah, sleep is such a blessing to the unhappy. Perhaps she is dreaming of better times, when she was among those whom she loved, and who must have loved her. Oh, how much! [Recedes from her.] Jacques told me that I must not think of her, and when he said it, there was something in his voice and in his eyes that made me tremble. Still, weak as I am, it was not for myself I trembled. Ugh! what do I care for myself-but for her! I wish I could contrive her escape from this hideous place. I have often thought of it. Nay, I once began to put my thoughts into practice-I unscrewed the lock of that wretched loft; but the certainty that I should never see her again seemed to me more dreadful than the pain of seeing her suffer. [With sudden energy.] No, no; cruel as it may seem, let her weep, let her pine; but-ah-let her remain! [Music. *In order to finish the piece with the Seventh Tableau, part of the Eighth is played as a front scene here. Enter LA FROCHARD, with a basket of vegetables. La F. Oh, here you are, are you? What brings you here so soon? had you nothing to do out of doors? Pierre. [going to his wheel.] I came here to get out of the cold. La F. And to be near this girl. Remember, I'm not blind! Pierre. You don't say this to Jacques. La F. As my first-born he is master here, and has a right to do as he pleases. Pierre. Where is he to-day? La F. He is at work. Pierre. Nonsense! La F. Yes, at the currier's over the way; and for the second time this week. A fine boy like him-he actually works. Pierre. Well, mother, don't I work every day? La F. Why, with that shape of yours, how could you do otherwise? Enter JACQUES, C. Jacq. Enough of that job for the present. It tires me horribly. La F. Yes, it is too much for you, my child. [Goes to him and pats cheek; offers chair, which he kicks away. She stands at table, cuts up carrots; places chair at table again. Jacq. You may well say that. Oh, you are there, Cupid; I want you to set my leather-cutter. You can fetch it over the way. [Goes to LOUISE; looks at her. Pierre. Yes, I'll go. [Going-stops at door. Jacq. [looking at LOUISE.] There has been no singing to-day, it seems. La F. No; when the singer likes sleeping better than warbling, it is bad for trade. Jacq. If I am not mistaken, there's a tear on her cheek. Pierre. [coming towards her.] A tear! [JACQUES pushes him away. Jacq. [R. c.] Well, what is that to you? La F. [at table.] She is an artful, obstinate puss. She can't walk unless she is pushed along, and as for trying to make her ladyship sing when she don't choose-ha! Jacq. [seriously.] I warrant you I'll make her sing if I set about it. Pierre. [c.] You'll kill her, then. Don't you see how ill she is? La F. I am up to her tricks. Jacq. [looks at her.] But after all, what is the matter with her? Pierre. That is easily told. You know that, the other evening, when the snow was falling fast, she cried out, at the end of her song, "Henriette, sister!" La F: I had ordered her not to do anything of the kind. Pierre. Yes, and to force her silence you squeezed her wrist till you nearly broke it. La F. She ought to do as she is told, then. Pierre. The bruise is on her poor arm still. Since that moment she has been a prey to grief; and, I tell you, you are killing her. La F. I can't feed people who do nothing. I she won't sing Jacq. Very well-if she don't sing, I'll be responsible. Pierre. You! why, what will you do? La F. Now, ma'mselle, there's no time to be La F. All right. Come along, little one. [Makes lost; you must get ready to go out. Let down LOUISE ascend steps and enter loft, then closes door your hair; and here, let me take off this hand-upon her.] Ah, not a morsel shall you eat before kerchief; it makes you too hot, and prevents you the day after to-morrow. That's the way to bring from shivering. [Pulls LOUISE up; shakes her, people to their senses. etc.; puts handkerchief on herself. Louise. [coolly.] I do not intend to go out. La F. There, you hear her? She won't go out. Jacq. We'll see all about that. Pierre. [aside to LOUISE.] Be cautious. Jacq. [holding out his hand.] Just come a little this way. Louise. I forbid you to touch me. La F. Humph! you were but too glad to find us when you were left alone in the streets. Louise. Yes, on that dreadful evening I was grateful for the shelter you gave me. You promised that we should go together to seek for my sister, and I blessed you from the depth of my heart. But when I discovered that you gave shelter not for compassion, but merely because you thought that I should serve your base purposes; when I knew that you had made of me a miserable beggar; when I felt how you tortured me to hinder me from calling for her whom you had promised to seek with me; oh, my soul revolted against you. And now, weak and broken though I am, my will shall be stronger than your threats--than your violence. In a word, I will not beg any more. Pierre. [at back, terrified.] Louise! Jacq. [with admiration.] Really, she looks superb! La F. [at table.] How do you mean to live without eating! Louise. I am ready to die. Pierre. [aside to LA FROCHARD.] You hear; she would rather die than beg. La F. Stuff! she will end by begging my pardon. Louise. Never! La F. We shall see that presently. In the meanwhile, go up there. [Takes basket, etc., to back. Louise. Willingly; and I will not leave the place unless I am at liberty or dead. Pierre. [mournfully.] Dead! Jacq. [with admiration.] A woman of spirit, and no mistake. I tell you what, little one, you please me more than you think. [Kisses her. Louise. [avoiding him.] Ah! [Raises hand threateningly. Pierre. Defend her; wretched weakling that I am! [Hides face, and sobs. La F. Now then, up those stairs at once. [Forces her up first flight. Jacq. That's right, mother. Jacq. I know a better way still. La F. And what is that? Jacq. When she is my wife she will be forced to obey me. La F. Your wife! Pierre. Are you dreaming? Jacq. At any rate, I have made up my mind that she shall never be the wife of any one else; and when I say I have made up my mind, I say what I mean! La F. Well, if she sang every day, she might not be such a very bad match, after all. Jacq. And we should have the law on our side. It's rather against us now. Pierre. I suppose you must first obtain the girl's consent? Jacq. Pshaw! Refusal would be impossible. Pierre. I don't see that! Jacq. No matter whether you see it or not; come along, Cupid-come along, my gallant knife grinder! Pierre. I have something to do here. Jacq. Likely enough; but you have something else to do over the way-I want you to set my cutlass. Besides, I have my reasons for not allowing you to remain; so trot along. La F. Can't you move when you are ordered? Jacq. Go on first. [Goes to table.. Pierre. Oh, there is not-there cannot be, any blood in my veins. Jacq. Be off! Ta, ta, mother; we shall soon see you again. [Exit c., with PIERRE. La F. Good bye, my darling. [Leaning on table, L.] Ah, there is a fine boy-there is something to be proud of. [Takes flask from pocket and drinks.] Rather flat, this brandy. A capital notion, that of marrying a blind girl. He puts me in mind of his dear father. But will she always be blind? The doctor said that a cure was possible. In that case there would be an end to our trade. What a horrible misfortune! But let us hope for the best. [Drinks again. A knock.] Who's there? [Pause.] How nervous I'm getting lately. [Hides bottle.] Coming, coming. [Half opens "door.] Whom do you want? Hen. [behind scenes.] Madame Frochard. La F. Well, and what do you want with her? Hen. Quite. La F. [peeps to see.] You may come in, then. Enter HENRIETTE, C. LA FROCHARD again looks out, then closes the door. Hen. [aside, with horror.] Is it possible that she lives here? [LA FROCHARD comes R. C. up to her.] The sight of that woman makes me tremble. La F. Come, now, what have you to say to [Beckons her to approach. She goes to him. Pierre. [aside.] Oh, I would rather lose her for ever than endure this! [Rises and goes to stairs. Jacq. [whispering to LA FROCHARD.] Just say-Madame Frochard? Here she is! Pierre. [whispering to LOUISE.] You can escape; the lock is unscrewed. Jacq. [whispering to LA FROCHARD.] Keep her safe locked up. Pierre. [whispering to LOUISE.] There is a key under the mattress. Jacq. [whispering to LA FROCHARD.] I have no confidence in Pierre. Hen. [aside.] How my heart beats. La F. Just now you were in such a hurry. You turn your eyes around as if you were looking for somebody. Hen. I am. I am looking for a person who lives here with you. La F. What sort of person? Hen. A young girl. |