THE ,, DEMI-MONDE: 55 are an FROM THE FRENCH OF ALEXANDRE DUMAS, JR. BY MRS. E. G. SQUIER. PHILADELPHIA : J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1858. TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. THE publication of "LA DAME Aux C AMELIAS," by the younger Dumas, drew upon him no small degree of censure, even in Paris, as an apotheosis of a character which well-organized society condemns. It is said that "LiE DEMI-MONDE" was written as a counterpoise to the previous production ; a weight thrown into the scale of public opinion, to restore the equilibrium of a sinking reputation. But whatever the motive which led to its production, or whether it effected the object attributed to it, is a question of little importance to the American reader. Upon one point, however, there can be no dif- ferences of opinion, namely that it daguerreotypes, with great fidelity, a phase of society not uncommon in Europe, perhaps not impossible in America, which offers, at the same time, a fair mark for the satirist, and a theme of discourse for the moralist. It may, however, be questioned whether the exhortations of the preacher or the shafts of the play-wright will do most to prevent or extirpate a social excrescence like "the Demi-Monde. " (iii) i v TRANSLATOR'S NOTE. At any rate, Dumas has unveiled its features with a bold hand, and exhibited the skeletons of jealousy, deceit, and remorse, that lie beneath its gay and painted exterior. He has "pointed a moral" which it is to be hoped tin- translation will convey, although it cannot aspire to the grace of language, or the sparkle and pungency of ex- pression, which distinguish the original. NEW YORK, May, 1858. THE DEMI-MONDE. * 1* CAST OF CHARACTERS, As Performed at the " Gymnase-Dramatique" Theatre, Paris, March 20th, 1855. DE NANJAC MM. BERTON. OLIVER DE JALIN Dci-ns. DE THONNERINS VILLA RS. HlPPOLYTE RlCHOND IjANDKoL. BARONNESS D'AxGE . . . MADAMES ROSK-('IIKKI. . MADAME DE SANTIS. FIOEAC. COUNTESS DE VERNIRES .... MM.AXIK. MARCELLA . LAUKEXTINK. COSTUMES, Those of the Present Day. First Act is at Oliver's House. Second Act is at the Countess de Vernifires. Third Act is at Madame D'Ange's. Fourth Act is at Madame D'Ange's. Fifth Act, same as First. The Scene is laid in Paris. (vi) ACT FIRST. Room in Oliver's House. COUNTESS AND OLIVER. COUNTESS. Then you promise me this matter shall be amicably settled ? OLIVER. Be assured, I will do my utmost. COUNTESS. I came myself to ask of you this favor, at the risk of meet- ing here the Lord knows who ! OLIVER. Do I, then, keep such disreputable company ? COUNTESS. The world says so ! OLIVER. The world is mistaken, then, for none except your friends visit here. COUNTESS. That is flattering to my friends ! OLIVER. But don't be alarmed about your reputation on account of this visit ; for even if you were seen here, the object of your coming could be easily explained. Two of your friends, Messrs. Maucroix and Latour, have disagreed at cards ; an explanation has become necessary ; it is to take place at my 8 THE DEMI-MONDE. house; I act as Monsieur de Maucroix's friend, and you come to beg me to settle the matter amicably. All this is natural ! COUNTESS. Certainly; yet I wish the world to be ignorant of this visit, for I am unwilling to have it known in Paris that I permit , gambling in my house. If this matter should result seriously, there will be an action at law, and for a woman of position to be arraigned, even as a witness, and have her name in the papers the thought is dreadful ! I entreat you, therefore, to do your utmost toward a friendly settlement of this affair; or, if it cannot be arranged, in the name of our friendship I beg of you let the cause of the duel be assigned to something in which I am not even indirectly implicated. I allow cards for amusement, not to create disputes ! OLIVKR. It shall be as you desire. COUNTESS. Upon this assurance, as Madame de Santis has not arrived, I will take my leave. OLIVER. Ah ! Then you expected Madame de Santis here ? COUNTESS. Yes ; when she heard that I contemplated visiting you, she said that she also would be glad to see you, and would stop here for me. But she is such a madcap, that she has doubtless forgotten her promise. So adieu! But let me observe that you have not even inquired for my niece, who desired to be remembered to you. OUTER. She is very kind ! ACT I. SCENE I. .9 COUNTESS. Ah yes ; she is a good girl, and really likes you, although she knows you would not marry her. OLIVER. Assuredly not ! COUNTESS. My dear friend, you might do worse ; besides, she is of- ered a much better position .than you could give her ! OLIVER. Are you sure of that ? COUNTESS. Certainly; you are not noble by birth, nor have you wealth to commend you. OLIVER. No ! Only a rent-roll of thirty thousand francs ! COUNTESS. Not bad ; but then you have a family ? OLIVER. Every one has a family; mine is reduced to a mother, who is married a second time ; and*, as at my majority I en- tered a suit against her husband to recover my father's for- tune, we see each other rarely, and I fancy that she has but little affection for me. A widowed mother should never marry; for in giving up the name of the father of her children, she becomes almost a stranger to them. This is the reason, my dear Countess, why I became so early my own master; this is why I have been extravagant and wild; why I am now too wise to marry your niece, although I was once tempted to do so, finding her so charming and at the same time an orphan ! 10 THE DEMI-MONDE. COUNTESS. What ! you were tempted to marry her ? OLIVER. Yes ; I was really attached to her, and had I continued my visits to your house, should probably have ended by ask- ing her hand ; and that would have been the extreme of folly. COUNTESS. Because she is poor ? OLIVER. No ! I am not a man to marry for money ! I had a bet- ter reason 1 COUNTESS. What reason ? OLIVER. We men of the world are not as simple as we may appear ; and when we marry it is with the hope of finding in our new relation what we have elsewhere sought in vain; and the longer we live, the more desirous we become of having for companions women who are ignorant of what is called the world. Those girls who, before marriage, have already ac- quired a reputation for wit or independence, make poor wives. Look at Madame de Santis ! COUNTESS. But Marcella is not at all like Valentina. . OLIVER. Which, however, does not prevent Madame de SnntK separated from an unknown husband, compromised and com- promising as she is, from having, for an intimate friend, Mademoiselle Sancenaux, your niece. I appeal to you; is Madame de Santis a fit companion for a girl of eighteen ? ACT L SCENE I. H COUNTESS. What would you have? Marcella cannot do without amusement; I have no fortune; Madame de Santis has a box at the opera, and a carriage ; Marcella occupies a seat in both ! The poor child must be diverted ; and, after all, she does nothing wrong ! OLIVER. True, she does nothing wrong ; but who can answer for her future conduct, with such an example before her ? COUNTESS. But, my dear Oliver OLIVEK. You are rearing her badly, very badly! Do you know what you should have done ? Three years ago you should have confided your niece to the Marquis de Thonnerins, who, on her leaving school, offered to bring her up with his own daughter. In that case Marcella, at this moment, would have been in good society, and sure of marrying honorably and well. That is now entirely out of the question. COUNTESS. You are harsh, Oliver; I loved her too fondly to part with her. OLIVER. It was selfishness, not love ; you will live to regret it, and she will live to reproach you. COUNTESS. Xot so ; for she can marry within two months, if she wishes ; and she will make a charming wife ; for wives, after all, are just what their husbands choose to make them. OLIVER. Yes, and husbands are what their wives choose to render them ! But to whom do you now propose to marry her ? 12 THE DEMI-MONDE. COUNTESS. To a young man OLIVER. Who loves and is beloved by Mademoiselle de Sanceiuiux ? COUNTESS. No; but that is of little consequence! In marria there be love, habit destroys it ; but when love does not ex- ist, habit calls it into life ! OLIVER. You speak like Larochefoucau^d; but who is this vomit: man? COUNTESS. Monsieur de Latour presented him. OLIVER. Monsieur de Latour! A trumpery piece of dry goods half silk, half cotton! COUNTESS. Hear me; I understand men, and I will answer for him. He is just the husband for Marcella. ]!< is vomit:, hand- some, thirty at most, an officer of rank, without family (ex- cept a young sister, a widow, living retired in tin- Fau- bourg St. Germain), has an income of twenty thousand pounds, is free as air, at liberty to marry to-morrow if he likes, knows no one in Paris except Monsieur de Latour, Marcella, and myself. The opportunity is a happy on- I am sure you will be the first to admit, when you conn- to know him. OLIVER. Oh ! Am I then to know the gentleman ''. Cow To-day: he is .Moii.-k'iir do Latoiir's second. ACT I. SCENE I. 13 OLIVER. Then it was Monsieur de Nanjac who sent me his card yesterday, and promised to call here to-day at three o'clock ? COUNTESS. The same. JSTow be quiet and good-natured, as you can be when you wish; and should Monsieur de Nanjac and yourself become intimate, which is quite likely, and your con- versation ever turn on Marcella, do not put your absurd no- tions into his head ; that's all ! [Servant announces MADAME DE SANTIS.] Enter VALENTINA. COUNTESS. Here at last, my child 1 Where have you been ? VALENTINA. Don't ask me ! I thought I should never have finished. [ To Oliver.'] Are you well ? OLIVER. Perfectly ! VALENTIXA. Just imagine ; as I was about leaving home, who should come in but my dress-maker ; I had to be fitted oh, what a beautiful dress I have ordered for the races to-morrow ! Then I went to select a carriage and horses ; hired a famous English coachman ; called on my landlord do you know I am about to move ? By-the-way, what rent do you pay here ? OLIVEK. Three thousand francs. VALENTINA. But you are out of the world in a perfect desert ; I should die of ennui in such a secluded place. I have found, in Rue 2. 14 THE DEMI-MOSDE dc la Paix, a love of an apartment: second story front; three thousand five hundred francs; the landlord to do the paper hanging. The drawing-room shall be in crimson and gold; my bed-chamber in amber brocatelle; the boudoir in blue satin! The furniture shall be new, and everything sumptuously beautiful ! OLIVER. And how will you pay for all this ? VALENTFXA. How ? Haven't I my marriage portion ? OUVER. It will not go far, at this rate. VALKNTIXA. I have still twenty thousand francs, or thereabouts. I'.y- the-way, ray dear friends, if you should ever require money, let me recommend you to my agent, Monsieur Michel. I could not wait for him to sell my property in Tonraiii' he took the title-deeds, and himself advanced me live thou- sand francs at eight per cent. Quite moderate, wasn't it? OLIVKR. This Michel is small and thin; he wears moustaches ami embroidered shirt-bosoms, and waistcoats with enamelled buttons ? VALKXTIXA. Yes ; he is a thorough gentleman ! OLIVER. That depends upon the point of view. Are you aware that he is a thief? I know him well; he used to lend me money before I became of age. If you are in his hands, yonr live thousand francs will not last long; and when they are gone, what will you do then ? ACT I. SCENE I. 15 VALKXTIXA. Have I not a husband ? He owes me a support ! I am indisputably his wife. If the worst comes to the worst, I can return to him. OLIVER. Fortunate man ! He probably does not dream what hap- piness is in store for him ! But suppose he objects to this neat arrangement ? VALENTIXA. He cannot ! We are not legally separated. I have the right to return to the conjugal roof when I choose. He is obliged to receive me ; and, after all, that is just what he would like ; for he still desperately loves me. OLIVER. I am curious to see the end of this ! VALEXTINA. You shall ! Let me reflect, where else was I ? Nowhere, I believe. I returned by the Champs de Elysees, met all the world, and saw all the men, including little Bonchamp, Count Bryad, and Monsieur Casavaux ! I invited them all to tea to-morrow; will you join us ? OLIVER. Thank you, no ! VALENTINA. Oh yes ; and then I went to my milliner and paid her bill. But I can patronize her no longer, she works only for ac- tresses ! There, I believe I have given you an account of my whole day. [To the Countess.'] To-morrow we are to dine with Monsieur de Calvillot. He has a charming house, and has asked me to invite the ladies. You will come with Marcella ? We shall have a delightful time ! IQ THE DKMI-M()M)i:. OLIVER. Poor woman ! VALENTINA. What's the matter? OLIVER. Nothing ; only I pity you ! VALEXTINA. And why ? OLIVER. Because you are to be pitied. If you do not understand me, I will not waste time in explanations. VALEXTIXA. Oh ! by-the-way, I knew I had something to ask of you. When did you hear from Madame D'Ange ? OLIVER. I do not correspond with her. VALEXTINA. Did she not write to you from Baden ? OLIVER. No. VALEXTINA. Do you say this to me to me, who \_Lau (jli*.~\ OLIVER. To you, who VALENTINA. Why, man, I mailed the letters! Come, I can kcr|. cret, wild as I appear to be. Yes, and charming letters tlu-y were! OLIVER. Well ! I have not heard from her these two weeks ! ACT I. SCENE I. 17 VALEXTINA. No ; not since my departure ! OLIVER. And has she not written to you ? VALENTINA. No ; she never writes. OLIVER. What is the matter with you ? VALENTINA. How ? Where ? COUNTESS. He is trying to plague you. OLIVER. You are very black about the eyes ! VALENTINA. Ah ! you are as bad as the rest ; you fancy I color my eyebrows and eyelashes. Yes, and would you believe it, half the world thinks I paint my cheeks I OLIVER. [Smiling.'] And the other half is sure of it ! VALENTINA. You are a fool ! OLIVER. Come, admit that you use powder ? VALENTIN A. Well, yes ; all women use that. OLIVER. And you rouge ? 2* 18 THE DEMI-MONDE. VALENTIN A. [Indignantly.} Never! OLIVER. [ Scrutinizing her. } Never ? VALF.NTINA. Sometimes of an evening, but very little. OLIVKR. And you never pencil your eyebrows ? YALENTINA. Since it is the fashion OLIVER. Pardon me, not for ladies ! VALEXTINA. What's the harm, after all, if it be becoming? Every one knows me to be a woman of birth and position. OLIVER. Oh ! that is very apparent. [Smiles mockingly.'} COUNTESS. Come, come, have you finished ? We must go. VALEXTINA. If you wish, I will take you to see my new apartment-. COUN With pleasure. VALEXTINA. [To Oliver.'} Will you not come with us, so that I may profit by your taste and artistic suggestions ? OLIVER. I cannot go out; I am expecting a visitor. ACT I. SCENE I. 19 VALENTINA. Whom? OLIVER. One of my friends, Monsieur Hippolyte Richond, who has been travelling abroad for the last ten years. He has been in Paris only a few days. He is the son of a rich merchant in Marseilles. Xow are you satisfied ? Do you know him ? VALENTINA. Xo, I do not. COUNTESS. Is he married ? OLIVER. Yes. YALENTINA. Do you know his wife ? OLIVER. His wife, and also his son ! VALENTINA. He has a son then ? OLIVER. Yes, five or six years of age. But why should this astonish you, since you do not know him ? VALENTINA. "Where does this Monsieur Richond reside ? OLIVER. You are very curious ! Well, he resides at number seven, Rue de Lille. If you are desirous to know him, wait a few moments ; he will soon be here, and I shall be glad to intro- duce you. 20 THE DEMI-MONDE. VALENTINA. Oh ! no, no ! I don't wish to meet him ! OLIVER. Why not ? What's the matter ? VALENTINA. Nothing ! nothing ! good-bye ! [Servant announces MONSIEUR HIPPOLYTE RICHOND.] Enter HIPPOLYTE. OLIVER. [To Valentina.'] Here is a good opportunity; shall I introduce you ? VALENTINA. No ; let me go ! [Lowers her veil, and passing before RICHOND, goes out with the COUNTESS.] OLIVER. You are well ; and your wife ? HIPPOLYTE. All well, thank you. But who is the lady Unit juM lady whom you saw here. This Monsieur de Latour's friend is to call at three ; I may require your aid in the settlement of the difficulty ; if so, where shall I find you ? HlPPOLYTE. At home until six, from six to eight I shall be at dinner at the Cafe Anglais ; will you join me ? OLIVER. Yes ; stop for me on your way there. [Exit HIPPOLYTE. ] [Oliver opens the door at the right as Hippolyte closes the door at the left.] Enter SUSAN. OLIVER. Is it indeed you ? SUSAX. Yes. OLIVER. I fancied you dead ! SUSAN. Dead ? I was never better ! OLIVER. When did you return from Baden ? SUSAN. A week since. OLIVER. A week ! ACT I. SCENE I. 29 SUSAK. Yes. OLIVER. And I have not seen you until now I Has anything oc- curred ? SUSAW. Perhaps ! Are you as sensible and witty as ever ? OLIVER. More than ever ! SUSAK. Since when ? OLIVER. Since you entered. SUSAK. That is almost a compliment. Well, I am rejoiced to learn that you are still yourself. OLIVER. Why? SUSAN. Because, in returning from Baden, one is glad to find a rational person to talk with. OLIVER. Apparently you have had no very great inclination to converse, at least with me; since, although you returned a week ago, I have not seen you before. SUSAN. I have passed that whole week in the country, whence to- day, for the first time, I have returned to Paris. No one knows of my arrival. But you say that you are as rational and as witty as ever ? OLIVER. Why, yes ! What are you trying to arrive at ? 3* 30 THE DEMI-MONDE. 4 SUSAN. Oh, good heavens 1 Only a simple answer to a simple question. Will you marry me ? OLIVER. You? SUSAN. Don't express too much astonishment ; it would hardly be polite. OLIVER. Marry you? What an idea I SUSAN. You will not ? Well, let us talk no more of it. Now, my dear Oliver, it only remains for me to tell you we shall never meet again 1 I am going to leave Paris. OLIVER. Shall you be absent long ? SUSAN. A long time. OLIVER. And you are going SUSAN. Yery far away ! You seem surprised, yet all this is very natural and very simple; people travel every day; and it is for the benefit of these very people that railways and steam- ers have been invented. OLIVER. That's true. But what is to become of me ? SUSAN. Of you ? OLIVER. Yes! SUSAN. You ? You will remain in Paris. ACT I. SCENE I. 31 OLIVER. Ah! SUSAN. Unless you wish to travel also. You are quite free ? OLIVER. With you ? SUSAN. Oh, no ! OLIVER. Then all is at an end between us ? SUSAN. All what? OLIVER. Then we no longer love each other ? SUSAX. Did we ever love each other ? OLIVER. I thought so ! SUSAN. And I have done my best to believe so. Yes, I have passed my life in striving to love, but until now I have found it impossible. You must know that I went to Baden more to reflect as a sensible woman should, than to amuse myself as an idle one does. Absence tests one's true feelings. I fancied that perhaps you were, after all, dearer to me than I had imagined. I left Paris to see if I could exist without you OLIVER. Well! well! SUSAN. Well, I did manage to exist ; you did not follow me ! Your letters were not very interesting ; to make a long story short, in a fortnight you became an object of perfect indiffer- ence to me ! THE DEMI-MONDE. OLIVER. You possess one virtue, certainly : frankness ! SUSAN. I returned a week ago, and it was my first intention to avoid you, and depend upon chance to throw us together for an explanation ; then I reflected that we both possessed good sense, and it was better, instead of avoiding a meeting, to come at once to the point, so here I am ! Let us convert our false love into true friendship. [Oliver laughs.'] Why do you laugh ? OLIVER. Because I had written the same thing, in almost the same words, only an hour ago 1 SUSAN. To a woman? OLIVER. Yes. SUSAN. To the beautiful Charlotte de Lornan ? OLIVER. I know no such person SUSAN. One moment ! During the last few weeks of my sojourn in Paris, you were not as constantly at my side as before. I soon divined that your reasons or pretexts for absenting your- self concealed some mystery. I was convinced that a wo- man was concerned in it. One day, when you left me hur- riedly, as you said "to join a party of your male friends," I followed you ; saw you enter a certain house ; learned from the porter, to whom I gave twenty francs, that Madame de Lornan resided there, and that you visited her daily. It was then that I discovered I did not love you, for although I did my utmost toward feeling jealous, I did not become so in the least ! ACT I. SCENE I. 3 OLIVER. How does it happen that you never before mentioned Ma- dame de Lornan ? SUSAN. Had I mentioned her, my pride would have led me to force you to elect between us, and as she was a novelty, I should have been sacrificed ! and so my self-love would have suf- fered. Oh, I was too wise for that ! OLIVER. You are right about my visits; but I solemnly assure you, Madame de Lornan never has been, and never can be, more than my friend. SUSAN. That is no longer my business. You are free to love whom you please. All I ask is your friendship. OLIVER. How can that benefit you, since you are about to leave Paris ? But why do you go ? SUSAN. I have my reasons. OLIVER, "Will you not confide them to me ? SUSAK. To ask for confidence in exchange for friendship ; that is not giving, it is selling friendship. OLIVER. You are logic personified ! But until your departure SUSAN. I shall remain in the country ! I know that country life is tedious and insipid to you, consequently I will not invite you to accompany me. * 34 THE DEMI-MONDE. OLIVER. Well, well, this is only a polite manner of bidding me good- bye. My part, as your friend, will not be a difficult one to play. SUSAN. More so, perhaps, than you imagine ; for by friendship I do not mean that empty and conventional term used ly lovers in separating, and which is neither more nor less than the last farewell of mutual indifference. No ; what I desire is an earnest, sincere friendship, full of devotion, protection, aye, if need be, of discretion! Perhaps the opportunity will never be afforded to you more than once to prove the sin- cerity of this friendship ; but that will be all-sufficient. Do you promise ? OLIVER. I do. Enter SERVANT. [Handing a card.~\ Will Monsieur receive Monsieur de Nanjac ? OLIVER. I will be with him presently. [Exit Servant.'] SUSAN. Let me see that card ! OLIVER. Here it is. SUSAN. Then Monsieur de Nanjac is a friend of yours ? OLIVER. No ; I never saw him. He is the second of Monsieur de Latour, who has a disagreement with, one of my friends. SUSAN. How strange ! how strange ! ACT L SCENE I. 35 OLIVER. What is strange ? SUSAN. How can I get out without being seen ? OLIVER. . You are agitated ! Do you then know this Monsieur de Nanjac ? SUSAN. He was introduced to me at Baden. I have spoken with him once or twice. OLIVER. Ah ! light begins to dawn upon me. Is this Monsieur de Nanjac SUSAN. You are dreaming ! OLIVER. Aha! SUSAN. Well, since you seem desirous that Monsieur de Nanjac should see me here, let him enter ! OLIVER. Oh, by no means ! SUSAN. I insist ; it is better after all ! OLIVER. I am in the dark again. [Servant announces MONSIEUR RAYMOND DE NANJAC.] Enter RAYMOND. OLIVER. [Adi-anting.] Pardon me, sir, for having kept you waiting. RAYMOND. [Bows, then looks at SUSAN ivith astonishment and emotion.] 36 THE DEMI-MONDE. SCSAN. ]5o you not recognize me, Monsieur de Nanjac ? RAYMOND. I fancied it was you, Madam, but was not sure. SUSAN. When did you return from Baden ? RAYMOND. Two days since; I had intended to have made you my first visit this day, but have been prevented )>y important business. SCSAN. I shall be most happy to see you, sir, whenever you feel disposed to call on me. Adieu, my dear Oliver ; don't forget your promise. [Bows, ande.n'L] OLIVER. I am at your service, sir ! [Motions to Raymond to be RAYMOND. [Sitting.'] This matter is very simple, sir: Monsieur de Latour, one of my friends OLIVER. Pardon me, sir; is Monsieur de Latour a friend of yours ? RAYMOND. He is ; why this question ? OLIVER. Because, sometimes, you are a military man, sir ? RAYMOND. I am, and have been these ten years. OLIVER. You military men, I believe, consider yourselves bound ACT I. SCENE I. 37 never to refuse becoming the seconds, even of men whom you scarcely know ? RAYMOND. True, sir, we rarely refuse this service ; but I am ac- quainted with Monsieur de Latour ; I take him by the hand and call him friend. Does he not merit this title ? Is that what you mean to convey ? OLIVER. By no means, sir ^ go on ! RAYMOND. "Well, Monsieur de Latour passed night before last at the Countess de Vernie'res ; I was with him ; he played lansque- net with a Monsieur George de Maucroix OLIVER. One of my friends. RAYMOND. All proceeded pleasantly enough, when my friend, who had been a heavy loser during the evening, being out of money, offered his note as a stake, whereupon M. de Mau- croix threw up his cards. M. de Latour considered his honor and credit impeached by such a proceeding, and de- manded an explanation from M. de Maucroix, who replied that a lady's drawing-room was not the proper place for the settlement of a difficulty. He gave your name and address, and M. de Latour desired me to call on you and demand your friend's meaning. OLIVER. Everything may easily be explained, and I fancy all that will result from this difference is that I shall have had the pleasure of making your acquaintance. George had no desire to insult M. de Latour; he passed, as every player of the game has the right to do, when he does not consider his cards strong enough to risk them against his adversary's. 4 38 THE DEMI-MONDE. RAYMOND. M. de Maucroix, I am convinced, would have played his cards, had M. de Latour's money been upon the table. OLIVER. We have no right to indulge in suppositions, sir ; we can only look at the facts. I have just had the honor of repeat- ing to you what M. de Maucroix in all sincerity told me ; namely, that he did then only what he had frequently done before, what every one in fact does ; and had I been in M. de Latour's place, I should never have noticed the incident. RAYMOND. Sir, among men of the world, this may be overlook CM 1 ; but we military men OLIVER. Pardon me, sir ; but I am not aware that M. de Latour is a military man ? RAYMOND. But I am one 1 OLIVER. Allow me to remind you, sir, that this affair is not betwn-n yourself and me, but between Messrs. Latour and Maucroi.x ; who are neither of them military men. RAYMOND. From the moment M. de Latour chose me to repre.-rnt him, I have treated the matter as if it were a personal affair. OLIVER. Permit me, then, to tell you, sir, that you err in so doing ; seconds should, I admit, be as jealous of their principal's honor as of their own ; but they should permit a spirit of conciliation, or at least of impartiality, to pervade their pro- ceedings. Believe me, sir, there are not two kinds of honor, one for the uniform you wear, the other for a civilian's dress; ACT I. SCENE I. 39 the heart is the same, whether it beats beneath the one or the other ! But it seems to me that human life is of suffi- cient consequence to be seriously discussed, and that we, as seconds, should only permit our friends to fire at each other in cold blood when there is no possible chance of otherwise settling a difficulty. If you wish, sir, we will appoint an- other meeting, for, to speak frankly, you appear out of humor to-day, which may seriously affect the interests of our principals. In fact, though I have now, for the first time, the honor of meeting you, we have been talking more like two adversaries having need of seconds, than seconds charged with the conciliation of two adversaries. EAYMOND. You are right, sir ; it was a personal feeling which made me speak as I have ! Pardon me, and as a proof of my regret I will open my heart to you. OLIVER. I pray you, speak ! EAYMOND. I will deal frankly with you, and may I ask equal frank- ness at your hands ? [Oliver bows.~\ We are both men of position, of nearly the same age, belonging to the same grade of society, and certainly, had I not been living for the last ten years, like a bear, in Africa, we should long since have been friends warm, bosom-friends ; do you not think so ? OLIVER. I begin, indeed, to believe so. KAYMOXD. I should have spoken to you at first, as I am now speak- ing, instead of letting my ill-humor get the better of me, and thus have drawn upon myself the little lecture you have ad- ministered with so much tact. Had I come in contact with 40 THE DEMI-MONDE. a man of my own disposition, instead of a man of sense, like yourself, we would, by this time, have been ready to cut one another's throats. Will you permit me to ask you a few questions, as if I were a friend of ten years' standing, upon my solemn assurance that your replies shall die with me ? OLIVER. Certainly. RAYMOND. Thanks, thanks ; this conversation will decide my destiny ! OLIVER. I am listening ! RAYMOND. What is the name of the lady I met here ? OLIVER. The Baronness D'Ange. RAYMOND. A lady of position ? OLIVER. Yes. RAYMOND. A widow? OLIVER. Yes, a widow. RAYMOND. What relationship tell me, I conjure you, what relation- ship exists between her and yourself? OLIVER. That of friendship. RAYMOND. You are only her friend ? OLIVER. I am only her friend ! RAYMOND. Thanks, sir; but permit me to make still another inquiry. ACT I. SCENE I. 41 Why was the Baronness D'Ange at your house ? The simple title of friend OLIVER. Does not authorize a lady of position to call upon a gentle- man ! Why not ? And to prove to you that Madame D'Ange had no evil motive, and consequently no desire for concealment, she went out by this door after exchanging a few words with you, instead of by that, by which she might have escaped unseen 1 RAYMOND. True, true ! I needed this explanation. But not to be behind you in frankness ! I am an officer from Africa, where I was seriously wounded some months ago, and have since been absent on leave. A fortnight since, I arrived at Ba- den, and was introduced to Madame D'Ange, who made a wonderful impression upon me. I followed her io Paris, and am madly in love with her, but she has given me no en- couragement. She is young and beautiful ; I have tortured myself with the thought that she may love another. You will now comprehend my astonishment, my emotion, in sud- denly finding myself face to face with her in your house ; but my suspicions, my natural fears, my ill-humor all are dissi- pated by your reasonable language, and by the explanations you have so frankly and courteously given. I hope, sir, that we may often meet ; and let me beg that from this moment you will number me among your friends, and as such com- mand me. As to the difficulty which brought us together, I presume we may consider that it is arranged ? OLIVER. Undoubtedly. RAYMOND. We will draw up a little memorandum of our conversa- tion, submit it to our friends, and all will be over. 4* 42 THE DEMI-JHONDE. OLIVER. It is well. To-morrow I will have the honor of calling upon you at the same hour, if it suits you ; I have your ad- dress upon your card, I believe. RAYMOND. Until to-morrow. [ They shake hands."] Enter HIPPOLYTE. HIPPOLYTE. [Opening the door.] May I come in ? [RAYMOND and HIPPOLYTE bow; RAYMOND exit] OLIVER. Poor fellow I HIPPOLYTE. What has happened ? OLIVER. A thousand things, without counting those which I see in perspective. HIPPOLYTE. And the duel ? OLIVER. Amicably arranged. HIPPOLYTE. So much the better ! And your fair friend from the wa- tering-place ? OLIVER. My calculations are all unsettled in that quarter. HIPPOLYTE. Indeed ! Well, I too have something to relate. OLIVER. What, pray ? HIPPOLYTE. I have just received an invitation couched in these terms : "Madame de Vernie'res solicits the honor of Monsieur Hip- ACT I. SCENE I. 43 polyte Richond's company on Wednesday evening next." There follows the address, and at the bottom of the page the words, "With Madame de Santis's compliments." Ma- dame de Santis doubtless wishes to make some inquiries con- cerning her husband. OLIVER. What answer have you sent ? HIPPOLTTE. As yet none. But I shall go. OLIVER. I will accompany you. HIPPOLYTE. Are you also invited ? OLIVER. One is always invited there ; besides, there is a little in- trigue in progress, on which I wish to keep an eye. But come, are you not hungry ? HIPPOLYTE. Yes. OLIVER. Then let us go to dinner. END OF FIRST ACT. ACT SECOND. Drawing-Room at Madame de Vernieres. COUNTESS AND SERVANT. COUNTESS, [To Servant.] Let the candles be lighted in the boudoir, and in my cham- ber. The Baronness does not come. SERVANT, [About to go out, announces] The Baronness D'Ange. [Exit.] SUSAN. I have not come as early as I could have wished, my dear Countess, but you know one cannot be punctual to a moment when residing in the country. I dressed at my house in Paris, but everything is in disorder, after an absence of three months ; however, to-morrow all will be right again. COUNTESS. You received my note ? Tell me, you were not offended by the boldness of my request ? SUSAN. There should be no ceremony among friends. Here is the amount you desired. [Handing money.] If that be not sufficient COUNTESS. Thank you, a thousand times ; that is all I require : I needed it this very day. SUSAN. Then why did yon not ask me for it yesterday ? 44 ACT II. SCENE I. 45 COUNTESS. Until the last moment, I hoped to procure it from the agent of Madame de Santis, who had promised it to me, and it was only at mid-day that he informed me he could not give it. Yalentina herself is much pressed ; so I could not apply to her. Believe me, I should not have troubled you, but there is a writ out against me, and I was anxious to avoid the scandal of having my furniture seized to-morrow. SUSAN. You had better, then, arrange matters this evening. COUNTESS. I shall send my maid to settle the claim immediately. SUSAN. One moment ; never admit domestics to your confidence. COUNTESS. But I dread to leave the affair until to-morrow ; my credit- ors may make a seizure in the morning. SUSAN. Then why not go yourself and pay the amount ? COUNTESS. But my guests ? SUSAN. I will do the honors until your return. You will not be absent long ! Whom do you expect ? COUNTESS. Yalentina, a Monsieur Richond, who is a friend of her husband, and whom she desired me to invite, and Monsieur de Xanjac ah, if I could only arrange his marriage with my niece ! I shall depend upon you to assist me in that, for it would save me ! Then there is Marcella, yourself, the Marquis de Thonnerins, and, possibly, since their difficulty is settled, Messrs. Maucroix and Latour may also come. 46 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSAN. And Monsieur de Jalin, you have not invited him ? COUNTESS. Oh, he never comes 1 SUSAN. Did the Marquis de Thonnerins promise to be here ? COUNTESS. Of course : since he sent me no excuse. SUSAN. Well, now attend to your business; I will await your re- turn. COUNTESS. I shall not be gone twenty minutes. Can you amuse yourself alone ? for I would like to have Marcella accom- pany me. SUSAN. Take her, by all means. [Servant announces MONSIEUR DE THONNERINS.] SUSAN-. I will entertain the Marquis until your return. COUNTESS. Do ; I'll go immediately. I will not even stop to speak with him, as he might detain me. Endeavor to interest him in my plan of marrying Marcella to Monsieur de Nanjac. \_Exit.~\ Enter MARQUIS. SUSAN. As the Countess had some business to attend t<>, Aw charged me to make you welcome. She will return shortly. MARQUIS. Then I shall probably not have the pleasure of seeing her. ACT II. SCENE I. '47 SUSAN. J3USAN. Shall you not pass the evening with us ? MARQUIS. No, my time is not my own. My daughter has returned from the country, and I promised to accompany her to her aunt's this evening. I should not have come here, but for your note. SUSAN. I wished to speak with you, and did not like putting you to the trouble of going into the country to see me. Is Ma- demoiselle de Thonnerins well ? MARQUIS. She is. SUSAN. "Will you never permit me to see her ? I should really like to do so, even at a distance, since you will not make us ac- quainted. MARQUIS. You have made this request before, my dear Susan, and I have given you my reason for declining ; so why revert to the subject again ? You wrote that you had something to say to me ; speak, I am all attention. SUSAN. You once declared that I should ever find you ready to serve me ? MARQUIS. I repeat it. SUSAN. But in so frigid a tone to-day, that I fear it would scarcely be prudent to rely upon your promise. MARQUIS. I believe I have kept every promise that I ever made to you. I am speaking to you now in a manner befitting my age, for the moment has arrived when I can no longer for- 48 THE DEMI-MONDE. get that I am neither twenty nor even forty years old. It is only under pain of ridicule that I can assume to be other than what I really am an old man, who would be glad to be of service to one whom he has, no doubt, often wearied and annoyed, but who has always had the generosity not to make him feel it. SUSAN. Then I will reply to you in the same spirit. To you, Mar- quis, I owe everything ! You may be able, as benefactor, to forget this; but as the beneficiary, I never can. You have entertained for me, perhaps, only a passing fancy, though I once thought you honored me with something more ! MARQUIS. Ah, Susan ! SUSAN. I was nothing nobody; you gave me position ! My sta- tion in the world would indeed be a sorry one for a woman born to the higher walks of life; but for one born at the very foot of the social ladder, it was a lofty position to whi<-h you raised me ! You will readily understand that having once attained, through you, that eminence which I had never even dared to contemplate or hope for, there grew from it, as a natural consequence, ambition. From the point where I now stand, I must either descend lower than ever before, or I must ascend to the highest round. Marriage alone can give me the position I desire. MARQUIS. Marriage ! SUSAN. Yes! MARQUIS. You are indeed ambitious ! SUSAN. Do not discourage me ! I have often said to myself pre- ACT II. SCENE I. 49 cisely what you would now tell me, that my ambition is hope- less ; for where could I find a man confiding enough to trust me, noble enough to give me position, brave enough to de- fend me, sufficiently attached to consecrate to me his life, sufficiently young, distinguished, and handsome to believe himself loved and for me to love him ? MARQUIS. And have you found the man sufficiently confiding, noble, attached ? SUSAN: Yes! MARQUIS. And young enough for him to believe himself loved ? SUSAN. Young enough for me to love him. MARQUIS. And you do love him ? SUSAN. Yes ! What would you have ? We are not perfect ! MARQUIS. And he will marry you? SUSAN. I have but to say the word, and he will lay his name and his fortune at my feet. MARQUIS. Then why have you not said it ? SUSAN. Because I wished first to consult you. MARQUIS. Well ! There is this to fear, that this man, so seductive in manner and appearance, is about to marry you on specula- 5 50 THE DEMI-MONDE. tion ; that, ignorant of your past history, and believing you rich, he is ready to sell his name, as his last resource. This often happens ! SUSAN. But he has not been in France for these ten years ; he knows nothing of my life; if he knew aught against my honor, he would leave me on the instant. He has an income of twenty or twenty-five thousand pounds, and has, therefore, no need to sell himself. When I tell you his name MARQUIS. I will not I ought not to know it. The interest which I feel in you, induces me to hope that your wishes may be real- ized ; but I cannot be made party to this scheme, however honorable your motives may be ; for if, by chance, you should mention a name that I recognize, you would place me under the disagreeable necessity of either tacitly deceiving an hon- orable man, or of betraying you. But what are your plans ? SUSAN. I have resolved to leave here immediately : it is the most prudent course ; but I must be entirely mistress of myself, and able to quit France, Europe itself perhaps, never to re- turn. In the eyes of my husband, this marriage must have no interested motive. I must have a fortune nearly equal to his own, available on the instant : you are my guardian, you alone know what my fortune really is. MARQUIS. You have enjoyed, I believe, an income of fifteen thou- sand francs. SUSAN. Yes. MARQUIS. This, at five per cent, represents a capital of three hun- dred thousand francs. ACT II. SCENE I. 51 SUSAN. And this capital ? MARQUIS. You hare but to give directions to my notary, since he has charge of your finances, and he will place the necessary deeds in your possession. SUSAN. My dear sir, you have acted in a princely manner ; I shall be indebted to you, even for the happiness which I may de- rive from another. MARQUIS. A sensible woman is never indebted to any one. SUSAN. That is an indirect reproach ! MARQUIS . It is a final settling of accounts. [Kisses her hand."] Pray make my excuses to the Countess. [Exit.'] [Servant announces MONSIEUR RAYMOND DE NAN j AC.] Enter RAYMOND. RAYMOND. I have just left your house, Madame. I had hoped to have the pleasure of escorting you here. SUSAN. I received a note from the Countess de Yernieres, begging me to come early, as she had a favor to ask. RAYMOND. Then you were conversing with the Countess when I en- tered? SUSAW. No ; with the Marquis de Thonnerins. RAYMOND. Has he not a sister? 52 THE DEMI-MONDE. SCSAN. He has. The Duchess of Haubeney. RAYMOND. Herself and my sister are very intimate friends, and since my arrival the latter has been most anxious to make us ac- quainted ; but why should I know the Duchess's family ? SUSAN. The Marquis has a charming daughter. RAYMOND. What is that to me ? SCSAN. She will have a fortune of four or five millions. RAYMOND. That matters little, since I could never wish to marry her. SCSAN. Why not ? RAYMOND. How could I wish to marry Mademoiselle Thonnerins, or any one, except yourself. SCSAN. What folly ! you scarcely know me. RAYMOND. I know you well enough to love you. From the first mo- ment we met, my heart became yours ; why, I know not ; love cannot bear the torch of reason. What did I tell you yesterday ? SCSAN. Yesterday you talked like a madman ! You told me you could no longer remain in the army, and begged me to be- come your wife. You have had a whole night to reflect upon your folly ; for, after consideration, you must be willing to ac- knowledge it to be nothing less. ACT II. SCENE I. 53 RAYMOND. On the contrary. I have to-day resigned my commission. SCSAN. Are you mad ! You should not, oh, you should not have done this ! Within a year, nay, even in a month, you may regret the sacrifices you are making for me ! Oh, Raymond, hear me ! I speak to you as a true and rational friend. Re- flect ; I am older than you are ; I am twenty-eight, and a woman of that age is older than a man of thirty. I must have had more experiences than you RAYMOND. Susan, this is trifling ! When ten years of age, I lost an idolized mother, and however young the child, the day of a mother's death adds years, long years, to his life. Think you that camp experience, weary days passed in the wilderness, or in solitude on the sea-shore, braving death every hour, the remembrance of dear friends stricken in battle at my side think you these have not matured my mind, and added years (I had almost said cycles) to my existence ? Look, I am already gray ! I am already old ! Love me, Susan, love me ! SUSAN. If I were to do so, you would continue to doubt me as on the day we met at M. de Jalin's, where I went only to hear of you. I should be made miserable by your constant sus- picion and jealousy. RAYMOND. No ! no ! What I said to Oliver was a consequence of my devotion. Where is the man of sincere attachments who could allow the woman he loved to be suspected, even in his own imagination ? Esteem and love go hand in hand. SUSAN. True, true ! And I can well comprehend this jealousy 5* 54 THE DEMI-MONDE. with which I have reproached you. How happy I am in the thought that you have never before loved ! Do you know, were I your wife, I should wish to conceal my love and happiness from all eyes : I should wish to separate my- self from the world and forget it, since it is full of younger and more beautiful women than myself, whom, some day, you might love. Promise me that we shall live in eternal seclu- sion? RAYMOND. Oh, Susan, thus do I love, and thus would I be beloved by you I Yes, we shall be all the world to each other ! We will leave here to-morrow, if you wish, never to return ! SUSAN. But, your sister ! Great heavens ! what will she say ? RAYMOND. She will say, if you love this woman and are beloved by her, if she be worthy of you, marry her and be happy ! SUSAN. But, my friend, she does not know me; she thinks me young and beautiful ; she imagines me surrounded by rela- tives who will become her friends ; she does not know that I am alone in the world, and that our marriage will separate you from her. When she ascertains that we are to leave her, she will counsel you as I did. You love her, and you will end by following her advice. RAYMOND. She will accompany us. She is not attached to Paris, and would be quite as happy elsewhere. SUSAN. Make us acquainted first. I wish to please her, to gain her affection and esteem ; I desire that she shall love me as ACT II. SCENE I. 55 a sister, and wish for our marriage, instead of simply ac- ceding to it. RAYMOND. Dearest, as you wish ! SUSAN. What friends have you to consult ? RAYMOND. None! SUSAN. Not Monsieur de Jalin ? RAYMOND. Him alone ! You will admit that he has a noble heart, and merits the confidence of a friend. SUSAN. Certainly ! But a woman's reputation is so easily sullied ! If you speak publicly of our marriage, and any unforseen event should occur to prevent its consummation, in what a false, ridiculous position I should be placed! If ever I should cause you sorrow, go and confide it to Oliver; but until then never speak of our attachment, not even to him. In love, the greater the secresy the greater the happiness. RAYMOND. You are right, always right ! But though Oliver has a claim on my confidence, although we have scarcely been apart for an hour during the last four days, still he has not even mentioned your name ! However, I will say nothing to him nor to my sister. Are you satisfied ? SUSAN. I am! RAYMOND. How dearly do I love you ! SUSAN. Hark ! Some one comes. Enter SERVANT. 56 THE DEMI-MONDE. SERVANT. Messrs. Oliver de Jalin and Hippolyte Richond. SUSAN. Oliver ! What does he here ? Enter HIPPOLYTE and OLIVER. OLIVER. How ? The Countess not at home ? Is this the way she receives her friends ? SCSAN. The Countess will return presently ; business of import- ance demands her attention. OLIVER. "Well, at least she could not have chosen a more charming representative ; and since you are doing the honors, Baron- ness, allow me to present my friend, M. Hippolyte Richond. HIPPOLYTE. [Bows.] Madame ! SCSAN. [Bows.'] Sir! OLIVER. And you, my dear Raymond, are you well ? RAYMOND. Never better ! SUSAN. [ To Oliver and Raymond.] What a pleasure to see such intimacy between persons who have known each other but a week! OLIVER. There is, my dear Baronness, a mysterious tie between honest men, which unites them, even before they know each other, and which, on the very day of their meeting, converts them into friends. My dear Raymond, allow me to present to you one of my best friends, since I have two now, Mon- ACT II SCENE I. 57 sieur Hippolyte Richond, who has travelled much in Africa; so you will find abundant topics for conversation. RAYMOND. Ah I sir, then you too have visited that fine, though much abused, country I [ They converse apart. ] OLIVER. [ To SUSAN.] I thought you were in the country ? SUSAN. I returned from there this evening. OLIVER. What is there new ? SUSAN. Absolutely nothing. OLIVER. Ah ! Then I can give you some news ! SUSAN. Pray, what ? OLIVER. Monsieur de Nanjac loves you. SUSAN. You are jesting ! OLIVER. Did he not himself tell you so ? SUSAN. No! OLIVER. That is strange ; he confessed it to me ! So prepare your- self for a declaration. SUSAN. You did well to warn me. OLIVER. Why? 8 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSAN. Because I shall soon find means to make him understand that he is wasting his time. OLIVER. Then you do not lore Monsieur de Nanjac ? SUSAN. I lore him ? What an idea ! OLIVER. Just a little ? SUSAN. Not at all. OLIVER. Then I have grossly deceived myself 1 But I am truly rejoiced that you do not care for him. SUSAN. Wherefore ? OLIVER. I will tell you when we are alone. SUSAN. You had better hasten to inform me, for you know I am going away. OLIVER. You are not gone yet, nor do I intend you shall go. SUSAN. Take care ! I may claim Madame de Lornan's protection. OLIVER. Madame de Lornan no longer even thinks of me. I have called three times, and each time have been refused admission to her house. SUSAN. Do you wish me* to effect a reconciliation? ACT IL SCENE I. 59 OLIVER. You? SUSAN. Yes! OLIVER. Do you think she would be more likely to admit you to her presence than myself ? SUSAN. Perhaps ! I always manage to be received when I wish I At your service. [She bows and moves away.] OLIVER [aside.] Was that intended as a menace ? We shall see ! we shall see! Enter COUNTESS AND MARCELLA. COUNTESS. [As she enters.] I owe you a thousand apologies, gen- tlemen. SUSAN. [Aside to Countess.] Well ? Well ? COUNTESS. All is arranged, thank heaven ! MARCELLA. [ To Susan. ] Are you well, Madame ? SUSAN. Quite ; and how are you, my dear child ? MARCELLA. Thank you, I have the misfortune of always being well. It is so tiresome ! For when a woman is always in good health, no one pays her the least attention ! COUNTESS. [To HIPPOLYTE, ivhom OLIVER has meantime presented."] You are very kind to have accepted my rather informal 60 THE DEMI-MONDE. invitation. Madame de Santis desired to speak with you, since you are her husband's friend ; and as her house is not yet in order, she did me the honor of inviting you here. I feel deep interest in Valentina, and sincerely hope her wishes may be realized. HIPPOLTTE. [Bows."] MARCELLA. Has the Marquis de Thonnerins not yet come ? SUSAN. He begged me to make his excuses. He was able to remain for only a few moments, as his sister receives to-night. MARCELLA. How much I wished to see him ! COUNTESS. A propos, Monsieur de Nanjac, did you not promise to bring your sister here ? RAYMOND. Yes, Madame ; but she is still in mourning, and is further- more quite indisposed. As soon as she recovers, I shall have the honor of making you acquainted. OLITKR. [Aside to Raymond.'] Are you mad ? RAYMOND. Why ? What ? MARCELLA. Monsieur de Nanjac ! OLIVER. [Aside to Raymond."} I will explain my meaning by- and-bye. RAYMOND. [2b Marcella.~\ Mademoiselle 1 MARCELLA. Monsieur Oliver, lend me M. de Nanjac for a moment ; I ACT II. SCENE I. 61 will return him to you. [ To Raymond.'] I have a word to say to you ; but first take this pin out of my bonnet. RAYMOND. This lady has apparently great wit and fine spirits. OLIVER. Lady ? She is a young girl ! RAYMOND. One would not think so ; she talks like a woman. OLIVER. Say, rather, like a man 1 MARCELLA. Do you know, Monsieur de Nanjac, that there is a con- spiracy against you ? RAYMOND. Iteally, Mademoiselle ? MARCELLA. Yes ; they wish you to marry me 1 RAYMOND. But MARCELLA. One moment. You are as little inclined to make me your wife as I am to become such. You love one who is a thou- sand times my superior ! I saw it all ; but be not alarmed, I will never speak of it ! Now that you have nothing to fear, give me your arm and come with me. My aunt will think us courting, and that will please her, dear soul ! But, heavens ! what are you about ? I declare you have been crush- ing my bonnet all this time, and it is the only one I have ! and I believe is not yet paid for ! {Exit with RAYMOND.] COUNTESS. [Looking after them. To Susan.] What did I tell you ? You see that all is going on as I desired ? 6 62 THE DEMI-MONDE. HIPPOLYTE. Monsieur de Nanjac seems to be a man of heart. OLIVER. He is, indeed ! I must try and save him, at the risk of repenting my trouble. SERVANT. [Announces."] Madame de Santis. OLIVER. Now for your meeting ! Enter VALENTINA. COUNTESS. You are late, my dear ! VALENTINA. [Aside to Countess."] I could not get rid of M. de La- tour earlier; he has detained me for the last hour. Is Monsieur Richond here ? COUNTESS. He is yonder, talking with Oliver. VALENTINA. How ray heart beats ! SUSAN. Courage ! OLIVER. [Approaching Valentina.~] How are you ? VALENTINA. Well, thank you ! OLIVER. How plainly you are dressed ! Do you know it is very becoming ? I will present you to my friend Richond : having invited him here, you must doubtless be anxious to know him. VALENTINA. Yes ; introduce us. OLIVER. [Presents Hippolyte.'] Monsieur Hippolyte Richond; Madame de Santis ! ACT II. SCENE I. 63 HlPPOLYTE. [.Bows.] Madame ! VALENTTNA. [Bowing.^ Sir, I have long cbsired to meet you. HlPPOLYTE. You are very kind, Madame ! I have been but little in France during the past ten years ! YALENTINA. [After assuring herself that no one is within hearing.] Well, Hippolyte, what do you intend doing with me ? HlPPOLYTE. With you, Madame ? VALENTINA. Yes. HlPPOLYTE. I intend having nothing to do with you. YALENTINA. My position has become unbearable. HlPPOLYTE. Why? YALENTINA. Can you ask ! It is ten years since we have met ; yet I am your wife ! HlPPOLYTE. Legally, yes 1 YALENTINA. You used to love me. HlPPOLYTE. Fondly ! Your conduct, however, has almost killed me ! YALENTINA. And, now ? HIPPOLYTE. Now, I regard you with perfect indifference. 64 THE DEMI-MONDE. VALENTINA. You came here, knowing that you were to meet me. If you were indifferent, you would not have done so ! HIPPOLYTE. You are mistaken. I knew I had nothing to fear in meet- ing you. VALEXTIX A. Then you will never pardon me ? HIPPOLYTE. Never ! VALENTINA. You will never again open your doors to me ? HIPPOLYTE. If I were so disposed, I could not ! VALENTINA. Then what I have heard is true ? HIPPOLYTK. What have you heard ? VALENTINA. That others occupy my place in your house ! HIPPOLYTE. Yes ; others whom I love fill the place that you have for- feited ! VALENTINA. And I can at any moment expel them 1 HIPPOLYTE. If any one has the right to threaten, bear in mind it is myself. After three years of grief, solitude, and despair, during which, had one word or one tear of repentance come from your heart, I could have pardoned you, for I still loved you after three years of misery, I acquired the right to live as I pleased ! With another I have found the happiness de- ACT II. SCENE I. (35 nied to me with you ! See to what a strange position an honorable man may become reduced through the crimes of a wife ! I am acquainted with every act of yours since our separation ! It is only lately that the idea of reuniting your- self to me has entered your head ; only after all your means have been squandered through an idle and dissolute course of life ; after having exhausted every other resource, you have said to yourself, "Now I will see if my husband will receive me !" No, Madame ! Not a word you have uttered has emanated from your heart ! All communication between us is at an end. You are dead to me forever ! YALENTINA. Then you care not what becomes of me ? HlPPOLYTE. Do whatever you please. I do not love you, so you can- not render me miserable; and being an honest man, you cannot cover me with ridicule ! VALENTINA. I have learned all I wished to know. Remember, what- ever proceeding I may make against you, that it is you your- self who have driven me to take it. HlPPOLYTE. [Going. ~\ Then farewell forever I for we shall never meet again ! Enter MARCELLA and RAYMOND. MARCELLA. [ To Hippolyte.'} Are you going so soon ? HlPPOLYTE. Yes, Mademoiselle. [To Valentino,.] Adieu, Madame. YALENTINA. [Bowing. ~\ Monsieur. 6* 66 THE DEMI-MONDE. COUNTESS. You are leaving us early, Monsieur Richond ; that is not kind! HIPPOLYTE. I promised to return home soon, Madame. COUNTESS. Why did you not bring Madame Richond ? HIPPOLTTE. Madame de Santis did not extend an invitation to her. COUNTESS. I receive every Wednesday ; whenever Madame Richond and yourself will honor me with your company to tea, I shall Jbe charmed to receive you both. HIPPOLYTE. [Bows to Oliver."] I will see you to-morrow ; I have much to tell you. [Exit.'} MARCELLA. There is no counting on these married men ! RAYMOND. [ To Oliver, aside."} What were you about to say to me a moment ago ? OLIVER. Ah, yes ! You no longer mention Madame D'Ange. What has become of your grand attachment for her ? RAYMOND. I have given her up entirely. OLIVER. Already ? RAYMOND. Yes ; I found I was only wasting time. OLIVER. Do you know you are becoming a thorough Parisian? ACT II. SCENE I. 67 You are getting to be sensible and reasonable. I congratu- late you ! And this encourages me to tender you a piece of advice. EAYMOND. What is it ? OLIVER. You promised the Countess, I believe, to bring your sister here? EATMOND. I did. OLIVER. Well ! do not bring her. EAYMOND. Why ? Is the Countess's house disreputable ? OLIVER. I did not say so. No house presents a more respectable appearance. If you could see beneath the surface, however, you would be somewhat astonished. Listen ! [Raising his voice.'} Shall we not see Monsieur de Latour this evening ? COUNTESS. He sent me a regret: "a business engagement" MARCELLA. Had the inventor of that phrase only taken out a patent, what a fortune he would have made ! OLIVER. For once, perhaps, in all his life, Monsieur de Latour may have told the truth. MARCELLA. What has he done, that you should speak ill of him ? He never abuses you ! OLIVER. Because he has no reason to do so. VALENTINA. I am sure he is a very agreeable, a well-educated and 68 THE DEMI-MONDE. polished gentleman, which is more than can be said of every one! OLIVER. How princely his mode of spending his money I VALENTINA. That is also true ! OLIVER. It is not, however, to be wondered at, for he gambles every night, and always wins 1 COUNTESS. Do you mean to insinuate that he cheats ? OLIVER. No ! I only say his luck at cards is astonishing, and must be made to order I RAYMOND. My dear Oliver, do not forget that I have been the second of Monsieur de Latour. OLIVER. Yon made his acquaintance at a hotel in Baden. Tou are an honorable man, and believe every man to be the same. I should never have permitted the duel to take place which Monsieur de Latour pretended to seek. SUSAN. Then you would call his courage in question ? Let me tell you, he fought at eighteen, and killed his adversary. OLIVER. I do not pretend to question Monsieur de Latour's cour- age ; I only say that an honorable man, like Monsieur de Maucroix, could never condescend to measure swords with him, nor should an honorable man like Monsieur de Nanjac condescend to become his second. ACT II. SCENE I. 69 SUSAN. Come, my dear Oliver, Monsieur de Latour is as good as Monsieur de Maucroix. OLIVER. No ; for Monsieur de Latour, though he pretends to be a count, is only the son of a pawnbroker at Marais, who left him fifty thousand francs, out of which, thanks to his skill at cards, he makes an income of forty thousand francs a year. I am astonished that ladies who call themselves fashionable and respectable COUNTESS. Who are so, my dear Oliver ! OLIVER. Who are so, then, if you wish ; should admit so readily to their society a person of whom they know so little, and who will end by driving every real gentleman away. I am certain Messrs, de Bryade, Bonchamp, and all that set, as Madame de Santis terms them, have been prevented from coming here this evening, through fear of meeting Monsieur de Latour. COUNTESS. Come, come, enough has been said on this subject ! OLIVER. Madame de Santis ! oh, Madame de Santis ! VALENTINA. Well? OLIVER. Are your apartments in Rue de la Paix all arranged ? VALENTINA. What is that to you ? You will never visit me 1 OLIVER. Thank you ! And your husband ? 70 THE DEMI-MONDE. VALENTINA. My husband ? OLIVER. My friend Richond has been giving you some information about him. Will he gorge the bait of reconciliation, and pay for the blue satin and amber brocade ? VALKNTINA. [ Angrily.'] My husband ? He shall hear from me 1 OLIVER. That will doubtless afford him pleasure. VALENTINA. I shall enter suit against him. OLIVER. Well, that is an idea ! But for what will you sue him ? VALENTINA. You shall see. I know some things about my husband ; my lawyer will arrange the matter ; for, after all, I am his wife. OLIVER. Whose, your lawyer's ? VALENTINA. My dear Oliver, you are only witty once a week, and as yesterday was your day, you had better say no more I OLIVER. That is the smartest thing I ever heard from your lips. MARCELLA. Let him go on, dear Valentina. You are in the right; you will gain your lawsuit, I am sure of it. You have no- thing further to say, Monsieur Oliver ? OLIVKR. No, Mademoiselle ! From the moment you touch upon ACT II. SCENE I. 71 these matters, I am silent; and as I am not at home on the subject of toys and dolls, I never talk with little girls. MARCELLA. Is that intended for me ? OLIVER. Yes, child ! MARCELLA. I speak of things about which you converse. When grown persons discuss matters in the presence of little girls, little girls have certainly the right to join in the conversation. Besides, I am no longer a child. OLIVER. What are- you then, Mademoiselle ? MARCELLA. I am a woman ! OLIVER. I have heard so, Mademoiselle, but my respect for you would not allow me to believe it. MARCELLA. [Indignantly."] Monsieur! VALENTINA. I knew you would end with some piece of impertinence ! COUNTESS. [Leading off Marcella.'} You have gone rather too far, Monsieur de Jalin; this child has done nothing to offend you. If hereafter you find yourself obliged to say disagree- able and insulting things in my house, may I beg that you will say them to me and to me alone. Come, Marcella ! Will you accompany us, Monsieur de Nanjac ? EAYMOND. I will join you immediately. [COUNTESS and MARCELLA exeunt.'] 72 THE DEMI-MONDE. OLIVER. You have heard, my dear Raymond ; would you now per- mit your sister to visit here ? RAYMOND. Then all that you have said is true ? OLIVER. Assuredly ! RAYMOND. This Monsieur de Latour is OLIVER. Un Chevalier d 1 Industrie ! RAYMOND. And Madame de Santis ? OLIVER. Is a heartless, dissolute woman, whose husband has for- bidden her to bear his name, which she vilely dishonored. RAYMOND. And Mademoiselle de Sanceneaux ? OLIVER. Is a marriageable young girl, the natural product of this society. RAYMOND. But in what society are we ? I am all bewilderment ! OLIVER. Ah, my dear friend, one must have frequented, as I have done thoroughly, the different grades of Parisian life, to com- prehend all their individualities and their lights and shades. How can I explain this to you ? Are you fond of peaches ? RAYMOND. Peaches ? Yes I ACT II. SCENE I. 73 OLIVER. Well, enter a fruit store and ask the proprietor for his best peaches. He will show you a basket containing mag- nificent specimens, separated from each other by leaves, in order that they may not be injured from contact. Ask him the price, and he will tell you, we will suppose, twenty cents each. Look around and you will be sure to see another basket filled with peaches equally fine in appearance with the first, only lying closer together, and thus not visible on all sides. You will price these and be told that they are worth only fifteen cents each. You will naturally in- quire why these peaches, apparently as large, fine, ripe, and tempting as the others, are so much less in value ? The vender will then take up one of them at random; he will carefully turn it, and show you a little speck which causes its inferiority. Well, my dear friend, we are now in the basket of peaches at fifteen cents each. The women whom you see around you have all some fault in their past history, or some spot on their name. They crowd together, in order that they shall exhibit as little as possible of their true cha- racter ; and with the same origin, the same exterior, and the same prejudices with women of society, they find themselves excluded from their association; they constitute what we call the Demi-Monde, which is neither aristocracy nor ple- bianism, which floats, like a moving island, in the Parisian Sea, which invites and receives all who fall, all who emigrate from the two firm continents of society, without considering who they are or inquiring whence they came. RAYMOND. But where does this world live ? OLIVER. Everywhere; but in Paris it can be more easily dis- tinguished than elsewhere. 7 74 THE DEMI-MONDE. RAYMOND. By what features ? OLIVER. By the lack of husbands 1 It is full of married women whose lords are invisible. RAYMOND. But whence comes this strange world ? OLIVER. It is a modern production. In days gone by, adultery, as we understand it, did not exist. Husbands were then more lenient, less willing to be convinced of a wife's faithlessness, for public opinion, while it offered him no redress, ridiculed him more than it condemned the wife 1 But since men have been armed with the legal right of casting from their bosoms the wives who have violated their marriage vows, a trans- formation has taken place in conjugal relations which has given birth to anpther grade of society ; for what becomes of all the compromised, disgraced, and repudiated wives? The first who found herself in either of these conditions, went, doubtless, with tears and shame, into deepest solitude, there to deplore her fall. The second went in search of the first, and when there were two they grew to calling their crime a misfortune or an error, and thus consoled and excused each other. When another joined them, they had little din- ners, and a fourth enabled them to have a contra-danse. Then around them clustered young girls who had begun life with a fault; pretended widows; false wives, bearing the names of men to whom they were never legally united, in fine, all falsely-positioned women who assume to be other than what they really are, and who wish to conceal their true 1 character. Thus this bastard-society increases daily in num- bers. It is full of attractions to young men, who here find love-making much easier and less dangerous than in more ACT II. SCENE I. 75 elevated circles, and more economical and agreeable than in lower spheres. But the youths who frequent it fall back from time to time among mere courtezans, who, from jeal- ousy, indiscretion, or pique, not only ascertain the antece- dents of these ladies, but laughingly recount them at the supper table, familiarly calling names once distinguished and honorable, and ending with the taunt, " Thus you see women of so-called society, after all, are no better than ourselves. " RAYMOND. But what becomes of this society ? OLIVER. I know not ! Only, that under this glittering surface of youth, beauty, and fortune, and beneath this world of laces, gay with festivity and golden with love, lie the skeletons of buried hopes and smoulder the embers of remorse. There scandals are engendered, and there gather the elements which sooner or later bring disgrace and ruin in their train, the dishonor of families, and the separation of children from their mothers, whom happily they forget early, that later they may not curse them ! But youth fades, and flatterers depart ; and from the depths of the past, unavailing regrets and the pangs of remorse, the sense of abandonment and the dread of solitude, all come forth to darken the present and imbitter the fjiture ! Among these women there are some who attach them- selves to a man stupid enough to be serious in his devotion, and end with effecting his ruin in common with their own ; others fall into the lowest depths of infamy ; while others, like Madame de Vernieres, cling to this false society, and die between the desire of regaining their lost position and the fear of falling into one still lower ! Then, again, some, either from repentance or fear of a lonely, cheerless future, implore, through the medium of family interest, in the name 76 THE DEMI-MONDE. of their children, the pardon of their husbands. Mutual friends endeavor to effect a reconciliation. They represent that the woman is no longer young, that she can no longer furnish food for scandal ; they draw the veil of charity over her errors; her husband forgives her, and with him she travels abroad ; on her return, the world closes its eyes to her history, and permits her, now and then, modestly and timidly to appear in the circles from which she had been so long excluded. RAYMOND. Is all this indeed true ? How delighted the Baronness would be with your picture ! OLIVER. Why? RAYMOND. Because she has herself drawn the same portrait ! OLIVER. She? RAYMOND. Yes ; though less wittily, I must confess. OLIVER. Ah ! [aside] a deep woman that ! [Aloud.~] But if the Baronness understands this society, why does she frequent it ? RAYMOND. The very question I asked her ! She told me that old friendships sometimes drew her into it, and that Madame de Santis, for instance, was the companion of her childhood. Besides, she takes great interest in Mademoiselle de Sance- neaux, and is desirous to withdraw her from her equivocal position. But she will soon quit these associations, and forever ! OLIVER. How? ACT II. SCENE I. 77 RAYMOND. That is a secret ; but in a week you shall learn all. Enter MARCELLA. MAECELLA. Monsieur de Nanjac, Madame d'Ange wishes to see you. [Exit RAYMOND.] Do not go Monsieur de Jalin, I want to speak with you. OLIVER. Mademoiselle ! MARCELLA. You were harsh to me this evening ; you made me weep ; what have I done ? OLIVER. Nothing, Mademoiselle. MARCELLA. This is not the first time you have spoken unkindly to me. I know, for I have been told, that you have a bad opinion of me. OLIVER. You have been deceived. MARCELLA. You were not always thus harsh to me ; on the contrary, you formerly had a kind word for my ear. I used to flatter myself that I almost possessed your friendship. You were not happy in your family relations ; you confided in me ; I, too, had my griefs : there was the bond of sympathy between us. Why are you offended now ? With what can you re- proach me ? OLIVER. I still feel for you the same sympathy and regard, Made- moiselle, only MARCELLA. Oh, speak! OLIVER. Well ! a young girl should be a young girl, and not raed- 7* 78 THE DEMI-MONDE. die in concerns which do not belong to her age. There are times when your conversation embarrasses me. I am con- stantly filled with regret at seeing you mixing in this society, and to hear you touch upon such subjects as those which Madame de Santis is in the habit of discussing. MARCELLA. Then your severity proceeded from the interest you feel in me ! Oh, thanks, thanks ! I know you are right ; but what can I do ? I cannot break away from these associations. I have neither father nor mother I The sentiments I express are those to which I have been accustomed to listen for the last four years. Perhaps, after all, my being in this circle may be beneficial, for I have constantly before me such ter- rible examples of the misery and shame to which one false step reduces women, that I have learned, at least, to beware of the rock on which so many are wrecked ! OLIVER. True! MARCELLA. The interest you have manifested in me emboldens me to ask your advice. Monsieur Oliver OLIVER. Speak, Mademoiselle. MARCELLA. What can be done by a girl like myself, without family, without fortune, with no protector but a relative like Ma- dame de Vernie'res, reared in the society in which you find me; what can she do to remain pure in thought and deed, to escape suspicion, and to resist evil influences ? You turn away you do not reply ! You can pity, yes, even blame me, but you cannot advise me ! Have I not now the right to say that I am no longer a child ? OLIVER. Pardon, oh pardon me I ACT II. SCENE I. 79 MARCELLA. I will do more than pardon, I will bless you for having opened my eyes before it was too late ! All I ask of you is, that happen what may, when you hear me defamed you will defend me, if only a little, and in exchange I promise to find the means of remaining a pure and spotless woman ! Some day, perhaps, I may find an honest man who will recompense me ! Good-bye, Monsieur Oliver, and many thanks. [Going.~] Enter SUSAN. SUSAN. I am glad to see that peace is declared ! MARCELLA. Yes, and I am so happy I [Exit. ] OLIVER. Strange girl ! SUSAN. She loves you ! OLIVER. Me? SUSAN. Yes, and has done so for some time. OLIVER. Well, I am learning something every day ! SUSAN. I, too, am learning something, namely : that your word cannot be depended on. OLIVER. Why? SUSAN. Because you have not been faithful to the friendship you promised me. OLIVER. What have I done ? 80 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSAN. Monsieur de Nanjac has just repeated your conversation to me. OLIVER. I did not mention you. SUSAN. This is a subterfuge ! To say to Monsieur de Nanjac what you did say, was equivalent to denouncing me ; however, I was ahead of you I OLIVER. At worst, what difference could it make, since you do not love Monsieur de Nanjac ? SUSAN. How do you know that? OLIVER. Then you do love him ? SUSAN. I am not accountable to you, sir ! OLIVER. Perhaps you may be. SUSAN. Shall there be war between us ? OLIVER. I am prepared for it I SUSAN. You have letters of mine, sir, which I beg you will imme- diately return. OLIVER. To-morrow I will return them in person. SUSAN. Until to-morrow, then ! OLIVER. Until to-morrow ! [Exit.] END OP SECOND ACT. ACT THIRD. Drawing-Room in House of Madame D'Ange. SUSAN AND SERYANT. SUSAN. Has my notary been here ? SERVANT. No, Madame. SUSAN. I am going out; should a gentleman call, request him to wait for me. [ Servant announces MADEMOISELLE DE SANCENAUX.] SUSAN. Admit her. [Exit Servant.'} Enter MARCELLA. SUSAN. To what am I indebted for the pleasure of this visit, my child ? MARCELLA. Do I disturb you, Madame ? SUSAN. You never disturb me ; I am so much attached to you, that it always affords me pleasure to have you near me. But you appear agitated ? MARCELLA. Oh, Madame ! you could do me a great favor, if you would ! SUSAN. How? Speak! 82 THE DEMI-MONDE. MARCELLA. You have influence with the Marquis de Thonnerins ? SUSAN. Yes ; he is disposed to be friendly. MARCELLA. Some four years since he proposed to my aunt to have me educated, with his daughter as a companion. SUSAN. Yes; I heard him mention the circumstance, but your aunt refused. MARCELLA. Unfortunately ! Had she consented, I should not now be placed in so disagreeable a position. SUSAN. Why, what has occurred ? MARCELLA. I do not wish to complain of my aunt; it is not her fault that the small fortune left to me by my parents has, little by little, become exhausted for household expenses. I shall ever be her debtor for that kindness and affection which money cannot repay. Pecuniary embarrassments cannot fail, in time, to sour the most amiable disposition. Yesterday, after your departure, my aunt and myself had a somewhat painful explanation, inasmuch as I then informed her that I did not love Monsieur de Nanjac, that I had already told him so, and that I could never become his wife. SUSAN. Because you love another ? MARCELLA. Perhaps so I My aunt at last gave me to understand that if I did not second her plans she could no longer keep charge of me. When I retired for the night, I thought over every ACT III. SCENE I. 83 feasible plan by which I might honorably support myself, and no longer be a burden to her. It was then I remembered Monsieur de Thonnerins' kind offer, and determined to call upon you, who have ever been so obliging and affectionate to me, and beg you to intercede with the Marquis on my behalf, to obtain the position which he offered to me four years ago. Mademoiselle de Thonnerins will probably not marry for some years to come. She lives very retired ; I should love her dearly, and she would become attached to me, and when she married I am sure she would retain me near her. Oh, Ma- dame ! if you will but aid me, my plan must succeed ; and I shall then be indebted to you, if not for a brilliant position, at least for an honorable independence. SUSAN. I will see the Marquis this very day. MARCELLA. You are kind indeed ! SUSAN. I am obliged to go out, but will call on the Marquis be- fore I return. So give me a note for him. MARCELLA. I will go home, write the letter, and send it to you. SUSAN. Write it here, while I put on my bonnet ; you may bring it to me in the next room, and wait here for the Marquis's answer. I shall be back in less than an hour. [Rings a bell.'} MARCELLA. During your absence I will return home, for I left without my aunt's knowledge, and she may feel uneasy about me. Enter SERVANT. SUSAN. [ To Servant.] If Monsieur de Jalin should call, ask him 84 THE DEMI-MONDE. to wait, as also Monsieur de Nanjac. [Exit Servant. ] Bring me your letter, my child, as soon as it is finished. [ Exit. ] MAROELLA. [ Writing. ] What a happy inspiration I have had ! Hea- ven grant my prayer ! Yes, it will be granted ! [During this time OLIVER enters, and gazes silently at MARCELLA. She rises, seals her letter, and turning, discovers him.'] Yon, Oliver? OLIVER. Did I alarm you, Mademoiselle ? MARCKLLA. I did not expect to sec you ! OLIVER. You seem to be in fine spirits this morning. MARCELLA. I am ! My heart is filled with new and blissful hopes, and to you I owe their inspiration 1 Since yesterday, the future has begun to wear a smiling face ! OLIVER. Pray, what has happened ? MARCELLA. You shall soon know all. From you, my best friend, I have no secrets. [Going.] OLIVER. Are you going already ? MARCELLA. In an hour I shall return ; you will still be here, for I shall ask the Baronness to retain you. [ Taking his hand.'] Be ever frank as you were yesterday 1 You little know how much good the candor of an honest heart may produce. [Exit.'] OLIVER. The heart of a woman may, perhaps, be fathomed, but ACT III. SCENE I. 85 that of a young girl is beyond penetration ! Heaven knows how harshly I thought of this poor child yesterday, and how kindly I feel toward her to-day. '[Draws letter from his pocket. ] Now to put the epitaph on the dead past ! May the earth rest lightly upon it ! [ Writing.'] " To the Baron- ness D'Ange." Enter RAYMOND. OLIVER. \_Aside.~] Raymond! The devil! [Replaces the letters in his pocket. Aloud.~\ My dear Raymond, is that you? I was speaking of you not an hour ago. RAYMOND. With whom ? OLIVER. De Maucroix's father, with whom I breakfasted. I say I spoke of you, but it was he who first mentioned your name. RAYMOND. Does he know me ? OLIVER. Personally, no ; but he is very intimate with the Minister of War, who spoke to him of you; and, as De Maucroix knows you to be a friend of mine, and, like an old soldier, feels an intere'st in all who worthily wear an epaulet, he in- quired whether I knew your reason for resigning your com- mission. I replied that so far from knowing your motives, I was ignorant even of the fact ; in fine, that I doubted it, although he assured me that he had heard it from the minister himself. RAYMOND. It is true ; and if I did not before mention the circum- stance to you OLIVER. Your secrets are your own, my dear Raymond ; my friend- 8 86 THE DEMI-MONDE. ship induces me to feel great interest in your welfare, but never leads me to be indiscreet. If you have resigned your commission, (which is a serious step,) you must have had strong reasons for so doing such as the solicitude of a friend would have combatted in vain. You are well, at any rate ? RAYMOND. Perfectly ! Are you going ? OLIVER. Yes ; the Baronness is not at home. RAYMOND. Let us await her return. OLIVER. I am in a hurry ; I have a visit to make. RAYMOND. Have you any message to leave ? OLIVER. Yes ; tell the Baronness that I brought her what she re- quested. RAYMOND. What a mysterious commission ! Are you offended with me? OLIVER. Good heavens, no ! I have nothing whereat to be offended ! RAYMOND. The friendship which you entertained for me gives you the right to be astonished, even offended, at any conceal- ment on my part ! Pardon me, but I promised silence to one to whom I can refuse nothing ; and not only have I con- cealed from you the truth, but yesterday I was even guilty of prevarication. Now, however, I will tell you all, for, since deceiving you, I have been humiliated and ill at e;i ACT III. SCENE I. 87 OLIVER. Tell me nothing, I entreat of you ! RAYMOND. Come, come, Oliver! this petulance is well enough for children, but it is unworthy of men. Come, I have a favor to ask of you, and would have called on you to-day in re- gard to it, had I not met you here. OLIVER. A favor ? RAYMOND. I am about to marry. OLIVER. You! RAYMOND. Yes; I! OLIVER. Whom? RAYMOND. Guess. OLIVER. How can I ? RAYMOND. I told you, at our first interview, that on your reply to sundry questions which I proposed would hinge my destiny ! I am about to marry Madame d'Ange. OLIVER. Susan! [Recovering himself.'] The Baronness ? RAYMOND. Yes! OLIVER. You are jesting ! RAYMOND. I assure you, I am quite in earnest. OLIVER. It was Madame d'Ange who first suggested this marriage ? 88 THE DEMI-MONDE. RAYMOND. On the contrary, it was myself ! OLIVER. Allow me to congratulate you, my friend. RAYMOND. This news appears to astonish you ! OLIVER. I confess I am confounded ! I felt quite sure, notwith- standing your assertions yesterday to the contrary, that you were still in love with Madame d'Ange. I even imagined that you had quitted the army to be near her ; but I never for one moment supposed you contemplated marrying her ! RAYMOND. -Why not? OLIVER. Because, in my opinion, marriage is a serious matter, and requires more reflection than you have given it. RAYMOND. On the contrary, my friend, I believe when one meets with happiness, it is wise to grasp it. I am free, without family, and, although thirty-two, have never before loved. Madame d'Ange is free, a widow, a lady of position as y<>u yourself have told me. We love each other, and are about to marry. It seems to me that this is not unnatural. OLIVER. Oh, no I When are you to be married ? RAYMOND. Immediately. But do not mention our intention, as the Baronness desires the whole matter to be strictly private. We shall live in the utmost retirement. She even wished that the ceremony should take place far from Paris ; but, on your account, I desired that it should be celebrated here. ACT III. SCENE I. 89 OLIVER. On my account? RAYMOND. Yes ; I require a groomsman, and depend on you to act in that capacity. OLIVER. That I shall be a witness to your marriage with the Baronness ? Impossible ! RAYMOND. Do you refuse ? OLIVER. I leave here to-morrow ! RAYMOND. You did not tell me of this before ! What troubles you, my dear Oliver ? you seem quite embarrassed ! OLIVER. I am perplexed. RAYMOND. Wherefore ? Speak ! * OLIVER. Raymond, do you believe that in an important matter I could fail to counsel you as a true friend ? RAYMOND. Assuredly not ! OLIVER. Well, then, postpone this marriage ! RAYMOND. What do you mean ? OLIVER. I mean, however much in love a man may be, it is folly for him to marry a woman who is otherwise accessible. RAYMOND. Oliver, when I informed you of my love for Madame d'Ange, I probably forgot to mention that I also esteem and respect her ! 8* 90 THE DEMI-MONDE. OLIVER. Well, well, we will drop the subject. Au revoirf [ G<>in Marcella.'] SUSAN. Well? RAYMOND. Susan, there is some false play here ! SUSAN. Doubtless ! For on my soul I do not comprehend this proceeding. RAYMOND. Look at these letters ! SUSAN. They are evidently written by a lady ! RAYMOND. Read them ! SUSAN. [Beading.] They might readily pass for love-letters, they are worded so tenderly ! Well ? ACT III. SCENE I. 103 RAYMOND. You do not know who wrote them ? SUSAN. How should I know ? They have no signatures. RAYMOND. Then you did not write them ? SUSAN. I write them ! Are you mad ? Does my penmanship resemble this ? I wish that it did, for this woman writes well. RAYMOND. Oliver seemed sincere ! Wherefore this base deception ? SUSAN/ What deception ? Pray explain. Did Monsieur de Jalin say that / wrote these letters ? RAYMOND. He did ! SUSAN. Then Monsieur de Jalin must have been my lover ? RAYMOND. So it would seem ? SUSAN. He told you so ? RAYMOND. He gave me to understand as much ! SUSAN. What, after having affirmed to the contrary ; what means this jest? RAYMOND. Monsieur de Jalin was not jesting ! SUSAN. No; he was revenging himself for the untruth you told him yesterday, and which doubtless he has detected. I have 104 THE DEMI-MONDE. been acquainted with Monsieur de Jalin even longer than with yourself, and I know him to be incapable of such base- ness. He once professed love for me ; I have some letters of his that I can show you. I think he did not wish me to marry, since all hope for him would then have been over. But that he sought by calumniating me to prevent our union oh no ! I cannot believe Monsieur de Jalin capable of such villany ! RAYMOND. We shall see. He and I must have an explanation. Swear to me that all Monsieur de Jalin has said is false ! SUSAN. An oath ! Oh, this is indeed more than a jest, or even a calumny of Monsieur de Jalin ; it is treason on your part ! RAYMOND. Treason ! SUSAN. Yes ! You have already regretted the engagement that you made yesterday; but it would surely have been more honorable to have said so frankly, than to have resorted to such a subterfuge as this, which reflects far greater credit on your ingenuity than on your delicacy ! RAYMOND. Susan, you are accusing me of a base and cowardly action ! SUSAN. And pray, of what do you accuse me ? RAYMOND. Monsieur de Jalin will soon return ; we can explain before him. SUSAN. How ? Do you require Monsieur de Jalin's endorsement to believe in my virtue ? I am to make him say that he ha- ACT III. SCENE I. 105 never enjoyed my favors, and then you will believe me ! Pray sir, for what do you take me ? I loved you, Raymond, but, I admit, your jealous, suspicious disposition alarmed me ; hence my hesitation about becoming your wife. Still I flattered myself that you esteemed and respected me. I will not inquire into this business of to-day ; you have sub- jected me to a trial humiliating alike to my dignity and my love. You have doubted me, so all is at an end between us ! RAYMOND. But my jealousy was a proof of my affection; for, O Susan, I love you most truly ! SUSAN. I do not wish to be loved thus ! RAYMOND. I swear to you SUSAN. Enough, sir ! RAYMOND. Susan ! Enter SERVANT. SERVANT. Mademoiselle de Sancenaux wishes to see Madame. SUSAN. Admit her. [Exit Servant.'] RAYMOND. I will not leave you. Enter MARCELLA. SUSAN. You are welcome, dear child. Monsieur de Nanjac, I must beg that you will excuse me; Mademoiselle and myself wish to have some private conversation. 106 TH E DEMI-MONDE. RAYMOND. When shall I have the honor of seeing you again ? SUSAN. On my return to Paris. I leave here to-night, and shall admit no one before my departure. [Exit RAYMOND, with a bow. SUSAN rings a bell.~\ Enter SERVANT. SUSAN. [To Servant.'] If Monsieur de Nanjac calls again to- day, say to him that I am not at home. Should he insist on entering, tell him that I have forbidden him my house. Go ! [Exit Servant. To Harcella.~\ I have seen the Marquis, and have bad news for you, my poor girl. Mon- sieur de Thonnerins'feels great interest in you, but MARCELLA. He cannot grant my request ? SUSAN. He would gladly do so, but MARCELLA. Worldly considerations prevent ! I have reflected on the matter since we parted, and can readily understand his un- willingness to place beside his daughter one who has been so peculiarly reared and so equivocally situated as myself. I thank you, dear Madam, for all your kindness, and must beg you will forgive me for having put you to so much trouble. SCSAN. I wish I could have succeeded in obtaining for you the position you desired ; the Marquis is very fond of you, and begged me to say that he would be glad to serve you; his purse is at your disposal. ACT III. SCENE I. 107 MARCELLA. [Indignantly.] I asked aid, not alms, at his hands. [Weeps.'] SCSAX. Do not despair, my poor child ! How do you know but the man you love returns your affection, and would marry you ? MARCELLA. I love no one ! SUSAN. Be it so ! Keep your secret if you will, my dear Marcella. MARCELLA. Did I not hear you say that you intended to leave here this evening ? SUSAN. Yes. MARCELLA. Perhaps, then, we may not meet again ; yet I shall never, never forget your kindness ! SUSAX. I will keep you advised of my movements. You will write to me, and, absent or present, I shall ever be ready to serve you. MARCELLA. Thanks ! thanks ! [They embrace.] Adieu ! SUSAN. Farewell ! Take courage ! Enter SERVANT. SERVANT. Monsieur Oliver de Jalin. [Exit Servant.] Enter OLIVER. OLIVER. I hope that I am not driving you away, Mademoiselle ? 108 THE DEMI-MONDE. MARCELLA. No, sir ; I was about to leave. OLIVER. How sad yon now appear, Mademoiselle; has anything gone wrong? MARCELLA. Alas ! the journey of life is beset with thorns to those who have to pursue it alone ! OLIVER. But not when one has a supporting arm on which to lean ! Am I not your friend ? I will call and see you, and you shall tell me all your sorrows. MARCELLA. And you will advise me ! [ They shake hands. Exit MARCELLA.] SUSAN. Dear me, how affecting ! I should really like to see you marry Mademoiselle de Sancenaux, notwithstanding all you have said against her ! OLIVER. I did not know her ; now I understand and appreciate her. SUSAN. Which proves that we should never speak ill of any one ! Apropos, we have a little account of this kind to settle. OLIVER. What account ! SUSAN. Come, now, feign ignorance ! You advised Monsieur de Nanjac not to marry me ! OLIVER. True! SUSAN. You informed him why it would be an act of folly to do so ? ACT III. SCENE I. 109 OLIVER. I did! SUSAN. You have at least the virtue of frankness ! Yet you have been guilty of what do you call it ? There is a term for this kind of thing ! OLIVER. A piece of folly ; is that what you mean ? SUSAN. No! OLIVER. A piece of infamy ? SUSAN. No ; not that. A s OLIVER. A base, cowardly action ! Say it, for the words burn on your lips ! SUSAN. That is it ! "A base, cowardly action 1" OLIVER. How so ? SUSAN. Because a man of honor keeps such matters to himself ! OLIVER. Fortunately for me, you and I have different notions of honor ! SUSAN. And so you imagined that Monsieur de Nanjac would not repeat your conversation to me ? OLIVER. He promised me, on his honor, to be silent. SUSAN. Yes ; and you promised, on your honor, to be my friend 1 10 HO THE DEMI-MONDE. OLIVER. To be your friend, yes ; but not your accomplice ! SUSAN. Accomplice is a hard word ! Say, Oliver OLIVER. Well? SCSA.V. Do you know all this has turned to my advantage ? OLIVER. So much the better ! For I shall then have done my duty to a friend, and at the same time have served you ! SCSAX. He is more enamored of me than ever I OLIVER. Indeed ! SCSAX. Yes ; so I cannot feel angry with you. Yet, how is it that a man of your sense did not perceive and avoid the snare which I laid for you ? OLIVER. The snare ? SCSAX. Yes ; my poor friend ! You should not attempt to out- wit a woman ! For do you not know that the most stupid woman in the world, and I am far from being that person, is a thousand times shrewder and more adroit than the most sensible man ? I suspected yesterday, after your conversa- tion with Monsieur de Nanjac, that our friendship would not last long ; and that as soon as you became aware that it was a question of marriage, your notions of delicacy would be aroused. It became necessary for me, then, by a deciajpo blow, to put an end to all calumnies. I asked you to bring me my letters to-day. Nothing but that would have opened ACT III. SCENE I. your eyes. Am I a woman to require a return of my letters ? You, without the faintest suspicion, came here most inno- cently, this morning, with your little letters in your pocket ! I went out in order that yourself and Monsieur de Nanjac might meet alone. You played the part of an honorable man most admirably ! You informed Monsieur de Nanjac of the relationship formerly existing between us, and you found the means of leaving my letters within his reach. I returned ; he had never seen my writing, so he begged me to pen a few lines in his presence ; he then compared the two hands OLIVER. Eh ? What ? SUSAN. As they did not at all resemble each other, he became con- vinced immediately that I was the victim of calumny ! He consequently loves me more tenderly than ever, and has but one desire, namely, to cut your throat ! How is it possible to have arrived at your time of life without being aware that the most infallible means of converting your best friend into an enemy is to speak ill of the woman he loves ; par- ticularly when you cannot prove your assertions ! I bade Monsieur de Nanjac farewell, said I would never again see him, that I intended to leave Paris this very day, in fact all that an adroit woman could say. I told him he must renounce all hope of having me as his wife. In ten minutes he will return here ; in ten days we shall be married ! This is all, my dear Oliver, that you have accomplished ! OLIVER. You have, then, two different styles of writing ? SUSAN. No ; I have but one : that is sufficient. OLIVER. How is that ? 112 THE DEMI-MONDE. STSAX. I will tell you ; for, after all, I am an amiable woman, and you are a clever fellow, whom I like. Know, then, that for the last ten years I have been a keen observer, and have discovered that in nine cases out of ten women are com- promised by their letters. Our epistles seem only written to be lost by those to whom they are addressed ; returned to her who has written them; intercepted by the very per who ought not to see them ; stolen by servants ; and, finally, exposed to the world I It is as dangerous as it is usi to write love-letters ! Thus my observations led me to re- solve that I would never write a compromising letter, and for ten years past I have kept my resolution. OLIVER. Then the letters I received from you SrsAX. Were written by Madame de Santis, who all day long has her pen in hand! She was with me during my stay at Baden, and did me the favor of replying to all your notes, which, by the way, I scarcely ever read ! She writes a beauti- ful, aristocratic, English hand; so, my dear friend, you per- ceive that you have been corresponding with Valentina ! But do not be alarmed, I will not inform your friend Mon- sieur de Richond ; it might produce ill-feeling ! OLIVER. I have nothing to say; you are certainly a model of intrigue ! Sis \\. But seriously, why have you treated me so unkindly? With what can you reproach me? If Monsieur de Nanjar had been an old friend, the companion of your boyhood, or a brother ! But no, you have scarcely known him a week ! Are yon quite sure that you have not been guided in this ACT III. SCENE I. H3 matter by the evil counsels of your wounded self-love ? That you are not attached to me, I well know ; but a man never forgives a woman for proving that she is indifferent to him. What ! because you made love to me, and I was suffi- ciently confiding to trust in you ; because I imagined you a chivalrous man ; because I loved you, perhaps, are you to throw yourself as an obstacle in my path of life ? Have I ever deceived you ? Let us admit, since it is so, that I am not in the eyes of the world worthy of the name and posi- tion to which I aspire. Should you you who have con- tributed to render me unworthy should you raise obstacles to prevent my leading an honorable life ? No, no, my dear Oliver, this is not just ; my weakness, by which you profited, should never be used by you as a weapon against me ! The man who has been loved by a woman, however slightly, from purely disinterested motives, is forever that woman's debtor, and he can never do too much for her in return ! OLIVER. You are right ! Perhaps I mistook the voice of jealousy for that of honor ; nevertheless, in my place any gentleman would have done the same. On Raymond's account I was right in speaking. On yours, I should have held my tongue. There is great truth in the Arabian proverb, that " Speech is silver, but silence is gold." SUSAN. I am rejoiced to find you so reasonable, now OLIVER. Well, what now ? Enter SERVANT. SUSAN. [ To Oliver.] Nothing ! [ To Servant.] What is it ? SERVANT. Monsieur de Nanjac wishes to see Madame. 10* 114 THE DEMI-MONDE. SCSAN. I have already given my orders. SERVANT. He insisted upon seeing the Baronness. I replied that Madame did not receive to-day. He desired me to ascertain if Monsieur de Jalin were here, and if so, to beg Madame to admit him. SUSAN. Desire Monsieur de Nanjac to enter. OLIVER. Do yon intend receiving him ? SUSAN. No ; I will leave you to do that, and to say to him what- ever you think proper, bearing in mind always that he loves me and that I love him, and what I will, I will ! So au revoir, my dear Oliver ! [Extt.~\ OLIVER. Would that this scene were over ! Enter RAYMOND. OLIVER. You wish to see me, my dear Raymond ? We are alone, and I am all attention. RAYMOND. I cannot quite forget that I once called you friend, Oliver ; and yet OLIVER. Well? RAYMOND. You deceived me ! OLIVER. No ; I did not ! RAYMOND. Listen to me, Oliver ; Madame d'Ange has proved to me the falsity of all that you told me. You affirmed that &\w was ACT III. SCENE T. 115 never married; I have seen her marriage certificate; yes, seen it with my own eyes ! Will you tell me the paper was forged ? OLIVER. No! RAYMOND. You assured me she was not a widow ; I have seen the certificate of her husband's death ! Do you pretend that this is an invention ? OLIVER. No! RAYMOND. I have just parted with the Marquis de Thonnerins, who, in reply to my questions concerning the Baronness, assured me that he knew nothing about her. Finally, the letters which you pretended to have received from Madame d'Ange OLIVER. Were not from her, as I am now aware. They were sent to me by a friend of hers, who gave me to understand they were from the Baronness ; instead of which both ladies were amusing themselves at my expense ! I have been deceived. I thought I possessed the right to warn you, when in fact I did not ; and in my desire to manifest my friendship for you, I have only proved myself a fool ! RAYMOND. RAYMOND. Then you retract all that you have said ? OLIVER. All ! She is of good family ; she has been married ; is a Baronness ; a widow ; she loves you ; our intimacy has never been criminal ; she is worthy of you : whoever affirms to the contrary is a calumniator, for he who says what he cannot prove must come under this designation ! Adieu ! for after what has happened I can never present myself before the Baronness, unless she invites me to her house, which she is 116 THE DEMI-MONDE. not likely to do. As for you, Raymond, do not accuse me of anything worse than credulity and awkwardness ! Farewell ! RAYMOND. Adieu ! [Exit OLIVER.] Enter SERVANT. SERVANT. Is Monsieur aware that the Baronness is pot at home, and that she will not soon return ? RAYMOND. Never mind ; I will wait for her. END OP THIKD ACT. ACT FOURTH. Drawing-Room at. Madame d' 'Ange's. [Susan seated.] Enter SERVANT. SERVANT. Monsieur, the Marquis de Thonnerins. [Exit.'] Enter MARQUIS. MARQUIS. Good-day, Baronuess ! SUSAN. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, my dear Marquis ? MARQUIS. I called, Susan, to ascertain if my notary has sent you all the papers which you required ? . SUSAN. All ; many thanks ! MARQUIS. And then I wished to learn how you are getting on. SUSAN. Oh, very well ! MARQUIS. And your marriage ? SUSAN. My marriage ! MARQUIS. Yes ; when is it to take place ? 117 118 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSAN. True ! true ! I have not seen you for a long time ; you have not heard, then MARQUIS. Nothing I SfSAN. You were right, Marquis. I was too ambitious ; it was an impossibility ! MARQUIS. Tell me all about it ! SUSAN. I was betrayed ! MARQUIS. By whom ? SUSAN. By one in whom I reposed too much confidence ; by M <>n- sieur de Jalin ! MARQUIS. Then he informed Monsieur de Nanjac SUSAN. Ah ! You know his name ? MARQUIS. Ah, yes ! And what course did Monsieur de Nanjac pursue ? SUSAN. He first believed De Jalin, but, loving me, ended by be- lieving me. MARQUIS. And now ? SUSAN. He still loves me, no longer confidingly, but jealously ; and pursues a constant system of suspicion and surveillance ; while, for myself, I must confess that I have no longer the courage to accept that life to reach which was once my highest ambition. To live in continual fear that the past, ACT IV. SCENE I. like a tottering wall, may at any moment fall upon and crush me; to devise every morning the falsehood which I shall be forced before night to deny, and in the midst of this to love purely and sincerely, I repeat, the thing is impossible, and I have, in this fearful struggle, not only exhausted my strength and courage, but also my love ; for I am no longer attached to Monsieur de Nanjac ! MARQUIS. Is this really true, Susan ? SUSAN. You are one whom I never deceive 1 MARQUIS. You do not love Monsieur de Nanjac ? SUSAN. I love no one 1 MARQUIS. Then your marriage will not take place ? SUSAN. No ; I will retain my liberty ; I will retire to Italy : there no one inquires minutely into a woman's antecedents ; pro- vided she is pretty, has means, and entertains well, she is believed. I will buy a chateau on the Lake of Como, pink myself out in white and red, like Madame de Santis ; sail on the lake by starlight, write poems a la Byron, carry myself like a lady of respectability, receive and patronize artists, and wind up, if nothing else will satisfy me, by marrying some ruined adventurer, some counterfeit Italian prince, who will squander my fortune while he keeps a danc- ing girl ! Have I not taken a rational view of my position ? MARQUIS. When do you set out ? SUSAX. In three or four days. 120 THE DEMI-MONDE. MARQUIS. Alone ? SUSAN. With my maid. MARQUIS. And De Nanjac is ignorant of your proposed departure ? SOSAN. Entirely ! MARQUIS. And you do not intend informing him where you are going ? SUSAN. If I any longer desired to see him, it would certainly be easier to remain in Paris. If I leave here, on the contrary, it is for the purpose of putting an end to all communication between us, MARQUIS. Well ; I applaud your resolution, and am rejoiced to find that your good sense induces you to take a step which, sooner or later, necessity would have forced upon you. SUSAN. I do not understand you ! MARQUIS. Fortune is a busybody, who meddles in affairs which least concern her; chance made Monsieur de Nanjac's sister and mine bosom friends ; to that sister De Nanjac spoke of his approaching marriage, and she in turn mentioned it to mine, and thus I learned the name which I was unwilling you should give me. This is not all : Monsieur de Nanjac him- self called upon me to inquire concerning you. I gave him no information, preferring to allow you to get out of this embarrassing situation with the honors of war. I called to- day to repeat what I once before said to you, that should I become acquainted with the man you are about to marry, I should feel in duty bound to tell him the truth. I have ACT IV. SCENE I. 121 waited several days, and, it seems, did well ; since you have already resolved that the marriage shall not take place. All is for the best, if you are really sincere. SUSAN. I am ! To-morrow Monsieur de Nanjac will be free, and you can, if you like, obtain him as a husband for your daughter ! MARQUIS. My daughter, let me remind you, Susan, has nothing to do with this matter. Farewell ! I hope you may be happy. But remember, Baronness, remember! \_Going.~\ SUSAN. Fear not ; I never forget 1 Enter YALENTINA. [Marquis bows, and retires."] VALENTINA. Was not that gentleman the Marquis de Thonnerins ? SUSAN. Yes. But where are you going in that dress ? VALENTINA. On a journey. SUSAN. When? VALENTINA. In an hour ! SUSAN. Where ? VALENTINA. To London ; thence to Belgium and Germany. SUSAN. Alone ? VALENTINA. No ; I have a companion. 11 122 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSAN. How about your lawsuit ? VALENTTNA. I shall discontinue it. The matter was brought before a referee. I lost ! The judge advised me, after I had repre- sented my wrongs to him, not to interfere with my husband. SUSAN. It is a long time since I have seen yon, VALENTINA. I have been busy disposing of my furniture and arranging my affairs, prior to my departure. SUSAN. You might have found time to have given the informa- tion I desired 1 VALENTINA. I wrote to you the result ; did you not receive my letter ? SUSAN. Yes; but VALENTINA. Well, I called to-day to explain everything. SUSAN. I am all attention. VALENTINA. I wrote to Madame de Lornan an anonymous letter. SUSAN. Well? VALENTINA. I took care to disguise, my hand. In that letter I told her that a lady who was interested in her requested an in- terview. I gave her to understand that it referred to Mon- sieur de Jalin, begged her to be discreet and to meet me night before last ACT IV. SCENE I. 123 SUSAN. Well, she came ? VALENTINA. Yes ; accompanied by a woman, who kept at a short dis- tance from us, so that we might converse undisturbed. We met at the Tuilleries ; it was dark, and I was veiled, conse- quently it was impossible to see my face. But I saw hers. She is very beautiful ! SUSAN. What did you tell her ? VALENTINA. Exactly what we had determined upon. That Oliver was deceiving her, and was in love with and about to marry Mademoiselle de Sanceneaux a disgraced woman, wholly unworthy of his hand. I pretended to think that she enter- tained only feelings of friendship for Oliver ; in fact, she is only his friend. But she loves him devotedly, and is jealous. SUSAN. Did you mention me ? VALENTINA. She spoke of you. I told her that I knew you, and that it was only by consulting with you, that she could prevent the misfortune of such a marriage. She hesitated long, but at mention of saving Monsieur de Jalin from such a fate, she promised to call here at two o'clock, on condition that you would receive her alone. This poor woman is quite beside herself! Who would ever imagine De Jalin capable of inspiring such affection ? By the way, have you heard from him ? SUSAN. Whom? VALENTINA. Why, De Jalin. SUSAN. Yes. 124 THE DEMI-MONDE. VALENTINA. On what terms is he with Monsieur de Nanjac ? SUSAN. They do not speak. VALENTINA. Yet Oliver visited you ? SUSAN. No ; he only wrote to me. VALENTINA. About what ? SUSAN. Oh, his letter was quite incomprehensible. He says he loves me, and that if he endeavored to prevent my mar- riage, it was on that account. VALENTIN A. Perhaps it may be true ! SUSAN. Perhaps ; who knows ? But it may be all deception, for he begs me to grant him an interview at his house, as he says there are things he cannot explain here. VALENTINA. In truth, that looks like a snare ! SUSAN. Yet I am quite sure Monsieur de Nanjac and himself are not even on speaking terms. VALENTINA. Oh, if Monsieur de Nanjac would only put a bullet through him, to teach him not to meddle with what does not concern him ! I hate, I detest this Oliver ! He it was who prejudiced Hippolyte against me ! SUSAN. Fear not ! We will both have our revenge ; for, to forgive an injury, is to draw on ourselves a repetition of it ! Mon- ACT IV. SCENE I. 125 sieur de Jalin, among other things, told De Nanjac that respectable ladies never frequented our society. He shall find Madame de Lornan here to-day, which will doubtless modify his opinion. VALENTINA. He is coming here, then ? SUSAN. Yes. VALENTINA. He will be furious ! Suppose he should further expose you? SUSAN. I have no fears ! When he utters the first word against me, De Nanjac will challenge him, and administer a lesson which will teach him the virtue of silence for the future. VALENTINA. I would give the world to see this ! But I must leave ; so farewell ! Write to me in London, under the name of Mademoiselle Rose, as I do not wish my husband to know of my whereabouts. Adieu ! It seems so strange to leave Paris, the only spot in the world where one can find amuse- ment ; but since it must be so, again farewell ! [Exit.~\ Enter RAYMOND. SUSAN. [Aside.] There is another to whom I will never speak after my marriage! \_To Raymond.] How impatient I have been to see you ! RAYMOND. All is ready. SUSAN. And the marriage contract ? RAYMOND. To-morrow we shall sign it. 11* 126 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSAN. When are we to set out ? RAYMOND. Whenever you wish. SUSAN. Then you love me as fondly as ever ? RAYMOND. Indeed, yes ! And you, Susan ? SUSAN. Can you ask ? Have I not proved my affection ? I love you with my whole soul 1 RAYMOND. But tell me, have you seen Monsieur de Jalin ? SUSAN. No ! Why do yon ask ? RAYMOND. Because I met him walking this way with his friend Mon- sieur Richond. SUSAN. He is coming here. RAYMOND. I thought you promised never again to receive him ? SUSAN. He wrote to me that he had something to communicate. I shall receive him as if nothing had happened, and I advise you to do the same. RAYMOND. Well ! But first go and give the final orders for our wed- ding to-morrow. I desire to have our marriage publicly announced to all of our friends, including Monsieur de Jalin. When he calls to-day I wish to be the first to re- ACT IV. SCENE I. 127 ceive him, as I want him to understand my rights in your house. Go, my love ! I will join you immediately. [Exit SUSAN.] Enter SERVANT. SERVANT. Monsieurs De Jalin and Richond. [Exit] Enter HIPPOLTTE and OLIVER. RAYMOND. [Bowing.'] Gentlemen ! OLIVER. How are you, Raymond? RAYMOND. Well, thank you ! OLIVER. Is the Baronness visible ? RAYMOND. She desired me to ask you to wait, and to say that she will be with you presently. [Bows, and Exit."] OLIVER. Do you see how coldly he treats me ? HlPPOLYTE. Yes. But in coming here you had no reason to expect any other reception. You had got through with this matter. Why did you come here again ? You had already done your duty. Monsieur de Nanjac is determined t//.] MARCELLA. May Heaven protect him ! Enter SUSAN. SUSAN. Marcella ! MARCELLA. You here, Madame ? SUSAN. Why are you here ? MARCELLA. I learned of this duel, and came here on the instant Sl SAN. Have you seen Oliver? ACT V. SCENE I. 15J MARCELLA. I have seen him ! SUSAN. When is it to take place ? MARCELLA. It will not take place at all, I hope I SUSAN. Indeed ! MARCELLA. There is one mode of preventing it. SUSAN. And that is MARCELLA. I know not ; but Oliver has promised me to adopt it. SUSAN. Never ! Oliver will fight, for he can only avoid doing so by ruining a lady, and he will never resort to such base- ness. He has deceived you ! MARCELLA. He? SUSAN. Answer me ; what did you tell him when you came here ? MARCELLA. That this duel should not take place ! SUSAN. And that you loved him ? MARCELLA. Yes! SUSAN. And that you would not leave his side ? MARCELLA. Yes ! How did you know ? 14 158 THE DEMI-MONDE. SUSA.V. Because, in a similar case, every woman would do the same. He then promised you to settle the affair without resort to arms? M ARC ELLA. Yes! SUSAN. Doubtless he told you he loved you ? MARCELLA. Oh yes ! But there was no need of that ! SCSAN. Well, he deceived yon; he only endeavored to gain time. He is gone to the place of meeting 1 MARCELLA. No ; he is in that room ! SUSAN. Are you certain ? MARCELLA. I have only to call him and he will come ! SUSAN. Do so, then ! MARCELLA. Oliver ! Oliver ! SUSAN. [Throws open the door.'] Empty! Now are you con- vinced ? MARCELLA. Impossible ! SUSAN. [Rings the bell.~\ Do you still doubt ? Enter SERVANT. SUSAN. [ To Servant.'] Has your master gone out ? ACT V. SCENE L 159 SERVANT. He has, Madame. SUSAN. Alone ? SERVANT. No, Madame ; accompanied by Messieurs Maucroix and Richond. SUSAN. Did he leave any message for Mademoiselle or myself ? SERVANT. None, Madame ! SUSAN. That will do. [Exit Servant.'] Where would you go, Marcella ? MARCELLA. I must seek him ; I must save him ! SCSAN. Where will you seek him ? Do you know where he is ? And how save him ? Wait, that is all we can do I We must abide the turn of fortune 1 Oliver and Raymond are probably fighting at this very moment! They are both brave, they hate each other, and one or both must fall ! MARCELLA. Merciful heaven 1 SUSAN. Now listen ; Oliver has either deceived you or myself, for to me also has he professed attachment 1 MARCELLA. To you? When? SUSAN. Two hours since ! My love, fortune, future, all, are now at stake ! If Raymond survives, I am saved ; but if he falls, Oliver's love is my only resource 1 Without it I shall 160 THE DEMI-MONDE. be mocked at and despised ! You also must wish to know the truth. The same man has professed attachment for us both ! It is an important question to ascertain which of the two he really loves ! When he returns, he must find but one of us here, for before us both he would never ex- plain. The other shall conceal herself behind that door, and shall hear all. I will be that one, if you wish. If he repeats that he loves you, I will leave without a word. Well ? Why do you not reply ? MARCELLA. Oh, Madame, I scarcely comprehend what you say ! You terrify me by your frightful coldness and composure I SUSAN. Hark ! Listen I MARCELLA. What? SUSAN. A carriage ! [Looks out of the window.] MARPELLA. It is he ! SUSAN. Blood has been shed ! Enter there ! [Points to another room.] MARCELLA. I would see him ! SUSAX. Enter, I tell you, it is he Oliver ! MARCELLA. Saved ! He lives ! Oh heaven, now I can bear the worst I SrsAN. [Pushes Marcella into a room at left.] Enter, I say I ACT V. SCENE I. Enter OLIVER, slightly wounded. OLIVER. You here, Susan ? SUSAN. You did not expect to see me ? OLIVER. In truth, no ! SUSAW. Are you wounded ? OLIVER. A mere scratch ! SUSAS. And Raymond ! OLIVER. Come, Susan, admit that I was right ! Did I lie to him ? SUSAX. No! OLIVER. Did I do more than an honorable man should have done ? SUSAN. No! OLIVER. Which was in the right in this quarrel ? SCSAN. You were 1 OLIVER. Then his death is a misfortune, not a crime ? SUSAN. His death ! OLIVER. Yes ! Listen to me, Susan. From the day you told me here that you did not love me, jealousy took possession of my soul. I feigned indifference, but I adcred you with that strange, fatal passion, with which you have inspired all who have known you. Monsieur de Thonnerins, that old man who, 11* 162 THE DEMI-MONDE. in your arms, forgot even his daughter ! Raymond, whom nothing could induce to think ill of you, and who preferred killing his friend to being convinced of the truth, and who, had he thus silenced the only tongue, which sooner or later could have exposed you, would have made you his wife! Well, if I threw obstacles in the way of your marriage, if I told Raymond everything, if on the field I forgot that he had been my friend and killed him, it was not on account of his offence, but to prevent his becoming your husband ; for I loved, I still love you ! Through me you have, in one moment, lost all 1 So you must become mine ! We will never separate ! Let us away at once 1 SUSAN. Be it so, let us away ! OLIVER. [Takes her in his arms.] At last! [Bursts into a mocking laugh.'] Oh, it has cost me trouble enough ! SUSAN. What do you mean ? OLIVER. You have lost, my charming friend, and must pay the forfeit ! Look ! Enter RAYMOND and HIPPOLYTE. SUSAN. [ Turns and perceives them.] Raymond ! Enter MARCELLA. MARCELLA. [ Throws herself into Oliver's arms.] Ah ! OLIVER. Pardon me, my own, my wife I It was to save my friend ! RAYMOND. Thanks, Oliver! In truth, I have been foully duped! ACT V. SCENE I. 163 You have taken care of my honor to the last ; nothing has changed your friendship : neither my unjust suspicions, my hatred, nor this wound, which fortunately is not serious! '[Takes his hand.~\ Henceforth there is nothing between Madame d'Ange and myself, except a little pecuniary affair. Perhaps you will add another to your many kindnesses by settling it for me, [Hands Oliver a paper,] so that I may not be obliged to address her even a single word ? [MARCELLA and RAYMOND converse aside. ~\ SUSAN. [ To Oliver.'] Sir, you are a knave and a scoundrel ! OLIVER. Oh, no more fine phrases ! When the life and honor of two men have been the stake, you should put the best face on your loss ! I received a wound in order to have an oppor- tunity of proving the truth. I do not prevent your mar- riage ; it is reason, justice, the laws of society, which for- bids an honorable man from marrying any other than a woman of virtue ! You have lost a husband, but at least your fortune still remains What do you mean ? OLIVER. By this act Raymond settles on you an amount equivalent to the fortune which you renounced at his instance. SUSAN. [Tears the papers into fragments.] It was name and position I sought from him, not fortune ! In an hour I shall leave Paris. To-morrow I will be out of France ! OLIVER. But you are without means ! You have returned all to the Marquis 164 THE DEMI-MONDE. SOSAN. I know not how it happened, but in my confusion and alarm I only returned to the Marquis some unimportant documents ; all the papers of real value remain in my desk ! So farewell, Oliver ! [Exit.~\ OLIVER. Had that woman only employed her talents and under- standing in a good, instead of a bad cause, what could she not have accomplished ! RAYMOND. [2b Marcella."] I congratulate you, Mademoiselle! You are about to marry the most honorable man alive ! FINALE. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. OCTi i 1*251999 OCT 2 ?001