Act 3

Scene I.—Piccardo and Martuccia.

Mar. What, have you returned already?

Pic. [With his master's cane.] Yes, I limp a little: but I was more frightened than hurt; it was not worth the money my master gave me to get cured.

Mar. It seems misfortunes are sometimes profitable.

Pic. [With an air of satisfaction.] Poor master! On my honour, this instance of his goodness affected me so much, I could hardly help shedding tears; if he had broken my leg, I should have forgiven him.

Mar. What a heart he has! Pity he has so great a failing.

Pic. But what man is there without defects?

Mar. Go and look for him; you know he has not dined yet.

Pic. Why not?

Mar. My son, there are misfortunes, terrible misfortunes, in this house.

Pic. I know all; I met your nephew, he told me all: this the reason I have returned so soon. Does my master know it?

Mar. I think not.

Pic. Ah, how it will distress him!

Mar. Certainly—and poor Angelica.

Pic. But Valerio?

Mar. Valerio—Valerio is here now; he will not go away. He is still in the apartment of Signor Dalancourt: encourages the brother, takes care of the sister, consoles Madame;—one weeps, another sighs, the other is in despair; all is in confusion.

Pic. Did you not promise to speak to my master?

Mar. Yes, I should have spoken to him, but he is too angry just now.

Pic. I am going to look for him, to carry him his cane.

Mar. Go; and if you see the tempest a little calmed, tell him something concerning the unhappy state of his nephew.

Pic. Yes, I'll speak to him, and I'll let you know what passes. [Opens the door softly, enters the room, and then shuts it.]

Mar. Yes, dear friend, go softly.—This Piccardo is an excellent young man, amiable, polite, obliging; he is the only person in the house to my liking. I do not so easily become friends with everybody.

Enter Dorval.

Dor. [In a low tone, and smiling.] Ah, Martuccia!

Mar. Your servant, sir.

Dor. Is Signor Geronte still angry?

Mar. It would not be strange if the storm were over. You know him better than any one else.

Dor. He is very angry with me.

Mar. With you, sir? He angry with you!

Dor. [Smiling.] There is no doubt of it; but it is nothing; I know him. I am sure as soon as we meet he will be the first to embrace me.

Mar. Nothing is more likely. He loves you, esteems you, you are his only friend. It is singular—he, a man always in a passion, and you—I say it with respect—the most tranquil man in the world.

Dor. It is exactly for this reason our friendship has continued so long.

Mar. Go and look for him.

Dor. No; it is too soon. I want first to see Angelica. Where is she?

Mar. With her brother. You know the misfortunes of her brother?

Dor. [With an expression of sorrow.] Ah, too well: everybody is talking of them.

Mar. And what do they say?

Dor. Don't ask me: the good pity him, the hard-hearted make a jest of him, and the ungrateful abandon him.

Mar. Oh, Heaven! And the poor girl?

Dor. Must I speak of her too?

Mar. May I ask how she will fare in this confusion? I take so much interest in her, that you ought to tell me.

Dor. [Smiling.] I have learned that one Valerio—

Mar. Ah, ah! Valerio!

Dor. Do you know him?

Mar. Very well, sir; it is all my own work.

Dor. So much the better; will you aid me?

Mar. Most willingly.

Dor. I must go and be certain if Angelica—

Mar. And also if Valerio—

Dor. Yes, I will go to him too.

Mar. Go then into Dalancourt's apartment; you will there kill two birds with one stone.

Dor. How?

Mar. He is there.

Dor. Valerio?

Mar. Yes.

Dor. I am glad of it; I will go at once.

Mar. Stop; shall I not tell him you are coming?

Dor. Good! such ceremony with my brother-in-law!

Mar. Your brother-in-law?

Dor. Yes.

Mar. How?

Dor. Do you not know?

Mar. Nothing at all.

Dor. Then you shall know another time. [Goes into Dalancourt's apartment.]

Mar. He is out of his senses.

Enter Geronte.

Ger. [Speaking while he is turning towards the door of his room.] Stop there, I will send the letter by some one else; stop there, it shall be so. [Turning to Martuccia.] Martuccia!

Mar. Sir?

Ger. Get a servant to take this letter directly to Dorval. [Turning towards the door of his apartment.] He is not well, he walks lame, and yet he would take it. [To Martuccia.] Go.

Mar. But, sir—

Ger. Well, let us hear.

Mar. But Dorval—

Ger. [Impatiently.] Yes, to Dorval's house.

Mar. He is here.

Ger. Who?

Mar. Dorval.

Ger. Where?

Mar. Here.

Ger. Dorval here?

Mar. Yes, sir.

Ger. Where is he?

Mar. In Signor Dalancourt's room.

Ger. [Angrily.] In Dalancourt's room! Dorval in Dalancourt's room! Now I see how it is, I understand it all. Go and tell Dorval from me—but no—I do not want you to go into that cursed room; if you set your foot in it, I will discharge you. Call one of the servants of that fellow—no, I don't want any of them—go yourself—yes, yes, tell him to come directly—do you hear?

Mar. Shall I go, or not go?

Ger. Go! don't make me more impatient. [Martuccia goes into Dalancourt's room.]

Geronte, alone.

Ger. Yes, it must be so; Dorval has discovered into what a terrible abyss this wretched man has fallen; yes, he knew it before I did, and if Piccardo had not told me, I should be still in the dark. It is exactly so. Dorval fears a connection with a ruined man; that is it. But I must look further into it to be more certain. Yet why not tell me? I would have persuaded him—I would have convinced him.—But why did he not tell me? He will say, perhaps, that my violence did not give him an opportunity. This is no excuse: he should have waited, he should not have gone away; my resentment would have been over, and he might have spoken to me. Unworthy, treacherous, perfidious nephew! you have sacrificed your happiness and your honour. I love you, culpable as you are. Yes, I love you too much; but I will discard you from my heart and from my thoughts. Go hence—go and perish in some other place. But where can he go? No matter, I'll think of him no more;—your sister alone interests me; she only deserves my tenderness, my kindness. Dorval is my friend; Dorval shall marry her. I will give them all my estate—I will leave the guilty to their punishment, but will never abandon the innocent.

Scene II.—Enter Dalancourt.

Dal. Ah, my uncle, hear me for pity's sake! [He throws himself in great agitation at Geronte's feet.]

Ger. [Sees Dalancourt, then draws back a little.] What do you want? Rise.

Dal. [In the same posture.] My dear uncle, you see the most unhappy of men; have mercy! listen to me!

Ger. [A little moved, but still in anger.] Rise, I say.

Dal. [On his knees.] You, who have a heart so generous, so feeling, will you abandon me for a fault which is the fault of love only, and an honest, virtuous love? I have certainly done wrong in not profiting by your advice, in disregarding your paternal tenderness; but, my dear uncle, in the name of your brother, to whom I owe my life, of that blood which flows in the veins of us both, let me move you—let me soften your feelings.

Ger. [By degrees relents, wipes his eyes, yet not letting Dalancourt see, and says in a low tone] What! you have still the courage?

Dal. It is not the loss of fortune that afflicts me; a sentiment more worthy of you oppresses me—my honour. Can you bear the disgrace of a nephew? I ask nothing of you; if I can preserve my reputation, I give you my word, for myself and my wife, that want shall have no terrors for us, if, in the midst of our misery, we can have the consolation of an unsullied character, our mutual love, and your affection and esteem.

Ger. Wretched man! you deserve—but I am weak; this foolish regard for blood speaks in favour of this ingrate. Rise, sir; I will pay your debts, and perhaps place you in a situation to contract others.

Dal. [Moved.] Ah, no, my uncle! I promise you, you shall see in my conduct hereafter—

Ger. What conduct, inconsiderate man? That of an infatuated husband who suffers himself to be guided by the caprices of his wife, a vain, presumptuous, thoughtless woman—

Dal. No, I swear to you, my wife is not in fault; you do not know her.

Ger. [Still more excited.] You defend her? You maintain what is false in my presence? Take care! but a little more, and on account of your wife I will retract my promise; yes, yes, I will retract it—you shall have nothing of mine. Your wife!—I cannot bear her. I will not see her.

Dal. Ah, my uncle, you tear my heart!

Enter Madame Dalancourt.

Mad. Ah, sir! you think me the cause of all the misfortunes of your nephew; it is right that I alone should bear the punishment. The ignorance in which I have lived till now, I see, is not a sufficient excuse in your eyes. Young, inexperienced, I have suffered myself to be guided by a husband who loved me. The world had attractions for me; evil examples seduced me. I was satisfied, and thought myself happy, but I am guilty in appearance, and that is enough. That my husband may be worthy of your kindness, I submit to your fatal decree. I will withdraw from your presence, yet I ask one favour of you: moderate your anger against me; pardon me—my youth—have compassion on my husband, whom too much love—

Ger. Ah, Madame, perhaps you think to overcome me?

Mad. Oh, Heaven! Is there no hope? Ah, my dear Dalancourt, I have then ruined you! I die. [Falls on a sofa.]

Ger. [Disturbed, moved with tenderness.] Hallo! who's there? Martuccia!

Enter Martuccia.

Mar. Here, sir.

Ger. Look there—quick—go—see to her; do something for her assistance.

Mar. My lady! What's the matter?

Ger. [Giving a phial to Martuccia.] Take it. Here's Cologne water. [To Dalancourt.] What is the matter?

Dal. Ah, my uncle!

Ger. [To Madame D., in a rough tone.] How are you?

Mad. [Rising languidly, and in a weak voice.] You are too kind, sir, to interest yourself in me. Do not mind my weakness—feelings will show themselves. I shall recover my strength. I will go, my—I will resign myself to my misfortunes.

Ger. [Affected, does not speak.]

Dal. [Distressed.] Ah, my uncle! can you suffer—

Ger. [With warmth to Dalancourt.] Be silent!—[To Madame D., roughly.] Remain in this house with your husband.

Mad. Ah, sir! ah!

Dal. [With transport.] Ah, my dear uncle!

Ger. [In a serious tone, but without anger, taking their hands.] Hear me: my savings are not on my own account; you would one day have known it. Make use of them now; the source is exhausted, and henceforth you must be prudent. If gratitude does not influence you, honour should at least keep you right.

Mad. Your goodness—

Dal. Your generosity—

Ger. Enough! enough!

Mar. Sir—

Ger. Do you be silent, babbler!

Mar. Now, sir, that you are in a humour for doing good, don't you mean to do something for Mademoiselle Angelica?

Ger. Well thought of. Where is she?

Mar. She is not far off.

Ger. And where is her betrothed?

Mar. Her betrothed?

Ger. He is perhaps offended at what I said, and will not see me. Is he gone?

Mar. Sir—her betrothed—he is still here.

Ger. Let him come in.

Mar. Angelica and her betrothed?

Ger. Yes, Angelica and her betrothed.

Mar. Admirable! Directly, sir, directly. [Going towards the door.] Come, come, my children; have no fear.

Enter Valerio, Dorval, and Angelica.

Ger. [Seeing Valerio.] What's this? What is this other man doing here?

Mar. They are, sir, the betrothed and the witness.

Ger. [To Angelica.] Come here.

Ang. [Trembling, speaking to Madame D.] Ah, sister! I ought indeed to ask your pardon.

Mar. And I too, Madame.

Ger. [To Dorval.] Come here, Signor Betrothed. What say you? Are you still angry? Will you not come?

Dor. Do you speak to me?

Ger. Yes, to you.

Dor. Pardon me, I am only the witness.

Ger. The witness!

Dor. Yes. I will explain the mystery. If you had permitted me to speak—

Ger. The mystery! [To Angelica.] Is there any mystery?

Dor. [Serious, and in a resolute tone.] Hear me, friends: you know Valerio; he was informed of the misfortune of the family, and had come to offer his fortune to Dalancourt, and his hand to Angelica. He loves her, and is ready to marry her with nothing, and to settle on her an annuity of twelve thousand livres. Your character is known to me, and that you delight in good actions. I have detained him here, and have undertaken to present him.

Ger. You had no attachment, eh? You have deceived me. I will not consent that you shall have him. This is a contrivance on both your parts, and I will never submit to it.

Ang. [Weeping.] My dear uncle!

Val. [In a warm and suppliant manner.] Sir!

Dor. You are so good!

Mad. You are so generous!

Mar. My dear master!

Ger. Plague on my disposition! I cannot continue angry as long as I would. I could willingly beat myself. [All together repeat their entreaties, and surround him.] Be silent! let me alone! May the devil take you all! let him marry her.

Mar. [Earnestly.] Let him marry her without a portion!

Ger. What, without a portion! I marry my niece without a portion! Am I not in a situation to give her a portion? I know Valerio; the generous action he has just proposed deserves a reward. Yes, let him have her portion, and the hundred thousand livres I have promised Angelica.

Val. What kindness!

Ang. What goodness!

Mad. What a heart!

Dal. What an example!

Mar. Bless my master!

Dor. Bless my good friend!

[All surround him, overwhelm him with caresses, and repeat his praises.]

Ger. [Trying to rid himself of them, shouts] Peace! peace! Piccardo!

Enter Piccardo.

Pic. Here, sir.

Ger. We shall sup in my room; all are invited. Dorval, in the meantime we'll have a game of chess.

END.