Comedy of Marriage and Other Tales

JEAN [approaches the cradle and lifts the little curtain, takes up the child and kisses it on the mouth; then lays it down again]

He is a splendid boy!

DR. PELLERIN

A very pretty child.

MME. FLACHE

A superb morsel – one of my prettiest.

JEAN [in a low voice]

And Musotte, how is she?

MUSOTTE [who has heard him]

I, – I am almost lost. I know surely that all is over. [To Jean.] Take that little chair, dear, and seat yourself near me, and let us talk as long as I am able to speak. I have so many things to say to you, for we shall never be together any more. I am so glad to see you again that nothing else now seems of any importance.

JEAN [approaching her] Don’t agitate yourself. Don’t get excited.

MUSOTTE

How can I help being agitated at seeing you again?

JEAN [sits on the low chair, takes Musotte’s hand]

My poor Musotte, I cannot tell you what a shock it was to me when I learned just now that you were so ill.

MUSOTTE

And on this day of all days! It must have shocked you greatly.

JEAN

What! Do you know of it then?

MUSOTTE

Yes, since I felt so ill, I kept myself informed about you every day, in order that I might not pass away without having seen you and spoken to you again, for I have so much to say to you. [At a sign from Jean, Mme. Flache, Pellerin, and La Babin exit R.]

SCENE IV

(Musotte and Jean.)

MUSOTTE

Then you received the letter?

JEAN

Yes.

MUSOTTE

And you came immediately?

JEAN

Certainly.

MUSOTTE

Thanks – ah! thanks. I hesitated a long time before warning you – hesitated even this morning, but I heard the midwife talking with the nurse and learned that to-morrow perhaps it might be too late, so I sent Doctor Pellerin to call you immediately.

JEAN

Why didn’t you call me sooner?

MUSOTTE

I never thought that my illness would become so serious. I did not wish to trouble your life.

JEAN [points to the cradle]

But that child! How is it that I was not told of this sooner?

MUSOTTE

You would never have known it, if his birth had not killed me. I would have spared you this pain – this cloud upon your life. When you left me, you gave me enough to live upon. Everything was over between us; and besides, at any other moment than this, would you believe me if I said to you: “This is your child?”

JEAN

Yes, I have never doubted you.

MUSOTTE

You are as good as ever, my Jean. No, no, I am not lying to you; he is yours, that little one there. I swear it to you on my deathbed; I swear it to you before God!

JEAN

I have already told you that I believed you. I have always believed you.

MUSOTTE

Listen, this is all that has happened. As soon as you left me, I became very ill. I suffered so much that I thought I was going to die. The doctor ordered a change of air. You remember, it was in the spring. I went to Saint-Malo – to that old relative, of whom I have often talked to you.

JEAN

Yes, yes.

MUSOTTE

It was in Saint-Malo, after some days, that I realized that you had left me a pledge of your affection. My first desire was to tell you everything, for I knew that you were an honest man – that you would have recognized this child, perhaps even have given up your marriage; but I would not have had you do that. All was over; was it not? – and it was better that it should be so. I knew that I could never be your wife [smiles], Musotte, me, Madame Martinel – oh, no!

JEAN

My poor, dear girl. How brutal and hard we men are, without thinking of it and without wishing to be so!

MUSOTTE

Don’t say that. I was not made for you. I was only a little model; and you, you were a rising artist, and I never thought that you would belong to me forever. [Jean sheds tears.] No, no, don’t cry; you have nothing to reproach yourself with. You have always been so good to me. It is only God who has been cruel to me.

JEAN

Musotte!

MUSOTTE

Let me go on. I remained at Saint-Malo without revealing my condition. Then I came back to Paris, and here some months afterward the little one was born – the child! When I fully understood what had happened to me, I experienced at first such fear; yes, such fear! Then I remembered that he was bone of your bone, and flesh of your flesh; that you had given him life, and that he was a pledge from you. But one is so stupid when one knows nothing. One’s ideas change just as one’s moods change, and I became contented all at once; contented with the thought that I would bring him up, that he would grow to be a man, that he would call me mother. [Weeps.] Now, he will never call me mother. He will never put his little arms around my neck, because I am going to leave him; because I am going away – I don’t know where; but there, where everybody goes. Oh, God! My God!

JEAN

Calm yourself, my little Musotte. Would you be able to speak as you do speak if you were as ill as you think you are?

MUSOTTE

You do not see that the fever is burning within me; that I am losing my head, and don’t know longer what I say.

JEAN

No, no; please calm yourself.

MUSOTTE

Pet me; pet me, Jean, and you will calm me.

JEAN [kisses her hair; then resumes]

There, there; don’t speak any more for a minute or two. Let us remain quietly here near each other.

MUSOTTE

But I must speak to you; I have so many things to say to you yet, and do not know how to say them. My head is beyond my control. Oh, my God! how shall I do it? [Raises herself, looks around her and sees the cradle.] Ah, yes, I know; I recollect, it is he, my child. Tell me, Jean, what will you do with him? You know that I am an orphan, and when I am gone he will be here all alone – alone in the world! Poor little thing! Listen, Jean, my head is quite clear now. I shall understand very well what you answer me now, and the peace of my closing moments depends upon it. I have no one to leave the little one to but you.

JEAN

I promise you that I will take him, look after him, and bring him up.

MUSOTTE

As a father?

JEAN

As a father.

MUSOTTE

You have already seen him?

JEAN

Yes.

MUSOTTE

Go and look at him again. [Jean goes over to the cradle.]

JEAN

He is pretty, isn’t he?

MUSOTTE

Everybody says so. Look at him, the poor little darling, who has enjoyed only a few days of life as yet. He belongs to us. You are his father; I am his mother, but soon he will have a mother no more. [In anguish.] Promise me that he shall always have a father.

JEAN [goes over to her]

I promise it, my darling!

MUSOTTE

A true father, who will always love him well?

JEAN I promise it.

MUSOTTE

You will be good – very good – to him?

JEAN

I swear it to you!

MUSOTTE

And then, there is something else – but I dare not —

JEAN

Tell it to me.

MUSOTTE

Since I came back to Paris, I have sought to see you without being seen by you, and I have seen you three times. Each time you were with her – with your sweetheart, your wife, and with a gentleman – her father, I think. Oh, how I looked at her! I asked myself: “Will she love him as I have loved him? Will she make him happy? Is she good?” Tell me, do you really believe she is very good?

JEAN

Yes, darling, I believe it.

MUSOTTE

You are very certain of it?

JEAN

Yes, indeed.

MUSOTTE

And I thought so, too, simply from seeing her pass by. She is so pretty! I have been a little jealous, and I wept on coming back. But what are you going to do now as between her and your son?

JEAN

I shall do my duty.

MUSOTTE

Your duty? Does that mean by her or by him?

JEAN

By him.

MUSOTTE

Listen, Jean: when I am no more, ask your wife from me, from the mouth of a dead woman, to adopt him, this dear little morsel of humanity-to love him as I would have loved him; to be a mother to him in my stead. If she is tender and kind, she will consent. Tell her how you saw me suffer – that my last prayer, my last supplication on earth was offered up for her. Will you do this?

JEAN

I promise you that I will.

MUSOTTE

Ah! How good you are! Now I fear nothing; my poor little darling is safe, and I am happy and calm. Ah, how calm I am! You didn’t know, did you, that I called him Jean, after you? That does not displease you, does it?

JEAN [weeps]

No, no!

MUSOTTE

You weep – so you still love me a little, Jean? Ah, how I thank you for this! But if I only could live; it must be possible. I feel so much better since you came here, and since you have promised me all that I have asked you. Give me your hand. At this moment I can recall all our life together, and I am content – almost gay; in fact, I can laugh – see, I can laugh, though I don’t know why. [Laughs.]

JEAN

Oh, calm yourself for my sake, dear little Musotte.

MUSOTTE

If you could only understand how recollections throng upon me. Do you remember that I posed for your “Mendiante,” for your “Violet Seller,” for your “Guilty Woman,” which won for you your first medal? And do you remember the breakfast at Ledoyen’s on Varnishing Day? There were more than twenty-five at a table intended for ten. What follies we committed, especially that little, little – what did he call himself – I mean that little comic fellow, who was always making portraits which resembled no one? Oh, yes, Tavernier! And you took me home with you to your studio, where you had two great manikins which frightened me so, and I called to you, and you came in to reassure me. Oh, how heavenly all that was! Do you remember? [Laughs again.] Oh, if that life could only begin over again! [Cries suddenly.] Ah, what pain! [To Jean, who is going for the doctor.] No, stay, stay! [Silence. A sudden change comes over her face.] See, Jean, what glorious weather! If you like, we will take the baby for a sail on a river steamboat; that will be so jolly! I love those little steamboats; they are so pretty. They glide over the water quickly and without noise. Now that I am your wife, I can assert myself – I am armed. Darling, I never thought that you would marry me. And look at our little one – how pretty he is, and how he grows! He is called Jean after you. And I – I have my two little Jeans – mine – altogether mine! You don’t know how happy I am. And the little one walks to-day for the first time! [Laughs aloud, with her arms stretched out, pointing to the child which she thinks is before her.]

JEAN [weeps]

Musotte! Musotte! Don’t you know me?

MUSOTTE

Indeed I know you! Am I not your wife? Kiss me, darling. Kiss me, my little one.

JEAN [takes her in his arms, weeping and repeating]

Musotte! Musotte! [Musotte rises upon her couch, and with a gesture to Jean points to the cradle, toward which he goes, nodding “Yes, yes,” with his head. When Jean reaches the cradle, Musotte, who has raised herself upon her hands, falls lifeless upon the long steamer-chair. Jean, frightened, calls out] Pellerin! Pellerin!

SCENE V

(The same: Pellerin, Mme. Flache, and La Babin, enter quickly R.)

PELLERIN [who has gone swiftly to Musotte, feels her pulse and listens at the heart]

Her heart is not beating! Give me a mirror, Madame Flache.

JEAN

My God! [Mme. Flache gives a hand-mirror to Pellerin, who holds it before the lips of Musotte, Pause.]

PELLERIN [in a low voice]

She is dead!

JEAN [takes the dead woman’s hand and kisses it fondly, his voice choked with emotion]

Farewell, my dear little Musotte! To think that a moment ago you were speaking to me – a moment ago you were looking at me, you saw me, and now – all is over!

PELLERIN [goes to Jean and takes him by the shoulder]

Now, you must go at once. Go! You have nothing more to do here. Your duty is over.

JEAN [rises]

I go. Farewell, poor little Musotte!

PELLERIN

I will take care of everything this evening. But the child, do you wish me to find an asylum for him?

JEAN

Oh, no, I will take him. I have sworn it to that poor, dead darling. Come and join me immediately at my house, and bring him with you. Then I shall have another service to request of you. But how about Musotte, who is going to remain with her?

MME. FLACHE

I, Monsieur. Have no anxiety; I am acquainted with all that must be done.

JEAN

Thank you, Madame. [Approaches the bed; closes Musotte’s eyes and kisses her fondly and for a long time upon her forehead.] Farewell, Musotte, forever! [Goes softly to the cradle, removes the veil, kisses the child and speaks to it in a firm voice which at the same time is full of tears.] I shall see you again directly, my little Jean!

[Exit quickly].

ACT III

SCENE I

(Same setting as in Act I.)

(Monsieur de Petitpré, Mme. de Ronchard, M. Martinel, and Léon.)

MME. DE RONCHARD [walks about in an agitated manner]

Seven minutes to midnight! It is nearly two hours since Jean left us!

LEON [seated L.]

But, my dear Aunt, just allow a half hour in the carriage for going and a half hour for returning, and there remains just one hour for the business he had to attend to.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Was it so very long, then – the business that called him hence?

LEON

Yes, my dear Aunt; and now, why worry yourself by counting the minutes? Your agitation will change nothing in the end, and will not hasten Jean’s return by a single second, or make the hands of the clock move more quickly.

MME. DE RONCHARD

How can you ask me not to worry when my mind is full of anxiety, when my heart is beating, and I feel the tears rising into my eyes?

LÉON

But, my dear Aunt, you know very well you do not feel as badly as that.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Oh, you irritate me!

MARTINEL [seated near the table]

Don’t torment yourself, Madame. True, the situation is a rather delicate one, but it need not disquiet you or frighten us, if we know how to bring to its consideration at this moment coolness and reason.

LÉON

Just so, my dear Aunt, Monsieur Martinel speaks truly.

MME. DE RONCHARD [crosses R.]

You ought to be beaten, you two! You know everything, and won’t tell anything. How annoying men are! There is never any means of making them tell a secret.

MARTINEL

Jean will come presently and will tell you everything. Have a little patience.

PETITPRÉ

Yes; let us be calm. Let us talk of other things, or be silent, if we can.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Be silent! That is about, the most difficult thing —

A SERVANT [enters R.]

A gentleman wishes to see M. Martinel.

MARTINEL [rises.]

Pardon me for a moment. [To the servant.] Very well, I am coming. [Exit R.]

SCENE II

MME. DE RONCHARD [approaches servant quickly]

Baptiste, Baptiste! Who is asking for M. Martinel?

SERVANT

I do not know, Madame. It was the hall porter who came upstairs.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Well, run now and look without showing yourself, and come back and tell us at once.

PETITPRÉ [who has risen at the entrance of the servant]

No, I will permit no spying; let us wait. We shall not have to wait long now. [To the servant.] You may go. [Exit servant.]

MME. DE RONCHARD [to Petitpré]

I do not understand you at all. You are absolutely calm. One would think that your daughter’s happiness was nothing to you. For myself, I am profoundly agitated.

PETITPRÉ

That will do no good. [Sits near the table R.] Let us talk – talk reasonably, now that we are a family party and Monsieur Martinel is absent.

MME. DE RONCHARD [Sits R.]

If that man would only go back to Havre!

LÉON [Sits L. of table]

That would not change anything even if he could go back to Havre.

PETITPRÉ

For my part, I think —

MME. DE RONCHARD [interrupts]

Do you wish to hear my opinion? Well, I think that they are preparing us for some unpleasant surprise; that they wish to entrap us, as one might say.

PETITPRÉ

But why? In whose interest? Jean Martinel is an honest man, and he loves my child. Léon, whose judgment I admire, although he is my son —

LEON

Thank you, father!

PETITPRÉ

Léon bears Jean as much affection as esteem. As to the uncle —

MME. DE RONCHARD

Don’t talk about them, I pray. It is this woman who is seeking to entrap us. She has played some little comedy, and she chooses to-day above all others for its dénouement. It is her stage climax; her masterpiece of treachery.

LÉON

As in “The Ambigu.”

MME. DE RONCHARD

Do not laugh. I know these women. I have suffered enough at their hands.

PETITPRÉ

Oh, my poor Clarisse; if you really understood them, you would have held your husband better than you did.

MME. DE RONCHARD [rises]

What do you mean by “understanding” them? Pardon me – to live with that roisterer coming in upon me when and whence he pleased – I prefer my broken life and my loneliness – with you!

PETITPRÉ

No doubt you are right from your point of view of a married woman; but there are other points of view, perhaps less selfish and certainly superior, such as that of family interest.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Of family interest, indeed? Do you mean to say that I was wrong from the point of view of the family interest – you, a magistrate!

PETITPRÉ

My duties as a magistrate have made me very prudent, for I have seen pass under my eyes many equivocal and terrible situations, which not only agonized my conscience but gave me many cruel hours of indecision. Man is often so little responsible and circumstances are often so powerful. Our impenetrable nature is so capricious, our instincts are so mysterious that we must be tolerant and even indulgent in the presence of faults which are not really crimes, and which exhibit nothing vicious or abandoned in the man himself.

MME. DE RONCHARD

So, then, to deceive one’s wife is not deceitful, and you say such a thing before your son? Truly, a pretty state of affairs! [Crosses L.]

LÉON

Oh, I have my opinion also about that, my dear Aunt.

PETITPRÉ [rises]

It is not almost a crime, – it is one. But it is looked upon to-day as so common a thing that one scarcely punishes it at all. It is punished by divorce, which is a house of refuge for most men. The law prefers to separate them with decency – timidly, rather than drag them apart as in former times.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Your learned theories are revolting, and I wish —

LÉON [rises]

Ah, here is Monsieur Martinel.

SCENE III

(The same, and Monsieur Martinel.)

MARTINEL [with great emotion]

I come to fulfill an exceedingly difficult task. Jean, who has gone to his own house, before daring to present himself here, has sent Doctor Pellerin to me. I am commissioned by him to make you acquainted with the sad position in which Jean finds himself, – in which we all find ourselves.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Ah, ha! Now, I am going to learn something!

MARTINEL

By a letter which you will read presently, we have learned this evening, in this house, of a new misfortune. A woman of whose existence you are all aware was at the point of death.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Did I not predict that she would do just this thing?

LÉON

Let M. Martinel speak, my dear Aunt.

MME. DE RONCHARD

And now that this woman has seen him, how does she feel – his dying patient? Better, without a doubt?

MARTINEL [quietly]

She died, Madame, died before his eyes.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Died this evening! Impossible!

MARTINEL

Nevertheless, it is so, Madame.

LÉON [aside]

Poor little Musotte!

MARTINEL

There is a serious thing to be considered here. This woman left a child, and that child’s father is Jean.

MME. DE RONCHARD [stupefied]

A child!

MARTINEL [to Petitpré]

Read the physician’s letter, Monsieur. [Hands Petitpré the letter, and Petitpré reads it.]

MME. DE RONCHARD

He had a child and he has never confessed it; has never said anything about it; has hidden it from us! What infamy!

MARTINEL

He would have told you in due time.

MME. DE RONCHARD

He would have told! That is altogether too strong – you are mocking us!

LÉON

But, my dear Aunt, let my father answer. I shall go and find Gilberte. She will be dying of anxiety. We have no right to hide the truth from her any longer. I am going to acquaint her with it.

MME. DE RONCHARD [accompanying him to the door]

You have a pleasant task, but you will not succeed in arranging matters.

LÉON [at door L.]

In any case I shall not embroil them with each other as you would.

[Exit L.]

SCENE IV

(Petitpré, Martinel, and Madame de Ronchard.)

PETITPRÉ [who has finished reading the letter]

Then, Martinel, you say that your nephew was ignorant of the situation of this woman.

MARTINEL

Upon my honor.

MME. DE RONCHARD

It is incredible.

MARTINEL

I will answer you in a word. If my nephew had known of this situation, would he have done what he has this evening?

PETITPRÉ

Explain yourself more clearly.

MARTINEL

It is very simple. If he had known sooner of the danger this woman was in, do you think that he would have waited until the last moment, and have chosen this very evening – this supreme moment – to say good-bye to this poor, dying woman, and to reveal to you the existence of his illegitimate son? No, men hide these unfortunate children when and how they please. You know that as well as I, Monsieur. To run the risk of throwing us all into such a state of emotion and threatening his own future, as he has done, it would seem that Jean must be a madman, and he is by no means that. Had he known sooner of this situation, do you think that he would not have confided in me, and that I would have been so stupid – yes, I – as not to avert this disaster? Why, I tell you it is as clear as day.

MME. DE RONCHARD [agitated, walks to and fro rapidly L.]

Clear as the day – clear as the day!

MARTINEL

Yes, indeed. If we had not received this piece of news as a bomb which destroys the power of reflection, if we could have taken time to reason the thing out, to make plans, we could have hidden everything from you, and the devil would have been in it before you would have known anything! Our fault has been that of being too sincere and too loyal. Yet, I do not regret it; it is always better to act openly in life.

MME. DE RONCHARD

Permit me, Monsieur —

PETITPRÉ

Silence, Clarisse. [To Martinel.] Be it so, Monsieur. There is no question of your honor or of your loyalty, which have been absolutely patent in this unfortunate affair. I willingly admit that your nephew knew nothing of the situation, but how about the child? What is there to prove that it is Jean’s?

MARTINEL

Jean alone can prove or disprove that. He believes it, and you know that it is not to his interest to believe it. There is nothing very joyful about such a complication – a poor, little foundling thrusting himself upon one like a thunderbolt, without warning, and upon the very evening of one’s marriage. But Jean believes that the child is his, and I – and all of us – must we not accept it as he has accepted it, as the child’s father has accepted it? Come, now. [A short silence.] You ask me to prove to you that this child belongs to Jean?