Collected Works (Vol. III)

2 A DRAMATIC VERSION OF SCENE III Zhe SRE DE MALErroir as 72 Scene J. fle ts standing alert and intent, listen- wns. From below are growls and mut- fered curses ; then a sharp sound like the snapping of a sword. ALAIN, Amat janua limen! (Closes book.| Now, my friend, whoever you are—for your charming letter does not mention your honourable name—we shall very soon have the pleasure of seeing you. ‘ Embrace of the eyes,” eh? You distrust my door already, eh? Why do you knock so? [Great noise below.) No honester crafts- man ever built a door—you waste time! Why so reluctant to move from the cold night to the ‘‘ blush of an alabaster brow,” and the rest of your accursed troubadour’s jargon, to a bliss you little expect. “‘ Gratia cum Nymphis geminisque sororibus audet ducere nuda choros.” But your choros, Blanche, is but your old uncle, who per- haps loves you better than you think just now. [ad sound of suppressed sobbing from the Chapel.) Ah! you may weep if you will—but what choice have you left me? And Lord! Lord! what could a loving heart ask more? [Stswbling on steps, and a muttering, ‘* Perdition catch the fool who invented these ctreular statrs.’| Ha! He seems a little uncertain of the stair. Hush! [Auter DENYS, who remains behind arrvas, ALAIN Szés, DENYS. [|Stambles and swears.) O these stairs! They go round and round, or seem to go round—faith! I have seen an entire castle do as much—and lead nowhere. [Pushes against arras and ts seen by audience. He hastily withdraws.] Oh, they do though! Shall I knock? Shall I go in? Shal. I stay here till morning? There are three fools there, and I have a poor choice: to _ knock is polite, to wait is polite, and to introduce my charming self is the politest of all. [Peeps z2.] Can’t see anybody! It’s clearly a gentleman’s house—and a fool he is to leave his postern door ajar. Whoever he is, he can hardly blame me for a _ mis- adventure—and a curious tale is a passport the world over. Well, let me go in! To go in boldly is to slap Luck the courtezan on the shoulder, and ’tis Venus o’ the dice- box to an ace and a deuce but she call me a tall fellow of my hands and bid me sit to supper. Warily now!... [Pushes past arras. ALAIN. Good evening, good evening, my dear young friend. Welcome, very welcome! Come to the fire, man, and warm your- self. ‘‘ Jam satis terris nivis,”—if you know your Horace as you know your Ovid, we shall get along splendidly. [DENYS stands stupefied. A\.AIN watts, DENYs., I fear, sir, I don’t know my Ovid. [Vth the air of one primed to repeat a lesson.) I beg a thousand pardons, Monsieur. ALAIN, Don’t apologise, don’t apologise. I’ve been expecting you all the evening. DENYS, Excuse me, sir, there is some mistake— ! ALAIN. No! No! There is no mistake. Be at ease, my young friend. DENYS. [Shrwuos his shoulders.| But I had no wish to be here—er—er !—Nothing was further from my thoughts than this most unwarrantable intrusion.