Collected Works (Vol. III)

THE SIRE DE MALETROIT’S DOOR 79 to have your interesting relics kicking their heels from my battlements [jerks Azs thumod toward the window), if I cannot wipe out the dishonour, I shall at least stop the scandal. DENYS. Frankly, sir, I think your troubles must have turned your brain; there are other ways of settling such imbroglios among gentlemen. ALAIN. Alas, sir! Tam old. When I was younger I should have been delighted to honour you ; but Iam the sole male member of my ancient house. Faithful retainers are the sinews of age, and I were a fool did I not employ the strength I have. DENYS. Oh, hang me now, and have done with it ! ALAIN. No haste. An hour of life is always— an hour. And though one half that time is nigh lapsed already, yet—if you will give me your word of honour to do nothing desperate, and to await my return before you fling yourself from the window,—or, as I guess, —on the pikes of my retainers, I will with- draw myself and them that you may talk in greater privacy with the Lady Blanche. I fought at Arcy, and know what wonders may happen in an hour. [DENYS ‘furas bitterly, almost savagely, toward BLANCHE.| You will not disfigure your last hour by want of politeness to a lady? [DENYS flushes, accepts the rebuke, bows to both and says simply: DENYS. I give you my word of honour. [//zs deciston ts not uncoloured by the pathetic petitioning of the mute SLANCIIE, ALAIN, I thank you, sir; then I will leave you. [Zurns to go, stops.| Sir, you are young, you think me a hard man, and perhaps a coward. Remember, pray, that the tears of age are frozen at the heart ere they can spring to the eyes. You may yet think better of the lonely old Sire de Malétroit, and the honour of his house may one day be your own. [Axzt. [BLANCHE comes over to DENYS, who remains leaning heavily on the table. BLANCHE. Oh, sir, how cruelly have I done in my girl’s folly, to bring a gallant gentleman to such a pass. DENYS. Ah ! life isa little thing, fairlady. [Szgzs, gradually getting pleased with himself as a martyr.| My mother is married again—she needs neither my arm nor my affection; my brother Guichard will inherit my fiefs, and unless [am mistaken, that will console him amply for my death: as for my father— why, I go to join him in an hour. Ay! lady, we are soon forgotten. It is barely ten years since he fell, fighting desperately, with many noble gentlemen around him, and—to-day—I doubt me if the very name of the battle lingers in men’s minds! I go to join him in an hour. BLANCHE. [Szghs.] Ay! sir, you speak sad, but you speak true. DENYS, Will there be memory ¢here? [Denys now fancies himself as a philosopher.| For I would not marry you—nay! not though I loved you with my soul. In an hour you will be rid of me.