plays [73]
it.
Hand me up that pile of plates. The quinces there, before the
bride. Stick a pink in the Notary's glass: that's the girl he's
courting.
DUMONT (ENTERING; WITH CHARLES). Good girls, good girls!
Charles, in ten minutes from now what happy faces will smile
around that board!
CHARLES. Sir, my good fortune is complete; and most of all in
this, that my happiness has made my father happy.
DUMONT. Your father? Ah, well, upon that point we shall have
more to say.
CHARLES. What more remains that has not been said already? For
surely, sir, there are few sons more fortunate in their father:
and, since you approve of this marriage, may I not conceive you
to be in that sense fortunate in your son?
DUMONT. Dear boy, there is always a variety of considerations.
But the moment is ill chosen for dispute; to-night, at least, let
our felicity be unalloyed. (LOOKING OFF L. C.) Our guests
arrive: here is our good Curate, and here our cheerful Notary.
CHARLES. His old infirmity, I fear.
DUMONT. But Charles - dear boy! - at your wedding feast! I
should have taken it unneighbourly had he come strictly sober.
SCENE II
To these, by the door L. C., the CURATE and the NOTARY, arm in
arm; the latter owl-like and titubant.
CURATE. Peace be on this house!
NOTARY (SINGING). 'Prove an excuse for the glass.'
DUMONT. Welcome, excellent neighbours! The Church and the Law.
CURATE. And you, Charles, let me hope your feelings are in
solemn congruence with this momentous step.
NOTARY (DIGGING CHARLES IN THE RIBS). Married? Lovely bride?
Prove an excuse!
DUMONT (TO CURATE). I fear our friend? perhaps? as usual? eh?
CURATE. Possibly: I had not yet observed it.
DUMONT. Well, well, his heart is good.
CURATE. He doubtless meant it kindly.
NOTARY. Where's Aline?
ALINE. Coming, sir! (NOTARY MAKES FOR HER.)
CURATE (CAPTURING HIM). You will infallibly expose yourself to
misconstruction. (TO CHARLES.) Where is your commanding
officer?
CHARLES. Why, sir, we have quite an alert. Information has been
received from Lyons that the notorious malefactor, Robert
Macaire, has broken prison, and the Brigadier is now scouring the
country in his pursuit. I myself am instructed to watch the
visitors to our house.
DUMONT. That will do, Charles: you may go. (EXIT CHARLES.)
You have considered the case I laid before you?
NOTARY. Considered a case?
DUMONT. Yes, yes. Charles, you know, Charles. Can he marry?
under these untoward and peculiar circumstances, can he marry?
NOTARY. Now, lemme tell you: marriage is a contract to which
there are two constracting parties. That being clear, I am
prepared to argue categorically that your son Charles - who, it
appears, is not your son Charles - I am prepared to argue that
one party to a contract being null and void, the other party to a
contract cannot by law oblige or constrain the first party to
constract or bind himself to any contract, except the other party
be able to see his way clearly to constract himself with him. I
donno if I make myself clear?
DUMONT. No.
NOTARY. Now, lemme tell you: by applying justice of peace might
possibly afford relief.
DUMONT. But how?
NOTARY. Ay, there's the rub.
DUMONT. But what am I to do? He's not my son, I tell you:
Charles is not my son.
NOTARY. I know.
DUMONT. Perhaps a glass of wine would clear him?
NOTARY. That's what I want. (THEY GO OUT, L. U. E.)
ALINE. And now, if you've done deranging my table, to the cellar
for the wine, the whole pack of you. (MANET SOLA, CONSIDERING
TABLE.) There: it's like a garden. If I had as sweet a table
for my wedding, I would marry the Notary.
SCENE III
The Stage remains vacant. Enter, by door L. C., MACAIRE,
followed by BERTRAND with bundle; in the traditional costume.
MACAIRE. Good! No police.
BERTRAND (LOOKING OFF, L. C.). Sold again!
MACAIRE. This is a favoured spot, Bertrand: ten minutes from
the frontier: ten
Hand me up that pile of plates. The quinces there, before the
bride. Stick a pink in the Notary's glass: that's the girl he's
courting.
DUMONT (ENTERING; WITH CHARLES). Good girls, good girls!
Charles, in ten minutes from now what happy faces will smile
around that board!
CHARLES. Sir, my good fortune is complete; and most of all in
this, that my happiness has made my father happy.
DUMONT. Your father? Ah, well, upon that point we shall have
more to say.
CHARLES. What more remains that has not been said already? For
surely, sir, there are few sons more fortunate in their father:
and, since you approve of this marriage, may I not conceive you
to be in that sense fortunate in your son?
DUMONT. Dear boy, there is always a variety of considerations.
But the moment is ill chosen for dispute; to-night, at least, let
our felicity be unalloyed. (LOOKING OFF L. C.) Our guests
arrive: here is our good Curate, and here our cheerful Notary.
CHARLES. His old infirmity, I fear.
DUMONT. But Charles - dear boy! - at your wedding feast! I
should have taken it unneighbourly had he come strictly sober.
SCENE II
To these, by the door L. C., the CURATE and the NOTARY, arm in
arm; the latter owl-like and titubant.
CURATE. Peace be on this house!
NOTARY (SINGING). 'Prove an excuse for the glass.'
DUMONT. Welcome, excellent neighbours! The Church and the Law.
CURATE. And you, Charles, let me hope your feelings are in
solemn congruence with this momentous step.
NOTARY (DIGGING CHARLES IN THE RIBS). Married? Lovely bride?
Prove an excuse!
DUMONT (TO CURATE). I fear our friend? perhaps? as usual? eh?
CURATE. Possibly: I had not yet observed it.
DUMONT. Well, well, his heart is good.
CURATE. He doubtless meant it kindly.
NOTARY. Where's Aline?
ALINE. Coming, sir! (NOTARY MAKES FOR HER.)
CURATE (CAPTURING HIM). You will infallibly expose yourself to
misconstruction. (TO CHARLES.) Where is your commanding
officer?
CHARLES. Why, sir, we have quite an alert. Information has been
received from Lyons that the notorious malefactor, Robert
Macaire, has broken prison, and the Brigadier is now scouring the
country in his pursuit. I myself am instructed to watch the
visitors to our house.
DUMONT. That will do, Charles: you may go. (EXIT CHARLES.)
You have considered the case I laid before you?
NOTARY. Considered a case?
DUMONT. Yes, yes. Charles, you know, Charles. Can he marry?
under these untoward and peculiar circumstances, can he marry?
NOTARY. Now, lemme tell you: marriage is a contract to which
there are two constracting parties. That being clear, I am
prepared to argue categorically that your son Charles - who, it
appears, is not your son Charles - I am prepared to argue that
one party to a contract being null and void, the other party to a
contract cannot by law oblige or constrain the first party to
constract or bind himself to any contract, except the other party
be able to see his way clearly to constract himself with him. I
donno if I make myself clear?
DUMONT. No.
NOTARY. Now, lemme tell you: by applying justice of peace might
possibly afford relief.
DUMONT. But how?
NOTARY. Ay, there's the rub.
DUMONT. But what am I to do? He's not my son, I tell you:
Charles is not my son.
NOTARY. I know.
DUMONT. Perhaps a glass of wine would clear him?
NOTARY. That's what I want. (THEY GO OUT, L. U. E.)
ALINE. And now, if you've done deranging my table, to the cellar
for the wine, the whole pack of you. (MANET SOLA, CONSIDERING
TABLE.) There: it's like a garden. If I had as sweet a table
for my wedding, I would marry the Notary.
SCENE III
The Stage remains vacant. Enter, by door L. C., MACAIRE,
followed by BERTRAND with bundle; in the traditional costume.
MACAIRE. Good! No police.
BERTRAND (LOOKING OFF, L. C.). Sold again!
MACAIRE. This is a favoured spot, Bertrand: ten minutes from
the frontier: ten