plays [80]
humble fellow . . . have I
introduced him? You behold in us the embodiment of aristocracy
and democracy. Bertrand, shake hands with my family. (BERTRAND
IS REBUFFED BY ONE AND THE OTHER IN DEAD SILENCE.)
BERTRAND. Sold again!
MACAIRE. Charles, to my arms! (BUSINESS.)
ERNESTINE. Well, but now that he has a father of some kind,
cannot the marriage go on?
MACAIRE. Angel, this very night: I burn to take my grandchild
on my knees.
GORIOT. Be you that young man's veyther?
MACAIRE. Ay, and what a father!
GORIOT. Then all I've got to say is, I shan't and I wun't.
MACAIRE. Ah, friends, friends, what a satisfaction it is, what a
sight is virtue! I came among you in this poor attire to test
you; how nobly have you borne the test! But my disguise begins
to irk me: who will lend me a good suit? (BUSINESS.)
SCENE III
To these, the MARQUIS, L. C.
MARQUIS. Is this the house of John Paul Dumont, once of Lyons?
DUMONT. It is, sir, and I am he, at your disposal.
MARQUIS. I am the Marquis Villers-Cotterets de la Cherte de
Medoc. (SENSATION.)
MACAIRE. Marquis, delighted, I am sure.
MARQUIS (TO DUMONT). I come, as you perceive, unfollowed; my
errand, therefore, is discreet. I come (PRODUCING NOTES FROM
BREAST-POCKET) equipped with thirty thousand francs; my errand,
therefore, must be generous. Can you not guess?
DUMONT. Not I, my lord.
MARQUIS (REPEATING). 'Preserve this letter,' etc.
MACAIRE. Bitten.
BERTRAND. Sold again (ASIDE). (A PAUSE.)
ALINE. Well, I never did!
DUMONT. Two fathers!
MARQUIS. Two? Impossible.
DUMONT. Not at all. This is the other.
MARQUIS. This man?
MACAIRE. This is the man, my lord; here stands the father;
Charles, to my arms! (CHARLES BACKS.)
DUMONT. He knew the letter.
MARQUIS. Well, but so did I.
CURATE. The judgment of Solomon.
GORIOT. What did I tell 'ee? he can't marry.
ERNESTINE. Couldn't they both consent?
MARQUIS. But he's my living image.
MACAIRE. Mine, Marquis, mine.
MARQUIS. My figure, I think?
MACAIRE. Ah, Charles, Charles!
CURATE. We used to think his physiognomy resembled Dumont's.
DUMONT. Come to look at him, he's really like Goriot.
ERNESTINE. O papa, I hope he's not my brother.
GORIOT. What be talking of? I tell 'ee, he's like our Curate.
CHARLES. Gentlemen, my head aches.
MARQUIS. I have it: the involuntary voice of nature. Look at
me, my son.
MACAIRE. Nay, Charles, but look at me.
CHARLES. Gentlemen, I am unconscious of the smallest natural
inclination for either.
MARQUIS. Another thought: what was his mother's name?
MACAIRE. What was the name of his mother by you?
MARQUIS. Sir, you are silenced.
MACAIRE. Silenced by honour. I had rather lose my boy than
compromise his sainted mother.
MARQUIS. A thought: twins might explain it: had you not two
foundlings?
DUMONT. Nay, sir, one only; and judging by the miseries of this
evening, I should say, thank God!
MACAIRE. My friends, leave me alone with the Marquis. It is
only a father that can understand a father's heart. Bertrand,
follow the members of my family. (THEY TROOP OUT, L. U. E. AND
R. U. E., THE FIDDLERS PLAYING. AIR: 'O DEAR, WHAT CAN THE
MATTER BE?')
SCENE IV
MACAIRE, MARQUIS
MARQUIS. Well, sir?
MACAIRE. My lord, I feel for you. (BUSINESS. THEY SIT, R.)
MARQUIS. And now, sir?
MACAIRE. The bond that joins us is remarkable and touching.
MARQUIS. Well, sir?
MACAIRE (TOUCHING HIM ON THE BREAST). You have there thirty
thousand francs.
MARQUIS. Well, sir?
MACAIRE. I was but thinking of the inequalities of life, my
lord: that I who, for all you know, may be the father of your
son, should have nothing; and that you who, for all I know, may
be the father of mine, should be literally bulging with bank
notes. . . . Where do you keep them at night?
MARQUIS. Under my pillow. I think it rather ingenious.
MACAIRE. Admirably so! I applaud the device.
introduced him? You behold in us the embodiment of aristocracy
and democracy. Bertrand, shake hands with my family. (BERTRAND
IS REBUFFED BY ONE AND THE OTHER IN DEAD SILENCE.)
BERTRAND. Sold again!
MACAIRE. Charles, to my arms! (BUSINESS.)
ERNESTINE. Well, but now that he has a father of some kind,
cannot the marriage go on?
MACAIRE. Angel, this very night: I burn to take my grandchild
on my knees.
GORIOT. Be you that young man's veyther?
MACAIRE. Ay, and what a father!
GORIOT. Then all I've got to say is, I shan't and I wun't.
MACAIRE. Ah, friends, friends, what a satisfaction it is, what a
sight is virtue! I came among you in this poor attire to test
you; how nobly have you borne the test! But my disguise begins
to irk me: who will lend me a good suit? (BUSINESS.)
SCENE III
To these, the MARQUIS, L. C.
MARQUIS. Is this the house of John Paul Dumont, once of Lyons?
DUMONT. It is, sir, and I am he, at your disposal.
MARQUIS. I am the Marquis Villers-Cotterets de la Cherte de
Medoc. (SENSATION.)
MACAIRE. Marquis, delighted, I am sure.
MARQUIS (TO DUMONT). I come, as you perceive, unfollowed; my
errand, therefore, is discreet. I come (PRODUCING NOTES FROM
BREAST-POCKET) equipped with thirty thousand francs; my errand,
therefore, must be generous. Can you not guess?
DUMONT. Not I, my lord.
MARQUIS (REPEATING). 'Preserve this letter,' etc.
MACAIRE. Bitten.
BERTRAND. Sold again (ASIDE). (A PAUSE.)
ALINE. Well, I never did!
DUMONT. Two fathers!
MARQUIS. Two? Impossible.
DUMONT. Not at all. This is the other.
MARQUIS. This man?
MACAIRE. This is the man, my lord; here stands the father;
Charles, to my arms! (CHARLES BACKS.)
DUMONT. He knew the letter.
MARQUIS. Well, but so did I.
CURATE. The judgment of Solomon.
GORIOT. What did I tell 'ee? he can't marry.
ERNESTINE. Couldn't they both consent?
MARQUIS. But he's my living image.
MACAIRE. Mine, Marquis, mine.
MARQUIS. My figure, I think?
MACAIRE. Ah, Charles, Charles!
CURATE. We used to think his physiognomy resembled Dumont's.
DUMONT. Come to look at him, he's really like Goriot.
ERNESTINE. O papa, I hope he's not my brother.
GORIOT. What be talking of? I tell 'ee, he's like our Curate.
CHARLES. Gentlemen, my head aches.
MARQUIS. I have it: the involuntary voice of nature. Look at
me, my son.
MACAIRE. Nay, Charles, but look at me.
CHARLES. Gentlemen, I am unconscious of the smallest natural
inclination for either.
MARQUIS. Another thought: what was his mother's name?
MACAIRE. What was the name of his mother by you?
MARQUIS. Sir, you are silenced.
MACAIRE. Silenced by honour. I had rather lose my boy than
compromise his sainted mother.
MARQUIS. A thought: twins might explain it: had you not two
foundlings?
DUMONT. Nay, sir, one only; and judging by the miseries of this
evening, I should say, thank God!
MACAIRE. My friends, leave me alone with the Marquis. It is
only a father that can understand a father's heart. Bertrand,
follow the members of my family. (THEY TROOP OUT, L. U. E. AND
R. U. E., THE FIDDLERS PLAYING. AIR: 'O DEAR, WHAT CAN THE
MATTER BE?')
SCENE IV
MACAIRE, MARQUIS
MARQUIS. Well, sir?
MACAIRE. My lord, I feel for you. (BUSINESS. THEY SIT, R.)
MARQUIS. And now, sir?
MACAIRE. The bond that joins us is remarkable and touching.
MARQUIS. Well, sir?
MACAIRE (TOUCHING HIM ON THE BREAST). You have there thirty
thousand francs.
MARQUIS. Well, sir?
MACAIRE. I was but thinking of the inequalities of life, my
lord: that I who, for all you know, may be the father of your
son, should have nothing; and that you who, for all I know, may
be the father of mine, should be literally bulging with bank
notes. . . . Where do you keep them at night?
MARQUIS. Under my pillow. I think it rather ingenious.
MACAIRE. Admirably so! I applaud the device.