plays [86]
exacts your name.
MACAIRE. Henri-Frederic de Latour de Main de la Tonnerre de
Brest.
BRIGADIER. Your profession?
MACAIRE. Gentleman.
BRIGADIER. No, but what is your trade?
MACAIRE. I am an analytical chymist.
BRIGADIER. Justice is inscrutable. Your papers are in order.
(TO BERTRAND.) Now, sir, and yours?
BERTRAND. I feel kind of ill.
MACAIRE. Bertrand, this gentleman addresses you. He is not one
of us; in other scenes, in the gay and giddy world of fashion,
one is his superior. But to-day he represents the majesty of
law; and as a citizen it is one's pride to do him honour.
BRIGADIER. Those are my sentiments.
BERTRAND. I beg your pardon, I - (GIVES PAPERS.)
BRIGADIER. Your name?
BERTRAND. Napoleon.
BRIGADIER. What? In your passport it is written Bertrand.
BERTRAND. It's this way: I was born Bertrand, and then I took
the name of Napoleon, and I mostly always call myself either
Napoleon or Bertrand.
BRIGADIER. The truth is always best. Your profession?
BERTRAND. I am an orphan.
BRIGADIER. What the devil! (TO MACAIRE.) Is your friend an
idiot?
MACAIRE. Pardon me, he is a poet.
BRIGADIER. Poetry is a great hindrance to the ends of justice.
Well, take your papers.
MACAIRE. Then we may go?
SCENE IV
To these, CHARLES, who is seen on the gallery, going to the door
of Number Thirteen. Afterwards all the characters but the
NOTARY and the MARQUIS
BRIGADIER. One glass more. (BERTRAND TOUCHES MACAIRE, AND
POINTS TO CHARLES, WHO ENTERS NUMBER THIRTEEN).
MACAIRE. No more, no more, no more.
BRIGADIER (RISING AND TAKING MACAIRE BY THE ARM). I stipulate!
MACAIRE. Engagement in Turin!
BRIGADIER. Turin?
MACAIRE. Lyons, Lyons!
BERTRAND. For God's sake.
BRIGADIER. Well, good-bye!
MACAIRE. Good-bye, good -
CHARLES (FROM WITHIN). Murder! Help! (APPEARING.) Help here!
The Marquis is murdered.
BRIGADIER. Stand to the door. A man up there. (A GENDARME
HURRIES UP STAIRCASE INTO NUMBER THIRTEEN, CHARLES FOLLOWING HIM.
ENTER ON BOTH SIDES OF GALLERY THE REMAINING CHARACTERS OF THE
PIECE, EXCEPT THE NOTARY AND THE MARQUIS.)
MACAIRE. Bitten, by God! } ASIDE.
BERTRAND. Lost! }
BRIGADIER (TO DUMONT). John Paul Dumont, I arrest you.
DUMONT. Do your duty, officer. I can answer for myself and my
own people.
BRIGADIER. Yes, but these strangers?
DUMONT. They are strangers to me.
MACAIRE. I am an honest man: I stand upon my rights: search
me; or search this person, of whom I know too little. (SMITING
HIS BROW.) By heaven, I see it all! This morning - (TO
BERTRAND.) How, sir, did you dare to flaunt your booty in my
very face? (TO BRIGADIER.) He showed me notes; he was up ere
day; search him, and you'll find. There stands the murderer.
BERTRAND. O, Macaire! (HE IS SEIZED AND SEARCHED AND THE NOTES
ARE FOUND.)
BRIGADIER. There is blood upon the notes. Handcuffs. (MACAIRE
EDGING TOWARDS THE DOOR.)
BERTRAND. Macaire, you may as well take the bundle. (MACAIRE IS
STOPPED BY SENTRY, AND COMES FRONT, R.)
CHARLES (RE-APPEARING). Stop, I know the truth. (HE COMES
DOWN.) Brigadier, my father is not dead. He is not even
dangerously hurt. He has spoken. There is the would-be
assassin.
MACAIRE. Hell! (HE DARTS ACROSS TO THE STAIRCASE, AND TURNS ON
THE SECOND STEP, FLASHING OUT THE KNIFE.) Back, hounds! (HE
SPRINGS UP THE STAIR, AND CONFRONTS THEM FROM THE TOP.) Fools, I
am Robert Macaire! (AS MACAIRE TURNS TO FLEE, HE IS MET BY THE
GENDARME COMING OUT OF NUMBER THIRTEEN; HE STANDS AN INSTANT
CHECKED, IS SHOT FROM THE STAGE, AND FALLS HEADLONG BACKWARD DOWN
THE STAIR. BERTRAND, WITH A CRY, BREAKS FROM THE GENDARMES,
KNEELS AT HIS SIDE, AND RAISES HIS HEAD.)
BERTRAND. Macaire, Macaire, forgive me. I didn't blab; you know
I didn't blab.
MACAIRE. Sold again, old boy. Sold for the last time; at least,
the last time this side death. Death - what is death? (HE DIES.)
CURTAIN
MACAIRE. Henri-Frederic de Latour de Main de la Tonnerre de
Brest.
BRIGADIER. Your profession?
MACAIRE. Gentleman.
BRIGADIER. No, but what is your trade?
MACAIRE. I am an analytical chymist.
BRIGADIER. Justice is inscrutable. Your papers are in order.
(TO BERTRAND.) Now, sir, and yours?
BERTRAND. I feel kind of ill.
MACAIRE. Bertrand, this gentleman addresses you. He is not one
of us; in other scenes, in the gay and giddy world of fashion,
one is his superior. But to-day he represents the majesty of
law; and as a citizen it is one's pride to do him honour.
BRIGADIER. Those are my sentiments.
BERTRAND. I beg your pardon, I - (GIVES PAPERS.)
BRIGADIER. Your name?
BERTRAND. Napoleon.
BRIGADIER. What? In your passport it is written Bertrand.
BERTRAND. It's this way: I was born Bertrand, and then I took
the name of Napoleon, and I mostly always call myself either
Napoleon or Bertrand.
BRIGADIER. The truth is always best. Your profession?
BERTRAND. I am an orphan.
BRIGADIER. What the devil! (TO MACAIRE.) Is your friend an
idiot?
MACAIRE. Pardon me, he is a poet.
BRIGADIER. Poetry is a great hindrance to the ends of justice.
Well, take your papers.
MACAIRE. Then we may go?
SCENE IV
To these, CHARLES, who is seen on the gallery, going to the door
of Number Thirteen. Afterwards all the characters but the
NOTARY and the MARQUIS
BRIGADIER. One glass more. (BERTRAND TOUCHES MACAIRE, AND
POINTS TO CHARLES, WHO ENTERS NUMBER THIRTEEN).
MACAIRE. No more, no more, no more.
BRIGADIER (RISING AND TAKING MACAIRE BY THE ARM). I stipulate!
MACAIRE. Engagement in Turin!
BRIGADIER. Turin?
MACAIRE. Lyons, Lyons!
BERTRAND. For God's sake.
BRIGADIER. Well, good-bye!
MACAIRE. Good-bye, good -
CHARLES (FROM WITHIN). Murder! Help! (APPEARING.) Help here!
The Marquis is murdered.
BRIGADIER. Stand to the door. A man up there. (A GENDARME
HURRIES UP STAIRCASE INTO NUMBER THIRTEEN, CHARLES FOLLOWING HIM.
ENTER ON BOTH SIDES OF GALLERY THE REMAINING CHARACTERS OF THE
PIECE, EXCEPT THE NOTARY AND THE MARQUIS.)
MACAIRE. Bitten, by God! } ASIDE.
BERTRAND. Lost! }
BRIGADIER (TO DUMONT). John Paul Dumont, I arrest you.
DUMONT. Do your duty, officer. I can answer for myself and my
own people.
BRIGADIER. Yes, but these strangers?
DUMONT. They are strangers to me.
MACAIRE. I am an honest man: I stand upon my rights: search
me; or search this person, of whom I know too little. (SMITING
HIS BROW.) By heaven, I see it all! This morning - (TO
BERTRAND.) How, sir, did you dare to flaunt your booty in my
very face? (TO BRIGADIER.) He showed me notes; he was up ere
day; search him, and you'll find. There stands the murderer.
BERTRAND. O, Macaire! (HE IS SEIZED AND SEARCHED AND THE NOTES
ARE FOUND.)
BRIGADIER. There is blood upon the notes. Handcuffs. (MACAIRE
EDGING TOWARDS THE DOOR.)
BERTRAND. Macaire, you may as well take the bundle. (MACAIRE IS
STOPPED BY SENTRY, AND COMES FRONT, R.)
CHARLES (RE-APPEARING). Stop, I know the truth. (HE COMES
DOWN.) Brigadier, my father is not dead. He is not even
dangerously hurt. He has spoken. There is the would-be
assassin.
MACAIRE. Hell! (HE DARTS ACROSS TO THE STAIRCASE, AND TURNS ON
THE SECOND STEP, FLASHING OUT THE KNIFE.) Back, hounds! (HE
SPRINGS UP THE STAIR, AND CONFRONTS THEM FROM THE TOP.) Fools, I
am Robert Macaire! (AS MACAIRE TURNS TO FLEE, HE IS MET BY THE
GENDARME COMING OUT OF NUMBER THIRTEEN; HE STANDS AN INSTANT
CHECKED, IS SHOT FROM THE STAGE, AND FALLS HEADLONG BACKWARD DOWN
THE STAIR. BERTRAND, WITH A CRY, BREAKS FROM THE GENDARMES,
KNEELS AT HIS SIDE, AND RAISES HIS HEAD.)
BERTRAND. Macaire, Macaire, forgive me. I didn't blab; you know
I didn't blab.
MACAIRE. Sold again, old boy. Sold for the last time; at least,
the last time this side death. Death - what is death? (HE DIES.)
CURTAIN