The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda. Виктор Мари Гюго

that is the case, you can be happy; can't he, Jane?

      JOSHUA.

      I can't do anything to add to your happiness, but Jane can do everything. You love her. I may never be able to do anything for you. Fortunately for you, you are not high and mighty enough to ever need the help of the turnkey of the Tower of London. Jane will pay my debt at the same time that she pays her own, because she and I owe everything to you. Jane was but a poor child, a forsaken orphan; you took her home and brought her up. I was drowning in the Thames, one fine day, and you dragged me out of the water.

      GILBERT.

      Why do you always talk about that, Joshua?

      JOSHUA.

      In order to tell you that our duty, Jane's and mine, is to love you. I, as a brother; and she, not as a sister.

      JANE.

      No, as a woman. I understand you, Joshua. [She sinks back into her reverie.

      GILBERT.

      Look at her, Joshua! Is she not beautiful and attractive, and is she not worthy of a king? If you only knew! You cannot imagine how I love her!

      JOSHUA.

      Be careful! It is dangerous. A woman should not be loved so much as that. With a child, it is different.

      GILBERT.

      What do you mean?

      JOSHUA.

      Nothing. I will be at your wedding next week. I hope State affairs will leave me a little liberty then, and that everything will be finished.

      GILBERT.

      How? What will be finished?

      JOSHUA.

      Ah, these things do not interest you, Gilbert. You are in love; you belong to the people. What do the intrigues of the high-born matter to you, who are happy among the low-born? But since you ask me, I will tell you that within one week, perhaps within twenty-four hours, it is hoped that Fabiano Fabiani's place near the Queen will be filled by another.

      GILBERT.

      Who is Fabiano Fabiani?

      JOSHUA.

      The Queen's lover: a very celebrated and a very fascinating favorite—a favorite who has had his enemies' heads chopped off with greater dispatch than a procuress can repeat an "Ave"; the best favorite that the executioner of the Tower of London has had for ten years. For you must know that every great lord's head that falls, brings in ten silver crowns to the executioner—sometimes twice as much, when the head is very distinguished. The fall of this Fabiani is greatly desired; though, I must say, during my duties at the Tower, it is only the bad-tempered people whom I hear find fault with him—the discontented people; those whose heads are to fall next month.

      GILBERT.

      Let the wolves rend each other! What do we care about the Queen and the Queen's favorite? Isn't it so, Jane?

      JOSHUA.

      There is a big conspiracy against Fabiani; if he escapes, he will be lucky. I should not be surprised if they were to strike some blow to-night. I just saw Master Simon Renard prowling about here, very much absorbed.

      GILBERT.

      Who is Master Simon Renard?

      JOSHUA.

      Is it possible that you don't know? He is the Emperor's right hand at London. The Queen is to marry the Prince of Spain, and Simon Renard is his embassador to her. The Queen hates him, this Simon Renard; but she is afraid of him, and she can't do anything to him. He has already destroyed two or three favorites. It seems to be his instinct to destroy favorites. He clears up the palace from time to time. He is a shrewd and spiteful man; he knows all that goes on, and he digs two or three subterranean rows of intrigues under every event. As for Lord Paget—didn't you ask me who was Lord Paget?—he is a crafty nobleman who helped to manage affairs under Henry VIII. He is a member of the secret council. He has such an ascendency that the other ministers do not dare to breathe in his presence—except, however, the chancellor, my Lord Gardiner, who detests him. A violent man, this Gardiner, and well born. As for Paget, he was nobody—a cobbler's son. He is to be made Baron Paget of Beaudesert in Stafford.

      GILBERT.

      How glibly he tells all these things, this Joshua.

      JOSHUA.

      My faith! It's from hearing the prisoners of State talk.

      [Simon Renard appears at the back of stage.

      You see, Gilbert, the man who knows most about the history of these times is the turnkey of the Tower of London.

      Simon Renard (who overhears these last words).

      You are mistaken, my master; it is the executioner!

      JOSHUA (low to Gilbert and Jane).

      Let us move back a little!

      [Simon Renard goes off slowly; when he has disappeared.

      That is Master Simon Renard himself.

      GILBERT.

      I don't like to have all these men prowling about my house.

      JOSHUA.

      What the devil is he doing here? I must hurry back; I think he is getting work ready for me. Good-by, Gilbert! Good-by, my beautiful Jane, I knew you when you were no bigger than that, all the same!

      GILBERT.

      Good-by, Joshua! What are you hiding there under your cloak?

      JOSHUA.

      I've got my conspiracy, too!

      GILBERT.

      What conspiracy?

      JOSHUA.

      O lover who forgets everything else! I have just reminded you that the day after to-morrow is the time for Christmas presents. The nobles are plotting a surprise for Fabiani. Well, I am plotting a surprise too. The Queen may give herself the present of a brand-new favorite. I am going to give my child a doll. [He takes a doll from his cloak.] Brand-new, too! We will see which will be the first to break her toy. God keep you, my friends.

      GILBERT.

      Good-by, Joshua!

      [Joshua departs. Gilbert takes Jane's hand and kisses it with passion.

      JOSHUA (from back of stage).

      How wise is Providence! She gives to each one his plaything. The doll to the child, the child to the man, the man to the woman, and the woman to the devil. [Exits.

      SCENE III

      Gilbert, Jane

      GILBERT.

      I must go, too. Good-by, Jane: sleep well.

      JANE.

      You are not coming in with me to-night, Gilbert?

      GILBERT.

      I can't. You know, I told you before, Jane, I have some work to do in my shop to-night. I must engrave the handle of a dagger for some Lord Clanbrassil, whom I have never seen, and who wants it to-morrow morning.

      JANE.

      Then good-night, Gilbert. Until to-morrow!

      GILBERT.

      No, Jane, wait a moment. Heaven! how it hurts me to leave you, even for a few hours. How true it is that you are my life and my joy. Yet I have to work—we are so poor. I won't go in, because I should stay; and yet I can't leave you, weak man that I am. Let us sit down by the door a few moments, on this bench. I think it will be easier to go from here than if I went into