The Mad Marquis. Александр Дюма

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Название The Mad Marquis
Автор произведения Александр Дюма
Жанр Зарубежная драматургия
Серия
Издательство Зарубежная драматургия
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781479408795



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leave together.

      (loud noise)

      ROSINE

      What’s that uproar?

      ADELAIDE

      It’s my aunt! How agitated she seems.

      FAT JOHN

      I would also have done well to stay home.

      (The Countess comes in and collapses on a sofa.)

      ADELAIDE

      Auntie, my dear auntie!

      COUNTESS

      Isn’t it a frightful dream that pursues me?

      FAT JOHN (aside)

      She thinks she’s dreaming.

      ADELAIDE

      Auntie, what’s happened?

      COUNTESS

      A terrible event! A scene that may annihilate all my hopes.

      (The Baron enters)

      Ah, Baron you are our friend, our relative—The Marquis?

      BARON

      His action has put the palace into an uproar—one would say a riot of courtiers.

      COUNTESS

      What’s he done?

      BARON

      I don’t know. Surrounded by a group of young lords he left the Château.

      COUNTESS

      Ah—our family is ruined.

      (The Baroness enters)

      COUNTESS

      Well, Madame?

      BARONESS

      The King doesn’t know yet, and maybe we will succeed in stifling the scandal, but the nephew of d’Aigueville disappeared at the same time as the Marquis. They’re talking of a duel—and if they are not met in time by our friends, we must expect the greatest misfortune.

      FAT JOHN

      Here he is! It’s him! He looks furious—

      (The Marquis enters and lets himself fall into an armchair. His right hand is wrapped in a kerchief soaked in blood.)

      MARQUIS

      The wretches! The proud ones!

      COUNTESS

      Nephew!

      ADELAIDE

      Cousin!

      MARQUIS

      Well, Auntie, here it is—this court you were on fire to lead me to. What deception! What deception! As for me, who dreamed only of their glory! I arrived in their midst. Jealous of the favor that was accorded me by the sovereign, they rushed to humiliate me. They reproached me for the birth of my father. And I heard buzzing in my ear in a humiliating manner, the name Nicholas Tuyau! And who outraged me? A Duke d’Aigueville, a kin of ours. My hand, ready before my sword, avenged the insult he gave me.

      COUNTESS

      Great God!

      (she sit down on the sofa)

      MARQUIS

      I slipped out, in the midst of tumult, followed by the Duke d’Aigueville and two gentlemen. “So, gentlemen, according to you, my father was a rustic—but I am noble by mother. In my turn, draw your swords.” In a moment, I gave two lessons. The third, I received.

      ADELAIDE

      You are wounded?

      MARQUIS

      It’s nothing. Just a scratch.

      COUNTESS (rising)

      You are wounded?

      MARQUIS

      Yes, Auntie—wounded in the hand. I reproached them for their infamy, reminded them of the friendship they had for my dinners—my parties. Their tenderness after an orgy—the equality of a cabaret. “The equality of a cabaret,” responded the most frank of my three adversaries. I should have remembered that the cabaret was very far from Versailles. I will take note. Oh, I’ll avenge myself on them.

      COUNTESS

      You will fall under their blows.

      MARQUIS

      No more duels! There are three to say that I am not a coward.—I want a different art of war. They reject me—these men that I wanted to love. I will find virtues to choke their vices. I wanted to regenerate them—I renounce them. The people blind in their love as in their hate still regard them as demi-gods. I will destroy this cult by showing them up close. It’s painful if they are scorned by the valet who penetrates the depths of their boudoirs—he who sees only the remains of their excesses. The dregs of their clothes—There are other people who don’t know them—those of the public square—because these noble lords never go on foot.—Well, it’s there I will install the Marquis de Brunoy, advisor, secretary of the King—

      COUNTESS

      Nephew, you are going to make me die!

      ADELAIDE

      Cousin, calm down.

      FAT JOHN

      Appease yourself, my little milk-brother.

      MARQUIS

      Come closer, Fat Jean

      (offers him his hand)

      I’ve just soiled myself with courtiers, I need to shake the hand of a man. You will never leave me anymore.

      COUNTESS

      What’s he say?

      MARQUIS (to servants)

      Sell all my furniture in Paris for a cheap price. Whatever you can get. Pictures, glasses, tapestry to whoever wants them. What cannot be sold—destroy.—Bring my carriage around.

      COUNTESS

      My friend, my nephew, what are you going to do?

      MARQUIS

      Auntie, don’t try to restrain me. My decision is unchanged. Fat John, come with me.

      FAT JOHN

      Right away. Where are we going?

      MARQUIS

      To Brunoy.

      FAT JOHN

      To Brunoy—what!

      CHORUS

      Calm, calm this vengeful mind. I hope to do it. All these new plans will never obtain success.

      (A servant assists the Marquis to put on his cloak. Fat Jean and The Marquis leave.)

      C U R T A I N

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