Tales of two people

Duc. I thought of you – and behold, it became impossible. At the moment your image – (Another great shout is heard.) Hum, they never get tired of the sight, it seems. (He glances at the Marquise, but she has not noticed the shout. He takes her hand and presses it gently.)

Marquise. Is it true? You ought to tell the truth now.

Duc. Now? (Laughs.) Ah, yes!

Marquise. Really true? (She draws her hand away sharply.)

Duc. You don’t believe me?

Marquise. Yes, I believe you. But – but how stupid you were, monsieur!

Duc. Eh?

Marquise. How stupid you were, monsieur.

Duc. True. (Takes snuff.) True, by heaven! I was – monstrous stupid.

Marquise. To think that you could —

Duc. Love her?

Marquise. Forget me, monsieur. Alas, I lose all my pride in – (Pauses.)

Duc. In – ? (Pauses. They smile and she blushes.)

Marquise. In any compliments you may have paid me.

Duc. (Softly.) You won’t forgive me? Well, it’s the fashion now! I must die twice to-day?

Marquise. Twice – die twice! (Looks at him and trembles a little.) I – I had almost forgotten what – where we were. (A fierce shout is heard, sounding nearer now.) Louis, they’ll – they’ll do nothing worse than – kill me? You don’t answer, Louis!

Duc. Yes, yes. There’s no fear – no fear of that.

Marquise. But you hesitated.

Duc. (Low.) If we must talk of death, pray let it be of mine. (She glances at him and lays her hand on his for a moment.) Yours seems too – too – (Smiles.) I want a word. Well, too incongruous, dear Marquise.

Marquise. I have confessed – and forgiven all my enemies.

Duc. Am I your enemy? Have you no forgiveness left for friends? (She looks at him gravely for a moment, then smiles reluctantly.) Why, we were growing grave! That would be a bad ending.

Marquise. The most seemly ending!

Duc. For me? Oh, oh, Marquise! They’d think they’d got hold of the wrong man. Your hand’s a trifle cold.

Marquise. (Laughing nervously.) Well, if it is? We’ve stopped again! Are we near now?

Duc. At the entrance of the Place, I believe. (Looks at her and goes on quickly.) You and I have walked here together before now. You remember? Alone together – so often. (Rises.) Forgive me – as you face towards the Place the sun is in your eyes. Pray sit the other way. It’s pleasanter to look towards the river – cooler to the eye. You remember our walks, dear Marquise?

Marquise. You still look towards the Place, though.

Duc. (Laughing.) Why yes! I can’t have the dogs saying I daren’t —

Marquise. Are they to say it of me then, monsieur? (She rises and stands by him, looking towards the Place, where the scaffold is now visible.)

Duc. (Removing his hat and bowing humbly.) I beg your pardon.

Marquise. (Very low.) Dear Louis, dear Louis!

Duc. I thought life done. I was wrong a thousand times!

Marquise. I cried when you —

Duc. Ah, if I beg them to torture me – Would that atone?

Marquise. They found me crying. Think of the humiliation!

Duc. Oh, I must have a talk with a priest – after all I must! (She turns away with a sob and then a gasping laugh.) Ay, that’s life, dearest Marquise – and perhaps it’s the other thing too.

Marquise. I care less now, Louis.

Duc. Give me your hand a minute. Yes, it’s warmer now. And the rouge – why, madame, I swear the rouge is utterly superfluous! Shall we throw it to the mob? It’s their favourite colour. I’ll leave it in the cart – when they turn on one another, some hero may be glad of it. Margot, dear Margot, are you cold? I thought you shivered as your arm touched mine.

Marquise. (Low.) No. I’m – I’m just a little afraid, Louis.

Duc. Oh no, no, no – Margot, no. You’re cold. Or – (Smiling.) Come, flatter me. Say it’s agitation – say it’s joy. Come, Margot, say that!

Marquise. (Drawing nearer.) They didn’t know what they were doing when they sent me with you.

Duc. The ignorance of the fellows is extraordinary.

Marquise. Because – everybody knew.

Duc. Alas, I was never too discreet! (More shouts are heard. The Guard in charge of the tumbril cries “Ready? We’re the last.”) Hum! For to-day, I suppose he means! (He looks at her; her lips are moving. He takes off his hat and stands bareheaded. The movement of her lips ceases and she turns to him. He smiles.) I think you can have little need of prayer.

Marquise. You say that? You?

Duc. Yes, I say that, Margot. (They are at the foot of the scaffold now.) As for me – well, I have always followed the fashion – and prayers are not the fashion now. I was bitten by M. de Voltaire. By the way, perhaps he’s had something to do with this – and we made him the fashion! How whimsical! (The National Guard turns and points his finger towards the scaffold.) What? Oh, at your service, monsieur. (He turns to the Marquise, smiling.) I must leave you – this time in love.

Marquise. (Stretching out her hands.) Let me go first.

Duc. On my soul, I couldn’t! (Softly.) The way is dark, let me show it you.

Marquise. Louis, Louis!

Duc. And now – look now towards the river. Pray – towards the river! I want you to remember me at my best. And – Margot – you mustn’t – you mustn’t want the rouge. Your hand’s warm – still warm.

Marquise. (Vehemently.) I will go first. I – I can’t see you – I will go first.