Act 4 — SCENE VIII.
Charles Renauld translation
ROXANE, CHRISTIAN; in the rear CADETS, going and coming: CARBON and GUICHE giving orders.
ROXANE (running up to Christian).
And now, dear Christian!....
CHRISTIAN (taking both her hands).
And now tell me why, over impassable roads, why, through the ranks of brutal soldiery, you joined me here.
ROXANE.
On account of your letters.
CHRISTIAN.
My letters?
ROXANE.
Yes, and it is your fault if I took so many risks. Your letters intoxicated me. Ah! remember how many you wrote me, during this last month, and all so beautiful!
CHRISTIAN.
What! Do you mean to say that for a few short love letters?....
ROXANE.
Your letters, yes! My ardent love for you, Love passionate, was born that night of bliss When, from beneath my willing balcony, In accents that to both of us were new, A soul revealed itself to me....'twas yours.... So that, each time your letters came, it seemed As if I lived those minutes once again, And, rapture-bound, I heard your voice itself, Those tender tones that twined around me then. So here am I! Penelope would not Have persevered in waiting labour if Ulysses could have written grandly so; But, daft as Helen, she, to join him, would Have flung away her tedious worsted balls.
CHRISTIAN.
But....
ROXANE.
Yes, I read and read, while every thrill Confirmed me yours. Each leaflet that I held Was like a petal wafted from your soul, Each word was one of love sincere and strong....
CHRISTIAN.
Indeed, sincere and strong?—You felt it so?....
ROXANE.
Oh! yes, so strongly!
CHRISTIAN.
And, Roxane, you came....
ROXANE.
I came because.... O Christian, dearest conqueror, You'd bid me rise, if I should clasp your knees; So 'tis my soul that's at your feet. My soul You never can remove from reverence. I came to seek forgiveness (and the time Is meet, indeed, since death is near, perhaps!), Your pardon for—how frivolous I was!— Once loving you for beauty's sake alone.
CHRISTIAN (frightened).
Roxane!
ROXANE.
But later, dear, with growing sense, —A bird will hop before it learns to soar— I marked your soul outshining e'en your looks, And then I loved you more for both.
CHRISTIAN.
And now?
ROXANE.
You have, in short, yourself outshone yourself, And now I love you for your soul alone.
CHRISTIAN.
Roxane!
ROXANE.
Rejoice! What is a love we owe To passing gifts, to beauty doomed to fade? It's torture for an eager, noble heart. My thoughts of you recall no handsome face; Your beauty that, at first, had captured me, Now that my eyes are opened, strikes me not.
CHRISTIAN.
Oh!
ROXANE.
Doubt you not what victory is yours!
CHRISTIAN.
Roxane!
ROXANE.
I understand. Such love as this Is past belief.
CHRISTIAN.
'Tis not the love I seek. I wish to be belovèd simply for....
ROXANE.
For what some others prized before to-day? Oh! let your heart make room for better love!
CHRISTIAN.
Roxane, your former love was better.
ROXANE.
Nay! 'Tis now I love you better, most and well! 'Tis what is really you that now I love, And I should love you still if you should cease....
CHRISTIAN.
Oh! hush, Roxane.
ROXANE.
Yes, cease to look so grand.
CHRISTIAN.
If I were homely?
ROXANE.
Even hideous!
CHRISTIAN.
Roxane!....
ROXANE.
The thought should give you joy profound.
CHRISTIAN (in a husky voice).
Yes....
ROXANE.
What troubles you?
CHRISTIAN (gently pushing her off).
Nothing. I have an order to give! One second, please....
ROXANE.
But....
CHRISTIAN (pointing to a group of Cadets in the rear).
My love for you, my selfishness, has deprived these poor fellows of your sweet company. Go smile to them a little, since they are about to die.... Go!
ROXANE (moved).
How good you are, dear Christian!....
(She goes up to the Gascons, who respectfully surround her.)