EIGHTH SCENE.
Archibald Alexander translation
THE SAME. THE VALET DE CHAMBRE. THE QUEEN. THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR. THE SLEEPY MAID OF HONOUR.
The Valet (announces).
Her Majesty!
The Queen.
I heard a rumour which greatly displeased me and troubled my peace of mind extremely. Is it true?... There lies the great hero; and truly, in death he seems even more insignificant than he was--as insignificant as one of the most insignificant. Yet mourn with me! We have had a great loss. Even if ambition urge you on with a double spur, many a fine day will come and go before his like will be born to us.
(The Marshal clears his throat softly.)
The Queen.
May his courtliness, too, be pleasantly remembered! After his campaign he always brought back to his Queen the best of the splendid spoil of his booty. That touched my royal heart and will be cited as a glorious example. And yet now to you ... What did they say to me? It sounds almost untrue and unnatural: are you the David of our Goliath? I use the term "Goliath" only figuratively. For though we are mourning at his bier, it cannot be said that he was a giant. Yet we know his disposition was haughty. (The Marquises eagerly assent.) Surely he broke in upon you in sudden anger? You are silent out of generosity. So I will graciously forgive this fault and another fault too. (The Painter clears his throat softly. She stretches out her hand to him, which he kisses.) And be not grieved! (To The Marquises.) Does not what has happened seem almost like a judgment of God?
The Marquis in Pale Blue.
It is true! Here a higher power has been at work.
The Deaf Maid of Honor.
Pardon me, your Majesty! The Marshal is laughing.
The Marquises (muttering in horror).
Is he laughing? Is he laughing? (Silence.)
The Marshal (rising).
Madam, forgive me! In the fight a sudden fainting fit overcame me.
The Marquis in Pale Blue.
(Pointing at The Painter's sword lying on the floor.) And what is this blood? (Movement by The Painter.)
The Marshal.
Until the return to my senses relieved me (with emphasis) of this trouble and another trouble.
The Queen.
(Quickly collecting herself. Sharply.) My congratulations, sir! And my sympathy as well! What has happened to you gives me unspeakable distress. The court atmosphere is indeed rather close, and seems insupportable to great conquerors; which often betrays itself in wrong fancies and swoons. Therefore I am obliged to exercise my power as Queen, and protect your good health against danger. Jean, announce me to his Majesty! (Exit Jean on the left. The Queen, punishing The Painter with a glance of unspeakable scorn, follows slowly. The two Maids of Honour go after her.)