Act 3 — Scene III.
Reading edition
RICHARD, afterwards LIONNETTE.
Richard is about to take up his hat. At the moment that he is thinking of entering Lionnette's apartment, she appears.
Lionnette.
I prefer to receive you here, my dear Mr. Richard, as we shall be left alone and uninterrupted. My room, and my private reception-room, are in disorder; they are packing my trunks—the servants are there, and we could not talk privately. The reason I called you just now was, that the Count might be aware that I was here, and that I was in a hurry to see you. Have you been kind enough to do what I asked you?
Richard.
Yes.
Lionnette.
Then I have nothing more to tell you?
Richard.
No. All that is then quite true?
Lionnette.
Nothing on earth can be truer.
Richard.
Notwithstanding yesterday?
Lionnette.
Events have progressed, and I preferred to have done with it at once. I was right. I am calmer now than I have ever been in my life. I know at last what I want, and where I am going. It is a great deal, whatever one may make of it. I have struggled hard against it, but it seems that I am doomed to end in being a courtesan. Truly, I do not feel any inclination that way. Frivolous, extravagant, but never depraved. However, they willed it; it was inevitable; it was ordained; it was hereditary. My dear Mr. Richard, I have to ask you for some information, because I am still a little inexperienced in my new profession; but from the moment one begins to do those things, they must be done openly, is it not so? Ah! well, here are the title-deeds of some property I have acquired.
Richard.
Dearly?
Lionnette.
Yes, very dearly.
Richard.
And the price is paid?
Lionnette.
It is paid.
Richard.
Is it true?
Lionnette.
Paid or not paid, here are the title-deeds. (Putting them on the table, and beginning to totter.) Then I possess, too, over and above all my paid debts—for they are paid—I am possessor, also, of a million in gold, quite new: it is superb to look at.
Richard.
Sit down, you look as if you were going to fall. You are quite pale; the blood has rushed to your heart.
Lionnette (with a great effort).
Do not be afraid, I am quite strong. I cannot eternally keep a million in gold ... however beautiful it may be ... it is an incumbrance, and then it might be stolen from me ... and money ... is everything in this world! Without reckoning that in cash this million will yield nothing ... and I want it to produce something.... I should like, then, to place it out in the best way possible. You must place it for me in safety, where it cannot be touched, like the little income that remains to the Count; so that I, too, may not want bread in my old age. I am such a spendthrift. I count entirely on you for that.
Richard.
And where is this million?
Lionnette.
It is over there, in my house, the house that I ... bought—in a coffer that I have even forgotten to shut; that is to say ... there are pieces of gold lying in all directions ... on the table ... on the carpet. The Commissary of Police opened his eyes!... If the footmen have taken some, say nothing about it.... I am rich ... for there is also in a cabinet a will of Mr. Nourvady, who, in the event of his death, leaves me all his fortune: forty millions. That is worth something! But death is like everything else in this world, it must not too surely be reckoned on.
Richard (aside.)
Poor creature!
Lionnette.
You already have my power of attorney, from the time that my affairs got into confusion. It will enable you to take possession of my house and of my capital during my absence. There ought also to be some jewels, a great many jewels, in the drawers; I have not the least idea which, however; I have never opened them—I have not even thought of them! You will deposit them all in your house I do not want them in travelling ... and then, I shall have plenty of others given to me—now; I shall have all I can wish for given to me.
Richard.
And you are going away with Mr. Nourvady?
Lionnette.
We start this very day.
Richard.
It is positively arranged?
Lionnette.
I think so; I have not seen him again, but I want absolutely to start to-day.
Richard.
And where will you meet?
Lionnette.
I suppose they will come for me here.
Richard.
Quite openly?
Lionnette.
Quite openly; at least, if they have not already had enough of me ... that may happen ... anything may come to pass.... That would be strange.
Richard.
Do you love Mr. Nourvady, then?
Lionnette (hoping to deceive Richard).
Madly, and for a long time past. I struggled against it. And then, candidly, in the position in which I was, it was the only thing to do.
Richard.
And your husband?
Lionnette (sincere).
Oh! he! that is another thing; I hate him ... oh, yes! I hate him well ... without doubt....
Richard.
And your child?
Lionnette.
I see at what you are aiming, my dear Mr. Richard ... you want to touch my tender feelings. Feel my hands, they are cold; listen to my voice, it does not tremble; if you put your hand on my heart, you would feel that I have not one pulsation more than ordinarily. You still hope there is some remedy for what has happened ... there is none ... there can never be any. If there were any I should reject it. Would you like me to open my heart to you? I merit what has happened. I often condemned my mother, because the guilty always accuse some one else of the faults that they commit; but I am no better than she was. There is too great a mixture in me, and I should be foolish to attempt to discover what I am. I am simply and logically what I was destined to be. I shall not be the first woman who was proud of her disgrace, especially in these times; and what difference will that make to the world? I ought to have been economical or ugly! These two men who hate each other, and are equally resolved to be the ruin of me, are yet better than I, for they love, though one suffers and the other desires; whereas I desire nothing more, I can suffer no more, and this disclosure of affairs will appear quite natural to those who knew me. It is horrible; it is monstrous ... it is all that, and I tell it to you because I have no one now to deceive, thank God! And, apart from that, I am going into vice that I like no better than anything else, as I entered into marriage and motherhood, without considering why. I have no heart! no heart! that is at the bottom of it all. A creature of luxury and pleasure. You ask me, then, why I do not kill myself—why I do not put an end to myself—that is the word? That would be done more quickly, and would simplify everything. Yesterday I was ready to die to avoid dishonour. To-day, what good would it do? I am dishonoured. What do you want me to destroy in myself? Nothing has any more life in me, and it seems that I can still bestow pleasure, love—happiness may be. You say to yourself that all that is impossible, because you call to mind your mother, your wife, your children. Yes, there are, indeed, mothers, wives, children ... and, again, there are some beings who have the same forms, and bear the same names, but who are not in any degree the same thing. What do you want still to know?
Richard.
I do not dispute; only embrace your child for the last time.
Lionnette.
Why disturb him? he is playing no doubt.
Richard.
I am going to look for him.
Lionnette.
No, I beg of you. (Richard walks towards the room.) I do not wish it.
(The Footman appears.)
The Footman.
Mr. Nourvady would like to know if the Countess de Hun can receive him.
Lionnette (in a natural tone.)
Certainly! (To Richard.) Good bye, my dear Mr. Richard ... I will write if I have any instructions to give you. My kind regards to your wife ... if she knows nothing yet.
Richard.
Do not remain long here, that will be more prudent.
Lionnette.
I am going away directly.
(The Footman lets Nourvady pass, and goes away.)
Nourvady.
You excuse me, Madam?
Lionnette.
For what?
Nourvady.
For coming here to look for you.
Lionnette.
Wherever I may be, have you not the right to come there; I was waiting for you. I said so, a moment ago, to Mr. Richard, who knows all.
Richard.
Good-bye, Countess.
Lionnette (giving him her hand with an involuntary and visible emotion).
Adieu, my dear Richard.
Richard (bowing coldly to Nourvady).
Sir.... (He goes away.)