Luc. Curious determination!
Cha. Pardon me: not at all. The fact is, he insulted me, – he made me a present.
Luc. A present! what could it be?
Cha. “A very handsome dressing-case” (a waltz is heard playing outside), with my name engraved upon it, and below my name the following compliment: “Too lazy to do any thing.” I was furious, but I wanted a dressing-case: so, as I wanted a dressing-case, I kept it. I’ll trouble you for another cup of tea, at least if you don’t find me too lazy for that?
[Handing cup.
Luc. With pleasure.
[Hands cup.
Cha. Thanks; don’t let’s talk of my unfortunate self any more; a little more sugar, please.
Luc. This country band really plays that waltz charmingly.
Cha. (listening and pondering). Yes, oh, yes; how often have I heard that air, and how happy have I been!
Luc. That waltz?
Cha. My mother used to play it to me when I was a little child!
Luc. Have you any control over yourself?
Cha. Most certainly, a good deal even; ask me to prove it.
Luc. You would not grant what I ask.
Cha. I wouldn’t. Ah, madam! you want to send me away.
Luc. Not at all: only I wished to explain to you, that, never having worn a thick veil in a room, I’m simply stifling.
Cha. I can quite believe you. Nothing, nothing is so dangerous as a thick veil: you must take it off at once, – you must.
Luc. If you can sufficiently control yourself to sit in a chair here without turning your head, I will sit behind you, and we can finish our conversation without my being stifled.
Cha. (reproachfully). What, madam!
Luc. Well, you must choose; for, as I don’t want to die of suffocation, I shall be forced to give you your congé.
Cha. (taking chair down front of scene, and sitting). Madam, this is the second time it is my good fortune to save your life to-night, in return for which —
Luc. (advancing with a cup of tea in one hand, whilst with the other she keeps him down in the chair). Then, sir, I am to understand that, notwithstanding all the misfortunes connected with your nickname, you have still hope.
Cha. Yes, – hope, that poor little creature that nothing can kill.
Luc. It is, then, this hope that takes you to Baden?
Cha. Baden is, as far as I’m concerned at this moment, my last hope in this world; then, if my luck is once more against me, if fortune fails to help me, if that poor little creature, hope, succumbs to bad luck, why, then —
Luc. You’ll go and join your mother.
Cha. Yes, madam, I shall go.
[Endeavoring to turn round.
Luc. If you do that, I shall have to tie you with my handkerchief. Don’t you think now, joking apart, that it would be wiser, without tempting fortune at Baden, to go to your “mother at once”? (Waltz music again.) She’d play to you again. (Listening.) Come, do you hear that waltz? and when you hear it once more by her side, – that dear mother, – you’ll be happy, and —
Cha. Ah! then, in reading my letter, you evidently did not understand, did not comprehend.
Luc. Comprehend what?
Cha. The country that my mother is gone to.
Luc. No.
Cha. It is the Country of Peace, of Repose, – the only land from which the mother cannot return to console her child.
Luc. (making a movement as if to show herself). Then, sir, am I to understand that if you lost – you would – (stops, and reseats herself) – he has no mother!
Cha. It would not interest you, madam, to learn all these details; but please to remember that you are not my friend George, and that I’ve not absolutely gone on my knees to you to read my letter.
Luc. (aside, looking at Charles). Just imagine if it were him! (Rising with animation.) Well, sir, I don’t repent of having read your letter: in fact, I congratulate myself on having done so; and I am also glad to see you here, for now I can implore you, beseech you, to renounce such fatal plans; to beg of you with clasped hands to do so, in the name of your mother.
Cha. Madam!
Luc. Listen, sir. I cannot explain to you my object in being so curious; but what is your name?
Cha. Charleston King.
Luc. Sir!
Cha. That is my veil. If you want to take it off, remove your own.
Luc. No, sir: that is impossible; but —
Cha. In that case, madam, I am Charleston King, too lazy to do any thing, but quite at your service.
Luc. (aside). What shall I do? (Looking round, sees flowers.) Ah! (Takes a sprig of May, and comes towards Cha.) Sir, we are about to part, probably never to meet again; would it be repugnant to your feelings to accept a souvenir?
Cha. Pardon, madam, but you don’t propose giving me a dressing-case?
Luc. Don’t be alarmed. The souvenir I give you, do you promise to keep it?
Cha. For ever, madam, I swear it. (Aside.) What can it be?
Luc. (kissing sprig, and leaning against back of Cha.’s chair). Take it.
Cha. (looking at it, but not taking it). A sprig of May!
Luc. Upon which I have just left a kiss. (Cha. moves.) You have sworn never to part with it. Good! Should you persist in your fatal project, at the moment when you are about to commit this frightful act, perhaps my poor little sprig may catch your eye; perhaps it will remind you of the days of your childhood, those happy days that have fled away; those Sundays when your mother’s smile was upon you as you filled your little arms with flowers, and brought your childish offering to her knees.
Cha. Keep still, my heart!
Luc. If you should have such thoughts, your courage will be tried; for, in speaking to you of me, my little sprig will also remind you of your mother; and if you should still desire —
Cha. (seizing sprig). No, no! I have no longer any such desire (seizing her hand, and kissing it, slides upon his knees). I swear it to you on my knees. But I must see the angel who – (Lifts his head, when Lucy turns away). Ah, cruel! This hand at least I hold.
[Covers it with kisses.
Luc. Give me my hand, sir, or else —
Cha. Or else —
Luc. Tell me your name.
Cha. Shall I see your face?
Luc. No, no! I cannot possibly —
Cha. Madam, I implore you! I beseech you!
Eliz. (outside). It’s me, mam. There’s no key.
Luc. Elizabeth! – Get up at once, and return to your room, I implore you!
Cha. Madam, I obey you; but —
Luc. (going towards door). Thanks, sir, and don’t forget my lecture.
Cha. (entering his room). In thinking of you, madam, I shall always remember it.