ilifornia 
 
 ional 
 
 ility 
 
 
 HE ENGLISH VERSION BY 
 
 i.CRANVlLLE BARKER
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Kenneth Maogowan
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 A COMEDY 
 
 BY 
 
 SACHA GUITRY 
 
 IN AN ENGLISH VERSION 
 
 BY 
 
 HARLEY GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON 
 
 TkmchcrbocUcr press 
 1921
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1921 
 
 BY 
 H. GRANVILLE BARKER 
 
 The acting rights of Deburau for the United States and Canada are owned 
 and controlled by David Belasco. 
 
 Printed in the United States of America
 
 College 
 Library 
 
 NOTE 
 
 It was the business of the present translator of 
 Deburau and therefore he hesitates formally to 
 adopt the title to provide for English speaking 
 actors, as nearly as might be, parallel opportuni- 
 ties to those the French had enjoyed in the pro- 
 duction of the play. No theory of dramatic 
 translation was brought into question; this was 
 the task set. 
 
 It was easy and obvious then to keep to the 
 irregular verse, if the difficulty of peppering it 
 with rhymes was faced. This was both that any 
 hint of the peculiarly English blank verse might 
 be avoided and with it any temptation to weighti- 
 ness of speech be the better shunned, and that a 
 certain amusing artificiality, even impertinence 
 of method might be added by the actor quite 
 noticeably added. 
 
 Sacha Guitry's meaning has, it is hoped, been 
 stuck to, detail by detail. But where it has seemed 
 
 3 
 
 572683
 
 NOTE 
 
 that only a paraphrase could avoid the appearance 
 of labouring it (a sin that he never commits) the 
 English does sometimes travel wide of the literal 
 mark. And it is, generally speaking, upon such 
 lines as these that, when questions have arisen, 
 the decisions have, one by one, each for some 
 practical end, been made. 
 
 One could defend this method in theory. The 
 play is material for the actor. In any translation 
 he must perforce be presented with goods that 
 have lost their first freshness in transit. There 
 will be points where to think and feel as a foreigner 
 will render him as unintelligible to his audience 
 as the foreign speech itself would do. One must 
 "adapt," bearing in mind what his means of inter- 
 pretation are. Cutting is seldom a good way out 
 of a difficulty; the play is too soon impoverished 
 and its structure weakened. The translator, in- 
 deed, is more often under the temptation, knowing, 
 as he goes along, how much is being lost, to attempt 
 to compensate by addition. For the actor is de- 
 manding and has a right to full measure of 
 material. With his task to come he will be at a 
 grave disadvantage without it. Does this mean 
 that if it cannot be supplied him according to the 
 
 4
 
 NOTE 
 
 strict rules of translation he and we should go 
 without altogether? Possibly. 
 
 But a play in any case must not be judged by 
 the printed page where it lies inanimate, incom- 
 plete. That first translation from its author's 
 mind is but one of many, and whether it be found 
 completed in a native or an alien theatre, the dif- 
 ference is but of the number of removes, the num- 
 ber and variety of translators that will have been 
 employed. 
 
 This is neither excuse nor justification for any 
 liberties that follow though indeed, they are not 
 numerous or ever wilful but there is implied a 
 recommendation to read M. Sacha Guitry's play 
 in the original when such a far better opportunity 
 occurs. 
 
 H. G. B.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE PROLOGUE n 
 
 THE FIRST ACT 19 
 
 THE SECOND ACT 85 
 
 THE THIRD ACT 127 
 
 THE FOURTH ACT . . .187
 
 THE PEOPLE OF THE PLAY 
 
 of the Theatre 
 Funambules 
 
 des 
 
 JEAN GASPARD DEBURAU 
 
 MARIE DUPLESSIS 
 
 MONSIEUR BERTRAND 
 
 ROBILLARD 
 
 LAURENT 
 
 LAPLACE 
 
 JUSTINE 
 
 MADAME RfiBARD 
 
 CLARA 
 
 HONORINE 
 
 CLEMENT 
 
 THE BARKER 1 
 
 THE MONEY TAKER 
 
 THE PROMPTER 
 
 MADAME RABOUIN 
 
 CHARLES DEBURAU 
 
 A YOUNG MAN 
 
 A DOCTOR 
 
 A LADY 
 
 A JOURNALIST 
 
 MARIE DUPLESSIS' MAID 
 
 1 The French word Aboyeur has found its way to America, 
 though hardly to England, in the simple translation "Barker." 
 This is the man who stands outside the booth with a big drum and 
 barks out the attractions of the show within.
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS 
 
 In the pantomime the parts are thus distributed : 
 
 PIERROT Jean Gaspard Deburau 
 
 THE OLD CLO' MAN Laurent 
 
 CASSANDRE Laplace 
 
 THE MARQUIS f Clement 
 
 THE DUCHESS Madame Regard 
 
 COLUMBINE Justine 
 
 THE SOUBRETTE Clara 
 
 There is besides an orchestra of two violins, a piano, 
 a double bass, a cornet. 
 
 Among the audience watching the play in the 
 Theatre des Funambules can be seen Victor Hugo, 
 Georges Sand, and Alfred de Musset. 
 
 The prologue is given in front of the theatre, the 
 first act in the auditorium, the second at Marie Du- 
 plessis', the third in Deburau's garret, and the fourth 
 act in the theatre again. 
 
 We are in Paris in 1839. 
 
 10
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 The scene is in front of the Theatre des Funam- 
 bules 1 (The Rope-dancers). Bertrand, the money- 
 taker, a faded little woman, and the Barker are 
 to be seen; the Barker with his big drum is very 
 prominent. The orchestra is seated on a bench 
 playing away. 
 
 By the door a written bill is hanging, which 
 announces : 
 
 BY SPECIAL LICENCE 
 
 TO-DAY 
 
 SEPTEMBER 21, 1839 
 
 FOR THIS OCCASION ONLY 
 
 THE WONDERFUL PERFORMANCE 
 
 OF 
 
 THE OLD CLO' MAN 
 
 BY 
 
 M. COT. D'ORDAN 
 
 IN WHICH 
 JEAN GASPARD DEBURAU 
 
 WILL APPEAR 
 
 'If an English equivalent is needed, the "Follies" Theatre 
 seems as good as another. 
 
 II
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 Another placard on the door of the theatre tells 
 
 us the prices of the seats. 
 The orchestra stops. The Barker with his big 
 
 drum steps forward and begins : 
 Barker: 
 
 Pleasure seekers of Paris, you never need be at a 
 
 Loss for amusement while you have our theatre. 
 
 First, O mighty population, 
 
 Admire the moderation 
 
 Of the prices that we charge! 
 
 Come in a cab, or in a coach and four, 
 
 We do not ask you more. 
 
 No, you can cut a dash, and cut it thrifty, 
 
 In our stage boxes which are one franc fifty. 
 
 The upper boxes are not quite so large 
 
 But you sit closer to her. Man alive, 
 
 Aren't they a bargain at one franc twenty- 
 five! 
 
 Orchestra . . . fifteen sous. 
 
 Can you do 
 
 Better for fifteen sous? 
 
 But, wait a bit ! 
 
 We admit 
 
 You to the pit 
 
 For ten, 
 
 12
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And one word more ! 
 
 Though when 
 
 I tell you you may wonder how we do it, yet we do; 
 
 you can get into the gallery for four. 
 And what a show! 
 Surely you know 
 That there's nothing to touch it. 
 Its merits are such it 
 What, sir! You're going next door! 
 Well, it's not one of my ways 
 To say a word in dispraise 
 Of a rival. 
 Thank God, here we don't need to boast, we can 
 
 afford to be modest and civil 
 But, it's kinder to warn you . . . though truly 
 
 you'll go there just once and no more. 
 Unless you prefer some people do of course 
 A singer that's hoarse; 
 And a dancer rheumatic; 
 And acrobats about as acrobatic 
 As a spavined broken-winded cab horse ; 
 A comedian, as witty as the wild Man of Borneo. 
 That's the fare 
 You'll get there, 
 
 By all means try it, my dear sir. 
 
 13
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 While here you've Deburau 
 
 That marvellous Pierrot. 
 
 The one and only 
 
 Supreme and lonely 
 
 In his fame. 
 
 For all the others, all Pierrots 
 
 Before he came, 
 
 Were nothing better than puppets of wood. 
 
 He's the first that has understood 
 
 What can be made of that weird white figure. 
 
 You sit and wonder how it's done. 
 
 Never a word he speaks, and yet 
 
 Never a wink to point the fun 
 
 And yet you laugh, 
 
 And yet you feel your eyes grow bigger. 
 
 You may even feel the tears come tumbling. 
 
 How does he do it, how with half 
 
 Not half not a quarter of what other actors 
 
 get 
 
 Words and music and make-up to help them? 
 I must say it's humbling 
 (If I were an actor I'd feel it so) 
 To be left no , 
 
 Nowhere at all by a mere Pierrot, 
 By a bundle of white rags called Pierrot.
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And when Pierrot 
 
 Is Deburau 
 
 That's so. 
 
 For the rest of the cast : 
 
 Alexandre Monsieur Laplace; The Marshall 
 
 Laurent the Front places ? No, sir, I much fear 
 
 that we've sold the last. 
 No, not quite the last. 
 There are just two 
 Left. Will they do? 
 Laurent, the Marshall, Madame R6bard, la 
 
 Duchesse. 
 Can I give you her address . . . her private 
 
 address ? 
 
 I could! The soubrette 
 Mademoiselle Clara is the soubrette. 
 One more yet. 
 Columbine, Justine. 
 Yes, indeed, Justine ! 
 And where have you been 
 Not to know Justine? 
 Shell turn your head when she turns on her 
 
 toe. 
 
 (Which Justine! Are there twenty Justines?) 
 New dresses ! New scenes ! 
 
 15
 
 THE PROLOGUE 
 
 And a new two-act play 
 Entitled" Old Clo'!" 
 We begin. Right a way! 
 
 He retires. The orchestra strikes up again and 
 the scene changes to the inside of the theatre, 
 where we face the stage upon which the perform- 
 ance of "The Old Clo' Man" is proceeding . . . 
 
 16
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 THE FIRST ACT
 
 THE FIRST ACT 
 
 . The house is full and enthusiastic. 
 Some of the audience are fashionably dressed; and 
 in one of the boxes is Victor Hugo with Georges 
 Sand and Alfred de Musset. But the greater part 
 of the people there are "the people," and some of 
 the men are in their shirt sleeves. Before the 
 curtain rose, no doubt they were whistling, sing- 
 ing, jostling one another while they waited. 
 
 (Here follows the story of "The Old Clo' Man" 
 as told by Theophile Gautier in the Revue de Paris 
 of September 4, 1842.) 
 
 "The scene is a street, a 'public place' just as it 
 would be in a Molire play. Pierrot is walking to 
 and fro, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves, head 
 bent, and lagging feet. He is sad, his bosom is 
 charged with secret sorrow. But his heart is 
 empty and his purse no fuller; for if he asks his 
 
 19
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 master, Cassandre, for money, all he gets is one of 
 those most peremptory kicks which make up so 
 large a part of pantomime dialogue. 
 
 "Poor Pierrot! What a wretched business! 
 Kicks, but no halfpence. Little to eat and that 
 not often. Can we wonder that he looks pale ; who 
 wouldn't? And to crown his misery Pierrot is in 
 love, not with Columbine's pretty black-eyed phiz 
 and lozenged flounces, but with a lady, a very 
 great lady, a duchess at least, whom he saw getting 
 out of her carriage, at a church door, at the opera, 
 no matter where. In love as he is and half -starved 
 as well Pierrot is really afraid that his looks may 
 suffer. He feels his nose; it has grown so thin; 
 his legs, they're no bigger than a ballet dancer's 
 arms. But that is not what really troubles him, 
 for, after all, a lover only looks more interesting 
 for looking wan and pale. He longs to go into the 
 great world of fashion where he may see his adored 
 one and Pierrot has no clothes at all but his 
 blouse and his baggy white trousers. What, go 
 to a duchess's party dressed like that ! Neither 
 clothes nor money, what can he do? How make 
 his way into those marvellous gardens of Eden, 
 all glorious with the glitter of candelabra, with 
 
 20
 
 ACT I 
 
 ladies, with flowers he has seen them vaguely 
 shining through the lighted windows of the houses 
 of the great. 
 
 "While Pierrot is a prey to these bitter thoughts, 
 cursing his gods, fortune, and fate, there passes by 
 an old clo' man with his pack of cast-off garments. 
 
 '"Oh, if I only had that apple-green coat and 
 those fine striped trousers,' says Pierrot to himself, 
 his eye shining covetously, his fingers itching from 
 temptation; and even as he says it he stretches 
 his hand out and draws it back, once and again. 
 The old clo' man has just been buying the dis- 
 carded wardrobe of a National Guard, past the 
 age limit, whose sword he carries under his arm, 
 looking rather less warlike than an umbrella. Its 
 innocent brass hilt is there, to Pierrot's very hand, 
 and he seizes it. The old clo' man is going his 
 way unconscious. Pierrot but stands motionless 
 grasping the hilt of the sword, and the blade is 
 swiftly drawn from the sheath which the old man 
 carries along with him. From the shining blade a 
 devilish thought is reflected in Pierrot's face and in 
 an instant he sheathes it again, not in its scabbard, 
 but in the body of the poor wretch before him ; runs 
 him through and through, and he falls stone dead. 
 
 21
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 ' ' Pierrot, quite unconcerned, takes from the pack 
 the smartest clothes he can find, and then, to 
 cover the traces of his crime, flings the corpse 
 through the grating of a cellar. Safe from dis- 
 covery then, he is off home, to dress himself in 
 his finery and to set out to find the great lady of 
 his love. When all of a sudden, up pushes the cellar 
 flap and through it his victim's ghost arises, wrapped 
 in a trailing shroud, the point of the sword blade 
 still sticking from his breast and calling in a hollow 
 voice, just as before 'Old Clo'! Old Clo'!' 
 
 " How shall one picture the terror on Pierrot's 
 whitened face as he hears this voice from the tomb ! 
 He makes up his mind though to be done once and 
 for all with such fears and hallucinations. And he 
 snatches a great billet of wood from a stack near 
 by and begins a terrible fight with the ghost, 
 which escapes and parries the first few blows, but 
 in the end gets the great billet full on the head. 
 It knocks him clean into the cellar again. Pierrot, 
 to make assurance doubly sure, hurriedly throws 
 all the logs of wood on the top of him, and then, 
 piling sarcasm upon villainy too, he leans his head 
 over the grating and imitating the ghost's voice, 
 calls 'Old Clo'! Old Clo'!' 
 
 22
 
 ACT I 
 
 "Is not this an excellent spectacle, a fine jest, a 
 queer imagining, such as Shakespeare himself 
 would not have disowned!" 
 
 Unluckily the limitations of the theatre have 
 obliged the present author, this first scene over, 
 to simplify and to pick out from among the aston- 
 ishing events of the play, those which the needs of 
 his own, as he has planned it, will allow him 
 
 This is how Theophile Gautier's account of it 
 ends, after he has described the horrifyingly 
 ridiculous ball where Pierrot meets his death and 
 the just punishment of his crime in the embrace 
 of the Old Clo' Man who, that he may dance the 
 better, presses him to his bosom, in such a fashion 
 that "the victim and his murderer are spitted on 
 one sword as two beetles might be stuck on the 
 same pin." 
 
 And he adds : 
 
 "Is not this a queer play, with its mixture of 
 horror and laughter? Have not the ghost of 
 Banquo and the shade of Hamlet a quite peculiar 
 relation to the spectre of the Old Clo' Man and is 
 it not very interesting to find a Shakespeare at 
 the ' Funambules' ? This little performance en- 
 
 23
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 shrines a deep, a true, a highly moral mythos, 
 which has no need to be embedded in Sanskrit, to 
 give rise to a cloud of commentaries, to be under- 
 stood. 
 
 "Pierrot walking the street in his white blouse, 
 his baggy white trousers, his floured face, lost in 
 his dreams, does not that symbolize for us the 
 human heart, still white and innocent, but wrung 
 by cruel longings for the things beyond its reach ? 
 The sword hilt presenting itself to his grasp, beck- 
 oning him with its treacherous yellow glitter, is 
 not that a most striking symbol of the power of 
 opportunity over the already weakened and dis- 
 tracted mind? The ease with which the blade 
 slips through the victim's body denotes how easy 
 crime is, and how one single action may cost us our 
 immortal soul. When he first seized the sword Pier- 
 rot meant nothing but a bit of mischief . The ghost 
 of the old man rising from the cellar tells us that 
 crime will out, and when Pierrot with a blow from 
 the wooden billet knocks the poor ghost back into 
 its depths again, does not the author most aptly 
 demonstrate that while with much effort we may 
 stave off our punishment, for all that the day of 
 reckoning never fails? The ghost stands for re- 
 
 24
 
 ACT I 
 
 morse, how vividly, terribly, enfigured ! The little 
 phrase 'Old Clo'!' which can throw Pierrot into 
 such an agony of fear is as great a stroke of 
 genius as Macbeth's famous 'It will have blood!' 
 The victim was uttering his cry at the moment of 
 his murder; the words and accent are stamped 
 forever in the murderer's memory. And the scene 
 in which Pierrot declares his love while the ghost 
 is heard muttering under the floor, and every now 
 and then sticking his head up, does not that show 
 us and how vividly! that nothing, nothing can 
 still the remorse lying deep down in our hearts? 
 Well may he try to forget, to intoxicate himself 
 with wine or with passion, the spectre is always 
 there. Ever at his side he feels the chill breath and 
 hears the chuckling whisper ' Old Clo' ! Old Clo' !' ' ' 
 
 So soon as the play is over the audience having 
 enthusiastically called for Deburau the theatre 
 empties quickly. One lady, rather good-looking, 
 takes care to remain the last, and then hides her- 
 self. A moment later no one is left but M. Ber- 
 trand, Robillard, the Money-Taker, the Barker, 
 and this lady.
 
 THE FIRST ACT 
 
 Robillard 
 That's a go if you like! 
 
 Bertrand 
 What an audience! Such class! 
 
 Robillard 
 How much in the house? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 She's totting it up now. I don't know when 
 We've done better. 
 
 Money-Taker 
 
 I'm just through. Two-seven- 
 three-ten . . . 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Hurry up ! Here you can pass 
 Me over the transfers. I'll strike 
 A balance with them. 
 
 27
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Money-Taker 
 
 They're somewhere close 
 On twenty-eight francs! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Call it twenty-eight. 
 
 Money-Taker 
 
 Seven-o-three and twenty-eight makes seven hun- 
 dred and thirty-three. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Can't be! 
 
 Money-Taker 
 It is! 
 
 Robillard 
 Show me ! 
 
 Money-Taker 
 You'll see ... it's as I've said. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 We only hold seven hundred. At this rate 
 We'll want a larger theatre. 
 
 28
 
 ACT I 
 
 Money-Taker 
 
 And three seventy-five for oranges. 
 And two for gingerbread. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 And what a triumph for Deburau ! 
 And he found in his dressing-room ... do you 
 
 know 
 When he came ... a bunch of roses. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Oh, these society ladies! 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Yes, I suppose he's 
 Got one of them after him again ! 
 But he has a way, 
 
 Rather a nice way, of choking them off. 
 He always carries in his pocket 
 A little picture of his wife. And, oh, the shock it 
 Is when he takes it out, just when he has made his 
 Greatest impression. And then he'll say, 
 "Isn't she pretty?" And they're bound to agree, 
 And . . . well, that is the end of that, you see! 
 Have you ever seen her? No, she has never been 
 here. 
 
 29
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Ah, we may laugh; 
 
 But he's quite right, 
 
 Though it may sound queer. 
 
 His place is here and hers is at home. 
 
 That suits some. 
 
 By the way, who was that here to-night, 
 
 A striking face and long black hair, 
 
 Very long hair and very black? 
 
 He sat there. 
 
 The Barker 
 
 What is his name? Oh, yes, I know it ... 
 Victor something beginning with H. That's 
 
 right. 
 
 He's a sort of a Poet . . . 
 Victor Huguet. That's it. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Hugo. 
 
 The Barker 
 Huguet. 
 
 Bertrand 
 No, no! 
 Victor Hugo! 
 
 30
 
 ACT I 
 
 The Barker 
 Well, what's the odds, Huguet or Hugo! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Here, who's that hiding at the back 
 Of that box? 
 
 He goes towards a lady who is sitting dis- 
 creetly in the shadow of an empty box and 
 asks most politely 
 
 Pardon me, are you waiting for . . . ? 
 
 The Lady 
 
 Monsieur Deburau. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Oh, of course, quite so. 
 
 He comes back and announces in a whisper 
 to the others . . . 
 
 Deburau ! 
 
 Robillard 
 Ah ha! She's the one that brought the roses. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 And what about his dear wife now! 
 A pity it's to-night she chooses.
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 I'd have stood you all a supper. But how 
 Could we do without Deburau? 
 
 Robillard 
 Oh, no! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 A nuisance we've lost him! 
 We'd have been seven . . . eight . . . nine 
 . . . ten ... 
 
 The Barker 
 (to the Money-Taker, behind his hand) 
 
 Watch him adding up what it's not going to cost 
 him! 
 
 Bertrand 
 Ah, well, some other time, when . . . 
 
 Justine has come through the little pass 
 door to join the group. 
 
 Justine 
 
 What a performance ! 7 never had 
 Such a success ! 
 How much in the house? 
 
 32
 
 ACT I 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Oh, not so bad. 
 
 Justine 
 How much? 
 
 Bertrand 
 Well, guess 
 
 Justine 
 Six hundred? 
 
 Bertrand 
 More! 
 
 Justine 
 No! 
 
 Bertrand 
 Nearly eight! 
 
 Laurent, following close, now joins them. 
 
 Justine 
 Eight hundred. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Eight hundred what? 
 a 33
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Justine 
 
 Francs in the house! 
 
 Laplace and Clara arrive. 
 
 Laplace 
 How much? 
 
 Laurent 
 Guess. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Over eight hundred francs ! 
 
 Clara 
 
 Monsieur Bertrand, for eight hundred francs 
 I think you give thanks 
 
 By taking your talented company out on a spree. 
 We await 
 A carouse ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 I would . . . but Deburau can't come. 
 
 Justine 
 Why on earth can't he? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Look and see. 
 34
 
 ACT I 
 
 Clara 
 What? 
 
 Robillard 
 Sh! 
 
 Clara 
 Where? 
 
 Robillard 
 There. 
 
 Justine 
 For our model husband! I'm struck dumb! 
 
 Clara 
 I don't think much of her, I declare. 
 
 Robillard 
 Why not? 
 
 Clara 
 Forty-five if she's a day ! 
 
 Robillard 
 You may be right. 
 
 Justine 
 
 It must be dreadful to be forty-five. 
 
 35
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard 
 
 I doubt, my dear, if at the pace you live 
 You'll be much troubled in that way. 
 Good-night. 
 
 Clara 
 Not waiting for your dear Deburau? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 No. Good-night. 
 
 Madame Rebard arrives, buttonholing 
 Robillard on his way out. 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Has he gone? 
 
 Robillard 
 Who? 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Deburau. 
 
 Robillard 
 Not yet. Good-night, all. 
 
 Everyone 
 Good-night. 
 
 Robillard departs. 
 36
 
 ACT I 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Well, what sort of a house? 
 
 Bertrand 
 Nearly nine hundred francs. 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Well! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 I've always feared I'd find this house too small. 
 They were standing at the back in ranks! 
 
 Clement passes at the back on his way 
 out. 
 
 Clement 
 Good-night all. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Clement ! 
 
 Clement 
 Guvnor ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Come here. 
 
 You and I have a bone to pick. 
 
 37
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Clement 
 What about? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 You know what about. 
 Now kindly hear 
 What I've got to say. 
 Do you mean, or don't you mean, to stick 
 To your contract ? 
 
 Clement 
 Guvnor ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 This isn't the way 
 
 To do it. To-day is Friday if I'm not mistaken 
 And your contract says am I far out? 
 That Thursday's your day of the week to get 
 
 drunk on. 
 
 Now, how many glasses have you taken 
 To-day? Thank you, don't trouble to put it in 
 
 words, I can tell 
 Pretty accurately say to within fourteen by 
 
 the . . . ! 
 
 What the devil's to be done with you? Aren't you 
 ashamed? 
 
 38
 
 ACT I 
 
 Clement 
 Yes, I am. 
 
 Not of drinking though 
 And you don't care a damn 
 If I'm sober or not, you know. 
 You don't, when it doesn't show. 
 Well, I may be a sot, 
 
 But am I a child to be hauled up and blamed? 
 And this lying about it . . . ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 Then why do you drink? 
 
 Clement 
 
 Because I like drinking; why else do you think? 
 Guvnor, you want me to stick to my contract. 
 
 That's fair. 
 Well, here's a fair offer. Make the one day into 
 
 two, and I will. There! 
 
 Bertrand 
 Two? 
 
 Clement 
 
 Monday and Thursday. 'Twon't hurt you 
 to give me Monday, 
 39
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Monday the house is never full. 
 
 So why shouldn't I be. 'Scuse my vulgarity. 
 
 It'll pay you. Besides, it's an act of charity. 
 
 My self-respect sort of goes on strike 
 
 When I'm tied down by rule 
 
 To make a beast of myself upon one day. 
 
 That's an offence against human dignity. 
 
 Ask any other man how he would like 
 
 To be made such a slave of! He d not give a fig, 
 
 not he, 
 For contracts. My shame? Yes, I'm lost in it, 
 
 sunk in it. 
 If you've but one day to drink in you're bound to 
 
 get drunk in it. 
 
 You give me two days. Let's try how that plan 
 Works. If I'm drunk, well, at least I'll be drunk 
 
 like a man. 
 Is it a bargain? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Two days? Next time I shall give 
 you the lot. 
 
 Clement 
 
 The chuck? 
 
 40
 
 ACT I 
 
 Bertrand 
 You deserve it. Do you, or not? 
 
 Clement 
 
 Oh, if you chucked me I shouldn't blame you. 
 Guvnor . . . here's something on which you can 
 
 sleep. 
 If I weren't such a damned good actor and you 
 
 didn't get me so cheap 
 I'd have walked off long since and not stayed here 
 
 to shame you. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Quite so ... quite so. ... 
 Well ... we all have our failings, I know! 
 To-day's Friday. Saturday, Sunday, Monday? 
 
 Monday will be all right. 
 But not a day more, remember! 
 
 Clement 
 
 Word of honour. Good-night. 
 Clement goes out. 
 
 Justine 
 
 Clara, who was that 
 Woman who sat
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 At the back of that box . . . 
 You couldn't see much but the pair of black eyes 
 of her . . . ? 
 
 Clara 
 Sh ! There she is waiting for . . . 
 
 Justine 
 
 No, no, not she! 
 Very dark this one was, very thin. And two black 
 
 locks 
 
 Made her face look even thinner. 
 Diamonds on! 
 
 Very solemn, very affected, that was the size of her. 
 No, she's gone. 
 
 Clara 
 I don't think I know her. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 It was Marie Duplessis. 
 
 Clara 
 Oh! 
 
 Justine 
 No! 
 
 42
 
 ACT I 
 
 Laurent 
 Yes, indeed. 
 
 Justine 
 Well, as I'm a sinner! 
 
 Clara 
 
 There you are! It's a weed 
 Of a woman like that men go mad about. 
 Not even pretty ! 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Not a bit . . . what you'd call pretty. 
 Clara 
 
 Now, don't be clever. 
 How old is she? 
 
 Laurent 
 Eighteen. 
 
 Justine 
 
 Oh, did you ever! 
 Innocent ! ! 
 
 Laurent 
 Well, a brother of mine who's a doctor helped bring 
 
 her into the world. He ought to know 
 And he says so. 
 
 43
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Clara 
 Consumptive, isn't she? 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Yes, she went 
 That way early. 
 
 Justine 
 Oh, what a pity! 
 
 Clara 
 
 Yes, it's sad about 
 That. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 She's like a candle flame, 
 
 A rough breath will have it out. Can you blame 
 Men if they bring lanterns of gold 
 With such a candle to hold? 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Sh! Deburau . . . ! 
 
 Clara 
 Oh, give him an entrance! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 How? 
 44
 
 ACT I 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 I've an idea. Let's all stand in a row and bow. 
 
 Laurent 
 Stand in a row? 
 
 Laplace 
 And bow? 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Well, really, I say, 
 If you all of you feel 
 Such rapt admiration I suggest that you kneel. 
 
 Deburau conies from the stage. He carries 
 the bunch of roses which he leaves on a bench. 
 He listens for a moment, then joins the others. 
 Laurent, not observing him, goes on . . . 
 
 Laurent 
 
 I admire the man, too. 
 But, surely we'll do 
 
 Our dear Gaspard a better turn in the end 
 If we're cooler and critical 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Quite right, quite right. 
 
 Always be chary of praising your friends. Good- 
 night. 
 
 45
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Justine 
 Oh ... Good-night. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 So long! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Till to-morrow. 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 
 You're going? 
 Deburau 
 
 Why Yes. 
 
 Bertrand 
 But she's waiting. 
 
 Deburau 
 She? 
 
 Clara 
 There. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Where? 
 
 Clara 
 
 There; see the tip 
 
 of her dress. 
 46
 
 ACT I 
 
 Deburau 
 This isn't a joke? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 No, she asked for you . . . 
 came and asked me! 
 
 Deburau 
 What a nuisance ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 She brought you the roses, you'll see. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well, I must say thank you, I suppose. 
 Don't leave us alone now, whatever you do. 
 
 He goes rather unwittingly towards the 
 hidden lady. 
 Madame, are you waiting . . . ? 
 
 The Lady 
 Yes, I was waiting . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 
 To see me? 
 47
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 The Lady 
 
 To see you. 
 
 Or rather to hear you speak. 
 Remember, nobody hears you speak. 
 It's uncanny to have so much said 
 To one in silence. So, if I saw you close, 
 I thought forgive me it might break the spell. 
 Or if you wove another one . . . well . . . ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 How good of you ! I know it must seem a freak 
 Of nature to be able to hold one's tongue. 
 D'you want to know how I do it? It's simple: 
 Go and sit among 
 Your friends and follow the thread 
 Of their talk. If you can get them to talk about you 
 So much the better. The whole thing lies 
 In the art of listening. For example . . . 
 
 The Lady 
 
 Forgive me would you turn your eyes 
 To the right a little. Your friends here 
 Are experts in that art, I fear. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's true. 
 
 48
 
 ACT I 
 
 The Lady 
 So suppose we went . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Where? 
 
 The Lady 
 
 Anywhere 
 A little less crowded . . . and empty. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Together? 
 The Lady 
 My carriage is in the square. 
 
 Deburau 
 Quite so ... 
 
 He begins to feel in his pockets. 
 
 The Lady 
 What's the matter? 
 
 Deburau 
 I was wondering whether . . . 
 
 The Lady 
 
 Your watch? It's not late. 
 4 49
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No, not my watch. 
 A miniature 
 
 That I always cany, I wasn't sure 
 I hadn't lost it, I wouldn't for worlds. Here we 
 are! 
 
 He has fished a little miniature out of 
 his pocket. 
 
 The Lady 
 
 What is it? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 As a painting, of course, not much of a catch ! 
 My wife! Pretty, isn't she? 
 
 The Lady 
 
 Very. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Most women think so. I suppose the dress 
 Looks a little old-fashioned. I wish she were here. 
 But if one day you'd care to pay her a visit . . . 
 Not now, of course. You're in a hurry . . . 
 I'd so like you to meet her. May I tell her we met ? 
 May I give her these roses from you? 
 
 50
 
 ACT I 
 
 The Lady 
 
 What roses? 
 Deburau 
 These that you sent me. 
 
 The Lady 
 
 That /sent! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 My manager thought so, not I. I suppose he's 
 Mistaken. 
 
 The Lady (icily) 
 We all make mistakes. I regret 
 I've detained you. 
 
 Deburau (a little wryly) 
 
 I fear 
 That I'm more satisfactory seen and not heard. 
 
 The Lady 
 
 No, indeed, you're quite magnificent! 
 How this sort of thing must try your patience. 
 Good-night. Give your wife my congratulations. 
 
 The Lady departs so quickly that he has 
 no time even to see her to the door
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 Thank you , I will . ( Then to himself) : How absurd, 
 
 how absurd! 
 Another time 
 I swear that I'll do it in pantomime! 
 
 Justine 
 Oh, she's off! 
 
 Bertrand 
 What, has she gone? 
 
 Deburau (to himself) 
 But she wasn't . . . 
 
 Clara 
 And you've let her go ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well . . . she wasn't the one . . . 
 And there always is one . . . just one, you know. 
 
 Robillard is heard calling as he returns. 
 
 Robillard 
 Deburau . . . Deburau! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 What's that? 
 52 
 
 i
 
 ACT I 
 
 Robittard 
 
 Deburau! 
 
 Deburau 
 Hullo! 
 
 Robillard arrives much out of breath, and 
 brandishing a newspaper. 
 
 Robillard 
 Have you heard ? 
 
 Deburau 
 Not a word. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 You're in luck, you are ! 
 
 Look what's in the Journal des D$bats. 
 
 Deburau (seeing the heading) 
 Deburau ! 
 
 Robillard 
 Signed 'Jules Janin.' 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 I say! 
 
 Justine 
 Let's see. 
 
 53
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Bertrand 
 My boy, this is fame. 
 
 Laurent 
 Is it a slating? That's a shame. 
 
 Robillard 
 A slating ! 
 
 Deburau 
 Why should he slate me, I'd like to know? 
 
 Robillard (to Laurent) 
 You need not worry anyway, 
 Your name's not in it, 
 
 (To Laplace) 
 Nor yours ; nor mine. 
 
 Justine 
 Gaspard, read it aloud this minute! 
 
 Laurent 
 Don't ask him that. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No, reading aloud 
 Isn't my line. 
 
 54
 
 ACT I 
 
 I'm not even proud 
 
 Of my powers of speech. Now, if I could give it 
 
 you in dumb show ! 
 You read it, friend Laurent; you'll make it sound 
 
 fine. 
 
 Laurent 
 With pleasure. 
 
 Deburau 
 Now I call 
 That kind. The floor is yours. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Attention all. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 "Deburau is the greatest actor of our time; for 
 he has revolutionized the actor's art, given us a 
 new Pierrot and another sort of pantomime. 
 Without a word spoken, with never a violent ac- 
 tion, with hardly a change of expression, yet with 
 nothing left unfelt or unsaid, with every meaning 
 and emotion flashed clear upon our minds here 
 is an actor who could play you all the parts in 
 Moliere without ever opening his mouth. How 
 
 55
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 is it done ? Go to the Follies Theatre and discover 
 if you can. 
 
 "Whatever else you have to do, go to the Follies 
 Theatre. If you have nothing else to do, go to the 
 Follies and see Deburau. 
 
 "And you need go to no other. For in him you 
 find a thousand actors in one. A thousand actors 
 with their thousand countenances, their thousand 
 twists and turns, flashes of merriment, dashes of 
 tears, the power of their passion as it ebbs and 
 flows. The sunshine of this art puts every other 
 theatre in the shade. These thousand actors have 
 but one name Deburau." 
 
 There's a lot more like this. 
 
 The listening actors all but Robillard 
 look very blank indeed. 
 
 Laplace 
 Well! 
 
 Justine 
 Wonderful ! 
 
 Laurent 
 What a notice ! 
 56
 
 ACT I 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 That ought to fill 
 The house to-morrow. 
 
 The Barker (to himself) 
 Look at them swallowing the pill ! 
 
 Clara 
 Jules Janin, indeed ! 
 
 Robillard 
 Well, he knows what he's talking about. 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 He does. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 We shall sell out to-morrow, we shall 
 certainly sell out. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 (to Deburau who stands distressed a little apart} 
 What's the matter? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, can't you feel it in the air 
 How they hate it? 
 
 57
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard 
 Let them ! 
 
 Deburau 
 But how they hate me ! Look 
 
 at them there. 
 
 I'll just explain that I never intended . . . 
 If I'd thought for a moment there was that in 
 
 it ... 
 I was so thankful when it ended. 
 
 (He turns to the others.') 
 
 I really do give you my word 
 
 It was the first I'd heard of that. 
 
 And honestly . . . well, it's a little absurd! 
 
 Laplace 
 I don't find it so for a minute. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No, not of the theatre, of all of us, 
 But absurd, written only of me. 
 
 Robillard 
 I don't agree. 
 
 58
 
 ACT I 
 
 Bertrand 
 I don't agree! 
 
 Laurent 
 Tell me . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes? 
 
 Laurent 
 Do you know him? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Who? 
 
 Laplace 
 
 This what's his name who makes such a fuss 
 Of your acting, is he a friend of yours? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, I see what you're getting at ! 
 A personal friend of mine? Of course. 
 
 Laurent 
 Then, that explains it ! 
 
 Laplace 
 
 Excuses it, too ! 
 59
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard (to Deburau) 
 You know Janin ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Never met the man. 
 
 Robillard 
 Then what the devil ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No, no, no( 
 
 Let them go on thinking so. 
 Then perhaps they'll hate me less; 
 A little less. 
 Did you see their faces while he was reading it? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Jealousy! What's the use of heeding it? 
 Think what a notice from Janin means? 
 
 Deburau 
 Scenes, 
 Like this! 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, my friend, that's the price of success. 
 60
 
 ACT I 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Then I can't pay it. Does that sound absurd? 
 But I can't endure being looked at so. 
 It makes me too wretched, indeed it does. 
 All I want, you know, 
 Is to be met with a smile, a kind word, 
 And to feel I give the public pleasure. 
 That's how I measure 
 
 My success. And the rest I'm content to lose. 
 I don't hunger to be admired. 
 I could never be a hero. 
 I'm just a poor Pierrot, 
 Rather sad, and sometimes so tired. 
 I must make up my mind to be jolly at night, 
 As I make up my face, black and white. 
 
 Madame Rebard draws him aside. 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Gaspard. 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes? 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 
 I'm off, but tell me, will you 
 61
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 When they are out of hearing . . . 
 Come out to supper, just us two. 
 
 Deburau 
 Us two? 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 Don't you want to? 
 
 Deburau 
 I'd like it of all things, but let me explain . . . 
 
 He has begun to feel in his pockets. 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 
 I knew it ! Out comes his wife's picture again ! 
 Good-night. 
 
 Deburau 
 But what did you ? 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 
 Nothing, nothing at all. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Nor did I! 
 
 So don't be offended. And thanks for the roses. 
 
 62
 
 ACT I 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 What roses? 
 
 Deburau 
 Didn't you send them? 
 
 Madame Rebard 
 
 Not I. 
 Good-night. 
 
 Madame Rebard goes. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Now, why, 
 
 When I show them these do they all cock their 
 noses? 
 
 Bertrand (in an important voice) 
 Deburau ! 
 
 Deburau 
 Monsieur Bertrand! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 I feel 
 
 That I cannot allow this occasion to pass, 
 An occasion so well, let me call it such an 
 occasion, 
 
 63
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 When the critics and public, a critic of real 
 Distinction, a public to-night of the highest class 
 Have given you here such a splendid ovation. 
 Now comes my part 
 Though I seek no applause from the pit and the 
 
 gallery. 
 Deburau, 
 
 Don't say no ! 
 As a tribute to your art 
 I shall raise your salary. 
 
 There is general, if concealed, amazement. 
 
 Laplace 
 Did you hear what he said ? 
 
 The Barker 
 One full house has turned his head ! 
 
 Laurent 
 Are you joking? 
 
 Bertrand 
 Not at all. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 What next! 
 64
 
 ACT I 
 
 Laplace 
 
 Nothing, this is 
 
 about the limit! 
 
 First his friends puff him and then . . . why, 
 it's blackmail, damn it. 
 
 Deburau (to Robillard} 
 Now they'll really love me ! 
 
 Robillard 
 
 But, if he chooses to do it! 
 
 Deburau 
 Before them all ; the tactless brute ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Thirty francs is your present pay. 
 Not so bad, I must say ! 
 Well, no one shall call me unduly thrifty, 
 For the future it shall be thirty-two francs fifty. 
 
 Deburau 
 Thanks, my dear chief. 
 
 The Barker 
 
 The guv'nor's been drinking! 
 $ 65
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Bertrand 
 And to-morrow we'll have a poster printed. 
 
 The Barker 
 Twenty years since we had that done ! 
 
 Clara 
 Did you ever? 
 
 Laurent 
 What madness! 
 
 Justine 
 
 What fun! 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 It's a bit of an outlay, that's true, 
 But our dear little theatre mustn't be stinted. 
 
 Robillard (to Deburau) 
 Now what are you thinking? 
 
 Deburau 
 I'm marvelling at the power of the press! 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, don't complain. 
 It doesn't hurt you. 
 
 66
 
 ACT I 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, doesn't it? Thank you, wait and see! 
 If he puts up my salary when I make a success, 
 When I next make a failure he'll feel quite free 
 To cut it down again. 
 
 During these last lines Clara has gone 
 out with Bertrand while Laurent and 
 Laplace take Justine with them. When 
 only Deburau, Robillard, and the Barker 
 and the Money-Taker are left a Journalist 
 appears and asks the Barker a question. 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Monsieur Deburau, yes . . . that's him over 
 there. 
 
 Journalist 
 May I venture ? 
 
 The Barker 
 
 To speak to him. Quite all right. 
 He won't bite! 
 
 Journalist 
 Monsieur Deburau! 
 
 67
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 What can I do for you? 
 
 Journalist 
 
 I am a journalist. 
 
 My editor hopes you'll be pleased to assist 
 Me to place before the public an account 
 Of your early days ... of your efforts to mount 
 The ladder of fame that you're now at the top 
 
 of ... 
 Of your first appearance . . . ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 On the stage, 
 
 Or in the world? Well, well, 
 The two occasions weren't so far apart! 
 
 Journalist 
 
 Really? What stories you must have to tell! 
 Pardon me . . . 
 
 He makes a note. 
 
 "Trained in art 
 
 From his very cradle." That will look well 
 At the head of my page. 
 
 68
 
 ACT I 
 
 Please go on. I must squeeze out the last drop of 
 This great opportunity. You won't mind? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Not a bit, if you find 
 It amusing. I never did ! 
 Trained in art from my cradle, did you say? 
 Well, I hadn't a cradle! But, anyway, 
 If you bid 
 
 Me recall these things, here goes . . . 
 Though I've tried hard enough to forget them, 
 
 God knows ! 
 
 I was born in Rumania, at Constanza. 
 My father was a tight-rope dancer 
 Which had been his father's bent 
 And his grandfather's, so I've heard. 
 He ran a circus, owned a little tent. 
 My mother took the money at the door. 
 He was called the "Equilibrian Wonder." 
 
 Journalist 
 
 Very apt, upon my word ! 
 Brothers and sisters? 
 
 Deburau 
 I had four. 
 69
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Journalist 
 I'm making notes; please go ahead. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Five of us then, two girls and three boys 
 And father made six, 
 And mother seven, and the pony eight. 
 I must count him, for he did his tricks, 
 Though his best trick was to pull us from town to 
 
 town. 
 
 There are greater joys, 
 Believe me, than tramping early and late 
 German roads, Russian roads, Polish roads . . . ! 
 All roads, you know, are endless. 
 And we were poor. Our loads 
 In life weren't light. 
 
 A hungry day came after an empty tent at night. 
 Still, I think we never felt quite friendless. 
 But to return! My eldest brother . . . oh, he 
 
 looked down 
 
 On the rest of us. Well he might, 
 From the high rope he did his tricks on. 
 His flying leap was a great affair. 
 Ladies used to scream with fright. 
 It was fine to see him fix on 
 
 70
 
 ACT I 
 
 The spot that he meant to jump to. 
 
 Then, like a swallow, he'd sweep through the air 
 
 Round the trapeze and into the net. 
 
 Why, I could always feel my heart thump, too. 
 
 It means something, you know, to face death daily, 
 
 And to face it gaily, 
 
 With a smile and a bow. 
 
 So that's how I like to remember him now, 
 
 Crouched on his tight rope, supple and strong. 
 
 For later in life he went very wrong. 
 
 But you'll leave that out, won't you? It's wiped 
 
 off the slate, 
 Although he went crooked, he always jumped 
 
 straight. 
 
 My second brother was a tumbler. 
 That's a r61e that's rather humbler, 
 But an attractive little rascal. 
 Not a joint in his body he couldn't twist anyway. 
 He could dance on his hands, as I dance on my toes, 
 I believe if he'd tried he could have danced on his 
 
 nose. 
 Such a genius! Such a good-for-nothing! All 
 
 thrown away! 
 
 If he'd but worked instead of shirking his task all 
 The time, if he'd but given his talents their scope,
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 He could have made himself the finest human 
 serpent in Europe. 
 
 Journalist 
 Excellent, just what I wanted to know! 
 
 Deburau 
 My eldest sister was very pretty. 
 
 (To RoMlard.} 
 
 You remember her, don't you? She has come 
 Utterly to grief; but it seems as if some 
 Women were bound to. Such a pity ! 
 Will you please leave that out also? 
 The youngest was the best thing in the show. 
 She danced on the slack wire really divinely, 
 And has married quite well. 
 I was the fool of the family ! 
 Whatever went wrong it was always me. 
 Whoever kept balanced, I always fell. 
 Oh, and I have been beaten finely 
 For nearly and not quite breaking my neck. 
 I believe I never brought off a trick. 
 "Clumsy lout, clumsy lout, clumsy lout!" 
 And many's the dinner I've gone without 
 
 72
 
 ACT I 
 
 That practice on an empty tummy 
 
 (She'd bring me scraps afterwards, my poor 
 mummy) 
 
 Might make me more imperfect still. 
 
 I used to wear pink tights. 
 
 Well . . . once they'd been pink. 
 
 But time, that provides 
 
 All things, had given some wonderful shades 
 besides. 
 
 And they'd been so darned and put to rights 
 
 With bits of yellow and green and grey 
 
 That it was precious hard to say 
 
 Which were tights and which was mending. 
 
 But the meanest of us has his rights ; 
 
 And those were my very own pink tights. 
 
 I have them still somewhere I think. 
 
 We tramped, we tramped on those roads un- 
 ending 
 
 From town to town, 
 
 Laying us down 
 
 Under a hedge, or in some shed. 
 
 Cold, oh cold! 
 
 I wonder we didn't wake up dead 
 
 One of those fine mornings. Still, we were free. 
 
 The world was our tight rope. I sometimes see 
 
 73
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 In my dreams the whole world tented beneath the 
 
 fold 
 Of the skies. And that old rope slung so high in 
 
 air 
 That it stretches over sea and land. .And, one by 
 
 one, 
 
 Their figures black against a shining sun, 
 My father, my brothers, my sisters, all silently, 
 
 solemnly passing there. 
 That's all there is to tell you, every particle. 
 
 Journalist 
 My dear sir, it will make a first rate article. 
 
 Deburau 
 Good- night. 
 
 Journalist 
 Good-night. 
 And thank you. 
 
 Robillard 
 Good-night. 
 
 The Journalist, very well satisfied, departs. 
 
 Robillard 
 They have all gone. 
 
 74
 
 ACT I 
 
 Deburau 
 Well, come. 
 
 Robillard 
 Dear fellow, why do you look so glum? 
 
 Deburau 
 Do I? 
 
 Robillard 
 Smile. 
 
 Deburau 
 At what? 
 
 Robillard 
 After to-night ! 
 
 Deburau 
 Well, there's a smile for you. Is that all right? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Quite right. 
 
 Now a grateful one for your own good luck . . . 
 
 One for the future. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Ah, the many smiles 
 
 My past still owes me ... and the debt's not 
 paid . . . 
 
 75
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 For those first fifteen years 
 
 Of such childish trials. 
 
 But they burn deep when one salts the wounds 
 with tears. 
 
 For the next fifteen, climbing out of the ruck 
 
 Of neglect and misfortune . . . ! Ah, I mean 
 that my boy 
 
 Shall have his own childhood's joy and my child- 
 hood's joy 
 
 Both. Such a fine little fellow, solemn and staid! 
 
 He has my eyes and my voice 
 
 And already my way with his hand, 
 
 You know! 
 
 Swinging the left hand . . .so! 
 
 Robillard 
 You, running into a second edition. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Yes but I've planned 
 Many revisions of it for him. 
 It's not such an unselfish vision. 
 For by filling his happiness to the brim 
 The overflow will be mine, you see, 
 And he ... 
 
 76
 
 ACT I 
 
 A lady has come in and asked a question 
 of the Barker, who nods to her to wait and 
 then comes down to Deburau. 
 
 The Barker 
 Deburau! 
 
 Deburau 
 What? 
 
 The Barker 
 A lady. 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh! 
 
 The Barker 
 She's the right sort and she wants a word. 
 
 Deburau 
 Another! This really is too absurd. 
 
 Robillard 
 I'm off. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Confound you, no! 
 77
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 The Barker 
 She's a beauty ! 
 
 Deburau 
 What do I care? 
 
 Robillard 
 But she's waiting there. 
 
 Deburau 
 Let her wait! 
 
 The Barker 
 Take a look. 
 
 Deburaulooksand sees not exactly a lady 
 perhaps, but a girl, very young, grave but 
 smiling. She is pale, she has great deep eyes. 
 She is dressed wholly in black. On her neck, 
 in her ears, on her wrists there is the glitter 
 of diamonds. Deburau is struck dumb as 
 he looks at her. She is so charming. 
 
 Oh, but she's (he pauses) 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Yes, what's the word ? 
 78
 
 ACT I 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Entrancing. 
 Robillard 
 
 I should fetch out that picture from your pocket- 
 book. 
 
 And as a matter of fact, from sheer instinct 
 he has. He looks at it for a moment, and 
 then again at the lady. Then he holds out 
 his hand in a good-night to Robillard. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 What picture? Oh! You did say 
 You weren't going my way? 
 
 Robillard 
 I did say so. Good-night. 
 
 Robillard bows slightly to the unknown 
 lady and departs. Deburau goes towards 
 her. 
 
 Deburau 
 So good of you to ... 
 
 She never speaks, but still smiles at him 
 with that slow, entrancing smile. He offers 
 79
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 her his arm which she takes and they are 
 going when . . , 
 
 The Door-Keeper (holding out the flowers) 
 Your roses ! 
 
 Deburau (taking them, says to the lady) 
 
 Your roses. Am I right? 
 
 The lady, still smiling, shakes her head. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No? Well, I shan't have to be chancing 
 Any more guesses. But, who the deuce . . . ? 
 People will do these things, one can't prevent 'em. 
 Here, now, they might be of some use . . . 
 
 And with careless generosity he holds them 
 out to the little money-taker. 
 
 The Money-Taker 
 Tome? 
 
 Deburau 
 To you! 
 
 He presents them to her with a bow. Then 
 he and the lady depart. 
 80
 
 ACT I 
 
 The Money-Taker 
 Oh, Amed6e, he . . . ! 
 
 The Barker 
 Boo hoo ! 
 I told you he'd never guess you sent 'em. 
 
 81
 
 THE SECOND ACT
 
 THE SECOND ACT 
 
 The curtain rises on Marie Duplessis' 
 boudoir. She is at her piano, playing idly, 
 while Deburau talks as if he were in a dream. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 There it is, there it is, and it has always been so. 
 Why did I never see it before? 
 
 Marie 
 Darling, what are you muttering about? 
 
 Deburau 
 I'm telling myself how happy I am. 
 
 Marie 
 
 (with a little smile) 
 
 Telling yourself . . . how happy you are! 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes. 
 
 85
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 Well, that's good. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 A prisoner, you know, 
 Set free on a sudden can only shout 
 That he's free . . . and find nothing else to say. 
 So now I cram 
 
 All the emotions that possess me 
 Into "I'm happy. ' ' At last I've discovered 
 Why one fine day, 
 Long ago, I was hurled 
 Into this quaint world. 
 Nobody ever told me why. 
 I've been guessing and guessing ever since 
 And what is the use of life unless we 
 Know that one thing, unless Fate has uncovered 
 Our destiny. 
 But now that I know . . . why, how simple it 
 
 all is! 
 I was born 
 
 To love you, my dear. 
 
 Yes, from morning till evening and eve to morn 
 To fall deeper and deeper in love with you. 
 And to think that no one could tell me that ! 
 
 86
 
 ACT II 
 
 I shouldn't have been so hard to convince. 
 
 Think of the time I've so cautiously wasted 
 
 In follies ! 
 
 Looking for ... what ? . . . 
 
 When love was there ! 
 
 Caring for ... who ? . . . 
 
 When you were near! 
 
 And this has lasted 
 
 Half my life. 
 
 For twenty years I've been running away 
 
 From women. I was afraid . . . 
 
 Marie 
 
 Of your wife ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Not a bit ; nor of them ! But just, 
 I think, of being unhappy. I meant 
 Never to run a single risk. 
 Nothing riskier than that ! 
 Still I've been loved. I suppose one must 
 Call it love; 
 
 That steady solid domestic affection 
 Which moves like the clock's hands round the disc 
 Day by day. 
 
 87
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 It's like a mackintosh over your arm. 
 
 And I was the man who never went 
 
 Out without one, because he could prove 
 
 Though there wasn't a cloud in any direction 
 
 That some day it was bound to rain. 
 
 Or, . . . there I 'sat, 
 
 By my fireside, safe from harm, 
 
 Blind to life, deaf to life, dumb ; 
 
 Waiting for old age to come. 
 
 Why are things that are comforts when life goes 
 
 wrong 
 
 Such a dreadful bore while life goes right? 
 That's very naughty of Nature, isn't it? 
 Hypocrite ! 
 
 I wanted to hear the word passed among 
 My friends: "What a faithful fellow he is!" 
 Then came the sight 
 Of you. And now, if you please, 
 On me, love's pauper and life's coward, 
 All the wealth of the world has been showered. 
 Oh, my heart's my untaught heart's desire 
 All the wealth of the world? And yet 
 Day by day the pile grows higher. 
 And the more I spend, the richer I grow 
 The more I give, the more I get ! 
 
 88
 
 ACT II 
 
 What's to happen I don't know, 
 
 If this goes on? 
 
 For I can't grow any happier. 
 
 There's nothing now that doesn't delight me, 
 
 The commonest things appear 
 
 Beautiful. Food and wine and books 
 
 And furniture. A coster's barrow in the street. 
 
 They're so alive, they excite me! 
 
 It's wonderful to sit in the sun. 
 
 And when the sun has gone, 
 
 And the rain's begun, 
 
 How wonderful the rain looks. 
 
 Nothing I meet 
 
 Here on earth, or shall below, 
 
 If that's where I go; 
 
 Or in heaven above 
 
 If you lift me there, but I know how to love 
 
 Loving you my sweet. 
 
 He is sitting by her now. 
 
 May I come close to you? 
 Now, come close to me. 
 Now I'll come a little closer still. 
 I warn you I'm going to say 
 Things perhaps that I didn't ought to! 
 
 89
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 Then, perhaps, you had better keep further away. 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh, not that sort of things, the things you've been 
 
 taught to 
 
 Expect. And I'm not going to pose to you 
 Silly riddles about the past. 
 You're a woman, you're a mystery; 
 Well, stay so still. 
 
 For me, while I hold the present fast, 
 Or if I may only sit beside you, 
 Sit and look and look, 
 That's enough. 
 
 Things that are the very stuff 
 Of life . . . one should look them through and 
 
 through, 
 
 So quickly they pass. 
 Think what a fool if I never took 
 My chance to tear the veils that hide you . . . 
 That hide . . . you! 
 
 Others have praised you without ever knowing 
 What they were praising. 
 Such a beautiful face ! 
 Such a pretty hand ! 
 
 90
 
 ACT II 
 
 But before I praise, I must understand. 
 
 Look at me; I'm your glass. 
 
 Your face is like music. 
 
 Smile. That's the melody. 
 
 See it growing 
 
 Till each feature, from its place, 
 
 Catches the phrasing, 
 
 Completes the harmony. 
 
 Your neck! I've been told it's classic. 
 
 What do they mean by that, I wonder? 
 
 What / want to know 
 
 Is how you can turn it so . . . just so. 
 
 I could sit and ponder 
 
 For hours about that. I understand it 
 
 About as much as one understands 
 
 A miracle. 
 
 Now, give me your hands. 
 
 A hand, four fingers and a thumb ! 
 
 An impossible thing as Nature has planned it. 
 
 Lift your hands. Tell me to come. 
 
 Tell me to go. To wake ... to repose. 
 
 I can't do that. I talk prose 
 
 With my hands. Yours are lyrical! 
 
 She is talking thus to him with her hands 
 when the clock strikes five.
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 D'you know the time? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 I think it must be kissing time. 
 Did the clock strike that? 
 If not it struck wrong. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Sh ! Some one at the door. Come in. 
 The Maid enters. 
 
 Maid 
 Madame Rabouin. 
 
 Marie 
 
 I'll not keep her long. 
 The Maid goes out again. 
 
 Deburau 
 Who's that? 
 
 Marie 
 Old Mother Rabouin. You know her. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Not I! 
 92
 
 ACT II 
 
 Marie 
 
 Why, where have you been 
 Not to know Madame Rabouin: 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Why 
 Should I know Madame Rabouin ? 
 
 Marie 
 
 She goes about selling 
 All sorts of things you don't find in shop- windows. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 I see. And telling 
 Innocent people the way that the wind blows! 
 
 Marie 
 
 She sells silks and shawls and ribbons and lace, 
 Gloves for your hands and masks for your face, 
 Soaps and scents and powders and creams, 
 Sachets to put under your pillow at night 
 Made to bring you beautiful dreams. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 H'm . . .a pretty large pack she must carry, 
 And a pretty thick broomstick she rides. 
 
 93
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 Oh, yes . . . she tells fortunes besides. 
 
 Deburau 
 I thought as much. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Looks at your hand and into the cards. 
 Will you try ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No, I won't. Let her seek her quarry 
 Elsewhere for me. 
 
 Marie 
 She can tell you your past. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Thank you, I know it. 
 
 Marie 
 Your future. 
 
 Deburau 
 Not she! 
 
 I've shouldered my fate and I'm marching along 
 with it. 
 
 94
 
 ACT II 
 
 What ... let an old woman destroy with a 
 
 touch 
 
 All that my wonderful future guards? 
 I've a wonderful future ... if nothing goes 
 
 wrong with it. 
 
 Marie 
 Don't you want to know if it will? 
 
 Deburau 
 Not a bit. 
 
 Marie 
 Still, 
 
 You could ask her one question you've never asked 
 me. 
 
 Deburau 
 What can that be? 
 
 Marie 
 You could ask her my name. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's true. I've never asked you what your name 
 is. 
 
 95
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 
 Tact has it been ... or don't you care? 
 Some day, perhaps, you may need to know. 
 And then you mustn't sav the blame 
 Is mine. 
 
 Deburau 
 Would you like to tell me? It's all the same! 
 
 Marie 
 How can you talk about me else? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 I never do. D'you think I'd share 
 A thought of you with anyone? 
 
 Marie 
 Not in your own thoughts . . . ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Ah yes! 
 
 Marie 
 
 Well, there? 
 Deburau 
 
 There is a name I give you then ... a sort of 
 a name . . . 
 
 96
 
 ACT II 
 
 Marie 
 Tell me, tell me. Oh, what fun ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 A name is a true name if it tells, 
 Conjures up in its very sound 
 The very picture, complete in its frame 
 Of its owner. What do you think I found 
 For a name to think of you by ? 
 My lady with the Camellia. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Why? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Because I shall always see you 
 As first I saw you stand 
 With the flickering light about you 
 And that flower in 'your hand. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Yes, it is my flower, 
 I always have one near me. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 From that time that was your name for me. 
 Well, now, what's the other . . . everybody's 
 
 name for you ? 
 7 97
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 
 Marie Duplessis. 
 
 Deburau 
 Mine's the better of the two. 
 
 Marie 
 I agree 
 
 So please give it me 
 For my very own. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Will you keep it safely, for I've grown 
 Very fond of it? 
 
 Marie 
 
 For such a long time 
 
 I've wanted a name that was really my own. 
 One that couldn't be stolen or copied, 
 One that men couldn't make vulgar or stupid, 
 That couldn't be tagged to a rhyme. 
 So now, for ever and ever amen . . . 
 You say amen since you're down on your knee . . 
 The Lady with the Camellia, that shall be me! 
 What are you waiting down there for? 
 
 98
 
 ACT II 
 
 Deburau 
 
 This. 
 The end of a baptism's marked with a kiss. 
 
 Marie leans towards him to be kissed. 
 
 Marie 
 Godfather! 
 
 Deburau 
 Kissing her very gently. 
 
 Goddaughter! my dear! 
 
 Marie 
 Till this evening. 
 
 Deburau 
 Will you call for me then ? 
 
 Marie 
 At the theatre? Perhaps. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, my dear, oh, my dear! 
 
 What a new thing my life is since you entered in it, 
 Child that you are! Child that / am, I can't bear 
 To let you out of my sight for a minute. 
 
 99
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 I must look in at home, though 
 
 I haven't been there for a week or more. 
 
 Marie 
 You'll hear of it. 
 
 Deburau 
 What do I care? 
 
 Marie 
 So will the rest of the world ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 She won't dare! 
 
 But I must go back and see the boy. 
 He misses me so. 
 
 Marie 
 Someone else you adore ! 
 
 Deburau 
 So would you. Who could help it, the rascal? 
 
 He shows her a little picture in his pocket- 
 book. 
 
 I carry his picture now. 
 
 100
 
 ACT II 
 
 Marie 
 Very like you. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Is he, d'you think? 
 Listen now. 
 Suppose, one day. . . No, what's the use? 
 
 Marie 
 Go on. I'll "suppose" if you tell me how. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well, since you can't answer why not ask all 
 The same? And besides . . . who knows! 
 And besides that, it's wonderful just to ask you. 
 Will you marry me? 
 
 Marie 
 Marry you ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Don't refuse 
 On the spur of the moment. Let's stand on the 
 
 brink 
 
 And peep over. We can't jump in. 
 But if I asked you to be mine, 
 
 101
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 For ever ... for ever and a day, 
 
 If our road were straight instead of askew, 
 
 What would you say? 
 
 Marie 
 Well, I suppose . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Stop, stop ! If I let you begin 
 To speak you'll say "No." 
 Now, I can't ask you . . . remember I can't 
 So ... nod your head. 
 Then you'll not have said 
 "Yes." And I'll not have heard you say "No." 
 She nods her head. 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh, divine! 
 
 To have you and hold you all for my own ! 
 That's what I want, oh, that's what I want ! 
 
 Marie 
 
 Gently, gently! Pierrot has grown 
 Too like Pierrot. 
 We're not living in Fairyland, you know. 
 
 102
 
 ACT II 
 
 Deburau 
 
 But would you stay there 
 
 With me, if I could find out the way there? 
 
 Ask your old witch. Let her see 
 
 If she can't find a future worth having for me. 
 
 Marie 
 Oh, yes, yes! (she calls) Madame Rabouin! 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 In the next room. 
 
 Here! 
 
 Marie 
 Come in. 
 Madame Rabouin appears. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Good afternoon. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Madame ! 
 
 Marie 
 
 My friend here 
 
 Has heard me talk so much about you. 
 
 103
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 You tell fortunes? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 I do. A palm 
 I can read as you read books. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Will you turn over the leaves of mine? 
 And then no doubt you 
 Will find something . . . 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Sit down. 
 Both hands. Hold them so. 
 
 Deburau 
 I am quite ready and quite calm. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Ho! 
 
 Deburau 
 Ah? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Can you face the truth ? 
 104
 
 ACT II 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Better to face it, if Fortune looks 
 On you with a f rown* 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Thanks, I decline. 
 Good-evening. 
 
 Marie 
 Do listen. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No need. 
 
 Her very first "Ho" was enough for me. 
 I'll take my troubles as they come, 
 They'll come soon enough. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Won't you give heed 
 To a little advice as to how to avoid them? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Won't you please let me be? 
 
 105
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 There they are written large on your palm. 
 
 Deburau 
 Will you be quiet? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 It's a friendly warning I'm offering you. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Here's a friendly warning I'll offer you! 
 I'll be sorry to see you come to harm, 
 But if you can't hold your tongue, 
 I see no way but to give you a diet 
 Of handkerchief thrust in your mouth as a gag ! 
 D'you hear? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Quite plainly. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Suddenly losing his temper. 
 You hag ! 
 
 You bird of ill omen ! 
 D'you want your neck wrung? 
 No need to look at your claw 
 To tell what you are. 
 
 1 06
 
 ACT II 
 
 And you show men 
 
 Your future and I tell you it's not to your profit 
 
 I can trace 
 
 It like your past 
 
 Both written fast 
 
 In the lines of your face. 
 
 Oh, I promise you that I don't like the look of it. 
 
 Allow me to tell you you're an impostor. 
 
 Palmistry ! 
 
 All that you do is to dig from your history 
 
 Your own wicked history of vice and ill-luck 
 
 All the wrongs that have stuck 
 
 In your throat, all the ill-will that you foster. 
 
 Loose them on us, will you ? We are to pay ? 
 
 We're to be tripped up, dancing to your tune? 
 
 Doubled, redoubled they'll fall back upon you, 
 
 Till you're choked with your spite, 
 
 Till you die in a ditch and the devil has won you. 
 
 Andnow, my good madam, I've told you your fortune. 
 
 So, good-day. 
 
 Then to Marie. 
 My dear, till to-night. 
 
 Deburau bows to Madame Rabouin, 
 throws a kiss to Marie, and goes. 
 107
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 What a remarkably interesting man! 
 
 Marie 
 He's full of nerves . . . 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 But so full of charm! 
 I'm sorry he's coming to grief. 
 
 Marie 
 To grief? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Written indelibly in his palm. 
 Poor fellow ! Let's talk of pleasanter subjects. 
 I came today with a wonderful plan 
 To put before you. 
 
 Marie 
 Oh, what is it? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 First, 
 May I be very unpleasantly candid? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Of course. 
 
 1 08
 
 ACT II 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 You won't like it. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Never mind. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Not but what it'll be a relief 
 To me to speak my mind. 
 This is the worst 
 
 Of having a conscience that objects 
 To seeing one's friends make fatal errors. 
 You may want to treat me as that good man did, 
 But later you'll thank me for this visit. 
 
 Marie 
 Oh, please go on. I'm very curious. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 First, then, my dear, 
 This sort of thing leads to no good. 
 No matter how much in love one is 
 There are limits . . . 
 
 Marie 
 
 Oh, please look over that. 
 He lost his temper, and all the terrors 
 
 109
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 You conjured up only made him more furious. 
 He'd say he was sorry if he were still here. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 No doubt he would ! 
 No doubt he's a very charming fellow, 
 He must be to have wormed his way, 
 And to have such a hold upon your little heart. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Listen; I'd like to tell you this. 
 You think I'm madly in love with him. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 He thinks so. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Does it follow 
 
 That he's right? I have learnt 
 How to make men think so. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Do you mean to say 
 You're not in love with him? 
 
 Marie 
 
 No. That's over, 
 no
 
 ACT II 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Is it, indeed! 
 
 Marie 
 
 One night at the theatre I was alone . . . 
 All alone and a little lonely. 
 Ah, no, it didn't start 
 As a whim. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 You did love him. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Oh, for a little it burnt 
 Me up like a flame. I felt sure, quite sure 
 That I never should change. Then I seemed to 
 
 recover 
 After a little. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 So it's gone? 
 Marie 
 
 Quite gone. 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Then d'you think that you need 
 Have him here quite so much? For completing 
 the cure 
 
 in
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 It is rather a freak 
 
 To have him pay calls on you lasting a week. 
 
 Marie 
 
 I know, I know! If only 
 
 I knew what else to do, or what to say ! 
 
 But he's happy; so happy in thinking I love him 
 
 And I haven't the heart to send him away. 
 
 I know it's wrong, 
 
 I know it's foolish. But, you see, 
 
 Loving has mattered so little to me, 
 
 And to him it seems to mean so much. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Well, how long 
 Is this going on for? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Something may move him 
 To leave me of his own accord. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Good lord! 
 
 In about a hundred years it may. 
 
 My pretty, this sort of thing doesn't pay! 
 
 112
 
 ACT II 
 
 Marie 
 
 Pay? Oh, of course, I'm in the clutch 
 Of that beautiful word. 
 D'you know that I'm not twenty yet? 
 Girls of my age are still at school. 
 But the only lesson I've learnt quite pat 
 Is how to say to a fool 
 Of a man "I love you" without meaning a word 
 
 of it. 
 
 Sometimes I'm tired of it. 
 At least he wants it to be true, 
 He believes it. How absurd ! 
 He believes me. I should hate 
 Him not to believe me. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 I'm thinking of you, 
 My dear, and your future. Has he got any money ? 
 
 Marie 
 Of course not. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Well, whose estate 
 
 Does he think all this is provided from? 
 8 113
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 He doesn't think of it. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Innocent baby ! 
 
 Marie 
 He is, he is ! 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Well, that's as may be 
 If I'd have known that things had come 
 To such a funny 
 Pass as this, 
 
 I'd have thought it amiss 
 To tell my young friend he could try his luck. 
 
 Marie 
 Tell what . . . tell who? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 I don't think you know him. 
 
 Marie . 
 What have you told him to do? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 As a matter of fact, 
 
 It was he told me he was coming to call. 
 
 114
 
 ACT II 
 
 I said I'd find out if you'd see him; that's all. 
 
 You needn't, of course! 
 
 But tell your maid to show him 
 
 A little courtesy, to use a little tact. 
 
 For he's not the ordinary young spark 
 
 Wanting to know you for a lark, 
 
 Though he's young enough to take a snub. 
 
 And then he's been head over ears in love with you 
 
 For how long? a couple of months, not less. 
 
 He talks to me of it till he's hoarse. 
 
 If he could but meet you, he says, without 
 
 ceremony, 
 At any cost. 
 
 Not that he need count cost. That isn't the rub 
 With him. He's rolling in money. 
 Well, if you won't let him in, 
 So much the worse for him, poor fellow. 
 And you'll never know what you've lost. 
 And, if you must stick to this charity business, 
 I've no doubt that in time things will improve 
 
 with you. 
 
 Marie 
 
 I may have seen him somewhere. 
 Is he dark, or fair? 
 
 115
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Well, his hair isn't yellow 
 And it isn't black. 
 He's as handsome as sin, 
 And he's none of your imitation men, 
 Nothing to smack of the actor in him. 
 He lives in this world and not half in the moon ; 
 Lives very comfortably, what's more. 
 Well, again; 
 
 All he has he'll keep nothing back 
 Can be thrown at your feet. 
 Come now, don't sit there looking so prim . 
 Here's a man who's prepared to adore 
 You. Handsome, rich, very rich. 
 
 Marie 
 
 I know, I know! 
 But please don't keep on saying so. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 There's the bell! 
 What hour is it? 
 
 Marie 
 
 It's . . . ? 
 116
 
 ACT II 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 He'll be here soon. 
 A quarter past. That's him. I'm off 1 
 
 Marie 
 No, no ... please stay. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 I'll come to-morrow and you 
 
 shall tell 
 Me what happens. 
 
 Marie 
 Yes, do. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 One thing more. 
 Let's look at your palm. 
 That's queer! 
 People scoff; 
 But I'll swear 
 
 That little star see it ! was not there before. 
 Till to-morrow. Keep calm. 
 
 The Maid brings Marie a card which she 
 in turn shows to Madame Rabouin. 
 117
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 
 Is it he? 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 Yes. Look, you can see him from here. 
 
 Marie 
 Why, he is dark. Fancy your not knowing! 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 It only shows how old my eyes are growing. 
 
 Marie (to the Maid) 
 Ask him in. 
 
 (To Madame Rabouin) Thank you. 
 
 Madame Rabouin 
 
 Till to-morrow, my dear. 
 
 Madame Rabouin goes off with the maid. 
 After a moment the Young Man appears. 
 He and Marie stand looking at each other 
 for a few seconds. Then, like an arrow, as 
 shesinksinto a chair, he flings himself across 
 the stage and at her feet. 
 118
 
 ACT II 
 
 Young Man 
 
 Where shall I find the words in which to tell you 
 All that it means to be here at your feet ? 
 No worth or wealth of mine that can compel you 
 To squander on me from your store complete 
 Of beauty and of tenderness one glance! 
 But let your pity give me countenance. 
 
 Pity me for the little that I have 
 
 To bring you ; but your love can make it more. 
 
 My only freedom is to be your slave, 
 
 My only wisdom left, the leaf I tore 
 
 Out of love's book; its content magical 
 
 "I love you" and "I love you." That is all. 
 
 You see I've nothing new to say. 
 
 The thoughts are trite, the words are old. 
 
 Why should I wonder they leave you cold ? 
 
 Can I complain if you send me away? 
 
 Marie 
 
 But words of love sound always new and real 
 When the voice speaking them is real . . . and 
 
 new. 
 
 You need not climb poetic heights to steal 
 Eloquence, if the simple thing sounds true. 
 
 119
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 And, simpler still, when words of love won't 
 
 come 
 To better "Love is blind" with "Love is dumb." 
 
 If I know that you love me 
 
 What more need I know? 
 
 Why, your eyes show me more 
 
 Than your tongue ever can show. 
 
 How your eyes shine! 
 
 They are traps 
 
 That have caught mine. 
 
 I looked too close, 
 
 But I think, perhaps, 
 
 We often lose 
 
 Beauty in life because we shrink 
 
 From looking at things close enough. 
 
 We should look them through and through when 
 
 they are the very stuff 
 Of life . . . don't you think? 
 What's amiss? 
 
 Young Man 
 
 Nothing. But I can't speak. 
 Oh, the stuff of your very dress 
 Seems to have life in it ! 
 
 I2O
 
 ACT II 
 
 Marie 
 
 Touch with your hand 
 
 The tip of my ribbon ... no, not with your lips ! 
 That, I shall feel for sure. 
 Very well, lay it against your cheek. 
 Yes, a current indefinite 
 Of pain, of joy, somehow slips 
 Its way to my heart. 
 
 Young Man 
 Oh, my heart ! 
 
 You can't send me away now? I can't endure 
 To be sent away. 
 
 Marie 
 
 I understand, 
 Well . . . f or a little, stay. 
 
 At this moment Deburau appears. He 
 is leading his little son, Charles, by the 
 hand. He carries a little dog and a bird's 
 cage with a bird in it. At the sight of 
 them he drops the cage. Marie and the 
 young man turn around. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Please don't move. I was just going, 
 As you see. 
 
 121
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 I didn't mean to interrupt. 
 
 But such a ridiculous thing has just happened to 
 
 me. 
 
 That old Rabouin woman, who would be showing 
 Me danger ahead ... I ought to have stopt 
 To listen. Will you listen to these 
 Ridiculous things ... it won't take a minute? 
 When I got home my wife had been gone 
 Since yesterday evening, if you please. 
 Gone . . . yes, bolted, that's what she'd done. 
 Well, thank God, she'd left me the boy; 
 The place wasn't empty since he was in it. 
 But, lonely, wasn't it, sitting at home, 
 Charles, waiting for me to come? 
 She'd left me Fifi, too; 
 And the canary, think of that! 
 Well, but of course I shouted for joy. 
 Here was my dream coming true, 
 Here was the way to Fairyland clear. 
 What had Fate been at ! 
 And off I ran to my dear ... to my dear 
 With my boy and my bird and Fifi. Well, 
 Now comes the ridiculous part of the story 
 I have to tell. 
 When I found her what else should I find 
 
 122
 
 ACT II 
 
 But . . . ! Will you repeat this little history 
 
 To her? . . . that would be kind, 
 
 She was so beautiful, and she loved me. 
 
 But, when I found her, 
 
 Around her 
 
 Had sprung up the hedge of a strange happiness. 
 
 So I could do no less 
 
 Than turn away. 
 
 Oh, I turned at once and went away 
 
 With my boy and Fifi and my bird 
 
 I could do no less because I loved her so. 
 
 I want her to know, 
 
 And not to forget, 
 
 That I never said an angry word. 
 
 There's nothing, tell her, she need regret; 
 
 All's as well as can be. 
 
 And now all I care for 
 
 Is that whenever she thinks of me . . . 
 
 If ever, if ever she thinks of me . . . 
 
 It should be kindly. Therefore 
 
 She must remember 
 
 That the happiness she gave me, 
 
 Joys without number, 
 
 Riches of happiness, 
 
 Will suffice to save me 
 
 123
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 For a long time from distress. 
 
 But when I've spent it all and am quite poor again, 
 
 Perhaps I'll send to her, and then 
 
 Perhaps she'll come 
 
 Bringing a little alms of love. 
 
 And now, please, will you say I'm going home? 
 
 I shall be there if she needs me. 
 
 Forgive my disturbing you. Don't move. 
 
 Young Man 
 
 Who is this? What is it leads me 
 To think that I know him? 
 
 Marie 
 
 It's Gaspard Deburau. 
 Young Man 
 Oh, do introduce me. I've always admired him so. 
 
 Marie 
 Allow me. 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh, please! Well, if you say I shall . . . 
 
 Marie 
 
 Jean Gaspard Deburau . . . Monsieur Armand 
 Duval. 
 
 124
 
 THE THIRD ACT 
 
 125
 
 THE THIRD ACT 
 
 At Deburau's. It is almost an attic. 
 Deburau and Charles (who is now seven- 
 teen) are finishing their lunch. In a vase 
 are some camellias. 
 
 Charles 
 Try one of these. 
 
 Deburau 
 Nothing more, thank you. Help yourself. 
 
 Charles 
 Nothing at all is what you've eaten ! 
 
 Deburau 
 I've no appetite. 
 
 Charles 
 
 Try. Don't be beaten. 
 Have a pear? Half? 
 
 Please. 
 
 Deburau shakes his head. There is a 
 
 slight pause. 
 
 127
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Did you ask again downstairs, 
 Has anyone been for me? 
 
 Charles 
 
 No one. 
 
 Deburau 
 You're sure. 
 
 Charles 
 Quite sure. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No one! 
 
 Charles 
 
 Not a soul. 
 
 I ask every day, and twice a day. 
 Who is it that you sometimes say 
 You've been waiting for these seven years? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's an old joke, too old to explain. 
 There's the bell. 
 
 Charles 
 
 Yes, for the second floor. 
 I know the sound of every one 
 Would you like me to go and ask again? 
 
 128
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 You speak as if it were you spent your whole 
 Time in listening ! I'm sorry. Just go to the door. 
 For think, if she came 
 If she or he were to come and ring 
 And no one answered ! What a thing 
 To happen! And then if he went or she went 
 
 away . . . ! 
 So go all the same. 
 
 Charles goes, listens, and returns. 
 
 Charles 
 
 No one, I thought not. 
 Now, seriously, father, how are you to-day? 
 
 Deburau 
 Not well. 
 
 Charles 
 I know. 
 
 Deburau 
 My breathing is so so . . . 
 
 Charles 
 
 And your head's hot. 
 May I send for a doctor? 
 
 9 129
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 
 What can he say or do? 
 
 Charles 
 
 At least he might make you eat. 
 Would it hurt you to go out for a little? 
 Two months since you set your foot in the street. 
 
 Deburau 
 I'm not to be cured by doctor or hospital. 
 
 Charles 
 Father, don't say so ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Why not, if it's true? 
 
 Charles 
 
 You should never have given up acting. 
 It all dates from then. 
 
 Deburau 
 What ! go back again . . . ? 
 
 Charles 
 
 They'd ring bells if you did. 
 
 130
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 And a precious cracked ring 
 It would be for me ! 
 
 Charles 
 Try it and see. 
 
 Deburau 
 . . . Pull faces 
 To amuse a set of loons, 
 Who forget you as soon as your place is 
 Filled up by duller and damn'der buffoons! 
 
 Charles 
 
 Give them their due! 
 When have you found them faithless to you? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, to sit and think of past successes 
 Is like what's it like? picking over a rag-bag 
 Full of the faded gaudy dresses 
 One used to wear. 
 Every old hag 
 
 Was beautiful once she'll swear. 
 I'm humbler than most. 
 I only boast 
 To have been once a rather popular clown.
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Charles 
 What's worth having but success? 
 
 Deburau 
 My boy, prick a vein in your arm and write this 
 
 down 
 
 In your blood. Love's worth having. Unless 
 You can mix love with your drink of life 
 You'll go parched, no matter how heady 
 And glorious your wine of success and of fame is. 
 When your love comes be ready, 
 Seize her and hold her, love her madly. 
 It hurts to love madly. But, though the game is 
 Cruel, you must play it out to the finish. 
 It's a worse hurt to sit and sadly 
 Count the lost moments; the strife 
 Unstriven; the swinish 
 Wallowing lethargy in the sty 
 Of failure. Oh, yes, I exaggerate. 
 But, at any rate, 
 Have a try to live. Have a try! 
 But you don't need advice from me. 
 
 Charles 
 Why do you say that ? 
 
 132
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 Who is it you run off to see . . . ? 
 
 Charles 
 I? 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes, you! 
 
 Every day as it gets near two 
 I see you with your eye on the clock. 
 Silly boy, what are you blushing at ? 
 Where do you go to ? 
 
 Charles 
 The theatre. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 What theatre? 
 
 Charles 
 
 The Follies. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, is that where you meet her? Who is she? 
 Would you rather not say? 
 
 Charles 
 
 There's no one at all. I go to see the play. 
 
 133
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 To see the play! Do you like seeing plays? 
 
 Charles (fervently) 
 Oh, yes! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 This is a bit of a shock. 
 
 I suppose you're not thinking, one of these days, 
 Of becoming . . . 
 
 Charles 
 An actor? I want to be. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Do you, indeed! Well, you might have told me 
 Before. Am I the sort of man who bullies 
 His children ? 
 
 Charles 
 
 Let me work hard for a year. 
 Give me a chance; I'll work so hard. 
 For two years? Then, perhaps, I could show 
 you . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Do you really think one can learn to act ? 
 
 134
 
 ACT III 
 
 Charles 
 Well, one can try. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, there's nothing to stop you trying, 
 There's nothing to stop a pig from flying, 
 If it has wings. My boy, this is sheer 
 Folly! What sort of parts do you regard 
 As likely to ... well ? 
 
 Charles 
 Parts you used to play. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Parts that I . . . ! 
 Really, you flatter me; really, I owe you 
 Thanks for such an effort at tact. 
 
 Charles 
 
 Oh, of course, not ever, in the way 
 You used to play them. 
 Though if you'd show me a thing or two . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 A trick or two ! 
 
 Of course that is all my acting is ... or 
 was! . . . 
 
 135
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 A few tricks I stole from . . . never mind who ! 
 Now, in my turn, I'm to betray them 
 To you! 
 
 Charles 
 I don't think so at all. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Because 
 
 You've seen me do it easily, 
 How very easy it must be! 
 Why should you think you can act at all? 
 
 Charles 
 I'm still young . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Very! 
 That's at least a fault that time will cure. 
 
 Charles 
 Doesn't that give me rather a pull? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Over me? 
 
 Charles 
 I'm sorry 
 
 You should think I meant that. 
 
 136
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Don't be so sure 
 I'm done with. 
 
 Charles 
 Of course you're not. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 There's enough left in me perhaps to blot 
 For a little the sun of your rising fame. 
 
 Charles 
 
 Papa, it's a shame 
 To make jokes like that. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Now, listen to me. 
 
 You're not quite such a fool as you're trying to be. 
 You think you can act. Well, take my advice 
 For remember at this game no one fails twice 
 Try something easy. You can learn to spout 
 And as long as you've words to help you out . . . 
 
 Charles 
 No. 
 
 I think I'll do better, like you, in dumb show. 
 
 137
 
 DEBURAU 
 Deburau 
 
 As Pierrot? 
 
 Charles 
 
 Why not, why ever not, I'd like to know? 
 I can move, I can dance, 
 I'm as light on my feet as a fly, 
 I can try, I can but try. 
 
 Deburau 
 Very well, try. 
 
 No doubt we can get you a chance 
 In some little place in the provinces. 
 
 Charles 
 
 No. I think not. When one commences 
 That way one may finish that way, too. 
 Better start in Paris. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No doubt that is the thing to do. 
 What name will you play under? 
 
 Charles 
 
 What name ! 
 138
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 There are lots to be found. 
 The chief thing about which to take care is 
 That it looks well in print. 
 It should also have an attractive sound. 
 And be easy to remember. It should give one a 
 
 hint 
 Of something familiar. 
 
 Charles 
 
 Why not my own name? 
 Deburau 
 What may that be? 
 
 Charles 
 Deburau. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That happens to be mine, you see. 
 Your name is Charles. 
 
 Charles 
 Charles Deburau. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh no . . . oh no ! 
 
 Make a fool of yourself, my lad, if you must . . . 
 Of yourself, if you please. 
 
 139
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 But you don't go dragging my name in the dust. 
 
 My name! 
 
 Why, what is that, I should like to know, 
 
 But another self, a second Deburau, 
 
 That I've built up, piece by piece, 
 
 Sweated and suffered to create it 
 
 And now you want to appropriate it. 
 
 Do the same 
 
 For yourself, my lad, 
 
 If you're such a genius. 
 
 Not a bad 
 
 Idea; in fact, most ingenious, 
 
 To slip into my shoes. 
 
 But it happens I don't choose 
 
 That you should. And don't you try it. 
 
 My name! The wealth of the world shan't buy it. 
 
 I'm down, out, and done for, you think. 
 
 While you're on the brink 
 
 Of success. 
 
 None the less, 
 
 While I've a breath in my body, I swear 
 
 You don't play my parts in my name, so there ! 
 
 Charles 
 
 Then I must wait. 
 
 140
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 Till I can't prevent it? 
 
 Charles 
 I didn't mean that. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Never mind if you meant it 
 Or not. You mayn't have long to wait. 
 
 Charles 
 Papa, I never meant to say it. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's why it sounded so well. 
 The very best effects are sometimes made that way. 
 You're quite cut out for parts that need no feeling. 
 I much regret the slight delay. 
 But be patient. There's no telling. 
 By to-morrow or next day 
 You may be quite free to go your way 
 And try what sort of trade the actor's is. Well, my 
 
 dear boy, 
 I wish you joy ! 
 
 Charles 
 
 It has served you well enough. 
 
 141
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, yes! Although I've had some rather tough 
 Times you've not known about. Do you remem- 
 ber . . . 
 
 (Oh, this is nothing) . . . but one damp De- 
 cember 
 
 I had to bring my manager before a magistrate 
 For giving me a dressing-room in such a filthy 
 
 state 
 
 That I nearly died of it ? But I won my case 
 By showing there in Court, before his face, 
 A dozen mushrooms that I'd picked the night 
 
 before 
 
 From the dressing-room floor. 
 A hard life! 
 And a shrewish wife, 
 The art of acting is to wed. 
 Unless you can really take delight 
 In the neglect and jealousy and spite, 
 Which are its daily bread. 
 
 / 
 Charles 
 
 You haven't always felt like this about it. 
 Oh! the first nights I recollect 
 When I sat up till you came home. 
 
 142
 
 ACT III 
 
 If the play had gone well you'd always affect 
 A little indifference, you'd smile and say, 
 "I didn't do badly; but I haven't a doubt it 
 Will be a failure. That's always the way. 
 Wait till the papers come!" 
 I suppose if you hadn't observed that rite 
 You wouldn't have slept a wink that night. 
 Then in the morning when the papers came 
 And we looked through them till we found your 
 
 name 
 
 Always a shout when we found your name ! 
 Then out to lunch you'd go 
 Looking so smart. 
 
 "When I've made a success," you'd say, 
 "I can count on a week's invitations to lunch." 
 I'd often try 
 To pass the caf6 by 
 And peep on the sly 
 
 To where they all stood around you in a bunch, 
 Praising you . . . praising your art. 
 You were happy then, I know. 
 You tell me now of neglect and spite. 
 Think of that night 
 When the whole audience stood and shouted your 
 
 name
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Till you came. 
 
 And when you came they brought the house down. 
 Did you feel then you were only a clown ? 
 And you'd ask my advice . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Your advice! 
 
 Charles 
 
 Oh, indeed, but you would! 
 Whenever I'd been to the theatre you'd ask, 
 ' ' How did I play to-night ? ' ' 
 I'd say for I thought it was wonderful quite 
 That you probably were 
 The greatest actor in the world. 
 You'd smile. But then with a spice 
 Of something else in your voice you'd say, 
 "Why probably?" Then I'd be set the task, 
 To pick out the tiniest fault if I could. 
 So, just to please you as I thought, 
 "At your first exit," once I said, "as you turned 
 Wasn't the gesture rather queer?" 
 Oh, but you turned on me! I curled 
 With shame. Queer! Would I kindly explain 
 What I meant by "queer"? I noted that down 
 
 144
 
 ACT III 
 
 In my child's mind ; not to be caught 
 
 Ever again. 
 
 Oh, papa! 
 
 If anyone then had called you a clown : 
 
 A little pause. Deburau makes no move- 
 ment; then Charles, thinking he may have 
 fallen asleep, tiptoes towards the door. 
 
 Deburau 
 No, I'm not asleep. Stay where you are. 
 
 Charles 
 But . . 
 
 Deburau 
 No, this afternoon you can stay with me. 
 
 Charles 
 But if anyone came I could leave the key . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 No one will come. 
 
 A silence. 
 
 Yes, there's the sound 
 
 Of our bell-wire scraping on the wall.
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 There's the bell! Run into the hall 
 Quickly. I daren't look round. 
 
 Charles has gone out and after a moment 
 returns with Robillard. 
 
 Charles 
 It's Monsieur Robillard. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, old man ? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Good to see you. Sit down. Charles, bring that 
 chair. 
 
 Robillard 
 Better? 
 
 Deburau 
 Not much. 
 
 Robillard 
 Cheer up. 
 
 Deburau 
 You seem to think that I can. 
 
 Charles 
 
 You want to talk; I'll go. 
 
 146
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 You're all right where you were. 
 Charles sits apart very impatient. 
 
 Robillard 
 I've news. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 News? 
 
 Robillard 
 Most amazing. 
 
 Deburau 
 Of? . . . ? 
 
 Robillard 
 Yes. 
 
 Deburau 
 But ... of whom? 
 
 Robillard 
 Well, you wanted to know what had become . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Of my wife! I suppose I did. 
 
 Robillard 
 I've seen her.
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 Seen her? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Not three hours back. 
 I thought I never should get on her track, 
 But there I was, this morning, gazing 
 At nothing particular when she 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Hush! 
 
 Charles has left the window to find a 
 book and is near them. 
 
 Deburau 
 How are things at the Follies? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, they all bid 
 
 Me bring you their love. Not as one could wish. 
 Week-days are bad; Sundays are better. 
 
 Charles has by this gone back to the 
 window. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Go on. I suppose it's as we feared; 
 The poor wretch has come to utter grief? 
 
 148
 
 ACT III 
 
 Robillard 
 No, she's all right. 
 
 Deburau 
 All right? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Yes, she appeared 
 
 A little older, perhaps, and plumper . . . 
 Well, she was always plump. 
 But more contented. That was the chief 
 Thing that one noticed. I hadn't to pump her. 
 She wanted to tell me and so I let her. 
 
 Deburau 
 Well? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, there she is with a man 
 Who keeps a big jeweller's shop. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 A shop ! 
 
 Robillard 
 
 I gather he's very well-to-do. 
 She was charmingly dressed, not at all the frump 
 
 149
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 She used to be. It seems he's a good sort of 
 fellow, too. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 A tradesman ! Rather a drop 
 From what she was used to with me. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 She's all but married to him, you see, 
 Calls herself Madame . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 
 She's taken his name, 
 And given up mine? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, you mustn't blame 
 Her for that. 
 
 Deburau 
 But what taste! 
 Here's a nice touch of irony. 
 I honour that creature with my name, 
 She flings it back at me at the very same 
 Moment her son is up to the felony 
 Of trying to steal it. Oh, but why waste 
 
 150
 
 ACT III 
 
 Time on a woman who, without a pang, 
 Lets her husband go hang ! 
 
 Robillard 
 
 But had you a flood of tears ready to fall 
 For her loss? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's not the same thing at all 
 I never told her with my eyes full of tears 
 And a sob in my voice and my arms round her 
 
 neck 
 
 That I'd die if she left me. But for ten solid years 
 She said that to me about once a week. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 I'm sure she meant it. 
 
 And she suffered then, 
 
 When the smash came. 
 
 But she couldn't prevent it, 
 
 So she picked up the pieces and started again. 
 
 Women do. 
 
 Deburau 
 Do men ? 
 
 151
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard 
 Yes, why shouldn't they do the same? 
 
 Deburau 
 Because . . . 
 
 Listen to me; they are different laws 
 A man loves under. I'm sure that she meant it. 
 The mistake was I thought that she meant it 
 
 for me. 
 
 But she meant it just for her husband, you see, 
 Whoever at the moment he happened to be. 
 Remember this, when I'm out of the way . . . 
 It's the wisest thing I shall ever say . . . 
 To a woman, you're something, not somebody ever; 
 When she loves you she kisses not you, but her 
 
 lover. 
 
 She's true to her husband ; she's not true to you. 
 She'd be true to a dozen, a dozen times true! 
 Oh, the trouble she'd take 
 To buy or make 
 
 The little dish I liked for supper! 
 "Darling, it needs a touch more pepper, 
 Or a little mustard to savour it." 
 And it was the dish she liked the best. 
 Now she cooks supper for him. 
 
 152
 
 ACT III 
 
 A different dish, but she'll still protest 
 
 It's her favourite. 
 
 Isn't it grim? 
 
 If he's ill what a nurse she'll be! 
 
 What a nurse she once made me! 
 
 "Poor Gaspard," as she'd slip the pillow 
 
 Under my head. 
 
 Now she hovers round his bed 
 
 With "Poor " whatever she calls the fellow. 
 
 Does she ever think of the boy, I wonder? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 I'm sure she does, but under 
 Rather a different aspect, 
 I expect, 
 Because . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Well, why that pause? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 She has two children of her own now, so to speak. 
 Fine little chaps, I saw them. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Ah ! a streak 
 
 Of real humour! That saves my life. 
 
 153
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 I no longer feel that I've lost my wife 
 
 But rather that I'd the honour to be 
 
 For a little time 
 
 The partner of a charming lady 
 
 Who now, in the prime, 
 
 Of a buxom maturity 
 
 Is a most delectable, 
 
 Eminently respectable 
 
 Matrimonial prop 
 
 Of a gentleman keeping a jeweller's shop. 
 
 His for eternity ! 
 
 Life seems tragic sometimes, no doubt, 
 
 But it turns to comedy if you sit it out. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, if that's helped to lessen 
 Your trouble . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, yes, it gives me a lesson. 
 She has forgotten, has she? Well, I 
 Have something more to forget. Shall I try? 
 I'm ill; but not so very ill. 
 I wouldn't mind being out and about 
 If I could only stop myself looking about 
 Not for her, but you know for her. 
 
 154
 
 ACT III 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Come to the theatre: not to play, 
 Just for a word with us all. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's the way 
 I should miss her if she came. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 What nonsense this is! You'll stay and fret 
 Here in this wretched garret until 
 You die of old age. And all the same 
 Never a step to you will she stir. 
 Put on your hat now and come with me. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Not now, not now. Look, it's nearly three, 
 And I've always been sure that if she came 
 She'd come at three . . . no, at a quarter to. 
 
 Robillard 
 These fancies are very bad for you. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 There's the bell! Who can that be? 
 
 i55
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard 
 Come, come, my dear fellow, don't get in a state. 
 
 Deburau 
 I know. It isn't she. Why, what's amiss? 
 
 Robillard 
 Well, as a matter of fact it is. 
 
 For Marie Duplessis has entered 
 
 Deburau 
 
 You see! She's only five minutes late. 
 He tries to rise. 
 
 Marie 
 No, no, don't move. 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh, my dear! 
 Then to Robillard. 
 Take the boy with you. 
 
 Marie 
 Your boy ? 
 
 Deburau 
 You remember. 
 
 156
 
 ACT III 
 
 Marie 
 How he has grown. 
 
 Deburau 
 There has been time. 
 
 Marie 
 
 But, what a joy 
 To have such a son ! 
 
 Robillard (to Deburau) 
 He doesn't want to go. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Why not? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Says you told him to stay. 
 But if he sees me run away 
 He'll take in the situation. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 I fear 
 
 He has mastered it at a glance. 
 Never mind, 
 
 Be off. Leave him behind. 
 
 157
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard 
 Well, you'll look us up in a day or so. 
 
 (To Marie.) 
 Madame. 
 
 Marie 
 Monsieur. 
 
 Robillard 
 Good-bye, Charles. In a trance? 
 
 Charles 
 I beg your pardon. Good-bye. 
 
 Robillard 
 Good-bye. 
 
 Robillard goes. Charles comes to sit 
 near his father . . . and Marie. 
 
 Marie 
 How old is he? 
 
 Deburau 
 Sixteen. 
 
 Charles 
 
 Seventeen, papa. 
 158
 
 ACT III 
 
 Marie 
 So much ! But you grow younger. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Yes, in him. 
 
 Marie 
 He is very charming. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Be off, my lad, 
 
 Such a great fellow as you are ! 
 It's very bad 
 
 To be lounging about the house all day. 
 Trot along. 
 
 Charles 
 Where to? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well, I must say! 
 
 These ducklings take too much teaching to swim! 
 Be off somewhere. 
 Run to the Follies and amuse yourself there. 
 
 159
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Charles 
 
 To the theatre! Oh, yes ... if I may. 
 Thank you! Madame, good-day. 
 He goes. 
 
 Marie 
 Charming, quite charming ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 I see that he is ! 
 Oh, at last you are here. 
 I knew you'd come. 
 Such bliss ! 
 
 But a poor place to welcome you to, my dear, 
 Is my home. 
 
 Marie 
 I'm not looking at that. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 But you can. 
 It's not so bad. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Camellias! 
 
 160
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Why, yes! 
 But you've none in your dress. 
 
 Marie 
 
 They seem to die now if I wear them. 
 But I always have them about me. 
 Give me those if you can spare them 
 For a talisman. 
 
 Deburau 
 Are you in danger, then? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Why should I be? 
 But . . . you can see a difference in me? 
 
 Deburau 
 Not any, to me. 
 And there never can be. 
 
 Marie 
 Oh, la, la! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Do you doubt me? 
 7 have changed though. 
 11 161
 
 DEBURAU 
 Marie 
 
 My poor friend, 
 Lying so ill. 
 
 Deburau 
 I'm not ill. 
 
 Marie 
 But they told me so. 
 
 Deburau 
 Who told you ? 
 
 Marie 
 I'd a letter from 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Robillard? 
 Marie 
 
 Yes, on Sunday. 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh! 
 
 Marie 
 What's the matter? 
 
 162
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 It took that to bring you. 
 Never a thought of me when I was well. 
 
 Marie 
 Yes, I have thought of you very often. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Loving me still? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Still loving you . . . 
 
 As much as ever. I meant to come one day. 
 A dozen times I've started 
 And then not been able. 
 
 Deburau 
 Curse them ! 
 
 Marie 
 Who? 
 
 Deburau 
 How can I tell ? 
 
 Marie 
 Why curse them? 
 
 163
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Because since we parted 
 A dozen times they've made you miserable. 
 Then you started to come to me. 
 Isn't that so? 
 
 Marie 
 1 Yes. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 You should have come. 
 Are you unhappy? 
 
 Marie 
 
 I have some 
 Unhappy times. 
 
 Deburau 
 Many! 
 
 Marie 
 Yes, many. 
 
 But since I love him I prefer to be 
 Unhappy. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 At last, at last, you understand! 
 Now we can sing love's litany 
 Together, hand in hand. 
 
 164
 
 ACT III 
 
 Marie 
 
 I can't explain why I love him so. 
 It's that he's . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Oh, I know, I know. 
 Who should know if I don't know! 
 It's that he's a part of you, 
 He has the heart of you, 
 He is the heart of you. 
 Nothing's true if that's not true. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Why did you sing the litany to me? 
 I think that taught me to believe in it. 
 She is breaking down. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 There, there, now! Quiet a minute. 
 Wait; it will all come right, you'll see. 
 
 Marie 
 You were the first to tell me ... 
 
 Deburau 
 
 But now you're wiser than I, 
 And you can take up the tale. 
 
 165
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Now, now, you're not going to cry. 
 
 That won't avail, 
 
 Will it? Now, what's the trouble? Let's have it 
 
 laid bare. 
 You must give me my share. 
 
 Marie 
 
 They want him to leave me for good and all. 
 His father wants him to marry; 
 He came this morning to tell me so. 
 
 Deburau 
 His father came ! 
 
 Marie 
 
 The maid said, "Monsieur Duval's in the hall." 
 I knew she couldn't mistake the name. 
 Some joke of Armand's, I thought. 
 In walked his father. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 How dare he! 
 
 Marie 
 
 Would I please let his son go? 
 He put it a little crudely. 
 
 1 66
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 The man should be taught 
 Manners. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Yes, it's behaving rather rudely 
 To keep your hat on your head. 
 And the things he said! 
 "Just to oblige me," he said. Did you ever 
 Hear anything like it? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Mad of him. 
 
 Marie 
 I told him I would, just to get rid of him. 
 
 Deburau 
 Will you? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Never, never, never. 
 Oh, look at the time! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 You must go ? 
 167
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Marie 
 
 Yes; I'm sorry. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Won't you stay a minute longer, 
 Even to talk of him? 
 
 Marie 
 
 I must hurry. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 There was no attraction stronger 
 I could think of. 
 
 Marie 
 
 But, listen to me. 
 
 I'm going to call from your window; 
 There's someone I want you to see. 
 
 Deburau 
 Who? 
 
 Marie 
 My doctor; he's waiting below. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 A doctor! What nonsense ! 
 
 168
 
 ACT III 
 
 Marie 
 I've not told him your name. 
 
 Deburau 
 Why ever not? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Well, he sees such a lot 
 Of people, and chatters. . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 I understand. 
 
 Marie 
 
 Not that in one sense 
 
 It matters. 
 
 But, all the same, 
 
 My bringing him here . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 I quite understand. 
 
 Marie 
 
 He's a very good doctor. 
 He has been mine 
 For nearly a year. 
 
 169
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 Are you ill? 
 
 Marie 
 Not a sign, 
 
 Is there, of anything wrong? 
 No, nothing to call 
 Illness. I cough a little sometimes . . . that's 
 
 all. 
 May I beckon him up? He shan't stay long. 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes, yes. 
 
 Marie 
 
 That's right. 
 
 She calls from the window and beckons. 
 St! Doctor! (then to Deburau 
 again) That's good. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 If it pleases you. 
 ) 
 
 Marie 
 
 He'll work a cure. He promised he would. 
 
 170
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Do his medicines touch 
 The heartache that seizes you, 
 The thoughts that rend 
 Your memory? 
 
 Marie 
 
 Ah, my friend, 
 In this world one mustn't expect too much. 
 
 Deburau 
 And I've waited for this! 
 
 Marie 
 
 For what? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 For you to come . . . bringing your doctor! 
 A doctor . . . when you are here ! 
 A doctor . . . when you are gone! 
 And you expect a 
 Wonderful cure, do you not? 
 My dear, 
 
 In my case the one thing clear is 
 That there's more salvation 
 In a word from you, 
 
 171
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 A look from you, 
 
 Alone, 
 
 Than a consultation 
 
 With every doctor in Paris. 
 
 Marie 
 There he is. I'll open the door. 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes, open it ... and go. 
 
 Marie 
 Not for a minute . . . ! 
 
 Deburau 
 Oh, please go, 
 
 Or you might keep him waiting 
 And that you'd never forgive me. 
 
 Marie 
 Not five minutes more? 
 
 Deburau 
 No; let in your doctor, and leave me. 
 
 Marie 
 
 You tell me you've wanted me so 
 And now you tell me to go ! 
 
 172
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 Hating 
 
 To tell you? No. 
 Give me your hand. 
 Listen, and try to understand. 
 Ah, smile at me. When I've let your hand go 
 I shall hold your smile fast! 
 Now, remember when this is past 
 That the less we have the less we have lost. 
 With life at its best I wanted you most. 
 Life's over, 
 I've loved you. Now, go to your lover. 
 
 Marie opens the door to the Doctor, says 
 a few words to him, then does smile at 
 Deburau and then . . . goes. 
 
 Deburau 
 Come in, do come in, and sit down. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Well? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 What a lot of trouble to put you to 
 For a poor wretch who's not worth it. 
 
 173
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Never mind mine; what's your trouble? 
 Come, let's unearth it. 
 Are you in pain? 
 Just loosen your dressing-gown. 
 Thank you. 
 
 He starts to sound him. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Not a bit! I wish I were, 
 It'd be something to think about. 
 
 Doctor 
 Breathe deeply. Thank you. Again. 
 
 Deburau 
 Not pneumonia, single or double? 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Neither. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well, I feel badly found out 
 I'm a fraud. 
 
 174
 
 ACT III 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Not at all, my dear sir. 
 But, to make a quite unscientific guess 
 At the cause of your distress 
 (Which sometimes serves), 
 I think you're suffering from what's called nerves. 
 
 Deburau 
 That may be so. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Well, now, you know, 
 You can shake yourself free 
 If you choose. Get up, go about, 
 Order yourself a good dinner to-night. 
 
 Deburau 
 Will you provide the appetite? 
 
 Doctor 
 Seriously, 
 
 If you don't make some endeavour 
 To battle with this, my friend, 
 How will it end ? 
 Perhaps with a dip in the river.
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 That's a prescription you might write out. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 There are better ones, however. 
 No, not physic. 
 Now, tell me, are you fond of music? 
 
 Deburau 
 Drowning is quicker and not so noisy. 
 
 Doctor 
 Art? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 By art I suppose you mean 
 Covering canvas up with paint? 
 Well, I much prefer it clean. 
 
 Doctor 
 Nature? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Nature makes me feel so small. 
 Poor man, however tall 
 He tries to grow, Nature outtops him. 
 Whatever noise he 
 
 176 
 
 \
 
 ACT III 
 
 Tries to make in the world, she's noisier, 
 
 She has no restraint. 
 
 I venture to think that the Creator 
 
 Ought by this time to have civilized Nature. 
 
 Doctor 
 Do you read much? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Think of the time a man employs here 
 Reading books ! And when death stops him 
 What has he read? 
 Better to wait until he's dead. 
 I have my doubts if Heaven looks 
 Like the pictures, full of seraphs and cherubs, 
 If the lion purrs when by chance he rubs 
 Against the lamb, though it's very pretty. 
 But I've always been sure the Eternal City 
 Would be full of books. 
 Think of the men of light and leading 
 Who've gone there ! So I propose to pass eternity 
 In reading. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 But, for mere mortality, 
 What about the theatre now 
 
 177
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 What a suggestion! 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Do you question 
 The prescription? 
 I often take a dose myself. 
 
 Deburau 
 No, in reality 
 I was only wondering how 
 A dose would taste to me, nasty or nice. 
 Will any description 
 Of theatre suffice? 
 Any bottle from the shelf? 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Any theatre may. 
 But I always say 
 
 That the cure does not depend on the play- 
 Although, of course, the play's a factor 
 I usually prescribe some particular actor. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 What sort of an actor? 
 
 178
 
 ACT III 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Not one of the sort 
 That the manager calls like a cab from the 
 
 rank, 
 
 Conscientiously earning his living 
 By painting his face and speaking his part. 
 But there are one or two we should humbly 
 
 thank, 
 
 We physicians, though they beat us. 
 While we are striving 
 With science, which in the last resort 
 Is like a candle without a light, 
 There comes this actor with his art 
 His what d'ye call it "divine afflatus." 
 A bit of a blackguard he may be, 
 Ignorant, idle, devil-may-care, 
 Poverty-stricken. But since somewhere 
 There lurks in him that touch of the divine 
 Which he spends, spills as a drunkard spills 
 
 wine 
 
 But that's Nature's way, you see, 
 Nature's own generosity so he, 
 However worthless he may seem to be, 
 Because he offers you his heart's blood, 
 Can do you good. 
 
 179
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 
 And can you tell me of such an actor, 
 Such a man? 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Indeed I can. 
 There's one I know 
 Just such a public benefactor. 
 I don't hesitate to call him so. 
 Gaspard Deburau. 
 But how very few have done him justice! 
 
 Deburau 
 Really! In this world that's how it always is. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 A great artist, too, 
 See him and tell me if that's not true. 
 
 Deburau 
 I'll go to-night. 
 
 Doctor 
 That's right. 
 He's the doctor for you. 
 Wait till you begin to laugh. 
 
 1 80
 
 ACT III 
 
 Deburau 
 I'm smiling already, you see. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Good. In anticipation! 
 There's half the battle won. 
 
 Deburau 
 Thanks for your visit. 
 
 Doctor 
 
 You'll have well repaid it 
 If you make Deburau cure you. 
 
 Deburau 
 And do you divide the fee? 
 
 Doctor 
 
 Ah, no, professional etiquette 
 
 Forbids that to be done. 
 
 But, my dear sir, half 
 
 A doctor's reputation 
 
 Is made by such collaboration. 
 
 Science needs all the help that she can get, 
 
 So I shall quite contentedly 
 
 Let him work the cure if I take the credit. 
 
 Charles comes back. 
 181
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Deburau 
 Show the doctor out. 
 
 Charles takes the Doctor into the passage 
 and then returns. 
 
 Deburau 
 He's right. 
 That's the way. 
 What have you been about? 
 
 Charles 
 I've been to the theatre. I saw . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 Well? 
 
 Charles 
 "Pierrot on the See-Saw." 
 
 Deburau 
 What are they playing to-night? 
 
 Charles 
 They're reviving "Old Clo'." 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Who plays my part' 
 182
 
 ACT III 
 
 Charles 
 Legrand. 
 
 Deburau 
 Who did you say? 
 
 Charles 
 Legrand. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Does he indeed! That's a poor sort of joke. 
 Give me my hat, give me my cloak, 
 Don't stand and stare. 
 Run on and tell them I'll be there 
 And ready to start. 
 
 I fear Legrand's prospects are hardly bright. 
 / play to-night ! 
 
 183
 
 THE FOURTH ACT 
 
 185
 
 THE FOURTH ACT 
 
 The interior of the Theatre again. They 
 are playing "Old Clo'." There is a full 
 house, but the audience is fidgety. Deburau 
 is no longer the same actor, he seems to have 
 lost his charm and power. He is making 
 strenuous efforts to be amusing but without 
 any success. He hesitates and makes one 
 mistake after another. The audience very 
 palpably begins to weary of him and pres- 
 ently a hiss is heard. From that there 
 swells in a very few minutes a horrible 
 noise of booing and cat-calling. Bertrand 
 and the Barker at the back of the pit are 
 in great consternation. 
 
 The Barker 
 There's a boo ! 
 
 Bertrand 
 Hark at them ! 
 187
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Barker 
 
 Giving him the bird ! 
 Him! Why? 
 
 Bertrand 
 He's past his job. He's done for. 
 
 Barker 
 
 Oh, my word! 
 
 Deburau pauses in his part and then 
 slowly draws near the footlights. He makes 
 an appealing gesture to the audience and 
 silence falls. 
 
 Voices in the Audience 
 
 He's going to speak! 
 
 Listen ! 
 
 Fancy his speaking! 
 
 What luck! 
 First time he's done it! 
 
 I always thought he was dumb! 
 He has got pluck. 
 
 Deburau does attempt to speak, but he 
 cannot utter a single word. So he tells his 
 audience by a few simple gestures that he 
 1 88
 
 ACT IV 
 
 is ill, that he can't go on, that he has played 
 for the last time. He asks their forgiveness; 
 he says good-bye. By this time there is dead 
 silence in the house. Deburau's tears are 
 falling. He makes his last gesture, slowly, 
 sadly kissing his hand. Suddenly the cur- 
 tain falls. Without another word the audi- 
 ence rises, without another word they move 
 away leaving the theatre empty. 
 
 When they are gone Bertrand appears 
 again at the door of his office, while Laurent 
 comes in through the pass-door. They are 
 both horrified. 
 
 Bertrand 
 What a calamity ; what a calamity ! 
 
 Laurent 
 Ghastly! 
 
 And there he is in his dressing-room 
 Smashed. Poor fellow, oh, poor fellow.' 
 
 x. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 What! and you've a kind word for him, have you? 
 We can chalk that up as his epitaph. 
 
 189
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Laurent 
 
 A bit belated, this effort at amity, 
 Is it; sounds a bit hollow? 
 Well . . . while a man's a success 
 What's an enemy more or less? 
 They're already too many to count by half. 
 But when you seem tumbling to your doom, 
 Though a kind word can't save you, 
 Then it's worth the having. 
 And lastly, 
 
 To the man who can give it it's then worth the 
 giving. 
 
 Bertrand 
 So it is, so it is. 
 
 To the Barker, who has just re-entered. 
 Where's to-night's poster? 
 
 The Barker 
 Right away, Guv'nor! 
 
 The Barker goes off to get it. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Laurent, you're a hero, 
 Most magnanimous. 
 
 190
 
 ACT IV 
 
 But it must have been funny 
 To see you comforting Deburau. 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Well, someone had to. 
 And if you'd had any 
 
 Sense of your duty, you'd have been glad to, 
 Instead of standing and laughing at me. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Not so free, my friend, not quite so free 
 With your moral tropes where I'm concerned. 
 It's proper and pretty to lose your animus 
 For a fellow actor when he's in misfortune, 
 It costs you nothing. But what'll it cost me, this 
 
 catastrophe? 
 
 We've to open again in an hour or so, 
 And, I ask you, how can we? What can we 
 
 do? 
 
 What's to be played and who's to play it? 
 Why the devil didn't I have him turned 
 Out of the theatre! I'm sorry to say it. 
 He has had his triumphs. But this last trophy 
 Breaks the back of my poor old show. 
 It's a death blow! 
 
 191
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 And that's why, my dear Laurent, I can't quite 
 sing to your tune. 
 
 The Barker returns carrying a large 
 poster with Deburau's name on it, which he 
 pins up with a sigh. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Well, what did they make of it? 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Who? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Who, by 
 
 Heaven, who d'yu think I mean, you booby? 
 The audience. What had they to say? 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Nothing! They just walked out and away 
 Without a word, with nothing to say, 
 Sony. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Sorry? 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Yes, and sad, 
 
 And enough to make 'em sad and sorry. 
 
 192
 
 ACT IV 
 
 For they won't see him again, 
 
 Nor, you may add, 
 
 Anyone like him in a hurry. 
 
 So out they were walking into the rain . . 
 
 Bertrand 
 Is it raining ? 
 
 The Barker 
 
 . . . Some of their faces were wet 
 Saying their good-bye in dumb show, 
 Just as Deburau had taught them to 
 Often he's made 'em laugh . . . 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Well, the once too often made 'em cry. 
 This is a day they won't forget. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Nor shall I! 
 
 Shall we now endeavour to soften 
 The blow by advertising : 
 See the surprising 
 
 13 193
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Comedian that makes you weep in buckets full ? 
 That'd please the dear public ; we'd soon have our 
 pockets full ! 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Guv'nor, I know a bit about audiences, don't I? 
 D'you think it's what happened to-night they 
 mind? 
 
 Bertrand 
 I mind it ! 
 
 The Barker 
 You may, 
 But not they. 
 They'd forgive the failure 
 If they could get back again 
 A few of those old evenings behind it. 
 
 Laurent 
 To-night doesn't matter . . . 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Oh, let's get on the track again, 
 Of what's to be done now. 
 
 194
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Laurent 
 
 The real mess is 
 That it isn't so easy to find 
 Another Deburau who may lure . . . 
 And a nice easy task he'll have of it, won't he ? ... 
 Us to forgetting 
 And not regretting 
 The old Deburau's successes. 
 Who have you got in your mind? 
 
 Bertrand 
 Paul Legrand, I suppose. 
 
 Laurent 
 Legrand! For good? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Why not ? He knows 
 All the parts. 
 
 Laurent 
 Oh, yes, he knows the parts. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Why not, then? 
 
 195
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Wait till he starts 
 To play them all. 
 
 Bertrand 
 What do I pay him his salary for? 
 
 Laurent 
 God knows, if you don't, my dear guv'nor! 
 
 Robittard comes through the pass door, 
 
 Robillard 
 Guv'nor. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Well? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Deburau wants to know 
 Who's to play his part in the show 
 To-night. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Why? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Well, he wants to know. 
 196
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 Legrand. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Legrand! 
 
 Bertrand 
 That's settled. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Is it! 
 You know what Deburau feels about him. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 What does it matter to me what he feels! 
 Of course Legrand must play it. 
 Good heavens ! is this a time to visit 
 On my poor head a silly whim? 
 Legrand will get through. 
 What are you after with these appeals, 
 What do you want me to do ? 
 
 Robillard 
 
 (To Laurent) 
 Well, I'll say it. 
 
 (To Bertrand) 
 
 Close for to-night. 
 
 197
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Bertrand 
 Close!! 
 
 What d'you think theatres were made for 
 There are twenty stalls booked . . . and paid 
 
 for. 
 
 And you suppose 
 That I'm going to close! 
 
 Laurent 
 Just for this once. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 For Deburau's sake. 
 
 Laurent 
 To please us all. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 It'll break, . . . it'll break 
 His heart 
 
 If he knows his part 
 Is to be murdered by that . . . that . . . 
 
 Laurent 
 
 Find some excuse 
 
 For shutting down. No one will ever guess 
 You did it out of kindness. 
 
 198
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 What the deuce . . . ! 
 No, no, I tell you. Don't keep on plaguing me. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Then change the play. You can't do less 
 Than that, in decency. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 I won't, that's flat. 
 Legrand goes on. 
 
 4s Bertrand goes to take down the poster 
 Deburau enters. 
 
 Deburau 
 Please let that be. 
 
 Legrand 
 D'you want to play to-night? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Never again. 
 Don't be afraid. 
 
 199
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Bertrand 
 Well, someone must, that's plain. 
 
 Charles, Justine, Laplace, and Honorine 
 have come on. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well, someone shall. 
 Let my name be. 
 
 Bertrand 
 This is nonsensical. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Well, then, let me . . . 
 At least let me put it right 
 In my own way. 
 Wait, and you'll see. 
 
 Bertrand 
 You can't play and not play. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Are you sure? If I just add a C, a capital C? 
 There. (He does so.) That's enough to efface me 
 And it gives you Monsieur Charles Deburau to 
 replace me. 
 
 200
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Charles 
 Father! 
 
 Bertrand 
 Your boy? 
 
 Deburau 
 If you please. 
 
 Bertrand 
 But . . V 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Don't worry. The contract can wait till one sees 
 What he's worth. Or you can give him my first. 
 Eight francs a week ; that wasn't the worst 
 Bargain that you ever made, my friend, was it? 
 Charles, Monsieur Bertrand engages you 
 At eight francs a week. 
 
 Bertrand 
 But he's a child! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Think how a leading part ages you. 
 I was just his age when you took me on. 
 
 201
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Bertrand 
 But you supered. 
 
 Deburau 
 So I did. 
 
 And you told me I'd never learn how to speak 
 And I never have. How I drove you wild. 
 How you wept and how you chided. 
 A great experience ; he ought not to lose it 
 And if I were thinking of him alone . . . ! 
 But there's to-night and the theatre's credit. We 
 Have that to think of have we not? 
 And, besides, let's allow for heredity; 
 I never had the father he's got. 
 
 Laurent 
 That's true. 
 
 Robillard 
 
 Let him try it. 
 
 Bertrand 
 But he don't know the part. 
 
 Deburau 
 Yes, he does. 
 
 Charks 
 Oh, I do! 
 
 202
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Many's the time he has sat to spy it, 
 Such a little fellow, squeezed up in the wings 
 Prompting me 
 Unconsciously ; 
 Gesturing things 
 I was forgetting 
 Prompting's an art 
 Well, to-night 
 I propose 
 To prompt him; 
 To sit and spy 
 From that corner dim. 
 Give up my part? 
 Not yet . . . not quite! 
 For to-night 
 We're to go shares in it . . .he and I. 
 
 Charles 
 My child's game was to play that I was you. 
 
 Deburau 
 What a good game, now I can play it, too! 
 
 (Then to the others) 
 Off with you all and leave us alone. 
 Just for ten minutes give us the stage. 
 
 203
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 (To the Barker) 
 
 Get along, you, and think over your f unniments ! 
 Sony to drive away everyone. 
 
 (To Laurent] 
 Ah, but thank you, good friend. 
 
 Laurent 
 Deburau, let me stay. 
 
 Justine 
 And me. 
 
 Honorine 
 
 What a treat! 
 
 Bertrand 
 May I stay too? 
 
 The Barker 
 I'll book a seat. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Do you really want to hear the sage 
 Talk to the youngster? Oh, but I'm flattered! 
 A pretty plain talk without any ornaments, 
 And no one need stay to the end. 
 
 204
 
 ACT IV 
 
 (To Robillard) 
 
 Run to my dressing place, there's a good fellow. 
 Get me a black stick, rouge, my powder . . . the 
 
 white, 
 
 Not the yellow. 
 Oh, and a couple of bands for the head; and the 
 
 tattered 
 
 Hat with the broad brim, too. 
 And open the wardrobe and bring me the dress 
 The one hanging farthest back on your right ; 
 I wore it for my first success 
 And so shall you 
 To-night. 
 
 Robillard has gone for the things, and 
 when he returns with them, Deburau, as he 
 goes on talking, makes Charles up and 
 dresses him. 
 
 Now, pay attention if you please. 
 Get this firmly fixed in your head, 
 Acting's as easy as shelling peas, 
 If ... Tell me now and tell me truly 
 Are you nervous about to-night? 
 Oh, of course, I know that you'll duly 
 Say that you are. But are you in a real fright? 
 
 205
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Charles 
 I ... 
 
 Deburau 
 Truly now, I said. 
 
 Charles 
 Yes, I am. I'm terrified. 
 
 Bertrand 
 Now, I ask you, if he's terrified . . . ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 As he should be, he's terrified. 
 But that's our own affair 
 The audience doesn't want a share. 
 
 (To Charks) 
 
 Shake in your shoes in your dressing-room; 
 Feel sure you've forgotten 
 Your part; that you're rotten 
 In what you remember. Turn so pale 
 That rouge won't redden you. Be certain you'll 
 
 fail. 
 
 Walk forth as a criminal walks to his doom 
 But, once on the scene 
 
 Once the bell starts to ring and the curtain to rise, 
 
 206
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Let your fright fly away with it up to the flies. 
 
 Once you're over the brink 
 
 If you must think of yourself at all, think 
 
 You're the greatest actor the world's ever seen! 
 
 Now, remember this. Play light, 
 
 And be simple; be sincere, 
 
 But never be trite. 
 
 And never, oh never 
 
 Try to be or to seem too clever. 
 
 What you mean, when you do it, must of course 
 
 be quite clear. 
 And it must seem quite clear what you're going 
 
 to do. 
 
 For an audience must always feel sure of you, 
 Yet, when you do it, it must seem accidentally 
 
 done. 
 
 That's not so difficult as it sounds 
 It's an effect quite easy to get 
 When an audience is watching you, 
 And a play hangs on you. 
 Ah ... and before I forget 
 Never, on any grounds, 
 Never play second to anyone! 
 Now, as to our dumb show, always do 
 Whatever comes most naturally to you. 
 
 207
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 An audience isn't difficult 
 To please; if you find them so, that's your fault. 
 It's only that they won't stand blundering. 
 You must never leave them wondering 
 What on earth it is you're at. 
 
 Laurent 
 That was your secret. One turn and they knew. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 It's a secret anyone's welcome to, 
 
 Theirs for the guessing. 
 
 (Come a little closer.) 
 
 Now; the ordinary gestures, the "Yes, sir" and 
 
 No, sir," 
 You can't grow wrong over. When you come to 
 
 expressing 
 
 Something elaborate; first think it right. 
 Nothing hard in that . . . 
 (Quite still now, don't move) 
 If you want to convey "What a pretty girl" 
 Think it and do 
 
 Whatever comes into your head to do. 
 If it's madness or love, 
 That you're frightened, or pleased, that your 
 
 head's in a whirl, 
 
 208
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Think, think hard, think intensely 
 That you are in love, or in a fright. 
 Then, when you can't keep still any longer, 
 When your feeling grows stronger 
 Than you are, still hold yourself tensely 
 And steep yourself in it 
 For the millionth part of a minute, 
 Then ... let yourself go, 
 And it'll come right. 
 Don't copy me, 
 Don't copy anyone. 
 A professor 
 
 Of acting can only teach you his faults, 
 But let me see 
 There may be one 
 
 Or two tricks. To become the possessor 
 Of these . . . it's as simple as turning somer- 
 saults ! 
 
 For example : 
 That's Time passing. 
 That's for the weather. 
 Make your gestures ample. 
 Now ; if you're at a crossing 
 And someone asks you the way and whether 
 It's long. Make it long, so. Very long, so. 
 14 209
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 And that little gesture is a good sudden "No. 1 
 
 You can do it politely . . . 
 
 (Lift your eyelids. That's better) 
 
 When you're reading a book or a letter 
 
 Let your eyes rest lightly 
 
 For a shade of a second on every word . . . 
 
 (Tuck in your hair a bit ; it's unsightly) 
 
 Don't play with your back 
 
 To an audience, or their attention will slack. 
 
 That you can't afford. 
 
 And each time that you play 
 
 A part, add something new 
 
 While something you 
 
 Feel is less good, take away. 
 
 And . . . love your work. 
 
 Remember the actor's calling. 
 
 Is the finest in the world. 
 
 Is it sometimes a little galling 
 
 When, with lip politely curled 
 
 And a supercilious smirk, 
 
 You are told to your face 
 
 That the theatre has no place 
 
 Among important things? 
 
 I tell you, it's an art, 
 
 That has its springs 
 
 210
 
 ACT IV 
 
 In the heart 
 
 Of all mankind. 
 
 So when the world's wiseacres slight it, never mind. 
 
 And the triumph of triumphs, to hold 
 
 A whole house breathless, to mould 
 
 Them to tears or to laughter! 
 
 Would I sell that power for a king's 
 
 Ransom? Picture it now. 
 
 The curtain has risen. 
 
 For a moment after, 
 
 Silence. Row upon row, 
 
 So silent you'd swear you could hear the shakings 
 
 Of the earrings that bedizen 
 
 That lady there. 
 
 Or the manager as he absconds with your share 
 
 Of the evening's takings. 
 
 All of a sudden you fling 
 
 Across the footlights to them 
 
 Some trivial thing 
 
 That takes their fancy. 
 
 Then it begins. 
 
 A whisper they sway to, a rhythm. 
 
 First it's only a smile you can see, 
 
 Like a ripple that has just 
 
 Been raised by that tiny gust 
 
 211
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Of laughter. But the laughter will keep growing 
 
 Till a gale of it is blowing ; 
 
 A gale that spins 
 
 Away with it, amid the silence it has broken 
 
 Into a thousand pieces, every token 
 
 Of dullness, of care, 
 
 Of trouble, of despair. 
 
 That's what they come hoping for. It isn't worth 
 
 their while 
 To sit three hours in a theatre on the chance that 
 
 you'll make them smile. 
 Though, of course, there's some credit in making 
 
 them smile. 
 But high renown 
 We leave to tragedians. 
 
 It's they who will always be called the great actors. 
 Odd, that in this world it's only expedients 
 For making folk miserable bring you fame. 
 Well, let them stick to it, 
 That cold academical glory of theirs, 
 Their temple of High Art, we can't add a touch to it. 
 Let them look down 
 On you, call you a clown. 
 Let the great world neglect and forget you. Who 
 
 cares? 
 
 212
 
 ACT IV 
 
 It does the same 
 
 To all its other benefactors. 
 
 You get your pay and more than your pay 
 
 If just for a little you draw the breath 
 
 Of that glory that passes so quickly away, 
 
 Popularity. 
 
 Only one thing is better and that's too great a 
 
 rarity ! 
 
 If you've tasted that life you need never feel 
 Starved, till you come to your final meal 
 With death. 
 
 He now turns Charles to the audience 
 dressed like himself. 
 
 Ladies and gentlemen, my successor, 
 Latest recruit to your ranks. 
 Please to give him a sympathetic 
 Welcome. My sincerest thanks. 
 He is to be my best performance 
 And my last, that's certain. 
 Here I stand prophetic, 
 "A greater succeeds a lesser." 
 I finish; he's ready to commence. 
 Prompter, ring up the curtain. 
 Wait a moment, though, 
 
 213
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Why couldn't you pull it up again 
 
 When it had fallen . . . on me . . . just now? 
 
 The Prompter 
 
 (Who has appeared on the stage) 
 The rope gave way. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 The rope gave way ! 
 
 Robillard, do you remember hearing that gipsy 
 say . . . ? 
 
 Prompter 
 
 And I can't think why. It had had no extra 
 
 strain . . . 
 
 Deburau 
 . . . She said that one day it would break of 
 
 itself, 
 
 And never rise again for me; 
 From that day on I'd be laid on the shelf. 
 It has come then, you see. 
 Oh, painted curtain that fell 
 Between my audience and me; 
 So lightly on the stage, 
 So heavily on my soul. 
 For the last time, I could tell. 
 Like a guillotine it fell. 
 
 214
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Oh, faded curtain, for me 
 
 The emblem of the whole 
 
 Of Life's beauty and mystery. 
 
 In the book of my life you bound 
 
 I have turned the final page; 
 
 Sleep is stealing on me, 
 
 I let it fall to the ground. 
 
 They throw on the soldier's bier 
 
 The flag that he held so dear. 
 
 When I've to be carried away 
 
 Don't stifle me with the pall 
 
 Of a solemn funeral. 
 
 Fling over me 
 
 This curtain, carelessly, 
 
 That the people you meet on the way 
 
 May look and smile and say, 
 
 "Why, at last that poor buffoon 
 
 Of a Pierrot's flown back to the moon." 
 
 But now, ring up, stand by. 
 
 For the first appearance of a new Pierrot. 
 
 The Curtain goes up. 
 
 Look, how it rises to welcome you, 
 By itself almost, 
 
 215
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 As it fell of its own accord for me. 
 Quick, on you go. 
 
 Charles dashes through the pass door and 
 on to the stage. 
 
 There now, look at him! Won't he do? 
 Where's another theatre can boast 
 Such a such a prodigy? 
 
 Robillard 
 (half chaffingly) Come, you're not going to cry ! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Don't grudge me a tear or two of shameless envy. 
 There he stands on the threshold of paradise ! 
 Enter; first entrance, 
 Dancing. No, no, not at a run ! 
 That's right, that's charming; that'll entrance 
 Them. Yes, your career has begun. 
 If you'll be humble, and take just a little advice 
 I'll back that you'll then vie 
 With the best of them. Now, come here. 
 Stand where I used to stand. 
 Where? 
 Why, in the middle ! 
 
 216
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Say "Good morning." No, no, one wave of the 
 
 hand 
 
 Will do. And don't fiddle. 
 When you've done a thing, let it alone. 
 That's better. 
 
 Laurent 
 Show him your Starving Tramp. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Yes, yes. Now, turn toward 
 Us. Tell us you're dying of hunger. Stamp 
 With the cold. No, that's too broad. 
 Not like an animal, like a man. 
 That's better. Again. 
 
 Robillard 
 Now, the man thieving and caught as he ran. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 That's not so easy. Come here, I'll explain. 
 When you want to show . . . 
 
 He talks to Charles over the footlights. 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 (To the Barker) St! Amedee, here! 
 
 217
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Guv'nor? 
 
 Bertrand 
 
 We're in for it. 
 
 You'll have to beat the big drum for the youngster, 
 Tell 'em this is the very latest bit 
 Of talent picked from amongst a 
 Crowd of competitors put in the shade by him. 
 
 The Barker 
 I can gas a lot about the father. 
 
 Bertrand 
 I'd rather 
 
 You didn't. He's done for. Why worry? 
 What's the use now of successes once made by 
 
 him? 
 
 We've the future to think about. 
 If you mention papa you'd better say 
 That the boy can beat his father hollow. 
 Tell 'em he's what papa was thirty years back, 
 Tell 'em his father has trained him to follow 
 His footsteps and to cut him out. 
 And tell 'em that it has cost me a stack 
 
 218
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Of money to collar him.. Lay it on thick 
 And be quick. 
 
 The Barker goes away. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Drop your curtain. The lesson is over. 
 Ring up on the show 
 Whenever you like; and discover 
 The new Pierrot. 
 
 The Curtain is dropped. 
 
 Robillard 
 Gaspard, it's good of you. 
 
 Deburau 
 What is? 
 
 Robillard 
 To give the boy his chance. 
 
 Deburau 
 (Shrugging) What else could a father do? 
 
 Laurent 
 
 To have given him all you've got, 
 To have told him all you know. 
 
 219
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 Robillard 
 
 (To Charles) Here; let's have a glance 
 At you. Well, are you happy? 
 
 Charles 
 
 Oh, yes! 
 
 Deburau 
 
 (To himself) I've not . . . 
 I've not told him all I know! 
 
 The girls gather round Charles. 
 
 Justine 
 And how well you look! 
 
 Honorine 
 
 Charming! 
 
 Justine 
 
 So smart! 
 
 Honorine 
 
 You'll have successes in plenty. 
 Of all sorts. 
 
 Justine 
 
 Yes! 
 
 220
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Honorine 
 
 You've made a start 
 Already. 
 
 Justine 
 How old are you, Charles? 
 
 Charles 
 
 I'm twenty. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Charles, come here. 
 Are you losing your heart? 
 Oh, don't fear 
 I'll take that in bad part. 
 But, for a minute more, listen to me. 
 I look back over my life, 
 Its failures and successes, 
 Its impotence and strife; 
 Now, at the end of it, this is 
 The lesson I've learnt by heart. 
 There are two unfading things, 
 Love and Art. 
 And not so regretfully 
 I see them to-day take wings; 
 I've had my share of both in a way. 
 
 221
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 But if you've heard me say 
 
 Love was all that counted, 
 
 I was wrong. 
 
 Love without art amounted 
 
 To something for a season; 
 
 But it can't hold you long. 
 
 Art without love? That's rhyme without reason. 
 
 No, you must strive 
 
 To hold them each by a hand, 
 
 If you want to understand 
 
 What life is innermostly; 
 
 If you want to be 
 
 Both happy and alive. 
 
 To-night you may make your first success ; 
 
 If you do, there'll be many more to follow. 
 
 Do you think they'll be enough to content you? 
 
 Do you think the applause will never sound 
 
 hollow? 
 
 Do you think that is all the good God meant you 
 To have when he gave you the heart of a man 
 In the skin of an actor? Gather life's joys while 
 
 you can ; 
 
 Life's sorrows, life's dangers; 
 It's your birthright to know them. 
 A man's life, nothing less! 
 
 222
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Give your audience whole-heartedly all that you 
 
 owe them; 
 But remember that, friends as they are, they are 
 
 strangers, 
 
 And while their applauding still echoes above you 
 Find someone to love . . . and, oh, someone 
 
 to love you. 
 
 The voice of the Barker is heard and the 
 beat of his big drum. 
 
 The Barker 
 Ladies and gentlemen . . . 
 
 Honorine 
 
 Quiet; he's begun! 
 
 Justine 
 
 Open the door; we can hear better then. What 
 fun! 
 
 The Barker 
 
 Gentlemen and ladies, 
 Our trade is 
 To amuse you; 
 
 And to-night we offer something new, 
 A new Pierrot, 
 
 223
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 To take the place of our world-famed Deburau. 
 
 I know what you're going to say, my man ; 
 
 No one can. 
 
 Well, I excuse you, 
 
 There are precious few 
 
 Who could. But I'm not boasting. I believe 
 
 That in these serious matters one can't afford to 
 
 deceive 
 
 One's public ; and I never do. 
 But we are going to deceive you, too. 
 For when you see him, with one accord 
 You'll say: That is Deburau! 
 And you'll be right, though you'll be wrong. 
 What's the secret, what's the riddle? 
 Who can this be? 
 As good as he; 
 
 As light on his feet, and rather lighter; 
 As clever as he, and cleverer too ; 
 As charming, and with a little more charm? 
 Well, I give you my word 
 That this Deburau 
 
 Who is not Deburau, and is Deburau . . . 
 Gentlemen, does it take you so long 
 To guess? 
 
 I thought you'd have stopped me in the middle. 
 
 224
 
 ACT IV 
 
 Who could be as great a success 
 
 As Deburau, and the possessor 
 
 Of all his secrets; 
 
 Who but one? 
 
 His son! 
 
 We present you to-night with his son and successor. 
 
 Charles 
 Father, what lies he's telling! What a shame! 
 
 Deburau 
 Hush! That's how he earns his money. 
 
 Charles 
 Let me stop him. 
 
 Deburau 
 
 No, no! 
 
 Charles 
 
 But how could I ever earn 
 half your fame? 
 
 Deburau 
 
 Who knows? The public is so funny ! 
 is 225
 
 DEBURAU 
 
 The Barker 
 Playgoers of Paris, 
 
 TJie performance is just about to begin 
 And he who tarries 
 Stands a very good chance of not getting in. 
 
 THE END 
 
 226
 
 -/? Selection from the 
 Catalogue of 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 Complete Catalogues sent 
 on application
 
 Enter Madame 
 
 A Play in Three Acts 
 
 By 
 Gilda Varesi and Dolly Byrne 
 
 Introduction by 
 Alexander Woollcott 
 
 "It reads as well as it acts" which 
 is saying much, because the on-stage 
 perfection of Enter Madame is extra- 
 ordinary. The delicious situations, 
 delicate humor, and sparkling dialogue 
 have made the play an outstanding suc- 
 cess. And here in the book you have 
 it all, permanently. 
 
 G. P. Putnam's Sons 
 
 New York London
 
 The Bad Man 
 
 A Novel 
 
 By 
 Charles Hanson Towne 
 
 Based on the Play by 
 Porter Emerson Browne 
 
 Who has not heard of this delightful 
 Bad Man? For many months he has 
 been seen in the theatre; now he is 
 captured between the covers of a book. 
 Here he is. Shake hands with him. 
 Get to know him. He is the best com- 
 panion you could find for a quiet hour 
 or two. The novel is as exciting as 
 the play. 
 
 G. P. Putnam's Sons 
 
 New York London
 
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