Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 29

LAMBLIN. Not at all. I think of you very often, and if you were to disappear, I should miss you a great deal. Only it's a long way between that and disturbing my equilibrium.

MADAME COGe. And I suppose you love your wife?

LAMBLIN. Are you jealous?

MADAME COGe. I am, and I have reason to be be....

LAMBLIN. How childish of you! You know very well that you are the only woman, only--

MADAME COGe. Ah, there is an "only"!

LAMBLIN. Yes,--only, just because I love you is no reason why I should feel no affection for her, and that you should treat her as you do! She is so devoted!

MADAME COGe. What is there so extraordinary about her?

LAMBLIN [_becoming excited_]. She does for me what others would not do--you for instance! She has a steady affection for me; I keep it for my bad moments; her action doesn't turn in every wind. You should see her, so resigned, so anxious to do everything for my comfort and convenience! She's worried when I have a headache, she runs for my slippers when I come home in wet weather--from your house! [_Deeply moved._] You see that cognac there? That was the second gla.s.s I poured out for myself this evening; the moment I started to drink it her little hand stretched forth and took it from me, because she said I would make myself ill! [_He starts to weep._] You know, I poured it out just in order that she should prevent my drinking it. These things stir the heart! [_A pause._] Now you must go.

MADAME COGe. No, no. I love you, and I--

LAMBLIN. You are selfish. And you know I can't stand selfish people. You want to deprive me of a quiet evening in the bosom of my family.

MADAME COGe. I want you to love me, and me alone. I want you to leave your home if need be.

LAMBLIN. Yes, and if I were to fall sick--which might happen, though I have a strong const.i.tution, thank G.o.d!--I know you. You're the best woman in the world, but that doesn't prevent your being a little superficial!

MADAME COGe. Superficial!

LAMBLIN. Yes, you are, and you can't deny it! Your dropping in on me, like a bolt from the blue, proves it conclusively. And when you once begin chattering about yourself, about your dresses, oh, my! You never stop. You can't be serious, your conversation is not the sort that pleases a man, flatters and amuses him.

MADAME COGe. Oh!

LAMBLIN. You never talk about _him_! One night I remember, I was a little sick and you sent me home. _There_ they made tea for me. The cook was already in bed, and Marthe didn't hesitate an instant to go to the kitchen and soil her hands!

MADAME COGe. When was that? When was that?

LAMBLIN. For G.o.d's sake, don't scream so! Not more than two weeks ago.

MADAME COGe. You didn't say what was the matter with you, that's all.

LAMBLIN. I complained enough, Heaven knows. [_A pause._]

MADAME COGe. Then you won't come?

LAMBLIN. No.

MADAME COGe [_resolutely_]. Very well, then, farewell.

LAMBLIN. Now, you mustn't get angry. [_He puts his arm round her waist_]. You know I can't do without you. You are always my dear little Mathilde, my darling little girl. Aren't you? Do you remember yesterday, eh? You know I love you--deeply?

MADAME COGe. On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and from time to time on Sundays. Thanks! [_She starts to go._]

LAMBLIN. Mathilde!

MADAME COGe. Good evening. [_Returning to him._] Do you want me to tell you something? Though I may be superficial, _you_ are a selfish egotist, and you find your happiness in the tears and suffering of those who love you! Good-by! [_She starts to go again._]

LAMBLIN. Mathilde, Mathilde, dear! To-morrow?

MADAME COGe [_returning_]. Do you want me to tell you something else?

When a man is married and wants to have a mistress, he would do much better and act more uprightly to leave his wife!

LAMBLIN [_simply_]. Why?

MADAME COGe. Why?--Good evening! [_She goes out._]

LAMBLIN. Mathilde, Mathilde! Did I make her angry? Oh, she'll forget it all in a quarter of an hour. My, what a headache! [_Catching sight of Marthe, who enters from the right._] Marthe! She looks furious! She saw Mathilde go out! What luck!

MARTHE [_furiously_]. Who was that who just left?

LAMBLIN. Why--

MARTHE. Who was that who just left? Answer me!

LAMBLIN. It was--

MARTHE. Madame Coge, wasn't it? Don't lie, I saw her! What can you be thinking of? To bring your mistress here! I don't know what's prevented my going away before, and leaving you to your debauchery! This is the end--understand? I've had enough. You're going to live alone from now on. [_He starts to speak._] Alone. Good-by, monsieur!

LAMBLIN [_moved_]. Marthe! [_She dashes out. Lamblin goes to the door through which Marthe has gone._] Marthe, Marthe, little one! Tell me that you forgive me. [_Coming down-stage._] It's all up! Good Lord!

[_Enter Madame Bail._]

LAMBLIN [_goes to her, nearly in tears_]. Oh, Mother, all is lost!

MADAME BAIL. No, no, you great child! I know everything, and I promise it will be all right.

LAMBLIN. No, no, I tell you. Marthe told me she wanted to leave me.

MADAME BAIL. Now, don't carry on that way. I don't want to see you cry.

LAMBLIN. But how can I be calm when my whole future is ruined?

MADAME BAIL. Nothing of the sort. Don't you think I know my own daughter? She is too well educated, she has too much common sense, to leave you.

LAMBLIN [_a little consoled_]. You think so? Oh, if that were only true!

MADAME BAIL. But it is true! She's crying now; her tears will ease her, and make her change her mind.

LAMBLIN. Yes, yes, let her cry, let her cry all she wants to!

MADAME BAIL. I tell you she is yours; she loves you.