Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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FRANcOISE. Good!
GUeRIN [_ironically_]. It's so long since I've seen Marcel.
FRANcOISE. Three years.
GUeRIN. So many things have happened since!
FRANcOISE. You find him a married man, for one thing--
GUeRIN. Happily married!
FRANcOISE. Yes, happily!
GUeRIN. Dear old Marcel! I'll be so glad to see him!
FRANcOISE. I see you haven't forgotten my husband, Monsieur. Thank you!
GUeRIN. How can I help admiring so stout and loyal a heart as his!
FRANcOISE. You'll have to like me, too!
GUeRIN. I already do.
FRANcOISE. Really? Then you believe everything you write?
GUeRIN. Yes, Madame.
FRANcOISE. Take care! This morning I was re-reading one of your letters, in which you promised me your heartiest support. [_Offering him her hand._] Then we're friends, are we not?
GUeRIN [_after hesitating, takes her hand_]. Good friends, Madame!
FRANcOISE. Word of honor?
GUeRIN. Word of honor!
FRANcOISE [_sitting_]. Then I'll stay. Sit down, and let's talk.
[_Guerin is uncertain._] We have so much to say to each other! Let's talk about you first.
GUeRIN [_forced to sit down_]. About me? But I--
FRANcOISE. Yes, about you.
GUeRIN [_quickly_]. No, about _your_ happiness, your welfare.
FRANcOISE. About my great happiness!
GUeRIN [_ironically_]. Let us speak about your--existence--with which you are so content. I must know all the happiness of this house!
FRANcOISE. Happy people never have anything to say.
GUeRIN. You never have troubles, I presume?
FRANcOISE. None, so far.
GUeRIN. But what might happen? To-day you are living peacefully with Marcel, a man whose marriage was, it seems, strongly opposed. Life owes you no more than it has already given you.
FRANcOISE. My happiness is complete. I had never imagined that a man's goodness could make a woman so happy!
GUeRIN. Goodness?
FRANcOISE. Of course!
GUeRIN. Love, you mean Madame!
FRANcOISE. Oh, Marcel's love for me--!
GUeRIN. Something lacking?
FRANcOISE. No!
GUeRIN [_interested_]. Tell me. Am I not your friend?
FRANcOISE. Seriously, Monsieur, you know him very well: how could he be in love with me? Is it even possible? He allows one to love him, and I ask nothing more.
GUeRIN. Nothing?
FRANcOISE. Only to be allowed to continue. [_Gesture from Guerin._] I am not like other women. I don't ask for rights; but I do demand tenderness, and consideration. He is free, I am not--I'll admit that.
But I don't mind, I only hope that we may continue as we are!
GUeRIN. Have you some presentiment, Madame?
FRANcOISE. I am afraid, Monsieur. My happiness is not of the proud, demonstrative variety, it is a kind of happiness that is continually trembling for its safety. If I told you--
GUeRIN. Do tell me!
FRANcOISE. Later! How I pity any one who loves and has to suffer for it!
GUeRIN [_surprised_]. You--!
FRANcOISE. I am not on the side of the jealous, of the betrayed--
GUeRIN [_aside, sympathetically_]. Poor little woman! [_With great sincerity._] Then you are not sure of him?
FRANcOISE [_more and more excited_]. He is Marcel! Admit for a moment that he loves me to-day--I want so to believe it! To-morrow will he love me? Does he himself know whether he will love me then? Isn't he at the mercy of a whim, a pa.s.sing fancy--of the weather, or the appearance of the first woman he happens to meet? I am only twenty, and I am not always as careful as I might be. Happiness is so difficult!
GUeRIN. Yes, it is. [_To himself._] It is! [_To Francoise._] Perhaps you are conscientious, too sincere?
FRANcOISE. I feel that; yes, I think I am, but every time I try to hide my affection from him, he becomes indifferent, almost mean--as if he were glad to be relieved of a duty--of being good!
