The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda - LightNovelsOnl.com
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[_All go out except Marion, whom The King does not see. Duke de Bellegarde sees her crouching on the threshold of the door and goes to her._
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (_low to Marion_).
My child, You can't remain here, crouching by this door; What are you doing like a statue there?
Get up and go away!
MARION.
I'm waiting here For them to kill me!
L'ANGELY (_low to Duke de Bellegarde_).
Leave her there, my lord!
[_Low to Marion._] Remain!
[_He returns to The King, who is seated in the great armchair and is in a profound reverie._
SCENE VIII
The King, L'Angely
THE KING (_sighing deeply_).
Ah! L'Angely, my heart is sick.
'Tis full of bitterness. I cannot smile.
You, only, have the power to cheer me. Come!
You stand in no awe of my majesty.
Come, throw a glint of pleasure in my soul.
[_A pause._
L'ANGELY.
Life is a bitter thing, your Majesty.
THE KING.
Alas!
L'ANGELY.
Man is a breath ephemeral!
THE KING.
A breath, and nothing more!
L'ANGELY.
Unfortunate Is any one who is both man and king.
Is it not true?
THE KING.
A double burden--yes.
L'ANGELY.
And better far than life, sire, is the tomb, If but its gloom is deep enough!
THE KING.
I've thought That always!
L'ANGELY.
To be dead or unborn is The only happiness. Yes, man's condemned!
THE KING.
You give me pleasure when you talk like this!
[_A silence._
L'ANGELY.
Once in the tomb, think you one e'er gets out?
THE KING (_whose sadness has increased with the Fool's words_).
We'll know that later. I wish I were there!
[_Silence._ Fool, I'm unhappy! Do you comprehend?
L'ANGELY.
I see it in your face so thin and worn, And in your mourning--
THE KING.
Ah, why should I laugh?
Your tricks are lost on me! What use is life To you? The fine profession! Jester to the King!
Bell out of tune, a jumping-jack to play with, Whose half-cracked laugh is but a poor grimace!
What is there in the world for you, poor toy?
Why do you live?
L'ANGELY.
For curiosity.
But you--why should you live? I pity you!
I'd sooner be a woman than a king Like you. I'm but a jumping-jack whose string You hold; but underneath your royal coat There's hid a tauter string, a strong arm holds.
