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Front Page arrow Titles (by Subject) arrow ACT V. - The Works of Voltaire, Vol. IX The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Alzire, Orestes, Sémiramis, Catiline, Pandora) and Part II (The Scotch Woman, Nanine, The Prude, The Tatler).

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ACT V. - Voltaire, The Works of Voltaire, Vol. IX The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Alzire, Orestes, Sémiramis, Catiline, Pandora) and Part II (The Scotch Woman, Nanine, The Prude, The Tatler). [1901]

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From The Works of Voltaire, A Contemporary Version, (New York: E.R. DuMont, 1901), A Critique and Biography by John Morley, notes by Tobias Smollett, trans. William F. Fleming. Vol. IX The Dramatic Works Part 1 (Alzire, Orestes, Sémiramis, Catiline, Pandora) and Part II (The Scotch Woman, Nanine, The Prude, The Tatler).

Part of: The Works of Voltaire. A Contemporary Version, in 21 vols.

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ACT V.

SCENE I.

blandford.

[Alone.

What will become of me? where shall I fly for safety? my misfortunes follow one another without end: I go to sea; a pirate attacks and sinks my vessel: I come to land, and there I am told that an ungrateful woman, whom I adored, is a worse pirate still: a strong box, which I had left behind, is my only resource: a rascal promises to give it me back, and puts me off from time to time, and he perhaps may prove a third corsair: I am waiting for Adine, and he is not come yet; everybody provokes, and everybody avoids me: all perhaps the consequence of my unhappy temper which made me suspicious of every friend, and open to every enemy: if it be so, I am wrong; I own I am, and fortune has a right to sport thus with me: of what service is my melancholy virtue but to make me more sensible to my miseries, and more conscious of having deserved them? this boy, too, not come yet!

SCENE II.

blandford, mme. de burletpassing across the stage.

blandford.

[Stopping her.

Stay, madam, I beseech you stay, and calm, if possible, this tempest of my soul; for heaven’s sake, one word with you: where are you running to?

mme. de burlet.

To supper: to be merry: I’m in haste, sir.

blandford.

I know I affronted you, and you have reason to be angry; but forget and forgive.

mme. de burlet.

[Smiling.

O I have forgiven you a great while ago: I’m not angry, I assure you.

blandford.

You are too good: will your gayety for once deign to interest itself in my distress?

mme. de burlet.

Gay as I am, M. Blandford, I assure you, I have friendship, esteem, and pity for you.

blandford.

You are sorry, then, for my unhappy fate.

mme. de burlet.

Your unhappy fate! yes: but more for your unhappy temper.

blandford.

You are honest, however, and truth you know, has always charms for me: but say, is Darmin a faithful friend, or does he deceive me?

mme. de burlet.

Darmin loves you, and possesses all your virtues with more softness and complacency.

blandford.

And Bartolin?

mme. de burlet.

You want me to answer for Bartolin, too, and for all the world, I suppose: excuse me; Bartolin, for aught I know, is an honest cashier; what reason have you to suspect him? he’s your friend, and the friend of—Dorfise.

blandford.

Of Dorfise? but tell me freely; could Dorfise, could she entertain a passion for a boy, and in so short a time, too? and what is this lawyer that Mondor talks of? public report says he’s to marry her.

mme. de burlet.

Public reports should be despised.

blandford.

I am this moment come from her: she has sworn eternal truth to me: she has wept: love and grief were in her eyes: did they belie her heart? is she false? and is Adine—you laugh at me.

mme. de burlet.

I laugh at your ridiculous figure: come, come, take courage, man: as for the boy, take my word for it, he’ll never forsake you; ’tis impossible.

blandford.

You give me comfort: the coxcomb, Mondor, is not worth my care; Dorfise loves me, and I love her forever.

mme. de burlet.

Forever? that’s too much.

blandford.

Not where one is beloved; but then this Adine must be a base calumniator, must have a bad heart.

mme. de burlet.

O no: be assured, he has a noble mind, candid, honest, and ingenuous, the happy favorite of indulgent nature.

blandford.

You mock me, madam.

mme. de burlet.

Indeed I don’t: ’tis truth.

blandford.

Now am I plunged again in darkness and uncertainty; you sport with my distress, and take pleasure in tormenting me: Dorfise, or he, has deeply injured me: one of them, you must allow, has been a traitor to me; is it not so?

mme. de burlet.

[Laughing.

That may be.

blandford.

If it is, you see what reason I had—

mme. de burlet.

And after all it may not be so: I accuse nobody.

blandford.

I’ll be revenged.

mme. de burlet.

Ridiculous! be less angry and more discreet: come, I’ll tell you what; will you take the only sure method, one that I shall recommend to you?

blandford.

I will.

mme. de burlet.

Then leave this dark mysterious affair to itself; make no bustle about it, but turn everything, as I do, into a jest; take your money from Bartolin, and live along with us without care or solicitude: never go too deeply into things, but float with me upon the surface; you know the world, and bear with it; the only way to enjoy is to skim lightly over it: you look upon me as a giddy creature, and so I am; but let me tell you, the only matter of importance in this life is to enjoy ourselves, and be happy.

SCENE III.

blandford.

[Alone.

To be happy! good! excellent advice! would not one think now it were an easy thing; that one had only to wish for happiness, to possess it? would it were so! and why should it not be? why should I take so much pains to make myself unhappy? shall I suffer this boy, and Darmin, and Mondor to distract me thus? no: I’ll follow this giddy girl’s advice; she’s gay, but honest and sincere: Dorfise loves me, and I am yet secure: for the future, I’ll see nothing, listen to nothing: they wanted to alarm me with this Adine, to hoodwink, and then to lead me where they pleased; but I’m not to be caught in their snares: Darmin is wrapped up in that niece of his, and would fain palm her upon me; but I detest her: ha! what’s this?

[Adine appears in woman’s clothes at the farther end of the stage.

Yonder’s that unhappy youth who has caused me so much uneasiness: he looks exactly like a girl: how genteel his air, and so easy, too, as if the clothes had been made for him! the face is too truly female.

SCENE IV.

blandford, adine.

adine.

Well, sir, you see I’m dressed for my part, and now you will know the truth.

blandford.

I desire to know nothing more about it! I have heard enough; leave me, I beseech you; I have altered my sentiments, and hate this disguise; go, go, put on your own habit, and trouble yourself no more with this affair.

adine.

What say you, sir? at last then I perceive it is not in my power to change your unalterable heart, or to reverse your cruel fate; alas! you know not the weight of grief that hangs upon me, but ere long you will see the fatal effect of it: farewell! I leave you, sir, forever.

blandford.

What can this mean? he weeps! speak, I entreat thee, tell me, what interest hast thou in my happiness or misery?

adine.

My interest, sir, was yours: till this moment never knew I any other: but I have been to blame, I tried to serve you; ’tis not the first time.

blandford.

The innocence of his look, his modest confidence, his voice, his air, his open and ingenuous behavior, still plead for him—but the hour is past when this intrigue you told me of was to have taken place; I was to have been an eye-witness of it.

adine.

Hark! I hear a door opening: this is the place, and this the time, when you shall be convinced who it is that loves you.

blandford.

Just heaven! it is possible?

adine.

It is.

blandford.

Stay you here then: but ’tis all a trick, an artifice: Dorfise! no—

adine.

Hush! I hear a noise: it comes towards us: I’m frightened, ’tis so dark.

blandford.

Fear nothing.

adine.

Be silent: for I hear somebody coming: hush! away.

SCENE V.

adine, blandford,on one side of the stage, which is supposed to be quite dark;dorfiseon the other, on tiptoe.

dorfise.

I thought I heard my charmer’s voice; how punctual he is! the dear boy.

adine.

Hush!

dorfise.

Hush, is it you?

adine.

Yes: ’tis I: still faithful to my love: ’tis I who come here to prove that I have deserved a better return for all my tenderness.

dorfise.

I cannot give thee a better: you must forgive me; I would not have made you wait so long, my dear, but Bartolin, whom I did not expect, is returned: in spite of all my care, he has got a fit of jealousy upon him.

adine.

Perhaps he is afraid of meeting Blandford here: he is a dangerous rival.

dorfise.

Very likely, indeed: O my dear, what with Blandford, and my vile husband, I’m dreadfully hampered: I don’t know which I hate most: in short, I’m sure of nothing, but that I love you.

adine.

You hate Blandford then heartily?

dorfise.

I think I do: fear naturally begets aversion.

adine.

Well, but your other spouse—

dorfise.

O him I never think of.

blandford.

[Aside.

How I could wish now—

adine.

[Softly to Blandford.

Hush! hush!

dorfise.

I have been consulting, my dear, about the contract: it certainly might be set aside: I wish it were, and then I might have hopes of another match.

adine.

What, of marrying me?

dorfise.

I think the best way would be for us to part for a time, to avoid scandal; and then meet, and be united by a sacred and a lasting tie.

adine.

A lasting tie! come then: let us begone: but how are we to live?

dorfise.

Your prudent foresight charms me: I always admired your discretion: you must know, then, the fighting M. Blandford, a hero at sea, but an arrant blockhead at home, when he left Marseilles, to go after the pirates, most cordially and most affectionately consigned to me with his heart, his money and jewels also: as I was, like him, a novice in these affairs, I put them into the hands of my other husband; from him I must endeavor to recover them, and assist Blandford: the poor man is honest and should live: away: let us part immediately, and take care nobody follows us.

adine.

But what will the world say?

dorfise.

O never heed it: I was afraid of its scandal before I loved: but now I despise it: I’ll be a slave to none but thee.

adine.

But me?

dorfise.

I’ll go immediately and get this strong box: that you know will be very necessary to us both: stay here, I’ll be back in an instant.

SCENE VI.

blandford, adine.

adine.

Well, sir, what think you now?

blandford.

Never did I behold such base, such black ingratitude, such infernal falsehood; and yet, Adine, you see the force of powerful virtue, how its lively instinct speaks even in the most corrupted heart.

adine.

How, sir, in what?

blandford.

You see the perfidious wretch dared not rob me of all; she talked of assisting me.

adine.

[Ironically.

O yes, you are mightily obliged to her: have you not another strong box to intrust with this virtuous lady?

blandford.

Nay, do not laugh at me, Adine, nor plant such daggers in my heart.

adine.

I meant to heal and not to wound it: but can you yet admire her?

blandford.

No: she is loathsome: falsehood has robbed her of every charm.

adine.

If, sir, I free you from her snares, may I flatter myself, that while you detest her vices, you will not forget my honest service?

blandford.

No, generous youth! I look on you as my son and my deliverer, the guardian angel, whom heaven hath sent down to preserve me; the half of all I have will be but a poor reward for thy care and fidelity.

adine.

You must not know at present what reward I aspire to: but can your heart refuse the request which Darmin perhaps may ask of you?

blandford.

Ha! thou hast removed the veil: I see, I see it all; but who, what art thou? art thou indeed what thou resemblest?

adine.

[Smiling.

Whatever I am, for heaven’s sake, be silent now: I hear Dorfise coming this way.

dorfise.

[With strong box.

I’ve got the box; propitious love has favored my design: here, my dear, take it: away: let us be gone: have you got it fast?

blandford.

[Taking it from her, and counterfeiting the voice of Adine.

Yes.

dorfise.

Come along then.

SCENE VII.

blandford, dorfise, adine, bartolinwith a sword in his hand, in the dark, he runs up to Adine.

bartolin.

Stop, villain, stop! art thou not satisfied with robbing me of my wife, but must run away with my money, too?

adine.

[To Blandford.

Help! murder! help!

blandford.

[Fighting with one hand, and holding out the box to Adine with the other.

Take the box.

SCENE VIII.

blandford, dorfise, adine, bartolin, darmin, mme. de burlet, collette, mondorwith a napkin and a bottle in his hand. Flambeaux.

mme. de burlet.

What’s the matter here! hui! hui! what! fighting, too?

mondor.

Hold, hold, gentlemen, what is all this noise about?

adine.

[To Blandford.

You’re not wounded, sir, I hope?

dorfise.

[In confusion.

Ha!

mme. de burlet.

What is the cause of this fray, gentlemen? pray inform us.

blandford.

[To Bartolin, after disarming him.

O nothing, madam; only this worthy gentleman, and trusty treasurer, this honest keeper of the strong box, had robbed me of my mistress and my fortune: by the assistance of this amiable youth, I have detected their infamous designs, and recovered my money: go, sir, I leave you to your miserable fate, to this virtuous lady: know, my friends, I have unmasked their treacherous hearts; this villain—

bartolin.

[Going off.

Your servant, sir.

mondor.

A ha! what comes of my assignation now?

blandeord.

O, sir, they made a fool of you.

darmin.

And of you too, I think.

blandford.

They did so, indeed: I feel it yet.

mondor.

Treated you like an idiot.

blandford.

Dreadful, horrible! O prudery, how I detest thee!

mondor.

Well, come, let us think no more of prudes, wives, or women, but go in and drink about; that’s my way of drowning misfortunes: the man that drinks is never melancholy.

mme. de burlet.

I’m really sorry my cousin Dorfise should behave so foolishly: to be sure, it will set the world to talking, but it will be all over soon, and there’s an end of it.

darmin.

Come, Blandford, banish sorrow, and for the future take care of a prude: but do you know this boy, who has restored to you your honor and fortune, and saved you from the dangerous precipice which your blind passion had led you to the brink of?

blandford.

[Looking at Adine.

But—

darmin.

’Tis my niece.

blandford.

O heaven!

darmin.

The very woman whom I so often proposed to my deluded friend; who, deceived by a faithless wretch, despised and hated all but her.

blandford.

How could I injure, by an unkind refusal, so many charms! such beauty and such virtue!

adine.

You never would have known me, if chance and my own constancy had not removed the veil of black ingratitude, and saved you from yourself.

darmin.

You owe everything, your fortune, and your reason to her generous love: what, then, is she to hope for in return? what will you do to make her amends?

blandford.

[Kneeling to Adine.

Adore her!

mondor.

This turn of affairs is as agreeable as it is surprising: we shall all be gainers by the change: away.

End of the Fifth and Last Act.

THE TATLER