Clair de Lune Part 22

GWYMPLANE

Anyone can misuse a word, but my voice is lost in a stammer of shame.

DEA

I do not understand, but for what is love save to pa.s.s understanding?

[_She puts her arm through his_] Come, let us go.

d.u.c.h.eSS [_with furious malice_]

What a charming way of conducting life, little blind girl! When your lover is tired of pursuing his latest fancy and has been thrown out [_almost stamping her foot_] he will return and grow warm in the rays of your faith.

DEA

Gwymplane will not fancy anyone save me. Ursus says so, and besides I know it--I could not live if I did not know it.

d.u.c.h.eSS [_laughing_]

[_GWYMPLANE steps menacingly towards her._]

Clown, clown, you shall not murder me because I do not champion your deceits. [_to DEA_] Your lover does not care that I should repeat the poetry of his conversation to me this evening, but it was such rare poetry--more rare than I wanted in fact. [_mimicking derisively_] "I feel as if we were in a black barge upon a scarlet sea, as if in a moment our boat would dip over the horizon line, and we two should be lost forever," or--here is another pretty line--"I feel as if all the rays of light in the world were flowing from behind the chalice of your pale face."

DEA [_putting her hand to her heart_]

Oh, Gwymplane--the last thing she said--was so like--so like----

d.u.c.h.eSS

Maybe it is a stanza that he says to all of us. Poets are peculiar creatures--they have their lines by heart and insist upon repeating them, even at the wrong moment.

DEA [_staggers_]

Gwymplane, my love--for you are my love--I am terribly hurt somewhere--Let us go.

GWYMPLANE

[_Supporting DEA and turning to the d.u.c.h.eSS._]

You did not have your pleasure, I know, and----

d.u.c.h.eSS [_pointing imperiously_]

Go, clown. I can add the situation up myself. No, I think I want another word with you.

[_GWYMPLANE, unheeding, tries to pa.s.s her with DEA upon his arm._]

Fool, obey me, or embrace a peril that will choke you and your little friend of disobedience. Come, she shall await you in my private conservatory.

[_She makes a gesture as if to separate them._]

GWYMPLANE

I shall go with her.

d.u.c.h.eSS

Nay, suspect no more mousetraps. Lead her there yourself; see that she is comfortable among the candles and flowers, then return to me for your own interest and for hers.

[_GWYMPLANE leads DEA out door on left and returns._]

You have had a strange evening for a mountebank--an evening filled with such events as to strain almost any amount of discretion.

GWYMPLANE

I shall not talk.

d.u.c.h.eSS

Not of ourselves, of course. No man, not even a clown, but draws a veil across his rejected flesh.

GWYMPLANE

Well then?

d.u.c.h.eSS

But in that spiritual condition which follows being repudiated your muscles will probably be seeking, straining, to express your mind and the direction will probably be to avenge your blind girl.

GWYMPLANE

All that in my own way, Madame.

d.u.c.h.eSS

And your way will be? Come.

GWYMPLANE

Ah, Madame, I am weary of your commands. Over my actions you have a certain power, but, as my mind and what shall come out of it is still mysterious to me, I am afraid you must share the discomfort of my own ignorance.

d.u.c.h.eSS [_in a more kindly tone_]

Listen to me, clown. You were brought to me tonight to relieve me of a whim, I admit that. And you brought me no relief.

GWYMPLANE [_with sophistication_]

The question interests me dispa.s.sionately, Madame. But, considering you waived my personal defects [_he winces_], just why did I not--please you?

d.u.c.h.eSS