Plays: Comrades; Facing Death; Pariah; Easter - novelonlinefull.com
You’re read light novel Plays: Comrades; Facing Death; Pariah; Easter Part 20 online at NovelOnlineFull.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit NovelOnlineFull.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
[The maid enters from the orchard.]
MAID [To Axel]. There is it lady waiting for you.
AXEL. I'll soon be free.
BERTHA. Is that the new comrade?
AXEL. No, not comrade, but sweetheart.
BERTHA. And your wife to be?
AXEL, Perhaps. Because I want to meet, my comrades at the cafe, but at home I want a wife. [Starts as if to go.] Pardon me!
BERTHA. Farewell, then! Are we never to meet again?
AXEL. Yes, of course! But at the cafe. Good-bye!
CURTAIN.
FACING DEATH
CHARACTERS
MONSIEUR DURAND, a pension proprietor, formerly connected with the state railroad ADeLE, his daughter, twenty-seven ANNETTE, his daughter, twenty-four THeReSE, his daughter, twenty-four ANTONIO, a lieutenant in an Italian cavalry regiment in French Switzerland in the eighties PIERRE, an errand boy
[SCENE--A dining-room with a long table. Through the open door is seen, over the tops of churchyard cypress trees, Lake Leman, with the Savoy Alps and the French bathing-resort Evian. To left is a door to the kitchen. To right a door to inner rooms. Monsieur Durand stands in doorway looking over the lake with a pair of field gla.s.ses.]
ADeLE [Comes in from kitchen wearing ap.r.o.n and turned-up sleeves.
She carries a tray with coffee things]. Haven't you been for the coffee-bread, father?
DURAND. No, I sent Pierre. My chest has been bad for the last few drays, and it affects me to walk the steep hill.
ADeLE. Pierre again, eh? That costs three sous. Where are they to come from, with only one tourist in the house for over two months?
DURAND. That's true enough, but it seems to me Annette might get the bread.
ADeLE. That would ruin the credit of the house entirely, but you have never done anything else.
DURAND. Even you, Adele?
ADeLE. Even I am tired, though I have held out longest!
DURAND. Yes, you have, and you were still human when Therese and Annette cautioned me. You and I have pulled this house through since mother died. You have had to sit in the kitchen like Cinderella; I have had to take care of the service, the fires, sweep and clean, and do the errands. You are tired; how should it be with me, then?
ADeLE. But you mustn't be tired. You have three daughters who are unprovided for and whose dowry you have wasted.
DURAND [Listening without]. Doesn't it seem as if you heard the sound of clanging and rumbling down toward Cully? If fire has broken out they are lost, because the wind is going to blow soon, the lake tells me that.
ADeLE. Have you paid the fire insurance on our house?
DURAND. Yes, I have. Otherwise I would never have got that last mortgage.
ADeLE. How much is there left unmortgaged?
DURAND. A fifth of the fire insurance policy. But you know how property dropped in value when the railroad pa.s.sed our gates and went to the east instead.
ADeLE. So much the better.
DURAND [Sternly]. Adele! [Pause.] Will you put out the fire in the stove?
ADeLE. Impossible. I can't till the coffee-bread comes.
DURAND. Well, here it is.
[Pierre comes in with basket. Adele looks in the basket.]
ADeLE. No bread! But a bill--two, three--
PIERRE.--Well, the baker said he wouldn't send any more bread until he was paid. And then, when I was going by the butcher's and the grocer's, they shoved these bills at me. [Goes out.]
ADeLE. Oh, G.o.d in heaven, this is the end for us! But what's this?
[Opens a package.]
DURAND. Some candles that I bought for the ma.s.s for my dear little Rene.
Today is the anniversary of his death.
ADeLE. You can afford to buy such things!
DURAND. With my tips, yes. Don't you think it is humiliating to stretch out my hand whenever a traveller leaves us? Can't you grant me the only contentment I possess--let me enjoy my sorrow one time each year? To be able to live in memory of the most beautiful thing life ever gave me?
ADeLE. If he had only lived until mow, you'd see how beautiful he'd be!
DURAND. It's very possible that there's truth in your irony--as I remember him, however, he was not as you all are now.
ADeLE. Will you be good enough to receive Monsieur Antonio yourself?
He is coming now to have his coffee _without_ bread! Oh, if mother were only living! She always found a way when you stood helpless.
DURAND. Your mother had her good qualities.
ADeLE. Although you saw only her faults.