Act I

[In the park and castle of Kernoët, in Brittany]

First Scene

[Saint-Riveul and Fulgence]

FULGENCE [(from the top of the steps)]: Good morning, my lady.

SAINT-RIVEUL [(raising his head)]: Good morning, Comtesse.

FULGENGCE [(descending the steps and approaching)]: Why so solemn?

SAINT-RIVEUL [(pulling an Elzevir from his pocket)]: I was just getting advice from Voltaire on the best way to kill boredom. - But where are you going, so confident of victory?

FULGENCE [(pulling an identical Elzevir from his pocket)]: I long to be taught by Rousseau about the nature of solitude.

[mutual bow)]:

SAINT-RIVEUL: Two true philosophers. But I prefer something else. For now, I am compelled to hear your confession from your meaningful face and your enigmatic eyes.

FULGENCE: Fine, investigate; but I want equal measure for equal measure.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Like for like. Then let's start with you solving the mystery of why you have found this gloomy castle so appealing to stay in for a month now? What brought you to this owl's nest—you, the young, witty widow who saw dukes kneel at your feet, who could have the same from a king, were we not living in the year of salvation 1789, in which Louis XV's simplicity reigns over us? Second Scene Third Scene Fourth Scene

FULGENCE: I am here to see my friend, Lucile de Kernoët, again. We were raised together in the Ursuline convent. We left at the same time. She came here to her father, I got married.

We didn't hear from each other for a long time. Then one day the old Count of Kernoët died, and soon after that the Count of Frémeuse. Lucile invited me to visit her. At first I hesitated to come, but then I decided to go. And I really haven't regretted it, because not only was our old friendship renewed here, we also became much closer.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Didn't your arrival coincide with Lucile's brother coming home from America?

FULGENCE: I had no idea about that. And when I found out upon my arrival, I wanted to leave again after three days. I didn't want to disturb siblings who had been reunited after such a long time. Lucile forced me to stay. What a strange creature she is, this Lucile. One might think she lived in a strange world. She hardly sees what is going on around her, and she often has a wonderful intuition about things far away. I don't think her soul can be fathomed; it is protected by a heart that is locked in three ways. I really can't understand her, but I have to admire and love her.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Is that all that keeps you here?

FULGENCE: Yes, that is the secret you wanted to uncover.

SAINT-RIVEUL: No, no, Comtesse, that is certainly not all. What about Lucile's brother? He has been unrecognizable lately. Is he still the same man who made daring journeys, fought in the American War, and worked as a pioneer in Canada? He is much gloomier and more secretive than he used to be. Where are the old conversations about the wild forests? You hardly ever see him at mealtimes; he paces up and down the knight's room with heavy steps or goes hunting all alone. Today he hasn't shown himself at all. He has locked himself upstairs in the “tower” with his maps and books. Oh, Countess, where would one find the reason for this conspicuous melancholy, if it weren't for your skillful hand and clever mind? Are you not still swirling around in the head of the unfortunate Maurice? I know him, he becomes silent when he loves—but this time it will be serious.

FULGENCE [(smiling as she quietly fans herself)]: Are you not dreaming yourself? I have not noticed any of this, and in any case, I have nothing to do with it.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Your confession is not candid; I cannot absolve you. Wouldn't it be best if you married Maurice? His sister doesn't need him; she has inherited her rich mother's fortune. The Count of Kernoët has a distinguished name and is a capable man. What could become of him if you transformed the wild man into a courtier?

FULGENCE: Let us break it off; Fulgence of Frémeuse has learned from life to value freedom. She could only renounce it if she found her master. Fulgence has not yet found him. Now, my lord, courtier, gambler, and idler, who was better suited to the soirées of the Régence or the antechambers of Pompadour than to the times in which Mirabeau's words thunder against the nobility and the monarchy, what hidden and significant intention keeps you in this wildness?

SAINT-RIVEUL: I can make it short. I only need to say two words: I am here to marry Lucile.

FULGENCE: And that would be pure folly! You must be joking. There is probably no more kinship between her and you than between a Carmelite nun and the Duke of Richelieu.

SAINT-RIVEUL: I am a lost man. Louis XV's silly virtue gave me the order: Monsieur de Saint-Riveul, mend your ways, save your honor, marry a rich heiress, or I will send you into exile. Now, I don't want to go into exile, so I will marry Lucile.

FULGENCE: She will simply laugh at you... This dreamer is a proud and unapproachable soul.

SAINT-RIVEUL [(pulls a golden snuffbox from his pocket and takes a pinch between his fingers)]: Comtesse, do you know the depths of human nature so well?

FULGENCE: A little, yes.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Then perhaps one thing has not escaped your notice: [(He sniffs slowly and with pleasure.)]: human beings, whether men or women, are smarter than other animals, but also crazier. They have passions, they have their weak spots. Lie in wait and wait until you find those weak spots—and you will have them, whether man or woman, you will conquer them.

FULGENCE: You will never conquer Lucile.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Well, let's wait and see. Perhaps no longer than until tomorrow, to see how you love the count and Lucile becomes engaged to me.

FULGENCE: You must be out of your mind, Saint-Riveul.

SAINT-RIVEUL [(pointing to Cupid)]: Doesn't Voltaire say: No matter how high you hold your head, you will bow it before your master, who was, is, or will be.

[(Fulgence takes Saint-Riveul's arm with a laugh, and they exit right.)]:

[Lucile, her mother Angelika, soon followed by Ervoanik, Gaïd, and Ulliac]

MOTHER ANGELIKA: In accordance with ancient custom, I have given my blessing to the castle on the lady of the castle's name day, in memory of the great ancestor who founded the Ursuline convent. And now, my daughter, I will go to the chapel to pray. But first I want to entrust a sacred legacy to your protection.

LUCILE: It is like a gift from heaven to me.

[(She reverently accompanies the abbess to the chapel door; returning, she sits down in the carved Gothic armchair next to the oak table. Soon a group of children runs up with bouquets of broom and wildflowers and surrounds her with cries of joy.)]

The children: Long live the lady of the castle!

[(Behind the children walks Ervoanik, the shepherd, clad in rags. He is very old, with a rough, almost wild majesty. He leans on a long shepherd's crook with his right hand and on his daughter Gaïd's shoulder with his left. Behind him, at a certain distance, walks the sailor Ulliac, carrying a model ship as an ex-voto.)]

LUCILE [(seriously, speaking as if in a dream)]: I greet you, my friends. You, my children of the heath and the forest, you are the pride of my castle; you are also the guardians of your orphaned, lonely mistress. [(She leans her elbow on the back of the chair, then says with sudden liveliness)]: My faithful servants, what festive gifts do you bring me?

ERVOANIK [(bows his knees to the ground and hands her a sheaf)]: May God grant you long life, you my protective spirit, my gracious queen. Take this bouquet; it contains honeysuckle, wild rose, and fern. But look kindly upon the few stalks of green corn that I have added. If you accept them, God's blessing will rest upon the field that you have graciously assigned to me.

LUCILE [(takes the sheaf)]: Thank you, Ervoanik, your seed will become golden wheat.

ERVOAANIK (rises)]: What I am, I am through you, my mistress. I was just a poor, hungry shepherd who dreamed of old times and lived with his dog in a cave. Then you gave me a beautiful little reed hut and a piece of land. [They are] for me, you said. And now I am no longer a poor shepherd, I am allowed to pull the plow through the heath for you; ... yes, you said something else, that I myself should one day own a field—a really big field.

LUCILE: Ervoanik, you will surely have it one day.

ERVOANIK: It pleases the eye to see the grain in one's own field and hear the bells ringing from one's own land.

LUCILE: And you, Gaïd, my girl with eyes as blue and green as the wild sea—what have you brought me?

GAÏD [(kneels and places spun yarn on Lucile's knee)]: I spun this wool myself. May God grant you a long life and a loving husband.

LUCILE: Thank you, my child; you have worked well. Gain: All winter long. When the herd was in the stable, all we heard were Father's old stories—so we worked, because otherwise it was boring.

ERVOANIK: She prefers to be with the herd and sing cheerful songs; she doesn't really like it when her father makes her spin.

GAÏD: Yes, and the gracious lady said that if I work hard, she will give me a beautiful wedding veil. You know—the one you embroidered yourself—I've already seen it—yes, it's in your closet.

ERVOANIK: She's a little eccentric—don't talk so much, Gaïd.

LUCILE [(amused)]: You'll get the veil when you've found a husband.

GAÏD [(approaches, in a low voice)]: I already have one—only Father doesn't want me to marry him.

LUCILE: Give it a little more time. For now, work hard and obey your father. [(Gaïd gets up sulkily.)]: ... And you, Ulliac, what wonderful thing are you holding in your hand? And you look as serious as if you were carrying the ship's banner in a procession.

ULLIAC [(approaching)]: This is our Emerald, gracious lady, the ship that the gracious Lord Maurice had built and which took us on our journey to America and will take us there again. The Emerald, as it lives and breathes, gracious lady. Look, not even a bullet hole is missing; every yardarm and every sail is there. And do you know who carved it for you? I, Ulliac, did it. Don't you think it's dainty and skillfully made? Don't you? And it's not even heavy, the little thing, light as a bird.

LUCILE [(moved)]: And you're giving me this beautiful ship that could sail any sea? Then she offers her hand to the sailor to kiss and lets him stand up.)]: You have given me the most beautiful gift, Ulliac, I will never forget it. Ulliac [confidentially)]: When we travel to America again, you will come with us, won't you, gracious lady of the castle?

ULLIAC: You still ask if I am giving it to you. It has always belonged to you; I couldn't wait for the day when I could bring it to you. As we sailed out of Hudson Bay with our ship, an English cruiser came alarmingly close to us. It seemed as if our golden freedom would be over in an hour. Then I thought of my lord's sister, Miss Lucile... and I vowed that if we were saved, I would build a ship for our Lady of Kernoët... Then the wind of the Emerald turned with it and we were free. [(He bows one knee to the ground.)]: You must allow me, gracious lady, to fulfill my vow.

LUCILE [(still clutching the ship)]: Of course I'll come... (aside): With him across the sea!

GAÏD ([has crept up] to Ulliac [and whispers secretly to him]): Tonight... at the edge of the heath... by the ravine!

ULLIAC [(likewise)]: I'll be there.

ERVOANIK [(who has been watching the whole scene with jealous and suspicious eyes and has seen the heads of the shepherdess and the sailor drawing closer, intervenes)]: There must be no secrets between you. What would my child do with a sea-faring pauper? Gaïd should have a husband who owns land.

ULLIAC: Keep your manure by your hut—the whole sea belongs to me—and so does the shepherdess—as soon as I want her.

ERVOANIK [(raises his staff to strike him)]: You thief.

Lucie: My servants must get along. Stay calm, Ervoanik. Remember that land and sea need each other. Now bring your gifts to the chapel. Thank you all very much. May Gou bless you. [(She gives Ulliac back the ship.)]: Only your gift will receive my special protection. [(She sits down.)]

[(Ervoanik approaches the chapel gate, leaning on Gaïd's shoulder, who turns to give a sign to the sailor.)]:

ULLIAC [(pointing to the shepherd)]: He wants land. Someone like that... [(He enters the chapel.)]:

Lucile. Mother Angelica.

MOTHER ANGELIKA [(emerges from the chapel, holding an ivory box in her hands. She places it on the table in front of Lucile and stands motionless beside her.)]: Do you remember your mother, Lucile?

Lucie [(sitting)]: I only saw her once: she lived a lonely life in a convent; I was raised by a grumpy “aunt.” But even though I didn't know her, I loved my mother. When she died, I cried.

MOTHER ANGELIKA: She died in my arms. This box contains her picture and a letter for you. It contains her last words to her beloved daughter. She made me promise to give you the box as soon as you were ready for marriage. [(Lucile takes the box.)]: It contains your mother's secret and perhaps also that of your destiny.

LUCILE: My destiny, you say.

MOTHER ANGELICA: Lucile, you are now devoted to life and expectation; but your soul is too stormy and too hopeful to find satisfaction in earthly things; you will find it only in God.

LUCILE: How can you believe that I will ever leave my brother?

MOTHER ANGELICA: My dear child, this world is such that what we do not leave leaves us. I cannot think of the day when a fateful passion might seize your warm and lonely heart without seeing an abyss of suffering opening up before you. Seek the happiness that seems desirable to you, but do not forget that there is a place where you will find a remedy for all pain, forgiveness for all mistakes, where you can find refuge after all shipwrecks. If your path leads you to this place, my daughter, these arms will welcome you with love.

LUCILE [(casts an almost stern glance at the abbess, then bows her head and kisses her hand)]: Oh, how I thank you, Mother Angelica.

MOTHER ANGELICA: God be with you, farewell. [(She exits.)]:

[(Lucile sits down pensively and rests her head on her hand.)]:

Lucile. Maurice.

MAURICE [(seems to be looking for someone in the park; then approaches Lucile, who does not see him coming)]: Lucile, you seem so serious today!

LUCILE [(calmly looks up at him)]: You know, Maurice, my birthday always makes me sad.

MAURICE: Your birthday—today? How could I have forgotten?

LUCILE (aside): It's the first time...

MAURICE: Forgive me, my dear Lucile; I was completely absorbed in my work—my maps—the unknown seas... But I will bring holly and mistletoe to your room without delay.

LUCILE: Do so, dear Maurice. But first I would like to tell you something important.

MAURICE: Something important? What is it?

LUCILE: Something truly important. Last night, a dream transported me to the source of life; I saw myself in a vast sea of light, where the meaninglessness of life ends and our destiny is revealed in letters of fire. I no longer remember what the dream contained, but when I awoke, I felt strength and peace in my soul, and I had a clear vision of your future.

MAURICE: My future? I don't know anything about it myself, so how could you have seen it?

LUCILE: I can; I have a right to. Remember our youth. Did I not guess your thoughts before they were formed? Remember how we roamed the heath and, when day began to dawn, rushed away, following only the thirst of our hearts.

MAURICE [(sad)]: That's how it was. We sought the sea ...

LUCILE: Remember how we were seized with awe when we stood on the rocky cliff and saw the boundless sea stretching out before us for the first time. The storms of our youth began ... A single dream fulfilled our thirsty souls.

MAURICE [(rapt)]: We dreamed of America.

LUCILE: How we would one day unite free and noble people in the wild jungles, with bold courage and free hearts. Do you still remember?

MAURICE: Not anymore, Lucile, I feel numb from this memory.

LUCILE: But I want you to listen to me. Wasn't I also with you in spirit when you joyfully set sail for the New World without me, while I spent my days dreaming in the Ursuline convent? You were allowed to live alongside Washington, Rochambeau, Lafayette, the heroes who worked across the sea for a realm of freedom. I could only gaze out at the vast sea from the convent terrace.

MAURICE: You're right. I felt you by my side in the turmoil of battle; I heard the song of your soul in the silence of the nights.

LUCILE: You're going back— [(She grabs his arm in a sudden movement.)]: then with me.

MAURICE: I don't know yet if I'm going, Lucile.

LUCILE: You don't know? Have you forgotten what you set out to do? Fifth Scene

MAURICE: In later life, the dreams of youth often fade away.

LUCILE: They fade away for the weak. The capable carry them out. [(She points to the left coat of arms at the entrance gate of the castle.)]: Look at this coat of arms: a laurel tree with cut branches on a blood-red field; above it, the proud motto: “Through my wounds I become strong.” This is fitting for those who belong to the House of Kernoët. [(She points to the right coat of arms.)]: And the other shield, no less bold: a silver swan on a sky-blue field, spreading its wings to fly, pierced by an arrow, proclaims: “Dying, I let my song be heard.” This is my mother's coat of arms — and mine. Would it ever be possible for you to be unfaithful to these mottos? Do they not express the heroism of your ancestors and the longing of my heart; do they not express our hopes for our two souls preparing for the same flight? Yes, Maurice, you will go back to the New World, and I with you. Your Lucile does not desire a share of your glory and happiness; but let her share your suffering and your work with you... And when this is accomplished, I will rest in peace under a grassy mound with wild flowers in the darkness of a primeval forest. Then you will come there often and dream at Lucile's grave.

MAURICE [(frightened)]: You—die before me— [(with determination)]: oh certainly, when I leave, you will come with me.

LUCILE [(placing both hands on his shoulders)]: How happy it makes me to think of our dream coming true. But why [aren't you] happy, Maurice?

MAURICE [(suddenly turning away)]: That means nothing. But tell me, what is in the box?

LUCILE: The abbess brought it to me. It contains my mother's last will and testament.

MAURICE: My mother, who is such a mystery to me; she died in the convent; why was I never allowed to see her?

LUCILE: That's right, the abbess said that this box might hold my destiny.

MAURICE: Everything is so strange between us, almost supernatural, Lucile. We don't have the same mother. Your silent father didn't want you around. I was your only protector. Do you know that I often had to ask myself whether you really are my sister?

LUCILE [(frightened)]: If I weren't your sister, who would I be?

MAURICE: Who knows — but let's open the box. [(He puts his hand on the box.) ]::

LUCILE [(pushing him back with a sudden movement)]: No, not you. My mother's secret is mine. [(She pulls the key out of the box and takes a step toward the chapel.)]:

MAURICE: What do you want?

LUCILE: I feel compelled to pray. [(She enters the chapel.)]:

[Maurice sits down in the armchair and rests his head on his elbow. Fulgence comes quietly out of the alley, stops by Cupid and watches Maurice.]

FULGENCE [(who has approached)]: Count of Kernoët, how happy I am to find you here.

MAURICE [(standing up with a cool bow)]: Excuse me, madam, I didn't think you were here.

FULGENCE: Why so upset? Really, how changed the master of this house is. Where are our walks under the elm trees? Our horseback rides in the woods, where are the cheerful evening conversations?

MAURICE: I am distracted from everything else by a new travel plan. Work is no less a tyrant than love.

FULGENCE: You must love your American wilderness very much?

MAURICE: I love them; only there can one be a free and happy person. Here, one is a slave and unhappy under all circumstances.

FULGENCE: I find it so gratifying, this calm after the storm. How wonderful it was when you spoke of so many exciting things in the shade of the trees. I was all ears and hoped to hear so much more, and now you want to leave me... Count of Kernoët, why are you fleeing from me?

MAURICE [(with sudden vehemence)]: Oh, you know very well, you subtle and cruel woman. You know that I love you. Back then, during that wild ride, when your eyes spoke so much of the fire in your love-hungry heart, when you slipped out of the saddle and fell into my arms, you robbed me of my peace. I no longer know myself, I can no longer think about my plans; I can only think about you. I often tell myself that it is foolish for a rough world traveler, a warrior of the New World, a dreamer like me to want to bind a woman like you, who loves abundance and beauty, to himself—and yet something inside me keeps saying: You cannot live without her. No matter how often I remind myself that you are happy, admired, a widow, beautiful, that you have known love before; no matter how often I realize that I am jealous of your past, present, and future—my heart longs for you, it yearns passionately for the charming, capricious, tyrannical woman with the grace of both a queen and a fairy. This heart keeps saying: She may have loved Andre fleetingly, who was more witty, more sophisticated, more courtly educated; but he did not offer her a free soul and a whole life. But I offer you that. [(in a voice filled with fear)]: Tell me, Fulgence, do you love me?

FULGENCE [(bows her head over her fan)]: Count of Kernoët, I am fond of you and I appreciate your love, but you must allow me to test it first.

MAURICE: You may do so. This love can withstand any test.

FULGENCE: You are a proud and free spirit; so am I. Can such spirits find each other? May I love you? May I think of marrying you? You dream of your travels and victories in the New World; I love only my French homeland. Can you give up your American plans for me?

MAURICE (hesitantly): I will.

FULGENCE: You are the owner of an ancestral estate and you love it. Will you give up your Breton homeland for me and live with me in Paris and at court?

MAURICE (overcoming himself): I want that too.

FULGENCE: You have a very strange and very noble sister. I know her a little; she was my friend in the convent. She has great power over you, and, as they say, she holds the key to your soul. I am very jealous. If I marry you, I must have you all to myself. Can you separate yourself from Lucile for my sake?

MAURICE [(dismayed and embarrassed)]: Separate myself from Lucile? She is a part of me—our souls are as one. When we were children, I was already her protector. What would become of her if she didn't have me? Impossible.

FULGENCE: Count of Kernoët, your love cannot pass the test.

MAURICE: How do I understand that? Sixth Scene

FULGENCE: You love Lucile more than me.

MAURICE: But those are completely different feelings; they don't interfere with each other.

FULGENCE: It is enough for me that you have shown me which is stronger.

MAURICE: Can't you see how much I love you? But, I beg you, don't think you can shake my brotherly love for Lucile—it is as solid as a rock in the waves of the sea. They may surround him, but they cannot shake him.

FULGENCE: Count of Kernoët, the test is over. You do not love me.

MAURICE: Listen, I beg you.

FULGENCE: Do not bother; I no longer love you. [She climbs the steps of the staircase and turns around once more.] How he resisted me. I have never encountered such a thing from a man before.

Maurice, Lucile.

LUCILE [(steps out of the chapel and approaches her brother, who stands frozen in place)]: Maurice, what's wrong with you?

MAURICE: The incurable suffering.

LUCILE: What suffering?

MAURICE: Oh, Morgane is back.

LUCILE: Morgane? Morgane? That word rises from the dark depths of my soul. Like a shining flower from murky waters. What does it remind me of?

MAURICE: Remember how we visited a spring one day, and how you were overcome by a strange sleep at the same spring. You only awoke when I touched your eyelids with my lips. The shepherd Ervoanik claims that the spring is cursed, that it is inhabited by the fairy Morgane, who is so beautiful that she kills anyone who sees her. At the time, you believed the old man's fairy tales and never wanted to go back there.

LUCILE: I really never saw the enchanted spring again.

MAURICE: However, when I heard the name Morgane, my young, stormy blood began to boil. The fairy Morgane lived on in my imagination; in the image I created of her, I saw all her enchanting charms and supreme beauty. She hovered above the treetops for me; I heard her in the rolling thunder; in the lightning, I felt the fire of her kisses. Wasn't that foolish? How often did I call out for my enchanting fairy while awake, how many tears did I cry for her at night. When I told you about my foolishness, you laughed at first, but then you became jealous of Morgane.

LUCILE: Yes, truly, that's how it was.

MAURICE: Then came the time when Morgane slipped my mind. My time as a soldier, the sea, America gave me other things to think about. And today she is back. But now she is no longer a figment of my imagination; no, she has taken the form of a living woman who captivates me as much as the other one and who is killing me.

LUCILE: A woman? Who? Seventh Scene

MAURICE: Fulgence, your friend.

LUCILE [(dazed)]: Fulgence!

MAURICE: It's her. At first I almost hated her. Then I saw the devotion hidden beneath her pride, the tenderness hidden beneath her mockery. She is truly more dangerous than Morgane. I love her. But she doesn't love me. She just told me so. My dear Lucile, you are her friend, you work miracles like a saint, you can influence others with your strong will. Make Fulgence love me. Use persuasion, flattery, threats, whatever you like—but make her mine, I must have her. Oh, do it... otherwise I will go mad or die. Will you talk to her?

LUCILE [(who has been staring into space with fixed eyes as if

fascinated by a conflagration, turns her head toward her

brother, reaches out her hand to him, and says in a gentle voice)]: I want it.

[Lucile, soon after Fulgence, then Maurice.]

LUCILE [(has sunk into the armchair as if devastated)]: It had to happen eventually... Fulgence or someone else... And for me, it's the convent.

[(Fulgence comes down the steps; she sees Lucile and turns away. Her gait is feverish, her movements hasty; she crumples her fan and sits down on the marble bench next to Cupid.)]:

LUCILE [(stepping toward her)]: Fulgence, don't you think it would be wonderful to love in the peace of a castle like this?

FULGENCE: What makes you think that?

LUCILE: Doesn't everything here invite love? The mystery of nature and also of the past! In this solitude, one feels as if in a deep forest where love could live like a wonderful magical creature. You will think back on this lonely castle in Paris! What is Versailles compared to the shadow of this castle!

FULGENCE: I cannot love this castle, one is surrounded everywhere by ghosts of the past... besides, your brother is pursuing me.

LUCILE: Come on, he loves you.

FULGENCE: I don't believe that.

LUCILE: It's true, Fulgence.

FULGENCE (standing up)]: Not long ago, he defied me haughtily. No man has ever treated me that way before. I hate him.

LUCILE: So—you do love him after all.

FULGENCE [(with a nervous laugh)]: You're mocking me! Very well, I can leave tomorrow. [(Lucile wraps her arms around Fulgence and looks at her intently.) ]: Oh, your coldness, Lucile, truly like a statue.

LUCILE: You really must listen to me, Fulgence. Remember that my brother's life is in your hands. He loves you boundlessly. This love will kill him if you do not become his wife. And... I want you to love him.

FULGENCE: Oh... I feel her again, the sibyl in the convent... how often they forced me down, those big black eyes... me, who thought I was invincible... But now you will not succeed. I have become stronger.

LUCILE: I don't want to force anything; just bring out what is already in your soul. [(with gentle teasing)]: I used to read your eyes often. Let me do it again... Yes, truly, I see anger, my countess, but behind the dark mist—what do I see—the little god who smiles—and pouts. Shouldn't this mean something after all—!

FULGENCE [(freeing himself)]: If that were so, I would have to be angry with you. Should I become a slave? I want to keep my freedom. I want to leave.

LUCILE: Fulgence, don't you understand what one great love means compared to many small ones? I will tell you.

FULGENCE: So you know her?

LUCILE: It's as if I've always known it and as if my life were one with it.

FULGENCE: So what is it?

LUCILE: Losing yourself in your beloved.

FULGENCE: That is—destroying yourself?

LUCILE: Oh no, it is truly finding oneself. Living only within oneself is death.

FULGENCE: For me, love would have to be something else. The other would have to lose himself in me, and my dominion over him would be without limits.

LUCILE: If you love Maurice, you will rule over his soul, even if he is the master of your life.

FULGENCE: Wouldn't you be afraid if I were serious and carried out what you want to instigate?

LUCILE: Oh, no.

FULGENCE: Remember what you said in the convent. You said that I hold the key to his soul and that I will be its mistress for all eternity.

LUCILE: That is in the past.

FULGENCE: Lucile, is that what they call “great love”?

LUCILE [(looking into her eyes with gentle solemnity)]: It is the love with which sisters can love each other.

FULGENCE [(kissing her)]: You are quite excited. So there would be a fiery soul in the statue?

LUCILE: There—Maurice.

[(Fulgence steps away from her awkwardly and picks roses from the hedge.)]:

MAURICE [(to Lucile)]: Did you achieve anything?

LUCILE: She still denies it—but I assure you, she loves you.

MAURICE: Lucile, how can I thank you, my dear? Eighth Scene

LUCILE. Lucie: You belong to her now.

MAURICE [(to Fulgence)]: Won't you come with me into the garden, Countess?

FULGENCE: I'd be delighted.

MAURICE [(pointing to the roses she is holding)]: And these roses, are they for me?

FULGENCE: If you prove yourself worthy of them.

Lucile, alone, then Saint-Riveul.

LUCILE [(alone, she sits down)]:; So be it. It means his happiness... the box... [(She opens the shrine on the table and pulls out a miniature picture.)]: A picture! My mother, yes, that's how she was. A wistful magic in this soul. ... [(She pulls a sealed letter from the shrine.)]: A letter with my mother's seal. [(reading the address)]: To Lucile “of Kernoët.” ... Why am I afraid ... it's as if I were breaking the seal on my destiny. [(She opens it and reads.)]: "My beloved Lucile!

I have only a few days left to live, and you will be my last thought on this earth. I had vowed never to reveal to you the secret of your birth and your mother's guilt; but my weak soul cannot bear the weight of this secret; it needs your forgiveness, which your pure soul will surely grant me after my death. You should know that your mother committed a great sin. You are not the daughter of the Count of Kernoët, but of a guest of our house who became fatal to my heart, the Lord of Trévern. You were not yet born when the Count discovered my transgression. He killed Lord Trévern in a duel, and with the king's permission, he locked me up in the Ursuline convent. He took his revenge by separating you from me. For fifteen years, I did penance for my sin in the convent. Only once, as you well know, was I allowed to see you, when you were a very little girl. The faithful shepherd brought you to me. I saw your heavenly soul in your eyes. It stayed with me. The thought of your gaze and your embrace was the consolation of ten lonely years. You are the fruit of my sin, but also the angel of my penance. Forgive me and pray for the soul of your mother, who loves you and blesses you."

Oh, this revelation. ... Maurice is the child of the first marriage ... we do not have the same mother ... and his father is not my father either. He is not my brother ... I am not his sister. [(in a low voice)]: Different blood runs in our veins. We could have loved each other differently. [(loudly)]: Oh, why did I break this seal? What confused thoughts are rising up in me!

[(A soft and melancholy melody can be heard in the distance.)]:

... The shepherd plays the bagpipes on the heath ... Why do these sounds make my heart ache? ... I (smiling painfully)]: Oh, the same ones as when Maurice and I lay in the broom, in the moonlight on a summer night. Then it rejoiced, the boundless future before our souls. Is she now lamenting the lost past? ... Maurice and Fulgence must be nearby ... [(She approaches the rose hedge and looks through the branches.)]: Yes, there they go, completely lost in each other ... forgetting everything else ... but now they stop ... she bows her head toward him ... their gazes lose themselves in each other ... [(She turns abruptly and returns excitedly to the front of the stage.)]: What is coming over me; I brought about this love. Don't I deserve such happiness? Am I destined for loneliness? [(Dusk falls. Saint-Riveul appears in the background and sneaks around Lucile in the distance. She takes her mother's picture and covers it with kisses.)]: Mother, give me advice!

[(Saint-Riveul, who has gradually approached from behind, takes Lucile's hand and kisses it.)]:

LUCILE [(lets out a cry, hides the picture in the folds of her lace shawl, and looks at Saint-Riveul in horror)]: Why are you here?

SAINT-RIVEUL: So you despise me, my dear lady! You distrust me, you don't want to confide your secrets to me? Do you think I would betray them, I, Saint-Riveul, the friend of your late father? You insult me—you are cruel. You were looking at a picture of a friend, weren't you? Does he have blond curls, is he a guard officer with a brown mustache? You can tell me.

LUCILE [(has been listening with her arms crossed, as if to hide her treasure)]: What are you doing? [(With a gesture of impatience, she takes the picture from the folds of her lace handkerchief and shows it to him.)]: I am holding a picture of my mother. Blush before this saint.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Truly. Very similar, gracious lady. She was very beautiful and very seductive, this—Madame de Trévern.

LUCILE [(startled)]: Madame de Trévern. What gives you the right to call my mother that?

SAINT-RIVEUL [(pretending he made a mistake)]: Oh, please forgive me, gracious lady, it was a mistake—I mean Madame de Kernoët.

LUCILE: You know...

SAINT-RIVEUL: I know everything. Your father couldn't get over it. The poor man.

LUCILE: He took his revenge... He tore me and my mother apart; she is dead and my heart is bewildered.

SAINT-RIVEUL: We can think of other things that we remember with more joy. It reminds me of when I first came to this castle years ago. The Count of Kernoët wanted us to marry. You were barely fifteen years old; I courted you. One day we met an old gypsy woman who predicted that we would become husband and wife. When I asked you joyfully, “Will you, Lucile?”, a flush of anger rose to your cheeks. I liked that. In an instant, the shy girl had become a lady who was beautiful in her anger.

LUCILE [(distracted)]:; Was it like that? I had forgotten. [(She looks back at the picture of her mother.)]:

SAINT-RIVEUL: I have thought about it all the more often. Since that moment, I have loved you, Lucile, and now I ask you again: Will you be my wife?

LUCILE [(shrugs her shoulders as if lost in other thoughts)]: I don't love you. You know that.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Get to know me first, then you will love me. But apart from that, you can't stay alone; Maurice is in love with Fulgence, he will marry her.

[(Lucile hastily hides the picture in her bosom.)]:

What do you want to do here, in this dreadful solitude? If you have me, you will have a brilliant life, Paris, the court, high society.

LUCILE: I value this life little and reject it. I have dreamed of another, one of seriousness and peace, at my brother's side, here in the house of our ancestors, or one of unlimited freedom, over in America. ... [(with gentle exaltation)]: Maurice was basically my world. His soul will always belong to me, he will not be able to snatch it away from me ... [(with sudden and passionate excitement)]: Nevertheless, Fulgence is snatching it away from me ... and I have given it to her myself! Now I will no longer be able to protect him! She is jealous of my sisterly love and of my power.

SAINT-RIVEUL [(observing Lucile, with malicious glee)]: They are not blood relatives ... No blood relative loves like that ... so passionately ... That's where I'll get her, that's where I can get to her ...

LUCILE [(with a fixed stare)]: But... The only option left is the convent.

SAINT-RIVEUL (leaning toward her ear)]: If you marry me, we will be with Maurice wherever you want.

LUCILE [(with joyful trembling)]: Promise me?

SAINT-RIVEUL Not only that. Consider that when you are my wife, Fulgence will no longer be jealous of you. You will no longer be Maurice's sister to her, but the wife of Saint-Riveul and a lady of the world. She will live with the idea that you belong to me or to someone else. I now know Fulgence de Frémuse well enough to know that it will fuel her ambition and her desire to dominate if Maurice surrenders himself completely to her. Then she will turn the American warrior into a figure of society, but deep down she is capricious and passionate. Maurice can control her if he knows how. You, who know him, will be able to help him with your advice. Otherwise, he will sink deeper and deeper into the shameful dependence of love; he will surrender the keys to his soul to this woman and ultimately lay his proud head at her feet.

LUCILE [(frightened)]: Would that be possible? When I consider that he only found himself in me. And how I tried to help him gain self-confidence! Ninth Scene

SAINT-RIVEUL: Who will continue to help him?

LUCILE: No one.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Don't you see that you alone can save him? Give me your promise.

LUCILE [(as if returning to reality]: No. I can't. [(She sits down and covers her face with her hands for a moment. Aside)]: How difficult this will be for me! To leave Maurice... or to give myself to this man.

SAINT-RIVEUL [(watching her closely)]: Consider that the convent will take Maurice away from you forever, and I am giving him to you.

[(has taken a few steps back and returns)]:

Here comes the happy couple, love in their hearts, joy on their faces. Do you give me your consent? Lucite [(rising, in a dull voice)]: I do. [(She gives her hand to Saint-Riveul, who grasps it firmly.)]:.

The same. Fulgence, on Maurice's arm

FULGENCE [(beaming)]: Lucile, you were right; one great love is better than many small ones. You have shaken me, your brother has converted me. There stands my lord and master. Look at me; I am a different person. And look at him; he too is a different person. Isn't he beaming with joy?

[(Lucile stands silently with her head bowed.)]:

SAINT-RIVEUL [(quietly to Lucile)]: Are you silent? Shall I announce our engagement?

LUCILE [(motionless)]: Yes.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Count of Kernoöt and Countess of Frömeuse, I wish you happiness with all my heart; I wish it all the more because I am now entitled to share in this happiness in a different way than before. This is a day of surprises and happy couples. We form a four-leaf clover. [(He takes Lucile's hand, and she lets him without raising her head.)]: Mademoiselle de Kernoût has just promised her hand to Monsieur de Saint-Riveul, who lays his life at her feet.

MAURICE [(dismayed, lets go of Fulgence's arm and takes a step closer)]: What? Engaged without asking me? Lucile, you are silent. Is it true?

LUCILE [(suddenly looks sternly into his face)]: True.

MAURICE [(takes her hand and pulls her aside, near the chapel)]: And you love this man?

LUCILE: Why shouldn't I; don't you love this woman?

MAURICE: Yes, you, my Lucile, I thought you were unapproachable.

LUCILE: So you want me to enter a convent?

MAURICE: God forbid. But when I see you on Saint-Riveul's arm, I feel my sacred youth and my divine dream crumbling.

LUCILE: Truly. It could also have collapsed within you... But it will not die in one place... not in its sanctuary. [(She places her hand on her heart.)]:

MAURICE: Do you promise me this?

LUCILE: I promise you that, Maurice.

MAURICE: Angel of heaven, but what dark secret are you hiding from me?

LUCILE: Let it be enough. Do not try to explore it. I do not know it myself. I only know that this secret is a terrible and sublime power that will intervene in our lives.

MAURICE: You frighten me. You resemble a crowned druidess, armed with a sickle, going with her head held high to a bloody sacrifice. Who are you?

LUCILE: The guardian of your soul.

MAURICE [(suddenly cheerful again)]: Yes, that's who you are. Didn't you give me Fulgence? So I'll give you Saint-Riveul, since you love him.

LUCILE [(suddenly seizing Saint-Riveul's arm)]: Come here, children, bring out the bagpipes! Let joy reign. Let us be merry. There shall be dancing all night long on my [birthday].

[(The chapel door opens, revealing the interior lit by burning candles. A group of children rushes out, waving broom branches, surrounding Saint-Riveul and Lucile with shouts of joy. - Ervoanik, Gaïd, and Ulliac kneel, offering bouquets, the bagpipes play a frenetic dance tune, and the curtain falls to the roaring cry:)]

ERVOANIK, GAÏD, ULLIAC, THE CHILDREN: Long live the lady of the castle!

(Curtain):