Act II

A boudoir belonging to the Duchess of Paris, in the Faubourg St. Germain. White stucco panels. In the background, an open door; on the left, a window and a closed door, above which hangs a mythological painting. A desk, next to it an armchair. On the right, a fireplace with a mirror and a pendulum clock in the shape of a lyre, on which Cupid shows the time: next to it, a chaise longue.

First scene

Fulgence: in street clothes, sitting next to the desk; Lucile in a light blue dress, a rose at her waist, reclining on the chaise longue; she is engrossed in a book. Monsieur de Kéralio and Monsieur de Marigny enter from the background, with the Countess and the Baroness on their arms; later Ulliac.

THE COUNTESS (on Kéralio's arm): What is this contredanse called?

KÉRALIO: The Broken Axles.

COUNTESS: Excellent.

THE BARONESS (on Marigny's arm): And the other one?

MARIGNY: The Festival of Paphos.

BARONESS: Heavenly.

KÉRALIO: And now to the battle. But first, shall we ask the ladies to pin the white cockades on us?

(The Countess and the Baroness take large white cockades out of their bags and attach them to the gentlemen's hats, which are decorated with feathers.):

KÉRALIO: Thank you very much, beautiful lady. With this, I will put the scheming patriots to flight.

MARIGNY: And I will defeat the loudmouthed sans-culottes.

(Noise in the street): Second Scene

THE BARONESS (startled): What is it?

ULLIAC (in a sailor's suit, from the background): A sergeant from the Royal-Allemand is here. The Prince of Lambese sends word to the Count and the Baron that he is expecting them at the barracks. The troops must march out... (He rubs his hands.): This is going to be good!

MARIGNY: We will come.

(Ulliac exits.):

(Noise in the street. To the Bastille, to the Bastille! The Baroness clings fearfully to the Countess.)

THE COUNTESS: Don't be afraid!

KÉRALIO: Fear, when you are here?

MARIGNY: Fear; we are only changing the dance floor.

THE BARONESS (stops trembling and laughs loudly): You are delightful!

KÉRALIO: And now the ribbons on the swords.

THE COUNTESS: Yes, the ribbons we embroidered. (She pulls a ribbon out of her bag.): Mine is gold.

THE BARONESS (does the same): Mine is red.

(Kéralio and Marigny hand over their swords.):

KÉRALIO (to the Countess): Truly as brilliant as your eyelashes.

MARIGNY (to the Baroness): Mine is red like your lips.

THE COUNTESS (attaches the ribbon to Kéralios' sword): Goodbye, you good-for-nothing.

THE BARONESS (after attaching hers to Marigny's sword): Farewell, and don't be long.

(KÉRALIO and Marigny exit.):

THE BARONESS: No matter how hard I try to compose myself, I tremble like a leaf. Could it be that they will perish?

THE COUNTESS: Don't think that. God takes care of the carefree.

THE BARONESS: These are sad times. Farewell, games of love!

THE COUNTESS: On the contrary, they are just beginning.

THE BARONESS: Then long live the revolution!

(They exit laughing into the background.):

Fulgence, Lucile, later Ulliac.

FULGENCE (rising impatiently): Do you understand these fools? They are dancing on a volcano.

LUCILE: Happy are those who have blindfolds over their eyes and cannot see the storm approaching.

(Ulliac enters.):

FULGENCE: What news do you bring?

ULLIAC: Nothing good, Countess. The people have seized the weapons from the Invalides. Twenty-four thousand muskets glisten in the sunshine and roll through Paris like a stream of iron. I saw a blacksmith in a black apron forging pikes, sparks flying and the anvil almost splitting in two. From now on, everyone will forge their own thunder. The storm bell is ringing and the whole city is crying: To arms!

FULGENCE: What do they want!

ULLIAC: Madam, they are hungry, and they want freedom.

FULGENCE: Where is Monsieur de Saint-Riveul?

ULLIAC: In Versailles, to receive the queen's orders. But there's no way of knowing if he'll be able to return. All the streets are full of soldiers and there are burning barricades everywhere.

FULGENCE: And the Count of Kernoët?

ULLIAC: He said he wanted to go to the Bastille and see everything for himself.

FULGENCE: To the Bastille. They'll kill him there!

LUCILE: Calm down. He has protection. I can feel it. They won't touch a hair on his head.

FULGENCE (to Ulliac): Did you see him leave?

ULLIAC: Yes, madam, he left with the duchess.

FULGENCE (to himself): Always with the duchess (to Ulliac): See where the count has gone.

(Ulliac leaves.)

FULGENCE: What do you say to that?

LUCILE: Nothing. The voice of fate will soon resound terribly throughout the world. I will wait for the voice of God, who speaks within people. Until then, I will remain silent.

FULGENCE (sitting down next to her): Lucile, I have neither your strength nor your calm. I often lose my head or am beside myself, or frozen with fear. France is in turmoil, the throne is shaking; our lives are in danger. But believe me, that is not what worries me most. In the confusion that arises, everything changes, close relatives, friends, they change. Everything is as if possessed by unknown spirits. I have never seen Maurice or Saint-Riveul like this before, and you too, even you! What must I observe? Sometimes I think there is a flash of lightning hidden in your silence... Lucile, what is going on inside you?

LUCILE: Inside me? I am always the same and do not know what you mean.

FULGENCE: A month ago, I returned with Maurice from Kernoët to meet you and the duchess here. We have been living together for a whole month, and you have not found a moment to open your heart to me. I left a friend and found a stranger. It seems as if you want to avoid Maurice and me. Don't you remember that he is your brother and I am your best friend?

LUCILE: You belong entirely to the splendor of Versailles. I cannot follow you there. It is not to my taste.

FULGENCE: Unfortunately, Maurice is not popular there, and it is his own fault. But you seem to me to be even more estranged from your husband than from me. How do you feel about Saint-Riveul? Please, tell me the truth.

LUCILE: I may seem strange to you, perhaps degenerate, but I feel myself to be merely the instrument of a fate that I did not choose for myself and whose ultimate meaning is unknown to me. I have never loved Saint-Riveul.

FULGENCE: Yes, then why did you marry him? One might expect this of another, but from you it is outrageous!

LUCILE: I knew that I would never love a man. My dream of love is too vast and too lofty for this world. I thought of the convent to realize it; but the convent seemed like a tomb to me. I wanted to get to know the world and life; SaintRiveul offered himself to me, and I married him. On the day of our engagement, we promised each other mutual and unconditional freedom. I left him all the fortune which came from my mother; he renounced all marital rights. The day after our wedding, we left Kernoät and went to Paris. For a whole month, he lived his life in Paris as he loved to do; sometimes involved in the intrigues of the Oeil de Baeuf, sometimes in the orgies of the Palais-Royal. But I soon noticed that he not only wanted my fortune as a means to pursue the life he desired, but that he also wanted to make me a tool for his ambition. I refused him, which angered him, and my contempt inflamed vague passions in him; he wanted to dishonor me in order to get me under his control. When he burst into my room yesterday like a wild animal, you see, my little dagger protected me, and he fled from it. Fulgence, I know the world now. .. but it also knows me ... [(She pulls out a small dagger that was hidden under the rose.)]

FULGENCE: What have you done? I know Saint-Riveul. Your resistance will turn what may have been a whim into wild passion. Then he will be capable of anything.

LUCILE: He has no more power over me than iron has over diamond. The virgin will is as unbreakable as it is transparent. It is made of crystallized fire.

FULGENCE: Then keep death always before your eyes.

LUCILE: I do not fear it; my hopes died before it did.

FULGENCE: You are terrible in your hatred, Lucile: how gentle you would be if you truly loved!

LUCILE (standing up quickly): That is not possible. God did not want it.

FULGENCE: Why not? Have you never felt that excitement that goes through the whole person to the depths of the burning heart? LuciLE (interrupting her): Let's talk about Maurice, whom you love! Don't you have any secrets to tell me? There are storm clouds between you. What happened? Confide in your sister.

(They sit down next to the desk.):

FULGENCE: A brief paradise; then hell; and who knows what else may come. (Proudly, then triumphantly): Our honeymoon in Kernoöt after your departure was a rush of happiness. Maurice was completely absorbed in me, as no man has ever been in a woman. I was the true queen of his heart. We never let each other out of our sight, wandering through fields and forests in the morning, in the shade of the park in the evening. We belonged entirely to each other.

LUCILE: And now?

FULGENCE (restless and agitated): Since we've been in Paris, everything has changed. Suddenly, it's as if we were separated by a veil! I introduced him to the queen and expected him to become captain of the royal guard. What did he do? In front of Marie Antoinette, he praised Mirabeau and the National Assembly, so that the good queen asked him with her head thrown back: “Do you count yourself among the estates or the nobility, Count of Kernoët?” Maurice did not answer, but he never set foot in the Palace of Versailles again, and he now only keeps company with our enemies. The career I dreamed of is no longer possible. Since then, there has been war between us.

LUCILE: And why is that?

FULGENCE: You don't guess? The duchess!

LUCILE: What?

FULGENCE: Yes, the duchess, the friend who was supposed to bring Maurice close to the queen, this duchess who had promised to ensure our fame and happiness, she has snatched Maurice away from me, she has betrayed me!

LUCILE: Maurice, betrayed after two months of marriage? Your passion is clouding your judgment.

It is not a woman who is driving you apart; it is your different ways of looking at life.

FULGENCE: I know what I am saying. I have eyes, I have ears.

LUCILE: And where is the proof?

FULGENCE: On the day of the performance, in Versailles, at a night festival, invisible musicians played a minuet in the Orangery (At this moment, the violins play the minuet behind the scene — Fulgence trembles.): - This minuet. - The queen had just passed by with the princesses, adorned with white feathers like birds of paradise. Then the duchess arrived on Maurice's arm. I could see everything from behind an arbor. They walked slowly in the darkness. She whispered a few words in his ear. It was about an escape.

LUCILE: The king's escape, no doubt.

FULGENCE: No, hers. I read it in her face; I heard it in her trembling voice.

LUCILE: You're imagining things, my dear; I know Maurice. He certainly doesn't love the duchess.

(The violin music stops.)

FULGENCE: You think so? Then listen further. One evening, as I was returning home from a visit, I saw Maurice in a narrow alleyway, arm in arm with a woman. The light from a lantern made them visible to me.

LUCILE (uneasy): Are you sure you saw correctly?

FULGENCE: She was masked and wore [a] black domino.

LUCILE (frightened, to herself): That was me! Third Scene Paris, which mocks everything, respects masked pleasure. I know that, which is why I behave this way. But you are right. Times have changed. What will become of the king if the Bastille is conquered?

FULGENCE: That's how the duchess likes to dress up. Are you convinced now?

LUCILE (frightened): I don't know... you're mistaken... I assure you.

(Maurice and the duchess enter.):

FULGENCE: Look, there they are in the same disguise! Do you still dare to say that I was mistaken?

The same characters. Maurice, the Duchess in a black domino. She wears a mask in the style of the Regency period; black satin with a white mouth.

THE DUCHESS (hastily removes her mask and domino, throws them into an armchair; she is wearing a white satin dress with white feathers and diamonds in her hair): I'm suffocating under this mask. I almost died of fright. Fulgence, what an experience! I wanted to bring the queen's orders to Lambese. But I hadn't counted on this wild horde... Men in rags, with stolen cartridge pouches, strange helmets on their heads, blocked my way. They wielded sabers, hammers, and pikes. Insults. A roar like wild animals. Women from the people, the wild women of the halls, threw themselves at me, grabbed me with their hands, which were harder than tongs. They shouted: Look at the Austrian spy! I would have been lost if your husband had not saved my life.

FULGENCE [dryly and bitterly): You are incomprehensible to me, Duchess. You expose yourself to mortal danger for no reason and you carry out the Queen's orders poorly. How can you go out on the street in a carnival costume at a time like this? It is foolish in these times.

THE DUCHESS (with majesty): Countess, I tell you, in my life devoted entirely to the service of the king and queen, I have gotten everywhere in this disguise. In clubs, salons, in the Palais Royal. Everywhere I found decent hospitality and polite smiles.

MAURICE: Madam, a king is powerful when he compels people to love him because he works for their good. If Saint Louis or Henry IV were alive today, they would raze the Bastille to the ground. Then the grateful people would erect statues on the site of the fortress. Those were real kings. But this Louis XVI, he knows neither how to fight nor how to retreat. If he takes a threatening step forward, he immediately follows it with one backward. Today, Mirabeau is a king. He is a real man who feels the heartbeat of the people. His lion's voice shakes the Bastille with its power. Fourth Scene

THE DUCHESS: And the poor noble queen. I will never forget her look when we parted. Still proud in her fear. Courage that shone through her tears. Go to Paris, she said to me, my dear friend, but spare your life. It is up to queens to sacrifice theirs when required! I fear all is lost. (She presses the handkerchief to her eyes to dry her tears, then quickly removes it. ): Monsieur de Kernoët, do not abandon us in our hour of need!

MAURICE: Stay calm, madam, I will guard you.

THE DUCHESS: I will go to Versailles today.

(She rings the bell, Ulliac enters.):

FULGENCE [ (taking Ulliac aside):]: Prepare everything, my dear, we are traveling to Brittany today.

(The Duchess exits with Lucile.):

ULLIAC (to himself): I truly believe they don't know where their heads are; the storm has turned them upside down. If only they had been at sea once. (He exits.):

Fulgence, Maurice

FULGENCE (approaching him): Maurice, do you still love me?

MAURICE: Why do you ask? Isn't it obvious?

FULGENCE: Well then, prove it to me by leaving with me for Brittany in an hour.

MAURICE: What do you mean?

FULGENCE: Paris is unbearable.

MAURICE: And Versailles?

FULGENCE: Even less so.

MAURICE: I thought you loved Versailles?

FULGENCE: Not now.

MAURICE: You are as capricious as the sea, madam, but I am as stubborn as a Breton.

FULGENCE: Think about what you are doing, Count; do not defy Fulgence de Frémuse this time. Will you come with me?

MAURICE: I am sorry, madam, leave if you wish; but I will not leave Paris before the end of the battle.

FULGENCE: Oh, is that how it is?

MAURICE: Yes, that is how it is. And you yourself wanted it that way. Would I have left Kernoët without you? My thoughts were focused solely on great journeys, on battles beyond the sea in free lands. They dreamed of honors, of the court, of splendid festivities. You dragged me to Versailles and wanted to see me in the royal guard. The king and queen did not recognize me as one of their own, and perhaps they were right. But to leave Paris on the day when the fate of the people is to be decided in a fierce battle... Never! It was your fault for bringing me here; but at this hour, when every minute is the mother of centuries, you will not prevent me from witnessing this minute and acting as my conscience dictates. You have thrown me into the storm, I will remain in it.

FULGENCE (looking him in the eyes): Maurice, I beg you, make this sacrifice for my love.

MAURICE: True love does not enslave, it liberates.

FULGENCE [ (observing)]: Ah, now I know you. Betraying your king, your honor, your wife! You speak of the people, of conscience, of freedom? You love the duchess; it is for her sake that you want to be here.

MAURICE (astonished): The duchess! Can you really believe such folly?

FULGENCE: I know everything. You agreed to meet in a way that seems harmless. It suited you to take your beloved in your arms in front of the crowd in order to defend her. (She points to the duchess's domino.): Oh, that disguise. - Now I know... Your words meant that you would both flee tonight. Is that so?

MAURICE: Fulgence, your injustice outrages me. Try to calm down and see the truth.

FULGENCE: No, nothing can calm me down. Everything I see, everything you say, strengthens my conviction. There is still time, Maurice... It's about our fate, my life, your life... Will you come with me? Fifth Scene

MAURICE (looking at her and shrugging his shoulders): I truly believe you are right. It would be more worthy of me to love the duchess. She taught me to be brave by risking her life for the queen; but you, you preach escape to me.

FULGENCE: Enough. It is base to insult me in this way. I will never forgive you for this. Woe betide you for not believing in my love; may you be spared the hatred of your Fulgence... Farewell.

(She exits through the door on the left. Maurice sits down pensively.)

Maurice, Lucile, who comes from the background, sits down on the chaise longue and resumes her reading, as if she did not notice Maurice.

MAURICE (rises and approaches her): Still immersed in your books?

LUCILE (raises her head, smiles): I have given up. God can only meet me in you now.

MAURICE: Dear Lucile, you are as beautiful as the moon behind a cloud, but as sad and silent as it is.

LUCILE: Yes, often obscured, but never clouded.

MAURICE: Why do you speak to me so rarely? Scene Six

LUCILE: Are words necessary? A glance tells me your thoughts. Since I left you, I have devoted myself entirely to God. Now our souls intertwine best in silence.

MAURICE: That's right. The loving look in your eyes speaks volumes. Being with you brings me the peace of my childhood, the joy of my youth. I would like to share a memory with you. When I entered the port of Newfoundland, I saw some sailors planting heliotrope in small beds in the ice fields of the north. They breathed in the distant Brittany in the poor, freezing flowers. So it is with your soul, from which I breathe in the mild scent of my lost homeland.

LUCILE (smiling and bowing her head): Look, here Fenelon says: “What we love will not die.” What sweet comfort in the thought: you will not die, Maurice, because Lucile loves you. (She hands him the book and points to the passage.)

MAURICE: You dream of the eternal homeland! What gives us certainty that it is not merely a dream, born of our desire?

LUCILE: Oh no, it is not—I live in that home—and I see it while I am alive. In the darkness of earthly life, I see the white dance of the soul ascending to that home and hear the voice of eternity.

MAURICE: And I, Lucile, hear only the voice of the approaching storm. Don't you hear that distant and terrifying roar? On the sea, when the sky is black and the storm rages through the air, one can fight against the elements. But here, in this storm of nations, we lack both rudder and sail. —

LUCILE (She displays feverish cheerfulness, striding across the room. ): I want to breathe the air of this storm of nations. I want to be in this restless crowd. (She grabs the duchess's domino and mask, which have been left behind by the duchess.): Do you remember how we secretly left one evening and I took the duchess's disguise so as not to be recognized? When we returned from the Breton club, you took me to the Marquise's ball. There was a woman dancing with a tambourine. Oh, how beautiful she was in her frenzy. I want to dance with the tambourine tonight—in the storm of life. (She laughs in a forced manner): Are you coming?

(Maurice stops; Lucile suddenly throws away her domino and mask.)

No—no more of this lie—Fulgence is already jealous of the duchess.

(During this speech, Saint-Riveul appears in the background and disappears immediately.):

MAURICE: You know — ?

LUCILE: If she saw me in this disguise, she would also be jealous of me. (Then, with words that contain strong willpower): But I don't want her to be jealous of me.

MAURICE: Jealous — of you! Lucile, you spoke of a great secret some time ago. When may I learn what it is? (He speaks these words as if in inner turmoil, so that they sound as if they do not fully express his thoughts. Noise can be heard in the street.): The storm of the people—the voice of fate resounds in this roar. (He exits.)

Lucile. Saint-Riveul

SAINT-RIVEUL (enters slowly and stops in the middle of the room): What are you doing, madam?

LUCILE (she had been leaning against the fireplace; only notices Saint-Riveul when his words attract her attention - startled): I was reading.

Saint-Riveul: I saw that. Reading for two. (He takes the book from the chaise longue and looks at the title:): Fenelon. I would have expected that from a bishop; from you, I would have expected a choreography textbook. Because you seemed to me to be dancing like a gypsy. I saw it with my own eyes. Madam, this is new.

LUCILE: Why this ridiculous spying? Do you need money?

SAINT-RIVEUL: No.

LUCILE: So what do you want from me? Seventh scene

SAINT-RIVEUL: I come from Versailles. Have the queen's orders been carried out? What about Lambesc and Bésenval?

LUCILE: I don't know.

SAINT-RIVEUL: What is the duchess doing? What about Maurice? It would have all been over (shrugs). Now the French Guard is fraternizing with the rabble. But things will turn out differently. It is not to be said that a bunch of drunken philistines and starving sans-culottes will triumph over an army of a hundred thousand men. But to speak of ourselves, you will not remain here from now on. You are coming with me to Versailles.

LUCILE: I don't know that either.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Is that all the royalist center has discovered? You have lost your heads here just as much as those in Versailles. You should have used the three days to treat the rebellious rabble with cannons; you should have driven the gangs of riffraff back into their holes and hanged the instigators on forty-foot-high gallows.

LUCILE: Never. Don't forget what we agreed. You can't give me orders. I promised you my fortune, you promised me my freedom.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Within the limits of your honor and mine. I allowed you to follow Maurice so that you could monitor his behavior toward the king. I promised to respect your strange taste for monastic vows in the midst of the world; I will not make myself an accomplice to your love affairs and degenerate fantasies.

LUCILE: How dare you say that to me?

SAINT-RIVEUL: I have observed you with Maurice.

LUCILE: Poor libertine, what do you know of what goes on in our souls?

SAINT-RIVEUL: Nevertheless, I forbid you to see him again. I gave you your freedom to follow your ideas, not to seek from him what you do not want to seek from me. You are my wife; you will come with me to Versailles, or I will have you taken to the Bastille.

LUCILE: Then I would much rather be in the Bastille than with you in Versailles.

SAINT-RIVEUL: Do not push me to extremes. Last night you attacked me with a dagger, and I remained silent. But since the moment I saw you with Maurice, I will no longer remain silent, but will act as [your husband].

(A great commotion can be heard in the street. Saint-Riveul rushes away in fear. - Lucile remains alone for a while.)

The duchess enters through the door on the left, followed by the countess and the baroness. A group of noblemen enters from the background, led by Ulliac. Saint-Riveul follows behind them.

THE NOBLEMEN (crowding around Ulliac, alarmed): What news do you bring?

DUCHESS, BARONESS, COUNTESS: What is it? What is it?

ULLIAC: What is it? The people have crossed the first moat of the Bastille. A wagoner has cut the chains of the drawbridge with an axe. It's like boarding a ship.

A NOBLE: And then?

ULLIAC: The people will return victorious.

THE DUCHESS, BARONESS, COUNTESS: And then?

ULLIAC: Then it will be the end of the white cockades.

THE NOBLE: Scoundrel, how dare you say that.

ULLIAC: Me? I didn't say anything. Everything I say is what the others have said.

THE NOBLE: So continue!

ULLIAC: Continue—the others say—that they won't touch a hair on my head because I belong to the people. But they will settle the score with you, and in such a way that you will have to pay the bill—from hell—say the others.

THE NOBLEMAN: Be careful that we don't send you to hell first.

ULLIAC: Well, we'll see about that. By the way, you and the others are all the same to me. I stand by Mr. Maurice and remain with my troops; go to yours. That's how it's done on the ocean, too.

THE DUCHESS: What is to be done? Save us, Saint-Riveul!

COUNTESS, BARONESS: Save us.

THE NOBLEMEN: Yes, save us, and if necessary, we will use our swords.

(Lucile raises her head when she hears the name Saint-Riveul; now she stands up to her full height, her eyes wide open, taking on a visionary expression, looking in the mirror and then turning to those present.):

DUCHESS, COUNTESS, BARONESS: What's the matter with her?

SAINT-RIVEUL: Don't listen to her; she looks like a madwoman!

LUCILE (speaking as if in ecstasy, breathless, her voice cadenced, frequently interrupted by cannon fire): I saw the figure of death in the mirror. He threatened you with black wings. The stronghold of lies—it is falling—and with it the whole world. A whirlwind of fear and rage. The terrible pains in which a new world is born—death carts—wars between nations—glorious armies. The century of freedom reveals itself—a radiant child—in its hands the sword of justice, the scepter of freedom, the robe of joy. (She turns to those present, who gather around her in a circle.): You want to be saved, you unfortunate defenders of the stronghold of lies and violence. - You believe you are, but you are already no more. - The storm sweeps you away like pale ghosts. - You, Duchess, there [I] see your head with its beautiful eyes - under the scaffold. You too, Countess. - You too, Baroness (she strides toward Saint-Riveul, who recoils): — You, Lord of Saint-Riveul, will not receive this honor; you will die despised in a foreign land. (Returns): Oh, what a multitude of scaffolds. - A sea of blood? (in a low voice): And now - the king? - The queen? (She falls as if fainting onto the chaise longue.):

ALL (crowding around her): What has happened?

MAURICE (seriously): The Bastille has fallen. The people marched victoriously into the fortress. They returned with the cannons, threw them into the moat, and carried the prisoners out in triumph.

THE COUNTESS: Where is Kéralio? Scene 8

BARONESS: Where is Monsieur de Marigny?

MAURICE: The white cockade was their misfortune. Their heads, impaled on pikes, are being carried through Paris.

COUNTESS (collapsing): How awful!

BARONESS: Let's flee!

SAINT-RIVEUL: It is high time to emigrate; let the madmen remain here alone.

(Everyone except Maurice and Lucile exits.)

Maurice, Lucile

(From outside, the sound of rifle butts hitting the stone tiles, as well as the voices of the night patrols exchanging the passwords: “Fatherland” — “Freedom.” The red glow of torches carried in the street reflects on the walls of the boudoir.)

Maurice (thoughtful, depressed, sits down next to Lucile, who is in a visionary sleep): What is it? What are those cries? “Fatherland,” “Freedom.” And me, am I a free person? Do I still have a home, a fatherland? Everything has collapsed for me. Only you, Lucile, remain with me, you lovely flower — which god has let you grow on the edge of my abyss. — How she sleeps, as if the sweetest dreams were passing through her soul. But now her features are changing—is she dreaming of the secret that is said to be a terrible and sublime power? She stirs—in her sleep— (Lucile pulls the picture of her mother and her mother's letter from her bosom and hands it to Maurice.): What is she handing me in her sleep? — The picture of her mother and her last will and testament? (He quickly skims through the contents of the letter.): - Oh, her mother's debt - to the Knight of Trévern - that is the secret. Lucile is not my father's daughter - we have different mothers. She is not my sister. - The blood that flows in her veins is not the same as mine - oh, what a terrible joy - she sleeps, as she once did at the Morgane spring - when I woke her by touching her eyelids with my lips - I want to... but she is waking up... Lucile, do you know where we are?

LUCILE (running her hand over her eyes): At Morgane's spring...

MAURICE: No, in Paris

LUCILE (shaking her head): I have lived through centuries in an instant. I was in another world.

MAURICE: Lucile, gather your thoughts—a world is collapsing around us; the Bastille has fallen.

LUCILE (now fully awake): I know, but are we living in this world? No, no more chains, no more masks. Let us take possession of the world we dreamed of. I see it—as if from the top of a mountain—spreading out endlessly.

MAURICE: Dear Lucile, come down to earth. How I would like to follow you—but I cannot see your wide circle. Who will guide us there?

LUCILE: Our united and victorious souls. (With mysterious liveliness): I just dreamed that we were sailing across the ocean on your beautiful ship—the waves before us like mountains. But they subsided before the power of my desire. We emerged from the glow of dawn... onto unknown islands.

MAURICE: You delight me—and frighten me at the same time. I want to follow you into your dreams—but first, confide in me the secret of your soul.

LUCILE [ (frightened)]: Which one?

MAURICE: The one you said before your marriage was a terrible and sublime secret. —

LUCILE [(horrified)]: No, never that. No, rather death—know that the mystery of our lives could separate us forever.

MAURICE: Lucile, I must know everything. —The decisive moment of life is here, one that could bring an eternity of pain or joy.

(Lucile falls onto the chaise longue, covering her face with her hands.):

— Lucile, what you don't want to tell me — I sense it — I understand our life now for the first time. Everything is clear, childhood, youth, the present, the future. - (Reflecting) Oh, that memory, do you remember the red lily in the pond?

(Lucile raises her head and listens to Maurice's words in confusion.):

Deep in the park, where the dense elms only let the light filter through—on the pond, an island in the shade of a cedar, a lonely iris—like a torch with three flames. How often we rowed around this island in a small boat and stared at the strange flower. Then you said: "How the red lily glows! But don't touch it, I think your hands would be stained with blood."

LUCILE: Maurice, Maurice, why do you remind me of that?

MAURICE: One day I lunged for the flower—you let out a cry—oh, I can still hear it.

LUCILE (places her hand on her heart): Oh, I can still feel here where the stem was broken.

MAURICE: I triumphantly brought you the lily—you pressed it to your heart. Then you said, “You have killed our dream.” I couldn't comfort you—you ran out of the park onto the heath. The next morning, I looked for you in your room—you were deeply sad—the lily already wilting in a vase. Sobbing, I fell at your feet—you remained unyielding—I never found out what was going on inside you at that time.

LUCILE (looking at him in dismay): It seemed to me as if you had broken the flower of my soul.

MAURICE: Doesn't this flower belong to me? Ninth Scene

LUCILE: Yes, completely.

MAURICE: Oh, the lily from back then, it blooms again; it casts its three flames into Lucile's heart.

LUCILE (breathless): Be silent!

MAURICE: Is the language of the soul blasphemy? Did not the angels take on physical form in order to love on earth! You are everything to me—our love includes the love of a sister, a wife, a lover—you are what you always were—my Lucile (taking her hands):

LUCILE [ (motionless, letting it happen as if in ecstasy):]: O... the abyss of our souls!

(Maurice shows her the picture and letter.):

LuciLe (with a cry of joy): You know my secret—then it is God who has snatched it from me.

MAURICE: You love me—as I love you?

LUCILE: I live in this love—I breathe in it—I will die in it with joy. Take me wherever you want.

MAURICE: Why do we still need the old world? Let's go to the new one. A love like ours will create new worlds. Let's go beyond the ocean.

LUCILE: Yes, let's go—this earth is too small for our love. A ship—on the ocean.

(Noise on the street)

MAURICE: We can flee now. I'll have a mail coach harnessed. Wait for me at the corner, near the Breton Club. Ulliac will take you there. He's coming with us.

LUCILE: But I need a disguise to get away. (Grabs the duchess's domino mask.): In this, they will take me for the duchess. (She puts on the domino mask and holds the mask in her hand.): Mask of folly—yes—may death find me under it. Under it, I am no longer Lucile—I am Maurice's lover in a new world.

(Puts on the mask, walks arm in arm with Maurice to the door; they remain standing in the doorway - Fulgence enters and watches the two of them.):

MAURICE (in the doorway): What luck! Just a little while longer. We will leave Europe and soon be in the New World. (He exits.):]

Lucile. Fulgence.

When Lucile sees Fulgence, she turns toward the fireplace and remains there, leaning on it. Otherwise, she stands in a defensive posture.

FULGENCE: Madam, you did not need that mask: I know you; I have often seen you in that fool's mask that hides your highness. I know that you are the duchess and that Maurice is waiting for you. You may find him. But first you must listen to me. You welcomed me into your home. I entrusted you with my heart, my fate and Maurice's. You smiled at me like the noblest of protectors. Your smile was deceitful, your hospitality treacherous.

(Lucile approaches her. Pause in silence ...):

Duchess, you misunderstand me; I am not what I often appear to be. I also need a mask to hide myself. However, it is different from yours. I need a mask for my feelings... You know, I love this man—love him so much that I was willing to sacrifice my pride for him—I have never truly loved a man before. I love him. To me, he is the world; what can he be to you? A whim! Oh, this whim, it takes away—my everything. (Silence): Answer me. At least tell me that you love him, that it is your love that you are trampling on, me and your husband, your honor and your duty. Oh, say this one word to me— then take off this mask—my heart will bleed; but perhaps it will find the way to forgiveness.

(Lucile turns her head.): Scene Ten

... You are silent—you dare not speak—you cannot find the courage to confess what you feel and who you are—... Icy silence—show me. Now go with Maurice—But hear from a woman who does not hide her feelings in despondency that no happiness will reign over you and Maurice—that cannot be justified by killing another soul. You take away my faith in the world with my beloved. That does not bring happiness, not on the ocean, not in America—it brings a curse. - (She exits.):

Lucile, first alone, then the leader of a band of rebels.

LUCILE (alone, still by the fireplace, takes off her mask): So that's how she loves him... And I gave him to her. The last veil is gone. - Her curse must follow me like a vengeful spirit; - I must become her rival -! What will become of Maurice and me? Are we allowed to love each other? One does not climb the heights of love only to fall into the abyss of lust without losing the heavenly worlds. - It cannot be; I cannot live lovingly by Maurice's side. Either his guardian angel or his wife. Both are not possible (sinks onto the chaise longue and covers her head with her hands):. What is to be done. God help me.

(Noise on the street. A troop of armed rebels enters, led by their leader. Some are dressed in National Guard uniforms; others are in rags, armed with shotguns, sabers, and pikes. Lucile has instinctively put her mask back on and stands in the middle of the stage.)

THE LEADER OF THE REBELS: There is the Austrian spy. Such is the courage of the aristocrats. There is their main camp. Arrest this duchess.

(The rebels surround Lucile; the leader turns to her.):

Duchess, you are our prisoner. Follow us to the town hall. There you will answer to the people's court for everything that has happened here.

(Lucile remains calm.)

Seize her.

(The rebels confer.)

FIRST REBEL [ (to his neighbor)]: I don't dare! ...

SECOND REBEL: She looks like a ghost.

THIRD REBEL: ... Oh, just like a carnival mask.

THE LEADER: Take off the mask, or I'll tear it off you.

(Lucile takes off the mask and also throws away the domino, pale, in a sky-blue dress.):

ALL (step back in astonishment): Not the duchess.

LUCILE: O kill me; I will be grateful to you.

THE LEADER: Who are you?

THE REBELS: Who—who are you?

LUCILE (looking at the men defiantly): Who am I? A woman who is willing to die for her love, as you would have died for your country.

THE LEADER (with his head uncovered): You are free.

(All the men take off their caps.):

We judge those who hate the people; we respect those who love them.

LUCILE (with a gesture of despair): To the convent! Yes, to the convent. (She leaves with quick steps.)