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The Lady of Lyons; or, Love and Pride, a play by Edward Bulwer-Lytton |
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Act 1 - Scene 1 |
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_ ACT I - SCENE I [A room in the house of M. DESCHAPPELLES, at Lyons. PAULINE reclining on a sofa; MARIAN, her maid, fanning her--Flowers and notes on a table beside the sofa--MADAME DESCHAPPELLES seated--The gardens are seen from the open window.]
Pauline [languidly]. Dear mother, you spoil your Pauline!--[Aside.] I wish I knew who sent me these flowers! Mme. Deschap. No, child!--If I praise you, it is only to inspire you with a proper ambition.--You are born to make a great marriage.--Beauty is valuable or worthless according as you invest the property to the best advantage. Marian, go and order the carriage! Pauline. Who can it be that sends me, every day, these beautiful flowers?--how sweet they are! Enter Servant. Servant. Monsieur Beauseant, Madam. Mme. Deschap. Let him enter. Pauline, this is another offer!--I know it is!--Your father should engage an additional clerk to keep the account-book of your conquests. [Enter BEAUSEANT.] Beau. Ah, ladies how fortunate I am to find you at home!--[Aside.] How lovely she looks!--It is a great sacrifice I make in marrying into a family in trade!--they will be eternally grateful!--[Aloud.] Madam, you will permit me a word with your charming daughter.--[Approaches PAULINE, who rises disdainfully.]--Mademoiselle, I have ventured to wait upon you, in a hope that you must long since have divined. Last night, when you outshone all the beauty of Lyons, you completed your conquest over me! You know that my fortune is not exceeded by any estate in the province,--you know that, but for the Revolution, which has defrauded me of my titles, I should be noble. May I, then, trust that you will not reject my alliance? I offer you my hand and heart. Pauline [aside.] He has the air of a man who confers a favor!--[Aloud.] Sir, you are very condescending--I thank you humbly; but, being duly sensible of my own demerits, you must allow me to decline the honor you propose. [Curtsies, and turns away. Beau. Decline! Impossible!--you are not serious!--Madam, suffer me to appeal to you. I am a suitor for your daughter's hand--the settlements shall be worthy of her beauty and my station. May I wait on M. Deschappelles? Mme. Deschap. M. Deschappelles never interferes in the domestic arrangements,--you are very obliging. If you were still a marquis, or if my daughter were intended to marry a commoner,--why, perhaps, we might give you the preference. Beau. A commoner!--we are all commoners in France now. Mme. Deschap. In France, yes; but there is a nobility still left in the other countries in Europe. We are quite aware of your good qualities, and don't doubt that you will find some lady more suitable to your pretensions. We shall be always happy to see you as an acquaintance, M. Beauseant!--My dear child, the carriage will be here presently. Beau. Say no more, madam!--say no more!--[Aside.] Refused! and by a merchant's daughter!--refused! It will be all over Lyons before sunset!--I will go and bury myself in my chateau, study philosophy, and turn woman-hater. Refused! they ought to be sent to a madhouse!-- Ladies, I have the honor to wish you a very good morning. Mme. Deschap. How forward these men are!--I think, child, we kept up our dignity. Any girl, however inexperienced, knows how to accept an offer, but it requires a vast deal of address to refuse one with proper condescension and disdain. I used to practise it at school with the dancing-master. [Enter DAMAS.] Damas. Good morning, cousin Deschappelles.--Well, Pauline, are you recovered from last night's ball?--So many triumphs must be very fatiguing. Even M. Glavis sighed most piteously when you departed; but that might be the effect of the supper. Pauline. M. Glavis, indeed! Mme. Deschap. M. Glavis?--as if my daughter would think of M. Glavis! Damas. Hey-day!--why not?--His father left him a very pretty fortune, and his birth is higher than yours, cousin Deschappelles. But perhaps you are looking to M. Beauseant,--his father was a marquis before the Revolution. Pauline. M. Beauseant!--Cousin, you delight in tormenting me! Mme. Deschap. Don't mind him, Pauline!--Cousin Damas, you have no susceptibility of feeling,--there is a certain indelicacy in all your ideas.--M. Beauseant knows already that he is no match for my daughter! Damas. Pooh! pooh! one would think you intended your daughter to marry a prince! Mme. Deschap. Well, and if I did?--what then?--Many a foreign prince-- Damas [interrupting her]. Foreign prince!--foreign fiddlestick!--you ought to be ashamed of such nonsense at your time of life. Mme. Deschap. My time of life!--That is an expression never applied to any lady till she is sixty-nine and three-quarters;--and only then by the clergyman of the parish. [Enter Servant.] Servant. Madame, the carriage is at the door. Mme. Deschap. Come, child, put on your bonnet--you really have a very thorough-bred air--not at all like your poor father.--[Fondly]. Ah, you little coquette! when a young lady is always making mischief, it is a sure sign that she takes after her mother! Pauline. Good day, cousin Damas--and a better humor to you.--[Going back to the table and taking the flowers]. Who could have sent me these flowers? [Exeunt PAULINE and MADAME DESCHAPPELLES.] Damas. That would be an excellent girl if her head had not been turned. I fear she is now become incorrigible! Zounds, what a lucky fellow I am to be still a bachelor! They may talk of the devotion of the sex--but the most faithful attachment in life is that of a woman in love--with herself. [Exit.] _ |
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