Act 2 - Scene 1

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_ ACT II - SCENE I

[In the bedroom of the DUCHESS--exquisite, fantastic, with walls panelled in odd peacock blue. Upon these walls are crystal appliques of a bizarre design, looking like strange ear-rings and holding within them amber lights. In the centre of the room falls a crystal candelabra with five small slender scarlet candles. On stage right a slender bed made entirely of the body of a swan--a canopy over it of pale rose net is attached with three blue feathers to the ceiling. This canopy drops over the head and foot of the bed. On stage left is a dressing mirror and table draped in fresh white muslin and rare lace. Below this table is a door--another door is directly opposite and behind the bed which faces the audience. In direct centre is a tall oblong window draped with a daffodil yellow taffeta faintly striped in mauve. A little in front, beneath this window, is a directoire sofa covered with pillows of exquisite brocade. The chairs and other appointments of furniture are cream-colored, bespattered with flowers and reminiscent of Venice. On the right, just off centre a marble faun with grotesque features on a black onyx pedestal. The DUCHESS has set around its throat many of her priceless necklaces.

A maid is seen preparing for the DUCHESS when the curtain rises.

Enter the DUCHESS after a few seconds' interval.]

DUCHESS.
How is it possible that he is not returned? How long has he been gone? Did you notice what o'clock it was when I sent him? Answer me, answer me something. Don't stand about bemused as if you had never heard of a clock, or Piccolo, or a letter since you were born.

MAID.
He cannot have had your note beyond a few minutes, Madame, but I think----

[She bends in an attitude of listening. The DUCHESS is before her in opening the door on right.]

[PICCOLO, the same equerry seen before, enters bowing low.]

PICCOLO.
Your Grace.

DUCHESS
[with unconcealed impatience]

Did you find the clown?

PICCOLO.
Yes, your Grace.

[He is obviously disturbed.]

DUCHESS.
Could he read my letter? Did he appear to be reading it?

[She walks swiftly up and down]
Maybe he cannot read.

PICCOLO.
He did not receive the letter from me, your Grace.

DUCHESS.
How do you mean?

PICCOLO.
I think it was he who was standing with Messire Phedro, who took it from me to give it to him.

DUCHESS.
You tasselled ass, why did you let him have it?

PICCOLO
[trying to save himself]

Nay, your Grace, he gave it at once to the clown, for I know it was the clown standing with him by the spidery confusion of his limbs. Messire Phedro said I was to tell your Grace that you were understood and would be obeyed.

DUCHESS
[half to herself]

Well, maybe there is some reason.

[she turns to the equerry]
Go about your business. Don't stand around as if you were expecting the lash or you will feel it.

[The equerry rapidly retires. The DUCHESS turns to her maid.]

DUCHESS.
Ugh! Rid me of all this glittering discomfort.

[The maid helps her out of the stiff wonderful dress and into a lovely azure garment sprayed with silver flowers.]

DUCHESS.
[Fixing the maid with a peremptory eye.]

I will only consent to be disturbed by one person tonight. He will come alone or with Messire Phedro. He will be stooped, a little below the medium height, and will probably be in black. If the Prince command me I am already at rest. If the Queen command me I am ill. Do you understand that I will be at home to no one save this one visitor?

MAID.
Your Grace is obeyed.

[The DUCHESS walks over to the window and throws it wide open. Moonlight falls strongly in the garden just outside and water splashes noisily from the plump hands of a dancing Cupid, poised airily upon a minute Doric column. The DUCHESS turns, frowning impatiently as she watches the maid's motions about the room.]

DUCHESS.
Go, go. How can you take so long to straighten a pair of slippers.

[The maid retires precipitately. The DUCHESS turns once more towards the window, glancing across the court.]

There are shadows in Charles's room, wrangling shadows.

[She puts her finger to her lip, biting it in a meditative manner.]

Ah, somebody is trying to break away. What a bore it would be----

[There is a sound of a key clicking in the latch; the door on stage left opens. PHEDRO comes swiftly into the room. He checks an exclamation of the DUCHESS, speaking hurriedly.]

PHEDRO.
I know, I guessed. Listen, Gwymplane has not had your letter. This was the only possible way. I have told him his blind girl is in the palace, in order to draw him hither. Play to that, first.

[The DUCHESS hastily slips on a mask.]

GWYMPLANE
[entering]

Where are we now?

DUCHESS
[coming forward graciously]

I believe you seek--

GWYMPLANE
[hastily]

The blind girl in my troupe. It appears she is in the palace.

DUCHESS.
[Trying to conceal her joy at his arrival.]

The palace is so amazingly large. Have you an idea in what part of the palace to look?

GWYMPLANE
[bitterly]

Some slight idea.

DUCHESS.
Then you cannot do better than to send Phedro to the exact spot.

GWYMPLANE.
Very well. We both will----

[He makes a motion of departure.]

DUCHESS.
No, no.

[detaining him with her white arm]
Let him go and discover where she is and if he cannot bring her here, then he shall return and take you to her.

GWYMPLANE.
But that will lose time, I must----

DUCHESS.
Mistakes are so much more disastrous than delay. One can pass unnoticed where two will be remarked. Trust to my better knowledge of the court.

GWYMPLANE
[reluctantly]

Very well, Madame. Only speed, Sir, speed, and return to me.

PHEDRO.
I will, dear mummer.

[He exits.]

DUCHESS.
[Turning to GWYMPLANE with gracious triteness.]

Ah, what an unexpected delight that I might tell you what pleasure your performance gave.

GWYMPLANE.
[standing stiffly attentive]

Then my work is lavishly rewarded, Madame.

DUCHESS.
[In the tone of one who confers by asking a favor.]

Do unmask. It is so very warm in these rooms.

GWYMPLANE.
I consider but your comfort, Madame, in wearing my mask.

DUCHESS
[smiling subtly]

Nay, you would be surprised at what considers my comfort and what does not. Your mask, for instance, does not.

[She sinks upon her chaise longue, intensely graceful and beautiful. GWYMPLANE lets his eyes rest upon her for a moment.]

Your mask, do remove it. I have always heard artists were most gallant to women. See, I remove mine.

GWYMPLANE.
[Stifled with surprise and emotion.]

Madame ... Madame....

DUCHESS.
Come! I command you to obey me. Pray take off your mask! You can have no idea how I hate mentioning a desire twice.

[GWYMPLANE removes his mask. The DUCHESS looks at him intently and sighs.]

DUCHESS.
It must be wonderful to be you.

[She motions him to a black cushion with golden tassels at the foot of her couch.]

GWYMPLANE.
[Who has by this time mastered himself.]

To be me, Madame?

[bitterly]
But of course your life is a revel of laughter; so why should not your thoughts be forever jesting through your words?

DUCHESS.
I am not jesting.

GWYMPLANE
[surprised]

Madame?

DUCHESS.
It must be wonderful to be you and wind through forests and across hills into new cities with your drummers beating attention for you, through lines of unknown faces, faces over whom you have a rare--a great power. For you can moisten them with tears--choke away their breath with laughter. And afterwards, when you have finished your performance and are walking on the outskirts of some alien city, tell me, do not certain ones steal out to you and tell you of the blasphemous fancies you have stirred awake in their souls?

GWYMPLANE.
What are you saying, Madame, what are you not saying!

DUCHESS.
[Leaning forward and taking one of his beautiful hands.]

O, Gwymplane, I am lonely. You can have no idea how lonely. Everything around me is so false to my desires, is so alien to what I feel myself to be.

GWYMPLANE.
You are so beautiful, Madame. Your loneliness only makes you more so. It lends the quality of a goddess to what is already earthly majesty.

[He is about to press his strange lips to her hands, when suddenly he remembers and resists.]

DUCHESS.
Ah, you were going to kiss my hand. Why didn't you kiss it? [She stretches it out close to his mouth.]

See--here--here it is, most soft and white.

[GWYMPLANE draws away, passing his hand across his brow. The DUCHESS leans toward him, almost over him.]

I am very lonely, Gwymplane. Give me a few moments of forgetfulness. O, tell me about your life--tell me about what has happened to you.

[She lays her hand upon his shoulder. GWYMPLANE takes it, kisses it, and looks up at her with flaming eyes and chalk-pale face.]

Ah, that is nice! The touch of your lips chills, burns me with forgetfulness. The touch of your lips is like a tide hushing, sucking my wakefulness down into depths of terrible oblivion. O, listen, you are grotesque--your limbs are like the coils of nightmare. I love you because you are so grotesque--because upon your face is stamped the contorted beauty of your mind--your mind that is surely as amazing as your face. O, Gwymplane, tell me of what you have thought, tell me of what you are thinking.

GWYMPLANE.
[Who is led into rapture by her words, kneels and suddenly kisses her feet.]

I am kissing your little white feet. It is like brushing my face amongst sprays of silken flowers.

DUCHESS.
Ah, do not talk beautifully to me, Gwymplane.

GWYMPLANE.
But you are beauty! What other language would you understand?

DUCHESS.
Do not talk to me beautifully, Gwymplane. Talk to me with the savage pulsating words of your clown language. Talk to me as if you held a whip in your hand.

[She catches at his hand]
What marvellous hands you have! Deceitful hands--for they look unlike the things they do--the things they must do.

GWYMPLANE.
[Sitting upon her couch and bending over her lips.]

I think you are something I have stolen out of a temple--a wonderful winged crowned figure that I have stolen out of a temple and profaned. I feel as if we were in a black barge upon a scarlet sea, as if in a moment it would dip over the horizon line and we should be lost forever together. O, I feel as if all the light in the world were flowing from behind the chalice of your pale face. I love you, I love you.

DUCHESS.
[Drawing away from his straining arms and lips.]

You love me, you love me! But you do not talk to me as if you were a clown. You do not speak to me with those curiously pungent words that are flung between men and women in the thickets near the booths. [almost pettishly] You do not talk at all like a clown, Gwymplane.

GWYMPLANE.
[His eyes slowly travelling over her body.]

I do not understand--I cannot understand why you permit my hands to touch you. Does not the flame from my hands burn you as they tremble and hover nearer, nearer to your scorching loveliness? But I think you are ivory, ivory dyed in hues of dawn and sunset.

DUCHESS.
Ah, I wish you would not speak to me beautifully. I tell you beauty is not so dear to me as ugliness. O, Gwymplane
[with a rather coarse gesture nudging his arm],
O, Gwymplane, tell me of love as I want to hear of it, and I will love you better than all the rest!

GWYMPLANE.
The rest?
[he presses his hand to his temple]
There are no rest. There was one--O God! I am lost! Nothing matters now
[in a shrill voice].
I--I have found out what I can be!

DUCHESS.
[Stretching herself and smiling upon him.]

How happy I am with you, my distorted lover! Only I wish you had not taken the white paint from your face. I wish your lips were fantastically scarlet as when you danced. I wish you were in your clown's dress and that the circus dwarfs could be here, playing their evil music while we talked. Kiss me.

GWYMPLANE.
[Drawing away and gazing at her in rapture.]

But my heart is here, underneath your slender foot. O, my heart has no will of its own but is only a reckless fever leaping, shivering after crumbs of your favour.

[He is about to kiss her, when suddenly the DUCHESS turns aside--an odd numbness creeping over her features.]

DUCHESS.
Something is wrong--terribly wrong. You do not speak to me like a clown. You are not like a clown. Who are you--what are you really?

GWYMPLANE.
My love
[he turns to kiss her shoulder],
I am your lover. What does any other reality matter tonight?

[There is a knock at the door on stage left. GWYMPLANE starts to his feet, flinging upon the DUCHESS a look of terror.]

DUCHESS
[biting her lip--calls out]

Who dares to disturb my rest?

VOICE OF PRINCE CHARLES.
It is I.

DUCHESS.
Well?

CHARLES.
Phedro told me he thought he heard you cry out a moment ago?

DUCHESS.
Ah, so it is he
--[her face has grown dark and furious]
or does he push in some accident to favour me.

GWYMPLANE.
[in a low voice]

Treachery--if I had not been so mad all evening I could have smelt it on every gust of air.

JOSEPHINE.
Hush, don't ruin us.

CHARLES.
Did I hear you speak?

JOSEPHINE.
No, Charles. I was merely muttering a few imprecations at you for disturbing my rest.

CHARLES.
You want for nothing?

JOSEPHINE.
For nothing save to be left in peace.

[The footsteps of the PRINCE are heard receding. Suddenly through the open French window steps DEA. GWYMPLANE shudders back with horror. The DUCHESS looks in amazement and anger at the lovely apparition. GWYMPLANE with a gesture of supplication implores her to be silent. The DUCHESS returns his look contemptuously.]

DEA.
[advancing into the room]

Where am I? Someone took me out of one room and pushed me in here.

DUCHESS.
I am the Duchess of Beaumont. You are in my room.

DEA.
O, I am glad, Madame. I have been terribly frightened all evening.

[GWYMPLANE stands frozenly against the wall.]

DUCHESS.
Really? By what?

DEA.
I was looking for the Queen. I was being guided to the Queen's apartment when suddenly I found myself in a room with some gentleman.

DUCHESS.
Ah, what gentleman, I wonder?

DEA.
I do not know. I am blind and he would not answer me. But I felt his hand to see if it was the Court Steward's. It was not the Court Steward's hand, for this man wore a ring with a gigantic stone.

DUCHESS.
[Always unquestionably upon the right scent of anything damaging to her vanity.]

An oblong stone?

DEA
[pausing]

Yes, your Grace, I am sure it was an oblong stone.

DUCHESS
[her face becoming very malicious]

Well, what did he wish of you?

DEA.
He said many things to me. He told me how I appeared to him in all things beautiful, and that he wished to steal me away forever from the troop and for himself because he loved me.

DUCHESS
[starts]

[GWYMPLANE wrings his hands in impotent fury.]

Strange those bundles we possess, that are of no value to us whatever, should, nevertheless, when they fall into the river, become precious as gold.

[she snaps her fingers]
So much for faithfulness! And you answered this gentleman?

DEA
[looking around abstracted]

Your Grace, is there anyone else in this room?

DUCHESS.
I don't think so.

[GWYMPLANE starts imperceptibly. The malicious DUCHESS, reading his thought, shuts the window and locks it. GWYMPLANE looks at her in terror.]

And what did you reply to your preposterous lover, little gipsy thief?

DEA.
Madame!

DUCHESS.
Unconscious, charming thief of affection that should tonight, if ever, have been faithful! So
[half to herself]
one can be jealous of a man without caring a rap for him! Well, it is something to have found out that vanity is the ruling passion. I shall take more care of its feelings than ever after this. But--your story, little blind girl.

DEA.
O--I stretched my arms out against this gentleman and prayed, and my prayer was heard, for Phedro came and said he thought he had heard you call, and this man went out telling me to remain, when a pair of hands suddenly laid hold upon my wrists and led me out into the air, then pushed me into this room.

DUCHESS.
Think how disappointed your lover will be when he returns and finds you gone!

DEA.
I do not care what he should think.

DUCHESS.
Your affections are already a wreath upon some mortal head, eh?

DEA
[modestly]

Yes, I love, I am beloved.

DUCHESS
[quizzically regarding her]

By whom, pray?

DEA.
Messire Gwymplane of the circus troop.

DUCHESS
[throwing back her head and laughing]

No? Beloved by Gwymplane, you say?

[GWYMPLANE looks at her in a horror of bewilderment, the point of her conduct beginning to pierce his heart.]

DEA.
O yes, beloved by Gwymplane.

DUCHESS.
It seems to me, child, that upon this somewhat fantastic night we have perhaps changed partners.

DEA.
Madame?

[GWYMPLANE stands rigidly silent. The DUCHESS plucks a flower from a vase, throwing the petals over DEA'S head in a gesture half gay, half brutal.]

DUCHESS.
At last the whimsy of my soul is outmatched by the turn of events.

DEA.
I hang upon your words, Madame, yet I do not understand them.

DUCHESS.
Still you and I have proven to each other, with and without intent, the existence of a quality common to the world at large--faithlessness, look you.

[With an almost violent gesture she drags DEA over to GWYMPLANE and places her hand upon the familiar form.]

DEA.
[Feeling with gradually hurrying, hysterical fingers.]

Gwymplane, my love!

GWYMPLANE.
Ah, Dea, yes.

DEA.
How wonderful to find you in this terrible nightmare--like a fire flaming up before snow-lost feet.

GWYMPLANE.
My Dea.

[She puts her hand upon his shoulder, the DUCHESS regarding them through her lorgnette.]

DUCHESS.
What an idyl! How it refreshes me to watch. However, come, clown, take the girl and begone. Here is a crown for your love--it did not please me, you know, so you are getting far more than your deserts.

DEA
[halting]

Your love, Gwymplane? She said your love?

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 pass understanding?

[She puts her arm through his]
Come, let us go.

DUCHESS
[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.

DUCHESS
[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----

DUCHESS.
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 DUCHESS.]

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

DUCHESS
[pointing imperiously]

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

[GWYMPLANE, unheeding, tries to pass 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.

DUCHESS.
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.

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

GWYMPLANE.
Well then?

DUCHESS.
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.

DUCHESS.
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.

DUCHESS
[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 dispassionately, Madame. But, considering you waived my personal defects
[he winces],
just why did I not--please you?

DUCHESS.
But I told you before--I wanted a clown, and you talk like the very essence of all these lords and poets. But that is aside--I am to be married tomorrow.

GWYMPLANE.
I know,--to him--and you wish him spared the public lash of scandal, I suppose.

DUCHESS.
He need not be spared it entirely--I do not ask that. You can make plea to the Queen, if you wish, the day after the ceremony--only not tomorrow. Much rests on that for me.

GWYMPLANE.
Madame, with the insolence of your class, you are asking favours of one whose degradation you have sought and shared.

DUCHESS.
Perhaps, but you must remember that I am the sister of the Queen and can impose obedience to the most insolent favours I choose to demand.

[A loud knock from the door leading into the conservatory. GWYMPLANE starts towards the door. The DUCHESS holds him back.]

Truly an eventful hour. [she raises her voice]

Ah, what now?

VOICE OF THE QUEEN.
I heard you were so indisposed you could not come to me even upon the most urgent matter.

[The DUCHESS signifies with a gesture of fury that she is aware of being fatally played against. In the meantime the QUEEN is putting her own key into the lock. JOSEPHINE turns with supplication to GWYMPLANE, at length too afflicted by the situation to guard her poise.]

DUCHESS.
You would not talk like a clown. Be----I know you--a gentleman. Save me! Save us!

[She points to a door.]

In there--a blind closet. Do not attempt to escape or we shall hear you.

GWYMPLANE.
[Bowing low and casting an ironic eye upon the panic of the DUCHESS.]

There is at least a peculiar variety in your demands, Madame----

[The door barely closes upon him as the QUEEN enters continuing her speech.]

QUEEN.
Consequently, if you are too ill to attend the Queen, it is but human for the Queen to await anxiously upon you. But, my dear--

[The DUCHESS is biting her lip with ill-concealed rage.]

You do not look ill--you look angry. Have there been disturbing things?

[She plucks the curtain aside, and lets it drop, but continues looking about her with assumed carelessness.]

DUCHESS.
Nothing more disturbing than being continually interrupted--I do not speak of your Majesty's visit--when I wished to remain undisturbed.

QUEEN.
How annoying to have one's solitary reveries continually scattered by people hammering at the door. What did they all want? Who were they?

DUCHESS.
There was Charles.

QUEEN.
And after that?

DUCHESS.
O, various people asking ridiculous questions.

[She plucks a large bit of heliotrope from the bowl and bites it rather vengefully.]

But, my sister, do confide in me the august matter that can necessitate your being abroad at such an unearthly hour.

QUEEN.
There is no one that can overhear us? You have dismissed your servants?

DUCHESS.
O, hours ago.

[rather insolently]
You may feel quite at your ease with me.

QUEEN.
You will forgive my poking about, Josephine? But you are so vague--all artistic and beautiful natures are vague--you might easily have forgotten that Piccolo is hanging about somewhere waiting to carry a last goodnight word to your impatient bridegroom. Why, there is a strange girl sitting at this very moment in your conservatory. Her face was somehow familiar.

DUCHESS
[commencing to be rather distracted]

Ah, yes, a late hamper of my wedding clothes. The girl awaits for me to repay her pains for coming. But, indeed, your Majesty, I would be flattered if you would accept my word that we are alone here.

QUEEN.
Dear child, naturally, I accept your conviction that there is no one about, but I do not trust your memory. I admire too much the artist in you for that. Ah! Do I hear someone scratching apologetically upon the window? [smiling] Really, no wonder your sense of privacy is outraged tonight.

DUCHESS.
Who now?

PRINCE
[in a slightly frantic voice]

I, Josephine. Did anyone pass in by this window a few minutes ago?

DUCHESS.
[Looking at the QUEEN, whose ironic countenance struggles with real emotion.]

Who should? You perceive the curtains are drawn.

PRINCE.
A girl--one of the troupe of mountebanks--a blind girl. Phedro brought her in with a most important letter for the Queen. He left her a moment, returned, and she was gone. He hesitated to disturb you at this late hour; so I told him I would come myself and ask.

QUEEN.
[suddenly speaking in a tone of relief]

Ah, with a note for me. Is it only that? For Heaven's sake, don't go on talking through a closed window, Charles. It gives such an air of tension to everything. Josephine, open the window to Charles.

[Josephine obeys.]

PRINCE.
[Stepping into the room so befogged with his own agitation as to have no room left for astonishment at the presence of the QUEEN.]

Josephine, your Majesty, are you quite sure----

DUCHESS.
My dear Charles, do you think I am in the habit of not noticing the intrusion of perfectly strange women into my apartment at night?

PRINCE.
Then you saw no one?

[DUCHESS smiles enigmatically.]

QUEEN
[addressing the PRINCE.]

Why are you so anxious that this message from the blind girl is delayed? Or are you just naturally upset about everything tonight, being so near the altar?

DUCHESS.
Ah, yes, so near the altar. Tell me how have you spent these last free hours, Charles?

QUEEN.
I hope you have spent them romantically, fingering a lute or something.

DUCHESS.
Fingering something--was it a lute, Charles?

[CHARLES glances at the DUCHESS in alarm. The QUEEN intercepts the look and grows a little uneasy herself.]

QUEEN.
You seem to be throwing dirt at one another out of a bonbonniere. I have a feeling I should extremely dislike to hear you actually explain yourselves. I wonder where Phedro is. He has hinted to me of extraordinary news for tonight.

[she opens the window and looks out]
And now it is almost dawn.

[She calls PHEDRO, and opens the door through which she has entered the room, calling PHEDRO.]

VOICE OF PHEDRO.
Majesty, I come.

[He enters. The DUCHESS gives him a fearful look, which he returns with a grim smile.]

QUEEN.
You promised significant news for me after midnight and in the apartment of the Duchess. I have come. It is long beyond midnight. What have you to say?

PHEDRO.
We are strictly in private, your Majesty?

QUEEN.
Assure yourself. I had some feeling about it myself a few minutes ago.

[PHEDRO steps at once to the door where the mountebank is concealed, but the DUCHESS with a haughty look actually forestalls him, opening the door herself. GWYMPLANE steps into the room. The QUEEN pretends to be speechless. The PRINCE is.]

[stiffly] Your Grace, the Duchess of Beaumont will please explain.

DUCHESS.
Oh, this mountebank was merely seeking the blind girl from his troupe, who had been admitted, or possibly abducted, into the palace.

QUEEN.
Abducted, really? By whom? For whom?

DUCHESS.
[with a glance at CHARLES.]

We do not know, but we guess possibly.

[At the word "abducted" GWYMPLANE steps menacingly up to the PRINCE. The QUEEN catches the look of hauteur and hatred that is exchanged between them. She hastily discovers some growing discomfort from which she slides away in her usual fashion by pursuing another channel of thought.]

QUEEN.
Nevertheless, why does he seek his partner in your Grace's closet?

PRINCE.
Josephine, good God--what are you?

DUCHESS.
What you are or would be, Charles--a star of the nobility, shedding its single glory for the last time.

QUEEN.
Come, come, cease your language. Why was this mountebank in your Grace's closet?

DUCHESS.
He flew to the nearest door in the opposite direction from whence came your Majesty's voice. I suppose he lost his head in his embarrassment. That is a quality of the lower classes.

QUEEN.
Your answers are tedious evasions. They explain nothing save what you wish to conceal--your dishonour.

[she turns to GWYMPLANE]
Mountebank, I think you have ruined and frustrated the life of a most important personage in our court.

PHEDRO.
Hold, hold. A bat has not torn a lily as you suppose, your Majesty.

QUEEN.
No? Then what has happened, Phedro? And do drop your metaphor. We are not wise enough so late to do it justice.

PHEDRO.
Two stars have blundered together, that is all. Her Grace the Duchess of Beaumont and His Highness Prince Ian of Vaucluse.

PRINCE.
My brother? Here? But my brother is dead! Where can you have imagined to have seen my brother?

PHEDRO.
[Approaches GWYMPLANE making him a low bow.]

Prince Ian of Vaucluse.

[GWYMPLANE, as if he saw madness, loses the nervous control of his features by which he can efface his terrible grin, and his face grows convulsed with it.]

QUEEN.
[regarding him and laughing shrilly]

Here is some monstrous joke devised by Phedro. Why, Josephine, if this were true, then he--the clown--would be your fiance, nor have a right to reject you, since sharing in your rather disreputable offence. Ah, what folly!
[she places her hand upon her heart, gazing at PRINCE CHARLES.]
But how I would like to credit the wildest phantasy tonight.

[The DUCHESS is looking on disdainfully as if witnessing rather a boring farce.]

PHEDRO.
[looking intensely at the QUEEN.]

When the thing that we have longed for comes true, it may sound like madness. I have every credential to prove my extraordinary announcement.

QUEEN.
[Looking whimsically from one to another.]

Ah, let us suppose for a moment, Josephine, that this were true. Surely you would be happy in a marriage so fortified by natural selection, and, as for Charles--the loss of certain things might be replaced by others.

[She gazes at him tenderly.]

DUCHESS.
[In a sudden outburst of confusion and ennui.]

We are all gone mad. I feel as if we were in a web. I marry with a clown--the clown a lord--the lord a deformity.
[She shudders]

GWYMPLANE.
O, I cannot stand this hellish whirl another instant. It is biting my ankles off and blinding my eyes in a red sting of madness.

[He attempts to throw open the door. PHEDRO swiftly forestalls him with widespread arms and a grim expression; GWYMPLANE turns away bowed from his ferocity of pain and bewilderment, while PHEDRO, with an incredible, greased swiftness, lets himself out the door, and returns almost upon the instant with DEA terrified, supported on his arm.]

PHEDRO.
[turning suavely to DEA.]

My dear young lady, calm yourself. Where is the letter?

[DEA takes it from her breast. GWYMPLANE looks at the letter in agonized amazement.]

DEA.
You said I was to give it to the Queen.

PHEDRO.
You are in the presence of her Majesty.

[DEA makes a low curtsey, and holds out the letter. The QUEEN takes it from her with a strange, stiff gesture.]

Your Majesty, this is the missive sealing officially my tale.

QUEEN.
[Reads the letter, her face played upon by expressions varying from incredulity to ironic joy. Turning to PHEDRO.]

There is no doubt about this?

PHEDRO
[turning a page]

You note your Chancellor's signature.

QUEEN.
[Finishes the letter and stands looking intently ahead of her. She suddenly speaks in a rather strange voice.]

I hate to be trite, but my inner laughter is far too loud to be tamed into wit; so I think I must use the stock phrase, and observe that truth is never so tedious as fiction.

[she passes her hand over her brow]
Come, clown, you may go, or rather my lord, you have my earnest leave to exchange our presence for the open air, while we sit in judgment over these discoveries. You may take the young lady with you, who apparently cannot see
[with a bitter look at CHARLES]
the interest she evokes.

[GWYMPLANE drags DEA out half fainting, but turns in the door, facing them all.]

GWYMPLANE.
Take care. It is dangerous to be marionettes too long--even now your limbs may be turning into sawdust.

[They exit without paying the QUEEN respect.]

QUEEN.
[Turning to PRINCE CHARLES and then to the DUCHESS.]

How very uncomfortable he will make the House of Lords. Artists are terrible people, especially when they get out of their metier, and even if they were born gentlemen.

[she takes a hand of the DUCHESS and of CHARLES.]
I request you both to be in my cabinet tomorrow morning as early as you can manage to rouse yourselves after this rather full evening, and we shall see what it is fair to do in love
[she glances softly and rather whimsically at the PRINCE.]
and war.
[looking fixedly at JOSEPHINE]

[She throws both their hands away from her as if they had stung her. An equerry opens the door, and she exits abruptly.]

PRINCE and the DUCHESS
[bowing low to her departing back and murmuring]:

Your Majesty is obeyed.

CURTAIN _

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