Александр Дюма

The Mad Marquis


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at two in the morning, the next day to be present at a hunt of the sovereign, to launch a bullet in the neck of a goat, and swear by the great gods that the King hit it—to admire his beautiful outfit on horse, to display wit with men, grace with the women—that’s what a marquis of twenty-five must do, and you will see auntie, if I don’t acquit myself marvelously.

      COUNTESS

      Now that ravishes me.

      ADELAIDE

      As for me, it pains me.

      MARQUIS

      I already have a large number of friends. How not to be refined by our epoch in which the bankruptcy of law made deep impressions. I come surrounded by gold; my carriages are admired by all—hardly do they mention in Paris a new furnishing, which has already changed—There’s a crowd each day in my salons to find out who will be at my little supper.

      ADELAIDE

      That they accept and don’t show up at—

      COUNTESS

      What do you know about it, Miss?

      MARQUIS

      As to that, Auntie, she’s right. For the rest, here’s my plan: In our château at Brunoy, my education is divided into two parts. You, Auntie, carefully inspired a love of etiquette in me, as well as respect for our ancient chivalry. For his part, my father taught me to meditate on the philosophers of our time—Rousseau, Diderot, d’Alembert—

      COUNTESS

      Eh, what names you are saying there.

      MARQUIS

      Don’t be afraid—these gentlemen attack each other and our titles, and would like to overthrow us.

      COUNTESS

      The mountebanks.

      MARQUIS

      I have measured their weapons—and most are dangerous because they are just. Here’s my plan: to raise up the idol they wish to strike down—to deliver my gold to young people of the court to attach them to my following.

      COUNTESS

      Do you want to ruin yourself?

      MARQUIS

      To enrich myself with the advice and the example of our illustrious ones, strong from their experience, to dominate my disciples, to make them adopt reason under the mantle of pleasure, to gently vanquish their frivolity which must ruin us, to propose virtue for future old age. Thus I shall save the nobility and the monarchy. That’s my goal. I didn’t come to Versailles to unfurl my pride there. I came as a man who loves his country. Nobility doesn’t consist merely to display it’s pomp in the panels of a carriage—its true place is in the court! Lead me there, Auntie, I am ready to follow you.

      COUNTESS (aside)

      He’s got an exaltation in ideas which will ruin him.

      MARQUIS

      Well, Adelaide, are you still annoyed to see me at the court?

      ADELAIDE

      I would prefer to see you with us.

      MARQUIS

      I will return often.

      SERVANT (announcing)

      The carriage is ready.

      COUNTESS

      Let’s leave, nephew.

      (The Marquis gives his arm to the Countess and they leave.)

      ROSINE

      Come on, Miss. Once the Marquis is installed at court, solitude is promised to us. We shall return to Brunoy.

      ADELAIDE

      Ah, my God! What a sad place. How bored I’m going to be there.

      ROSINE

      You call the most beautiful estate in France a sad place?

      ADELAIDE

      Yes, it’s true, but despite all sorts of magnificence, I don’t see my cousin that I love so much.

      ROSINE

      And what about him—does he love you?

      ADELAIDE

      I will confide in you, but you mustn’t tell anyone, because a young lady isn’t supposed to seek to know such things.—I think he loves me a little.

      ROSINE

      In that case, what are you worried about?

      ADELAIDE

      What am I worried about? Think that he will be far from me at the court—that he’ll see all the great ladies—some are so pretty. Madame du Barry, for example.

      ROSINE

      You don’t know her.

      ADELAIDE

      It’s all the same. They say such bad things about her that it scare me. And if all the bad things are true, Madame du Barry must be very beautiful.

      FAT JOHN (outside)

      Ah, fine, for goodness sake! So this is the way they receive me. Ah, nice! It’s real nice!

      ADELAIDE

      Why isn’t that the voice of Fat John?

      ROSINE

      Yes, it’s really him, Miss—the milk-brother of the Marquis. He’s coming from Brunoy.

      FAT JOHN

      Ah—this is the way my milk-brother shows me friendship.

      ADELAIDE

      Hello, Fat John, hello, my friend.

      FAT JOHN

      I’m indeed your servant, Miss Adelaide—very good day, Miss Rosine, if I’d known—heck, I wouldn’t have come to Versailles.

      ROSINE

      What’s wrong with you Fat John, you’re all ruffled up?

      FAT JOHN

      What’s wrong with me? You see, they were saying in the village that the Marquis was going to see the King. In the country they call me imbecile, they say I’ll never amount to anything. Right, I said to myself—you will see. So I got all dressed up to come see your cousin, that my mother nursed when I was young—he’ll refuse me nothing. Hey, a man with the same milk as me.

      ADELAIDE

      And what do you want with him?

      FAT JOHN

      So as to make my fortune, I wanted him to bring me with him to the court.

      ADELAIDE

      Ha, ha, ha. That’s a great idea.

      FAT JOHN

      No so great. Not at all. I arrived downstairs, I found him with the Countess, his aunt—who was climbing into the carriage. Would you believe he didn’t want to let me go with him? To make my fortune—he refused my hand saying I was going to soil his cuffs.

      ADELAIDE and ROSINE (laughing)

      Ha, ha, ha.

      FAT JOHN

      Why, it’s nothing to laugh about. It’s all very sad. It’s the height of ingratitude—because, once again, my mother nursed him—to my detriment—because I would easily have consumed all, and by relation to him, I remained famished.

      Not that I reproach him—But when small I was his brother. The Marquis, I feel, was my equal on my mother’s breast. Now that wine is our thing, we can, after a meal, drink from the same bottle without shame, because, when we were nursing, we drank from the same source.

      ADELAIDE

      Console yourself, my poor lad—he’s going to see you at Brunoy, and make