Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe Part 27

_While Monsieur Feliat has been speaking, old Mother Bougne has come in from the right. She is a poor old workwoman who walks with difficulty, leaning on a broom, from which one feels that she never parts. She has a bunch of keys at her waistbelt; her ap.r.o.n is turned up and makes a sort of pocket into which she slips pieces of paper and sc.r.a.ps that she picks up from the floor. Rene looks at her with surprise._

FeLIAT. You're looking at Mother Bougne. Good-morning, Mother Bougne.

MOTHER BOUGNE. Good-morning, Monsieur Feliat.

FeLIAT. When does the Committee of your Union sit?

MOTHER BOUGNE. On Wednesday, Monsieur Feliat.

FeLIAT. You won't miss it, will you?

MOTHER BOUGNE. I haven't missed one up to now, Monsieur Feliat.

FeLIAT. That's right. [_She goes out at the back during what follows.

Monsieur Feliat turns to Rene and says_] We call Mother Bougne our Minister of the Interior, because she tries to keep the place tidy.

She's been a weaver near Rouen since she was eight years old; she's been stranded here.

RENe. And she's a member of the Committee of the Union?

GUeRET. Yes, she's a member. Therese insisted on it. When Therese founded a Woman's Trade Union here she had the nice idea of including among them this poor old creature, wrecked by misery and hard work. Our Therese has ideas like that. [_With a change of tone_] But business, business. What do you want us to do for you?

RENe. I've come to ask you two things. The first is to try to get round my people.

FeLIAT. Well, I'll try. But I know your father. He's even more obstinate than I am myself. I shan't make the smallest impression upon him. What else?

RENe. I want to have a talk with Therese in your presence.

FeLIAT. In our presence! Now listen, my boy. Our presence will be much more useful in the work rooms. We have our hands full here. You've dropped in just at the point of a split between workmen and employers.

Besides, to tell you the truth, I think I know pretty well what you have to say to Therese. I'll send her to you. And, look here, don't keep her too long, because she's got her hands full too. [_To Gueret_] Will you go and telephone to Duriot's?

GUeRET [_looking at his watch_] Yes, there might be some news. [_He goes out_]

FeLIAT [_to Rene_] And I'll send Therese here.

_He goes out and Rene is alone for a few moments. Then Therese comes in. They advance towards each other quietly._

THeReSE. How do you do, Rene?

RENe. How are you, Therese?

_They shake hands, then, giving way to their feelings, they kiss each other tenderly and pa.s.sionately._

THeReSE [_in a low voice_] That'll do; don't, Rene dear. [_She withdraws gently from his embrace_] Don't. Let's talk. Have you seen your people?

RENe. Yes.

THeReSE. Well?

RENe. Well, Therese, they won't come to our wedding.

THeReSE. They still refuse their consent?

RENe. We can do without it.

THeReSE. But they refuse it?

RENe. Yes. Forgive me, my dearest, for asking you to take just my own self. Do you love me enough to marry me quite simply, without any relations, since I leave my relations for your sake?

THeReSE. My dear, we mustn't do that; we must wait.

RENe. No, I won't wait. I won't lose the best time of my life, and years of happiness, for the sake of prejudices I don't believe in. Do you remember what you said to me the night we played _Barberine_? You were splendid. You said: "Marry me all the same, in spite of my poverty."

[_She makes a movement to stop him_] Oh, let me--please let me go on! I was only a miserable weakling then, I was frightened about the future.

But you roused me and set me going. If I'm a man now, it's to you I owe it. Thanks to you I know how splendid it is to trust one's self and struggle, and hope, and succeed. Now I can come to you and say: "I am the man you wanted me to be, let us marry and live together." Oh, together, together! How splendid it sounds! Do you remember how you said that night long ago: "Let us conquer our place in the world together"?

THeReSE. Oh, Rene! Rene! We must wait!

RENe. Why? Why must we wait? What possible reason can you have for not doing now what you wanted me to do a year ago? Don't you believe in me?

THeReSE. Oh yes, yes. It's not that!

RENe. What is it then? Therese, you frighten me. It seems as if you were hiding something from me.

THeReSE. No, no. What an idea!

RENe. Is it--oh, can it be that you don't love me so much?

THeReSE. Oh, Rene, no, no. Don't think that for a moment.

RENe. But you're not being straight with me. You're hiding something.

THeReSE. Don't ask me.

RENe. Therese!

THeReSE. Oh, please don't ask me!

RENe. Now, you know very well that's impossible. How can there be secrets between us? You and I are the sort of people who are straight with one another. I must have my share in everything that makes you unhappy.

THeReSE. Well, then, I must tell you. It's about your father and mother.

Oh, how I wish I needn't tell you. Rene, while you've been away your people have been dreadful to me. Your father came here to see me. He wanted me to swear never to see you again--never. Of course I wouldn't.

When I refused to give in he said it was through worldly wisdom. He said: "If he wasn't going to inherit my money, you wouldn't hang on to him like this." He dared to say that to me, Rene--your father whom I have always wanted to respect and love. He thought that of me. And then I swore to him, and I've sworn to myself, that I'll never marry you, never, without his consent. I cannot be suspected of _that_. You understand, don't you? The poorer I am the prouder I ought to be. [_She bursts into tears_] My dear--my dear! How unhappy I am! How dreadfully unhappy I am!

RENe. My darling! [_He kisses her_]

THeReSE. Don't, Rene! I couldn't help telling you. But you understand, my dearest, that we've got to wait until he knows me better.

RENe [_forcibly_] No. We will _not_ wait.