Three Plays - BestLightNovel.com
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It was an accident.
HENRY IV. They all said I was mad before. (_To Belcredi_): And you know it! You were more ferocious than any one against those who tried to defend me.
BELCREDI. Oh, that was only a joke!
HENRY IV. Look at my hair! (_Shows him the hair on the nape of his neck_).
BELCREDI. But mine is grey too!
HENRY IV. Yes, with this difference: that mine went grey here, as Henry IV., do you understand? And I never knew it!
I perceived it all of a sudden, one day, when I opened my eyes; and I was terrified because I understood at once that not only had my hair gone grey, but that I was all grey, inside; that everything had fallen to pieces, that everything was finished; and I was going to arrive, hungry as a wolf, at a banquet which had already been cleared away....
BELCREDI. Yes, but, what about the others?...
HENRY IV. (_quickly_). Ah, yes, I know! They couldn't wait until I was cured, not even those, who, behind my back, p.r.i.c.ked my saddled horse till it bled....
DI NOLLI (_agitated_). What, what?
HENRY IV. Yes, treacherously, to make it rear and cause me to fall.
DONNA MATILDA (_quickly, in horror_). This is the first time I knew that.
HENRY IV. That was also a joke, probably!
DONNA MATILDA. But who did it? Who was behind us, then?
HENRY IV. It doesn't matter who it was. All those that went on feasting and were ready to leave me their sc.r.a.pings, Marchioness, of miserable pity, or some dirty remnant of remorse in the filthy plate! Thanks! (_Turning quickly to the doctor_): Now doctor, the case must be absolutely new in the history of madness; I preferred to remain mad--since I found everything ready and at my disposal for this new exquisite fantasy. I would live it--this madness of mine--with the most lucid consciousness; and thus revenge myself on the brutality of a stone which had dinted my head.
The solitude--this solitude--squalid and empty as it appeared to me when I opened my eyes again--I determined to deck it out with all the colours and splendors of that far off day of carnival, when you (_looks at Donna Matilda and points Frida out to her_) when you, Marchioness, triumphed.
So I would oblige all those who were around me to follow, by G.o.d, at my orders that famous pageant which had been--for you and not for me--the jest of a day. I would make it become--for ever--no more a joke but a reality, the reality of a real madness: here, all in masquerade, with throne room, and these my four secret counsellors: secret and, of course, traitors. (_He turns quickly towards them_). I should like to know what you have gained by revealing the fact that I was cured! If I am cured, there's no longer any need of_you_, and you will be discharged! To give anyone one's confidence ... that is really the act of a madman. But now I accuse you in my turn (_turning to the others_)! Do you know? They thought (_alludes to the valets_) they could make fun of me too with you (_bursts out laughing. The others laugh, but shamefacedly, except Donna Matilda_).
BELCREDI (_to Di Nolli_). Well, imagine that.... That's not bad....
DI NOLLI (_to the four young men_). You?
HENRY IV. We must pardon them. This dress (_plucking his dress_) which is for me the evident, involuntary caricature of that other continuous, everlasting masquerade, of which we are the involuntary puppets (_indicates Belcredi_) when, without knowing it, we mask ourselves with that which we appear to be ... ah, that dress of theirs, this masquerade of theirs, of course, we must forgive it them, since they do not yet see it is identical with themselves. (_Turning again to Belcredi_): You know, it is quite easy to get accustomed to it. One walks about as a tragic character, just as if it were nothing ... (_Imitates the tragic manner_) in a room like this.... Look here, doctor! I remember a priest, certainly Irish, a nice-looking priest, who was sleeping in the sun one November day, with his arm on the corner of the bench of a public garden. He was lost in the golden delight of the mild sunny air which must have seemed for him almost summery. One may be sure that in that moment he did not know any more that he was a priest, or even where he was. He was dreaming... A little boy pa.s.sed with a flower in his hand.
He touched the priest with it here on the neck. I saw him open his laughing eyes, while all his mouth smiled with the beauty of his dream. He was forgetful of everything.... But all at once, he pulled himself together, and stretched out his priest's ca.s.sock; and there came back to his eyes the same seriousness which you have seen in mine; because the Irish priests defend the seriousness of their Catholic faith with the same zeal with which I defend the secret rights of hereditary monarchy! I am cured, gentlemen: because I can act the mad man to perfection, here; and I do it very quietly, I'm only sorry for you that have to live your madness so agitatedly, without knowing it or seeing it.
BELCREDI. It comes to this, then, that it is we who are mad.
That's what it is!
HENRY IV. (_containing his irritation_). But if you weren't mad, both you and she (_indicating the Marchioness_) would you have come here to see me?
BELCREDI. To tell the truth, I came here believing that you were the madman.
HENRY IV. (_suddenly indicating the Marchioness_). And she?
BELCREDI. Ah, as for her ... I can't say. I see she is all fascinated by your words, by this _conscious_ madness of yours. (_Turns to her_). Dressed as you are (_speaking to her_), you could even remain here to live it out, Marchioness.
DONNA MATILDA. You are insolent!
HENRY IV. (_conciliatingly_). No, Marchioness, what he means to say is that the miracle would be complete, according to him, with you here, who--as the Marchioness of Tuscany, you well know,--could not be my friend, save, as at Canossa, to give me a little pity....
BELCREDI. Or even more than a little! She said so herself!
HENRY IV. (_to the Marchioness, continuing_). And even, shall we say, a little remorse!...
BELCREDI. Yes, that too she has admitted.
DONNA MATILDA (_angry_). Now look here....
HENRY IV. (_quickly, to placate her_). Don't bother about him! Don't mind him! Let him go on infuriating me--though the doctor's told him not to. (_Turns to Belcredi._): But do you suppose I am going to trouble myself any more about what happened between us--the share you had in my misfortune with her (_indicates the Marchioness to him and, pointing Belcredi out to her_): the part he has now in your life?
This is my life! Quite a different thing from your life!
Your life, the life in which you have grown old--I have not lived that life (_to Donna Matilda_). Was this what you wanted to show me with this sacrifice of yours, dressing yourself up like this, according to the Doctor's idea?
Excellently done, doctor! Oh, an excellent idea:--"As we were then, eh? and as we are now?" But I am not a madman according to your way of thinking, doctor. I know very well that that man there (_indicates Di Nolli_) cannot be me; because I am Henry IV., and have been, these twenty years, cast in this eternal masquerade. She has lived these years (_indicates the Marchioness_)! She has enjoyed them and has become--look at her!--a woman I can no longer recognize. It is so that I knew her (_points to Frida and draws near her_)! This is the Marchioness I know, always this one!...
You seem a lot of children to be so easily frightened by me.... (_To Frida_): And you're frightened too, little girl, aren't you, by the jest that they made you take part in--though they didn't understand it wouldn't be the jest they meant it to be, for me? Oh miracle of miracles! Prodigy of prodigies! The dream alive in you! More than alive in you! It was an image that wavered there and they've made you come to life! Oh, mine! You're mine, mine, mine, in my own right! (_He holds her in his arms, laughing like a madman, while all stand still terrified. Then as they advance to tear Frida from his arms, he becomes furious, terrible and cries imperiously to his valets_): Hold them! Hold them! I order you to hold them!
(_The four young men amazed, yet fascinated, move to execute his orders, automatically, and seize Di Nolli, the doctor, and Belcredi._)
BELCREDI (_freeing himself_). Leave her alone! Leave her alone! You're no madman!
HENRY IV. (_In a flash draws the sword from the side of Landolph, who is close to him_). I'm not mad, eh! Take that, you!... (_Drives sword into him. A cry of horror goes up.
All rush over to a.s.sist Belcredi, crying out together_):
DI NOLLI. Has he wounded you?
BERTHOLD. Yes, yes, seriously!
DOCTOR. I told you so!
FRIDA. Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d!
DI NOLLI. Frida, come here!
DONNA MATILDA. He's mad, mad!
DI NOLLI. Hold him!
BELCREDI (_while they take him away by the left exit, he protests as he is borne out_). No, no, you're not mad!
You're not mad. He's not mad!
(_They go out by the left amid cries and excitement. After a moment, one hears a still sharper, more piercing cry from Donna Matilda, and then, silence_).
HENRY IV. (_who has remained on the stage between Landolph, Harold and Ordulph, with his eyes almost starting out of his head, terrified by the life of his own masquerade which has driven him to crime_). Ah now ... yes now ... inevitably (_calls his valets around him as if to protect him_) here together ... here together ... for ever ... for ever.
_Curtain._
NOTE TO "HENRY IV."