The Dramas of Victor Hugo: Mary Tudor, Marion de Lorme, Esmeralda Part 20

JANE.

Truth before life! Yes, madame.

THE QUEEN.

So, my lord, you do not know this woman?

FABIANI.

Madame, this is a conspiracy. I am surrounded by enemies. This woman is doubtless in league with them. I do not know her, madame! I do not even know who she is, madame!

THE QUEEN (_rising and striking him in the face with her glove_).

Ah, you are a coward! You betray one and disown the other! You don't even know who she is? Do you want me to tell you? This woman is Jane Talbot, daughter of John Talbot, the good Catholic lord who perished on the scaffold for my mother. This woman is Jane Talbot, my cousin: Jane Talbot, Countess of Shrewsbury, Countess of Wexford, Countess of Waterford, peeress of England. That is who she is, this woman! Lord Paget, you are commissioner of the private seal; you will remember our words. The Queen of England solemnly recognizes this woman here present, as Jane, daughter and sole heiress of the last Earl of Waterford. [_Showing the papers._] Here are the t.i.tles and the proofs, which you will have sealed with the great seal. It is our will.

[_To Fabiani_] Yes, Countess of Waterford, and it is proved! And you will give back her estates, you wretched man! Ah, you don't know this woman? You don't know who she is? Well, I am telling you! It is Jane Talbot. Shall I tell you more yet?

[_Looking him in the face, in a low voice, between her teeth._

Coward, she is your mistress!

FABIANI.

Madame!

THE QUEEN.

That is what she is! Now, this is what you are! You are a man without soul, a man without heart, a man without brains. You are a liar and a villain! You are--By my faith, gentlemen, you need not draw away. I am quite willing you should hear what I have to say to this man. I am not lowering my voice, it seems to me. Fabiano, you are a wretch; a traitor to me, a coward to her; a lying lackey, the most vile, the lowest of all men. Yet it is true, I made you Earl of Clanbra.s.sil, Baron of Dinasmonddy and what more? Baron of Darmouth in Devons.h.i.+re.

Ah, well! I was an idiot! My lords, I ask your pardon for having forced you to be elbowed by that man there. You, a knight! you, a n.o.ble! you, a lord! Compare yourself a little with those who are such. Look! look around you! There stand n.o.blemen. There is Bridges, Baron Chandos; there is Seymour, Duke of Somerset. There are the Stanleys, who have been Earls of Derby since 1485. There are the Clintons, who have been barons since 1298. Do you imagine you are like these people--you? You say that you are allied to the Spanish family of Penalver, but it is not true; you are only a bad Italian.

Nothing--worse than nothing! Son of a shoemaker in the village of Larino! Yes, gentlemen, the son of a shoemaker! I knew it, and I did not tell it; I concealed it, and I made believe I credited this man when he talked about his n.o.bility. That is the way we are, we women.

Oh, Heaven! I wish there were women here; it would be a lesson to them all. This scoundrel! this scoundrel! he betrays one woman and disowns the other. Infamous creature! Oh, yes, indeed you are infamous. What! I have been speaking all this time and he is not yet on his knees? On your knees, Fabiani! My lords, force this man to kneel!

FABIANI.

Your Majesty--

THE QUEEN.

This creature whom I have loaded with benefits! this Neapolitan lackey whom I have made a n.o.ble knight and a proud earl of England.

Ah, I ought to have expected this! But I am always like that; I am obstinate, and afterward I see that I am wrong. It is my fault.

Italian stands for liar: Neapolitan for coward. Every time that my father made use of an Italian, he repented of it. This Fabiani! You see Lady Jane, unfortunate child, to what a man you have surrendered yourself! But I will avenge you. Oh, I ought to have known it from the first. You will find nothing in an Italian's pocket but a stiletto, nothing in his soul but treachery.

FABIANI.

Madame, I swear to you--

THE QUEEN.

Good! Now he will perjure himself; he will descend to the depths of infamy; he will make us blush to our finger-tips before these men--we women who have loved him. He will not even lift up his head!

FABIANI.

Yes, madame, I will lift it up! I am lost; I see it clearly. My death is decided. You will make use of every means, dagger, poison--

THE QUEEN (_taking hold of both his hands and dragging him violently to the front of the stage_).

Poison! Dagger! What are you saying, Italian? A treacherous vengeance, a disgraceful vengeance--a vengeance from the back, a vengeance such as you take in your country? No, Signor Fabiani, neither dagger nor poison. Do I have to conceal myself? Do I have to hide in the corners of the street at night and make myself small when I want revenge? No, by my faith, I want the daylight! Do you hear, my lord?--the full noonday, the bright sun, the public square, the ax and the stake, the crowds in the street, the crowds at the windows, the crowds on the roofs! A hundred thousand witnesses! I want people to be afraid, do you hear, my lord? I want them to think it splendid, frightful, magnificent. I want them to say, "It is a woman who has been wronged, but it is a Queen who takes revenge!" This much envied favorite, this handsome, insolent young man, whom I have dressed in velvets and satins, I want to see him bent double, terrified and trembling, on his knees before a black cloth, with naked feet, with manacled wrists, hissed by the people, fingered by the executioner.

On this white neck, where I have put a golden collar, I want to put a rope. I have seen how Fabiani looks upon a throne, I want to see how he looks upon a scaffold.

FABIANI.

Madame--

THE QUEEN.

Not a word! Not a word! You are indeed lost, as you say. You will mount the scaffold as did Suffolk and Northumberland. This will be a festival such as I have given before to my good city of London. You know how she hates you, this good city of mine! Faith, when one wants vengeance, it's a good thing to be Mary, Queen of England, daughter of Henry VIII. and mistress of four seas. When you are on the scaffold, you can make a long speech to the people, if you like, as Northumberland did, or a long prayer to G.o.d, as Suffolk did, in order to give pardon the time to arrive; but G.o.d is my witness that you are a traitor, and the pardon will not come. This wretched liar who talked of love to me, and this morning even said "thou" to me--Eh, gentlemen, it seems to amaze you that I talk thus openly before you; but I repeat it, what do I care?

[_To Lord Somerset._] My lord duke, you are constable of the Tower; demand this man's sword!

FABIANI.

Here it is; but I protest. Admitting that it is proved that I deceived or seduced a woman--

THE QUEEN.

What does it matter to me whether you have seduced a woman? Do I concern myself about that? These gentlemen are witnesses, it is a matter of indifference to me!

FABIANI.

The seduction of a woman is not a capital offense, madame. Your Majesty could not procure Frogmorton's condemnation upon the same accusation!

THE QUEEN.

I believe he defies us now! The worm has become a serpent. Who says you are accused of that?

FABIANI.

Of what else am I accused? I am not an Englishman; I am no subject of your Majesty. I am a subject of the King of Naples and a va.s.sal of the Holy Father. I will appeal to his emba.s.sador, the eminent Cardinal Polus, to save me. I will defend myself, madame. I am a stranger! I cannot be tried unless I have committed a crime--a real crime. What is my crime?

THE QUEEN.

You ask what your crime is?

FABIANI.

Yes, madame.

THE QUEEN.