Comedy of Marriage and Other Tales

Musotte's _bedroom, neatly furnished, but without luxury. Disordered bed stands_ L. _A screen stands_ L. I. E., _almost hiding_ Musotte, _who lies stretched at length upon a steamer-chair. Beside the bed is a cradle, the head of which is turned up stage. On the mantelpiece and on small tables at_ R. _and_ L. _are vials of medicine, cups, chafing-dish, etc. A table stands_, R. I. E. Musotte _is sleeping_. La Babin _and_ Mme. Flache _stand_ C. _looking at her_.

LA BABIN [_in low tones_]

How she sleeps!

Mme. FLACHE [_in the same voice_]

But she will not sleep long now, unless she is going into her last sleep.

La Babin. Oh, there is no chance of that. That is enough to give one the horrors. Fancy losing one's life for a child!

Mme. Flache. But how can you prevent it? Death is as necessary as birth, or the world would become too small for us all.

LA BABIN [_sits_ R. _of table_]

All people ought to die in the same way and at the same age--every one of us; then one would know what to expect.

Mme. FLACHE [_pours out some tea_]

What simple ideas you have, Madame Babin! Personally, I would rather not know the hour of my death. I would sooner finish my life while sleeping in the middle of the night--during slumber--without suffering--by a sudden failure of the heart.

La Babin. Look at the sick woman. How silly of her to wish to rest upon that steamer-chair as she has done. The doctor told her plainly that such an effort would probably finish her.

Mme. FLACHE [_sits_ L. _of table_]

Oh, I understand her motive. When a girl like her has a lover she commits every kind of folly, and more especially, nurse, when they are at all coquettish; but you country people do not know anything about such things. They are coquettish through and through. That is the reason she wished to look her prettiest. She was afraid of being thought ugly, don't you understand? So I had to put on her _peignoir_, and tidy her up, and arrange her hair just as I have done.

La Babin. Oh, these Parisians! It is necessary that they should have a hairdresser even to the last gasp! [_A short silence_.] But will this gentleman of hers come?

Mme. Flache. I do not think so. Men are not overfond of obeying the calls of their former mistresses at such times, and then, this lover of hers was married to-day, poor fellow!

La Babin. Well, that is a joke.

Mme. Flache. I should say so.

La Babin. Certainly, then, he won't come. In such a case would _you_ go to see a man?

Mme. Flache. Oh, if I loved him very much I should go.

La Babin. Even if you were marrying another the same day?

Mme. Flache. Just the same. For such a combination of circumstances would pierce my heart; would penetrate me with a strong emotion,--and, oh, I am so fond of such emotions!

La Babin. Well, so far as I am concerned, I certainly would not go. I should be too much afraid of the shock.

Mme. Flache. But Doctor Pellerin asserts that the man will come.

La Babin. Do you know this physician well?

Mme. Flache. Who, Doctor Pellerin?

La Babin. Yes; he has the air of a charming man of the world.

Mme. Flache. Oh, yes; he is all that, but he is also a good physician. Then he is such good company, and has such a smooth tongue. And you know he is not physician to the Opera for nothing.

La Babin. That little puppy of a--

Mme. Flache. A puppy! You don't very often find puppies among men of his caliber, and then,-oh, how he used to love the girls! Oh, oh! Although, for the matter of that, there are many physicians who are like him. It was at the Opera that I first met him.

La Babin. At the Opera!

Mme. Flache. Yes, at the Opera. You know, I was a dancer there for eight years. Yes, indeed, even I--just as you see me, a dancer at the Opera.

La Babin. You, Madame Flache!

Mme. Flache. Yes, my mother was a midwife, and taught me the business at the same time that she taught me dancing, because she always said it was well to have two strings to your bow. Dancing, you see, is all very well, provided you are not too ambitious of appearing on first nights, but, unhappily, that was the case with me. I was as slender as a thread when I was twenty, and very agile, but I grew fat and scant of breath, and became rather heavy in my steps; so when my mother died, as I had my diploma as a midwife, I took her apartment and her business, and I added the title of “Midwife to the Opera,” for all their business comes to me. They like me very much there. When I was dancing, they used to call me Mademoiselle Flacchi the première.

La Babin. Then you have been married since then?

Mme. Flache. No, but a woman in my profession should always assume the title of Madame for the sake of its dignity. You know, it gives confidence. But, how about you, nurse, from what place do you come? You know, you have only just come here, and nobody consulted me about engaging you.

La Babin. I am from Yvetot.

Mme. Flache. Is this your first engagement as a nurse?

La Babin. No, my third. I have had two daughters and a little boy.

Mme. Flache. And your husband, is he a farmer or a gardener?

LA BABIN [_Simply_]

I am not married.

Mme. FLACHE [_laughing_]

Not married, and with three children! Upon my word, let me compliment you; you are indeed precocious.

La Babin. Don't talk about it; it was not my will. It is the good God who does these things. One cannot prevent it.

Mme. Flache. How simple you are! Now you will probably have a fourth child.

La Babin. That's very possible.

Mme. Flache. Well, what does your lover do? What is his business? Or perhaps you have more than one?

LA BABIN [_with indignation_]

There has never been more than one. I give you my word, upon my hope of salvation. He is a lemonade-seller at Yvetot.

Mme. Flache. Is he a handsome fellow?

La Babin. I believe you, indeed! He is handsome! [_Confidentially_.] If I tell you all this, it is only because you are a midwife, and a midwife in such affairs as this is like a priest in the confessional. But you, Madame Flache, you, who have been a dancer at the Opera, you must also have had, surely--little love affairs--little intrigues?

Mme. FLACHE [_evidently flattered, and in a dreamy tone_]

Oh, yes, one or two!

LA BABIN [_laughs_]

And have you never had--this sort of accident? [_Points to the cradle_.]

Mme. Flache. No.

La Babin. How did that come?

Mme. FLACHE [_rises and approaches the mantelpiece_]

Probably because I was a midwife.

La Babin. Well, I know one in your profession who has had five.

Mme. FLACHE [_with contempt_]

She evidently did not come from Paris.

La Babin. That's true; she came from Courbevoie.

MUSOTTE [_in a feeble voice_] Is no one there?

Mme. Flache. She is awakening. There, there! [_Folds up the screen which hides the long steamer-chair_.]

Musotte. Hasn't he come yet?

Mme. Flache. No.

Musotte. He will arrive too late--my God! My God!

Mme. Flache. What an idea! He will come.

Musotte. And my little darling--my child?

Mme. Flache. He is sleeping like an angel.

MUSOTTE [_after looking at herself in a hand-mirror_]

I must not look like this when he comes. Oh, God! Bring my child--I want to see him.

Mme. Flache. But if I show him to you he will wake up, and who knows if he will go to sleep again.

Musotte. Bring the cradle here. [_A gesture of refusal from_ Mme Flache.] Yes, yes! I insist, [Mme. Flache _and the nurse gently bring the cradle to her_.] Nearer, nearer, so that I can see him well--the darling! My child, my child! And I am going to leave him! Soon I shall disappear into the unknown. Oh. God, what agony!

Mme. Flache. Now don't go worrying yourself like that; you are not as ill as you think. I have seen lots worse than you. Come, come! you are going to recover. Take away the cradle, nurse. [_They put the cradle again in its place; then to the nurse_.] That will do, that will do. Watch me. You know very well that it is only I who can quiet it. [_Sits near the cradle, and sings a lullaby while rocking it_.]

“A little gray fowl Came into the barn, To lay a big egg For the good boy that sleeps. Go to sleep, go to sleep, My little chicken! Go to sleep, sleep, my chick!”

LA BABIN [_stands near the end of the mantelpiece, drinks the sugared water, and slips loaf sugar into her pocket; aside_]

I must not forget the main thing. I have just seen in the kitchen the remains of a leg of mutton, to which I should like to go and say a few words. I am breaking in two with hunger just now.

Mme. FLACHE [_sings softly_]

“A little black fowl Came into the room, To lay a big egg For the good boy that sleeps. Sleep, sleep, my little chicken, Sleep, oh, sleep, my chick!”

MUSOTTE [_from the long chair, after moaning several times_]

Has he gone to sleep again?

Mme. FLACHE [_goes toward_ Musotte]

Yes, Mademoiselle, just as if he were a little Jesus. Do you wish to know what I think about him, this young man lying here? You will lead him to the altar for his marriage. He is a jewel, like yourself, my dear.

Musotte. Do you really think him pretty?

Mme. Flache. On the honor of a midwife, I have seldom brought into the world one so pretty. It is a pleasure to know that one has brought to the light such a little Cupid as he is.

Musotte. And to think that in a few hours, perhaps, I shall see him no more; look at him no more; love him no more!

Mme. Flache. Oh, no, no! You are talking unreasonably.

Musotte. Ah, I know it too well! I heard you talking with the nurse. I know that the end is very near; this night, perhaps. Would the doctor have written to Jean to come and see me on this evening--the evening of his marriage--if I were not at the point of death? [_The bell rings_. Musotte _utters a cry_.] Ah, there he is! it is he! Quick! quick! Oh, God, how I suffer! [_Exit_ Mme. Flache C. Musotte _gazes after her. Enter_ Dr. Pellerin, _in evening clothes_.]