Scene II
A magnificent drawing-room in which people are making preparations for a festival. Phœbus, Fleur-de-lys, Madame Aloise De Gondelaurier
MADAME ALOISE.
Phœbus, my future son-in-law, listen to me. I am fond of you.
Be master here, as if you were another self.
Look to it that every one is gay to-night.
And you, my daughter, come, get ready.
You will be the most beautiful at this festival,
Be also the most happy.
[She goes up stage and gives orders to the servants, who continue the preparations.
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
Sir, since the other week,
We have hardly seen you twice!
This festival brings you back.
How fortunate for us!
PHŒBUS.
Don’t scold, I beg of you!
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
I understand. Phœbus forgets me!
PHŒBUS.
I swear to you—
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
Don’t swear!
They only swear who deceive.
PHŒBUS.
Forget you? What folly!
Are you not the most fair?
Am I not the most loving?
PHŒBUS (aside).
My beautiful betrothed
Is out of sorts to-day;
Suspicion is in her mind.
What a pity!
Beauties, the lovers you treat ill
Go elsewhere.
You can do more with pleasure
Than with tears.
FLEUR-DE-LYS (aside).
To betray me, his betrothed,
Who belong to him!
I, who have only him to think of
And worry about!
Ah! whether he is away or here,
What grief!
Present, he scorns my joy;
Absent, my tears.
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
Phœbus, the scarf that I worked for you—
What have you done with it? I don’t see it.
PHŒBUS (troubled).
The scarf? I don’t know!
[Aside.] Good God! unlucky chance!
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
You forgot it?
[Aside.]To whom has he given it?
And for whom am I deserted?
MADAME ALOISE (coming up to them and trying to reconcile them).
Heavens! get married! Then you can quarrel.
PHŒBUS (to Fleur-de-lys).
No! I have not forgotten it.
I remember, I carefully folded it
And put it in an enameled box
That I had made for it.
[Passionately to Fleur-de-lys, who still frets.
I swear I love you better
Than one could love Venus herself!
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
Don’t swear! Don’t swear!
They only swear who deceive!
MADAME ALOISE.
Children, don’t quarrel—everything is bright to-day!
Come, my daughter, you must be seen!
The guests are coming! Everything has its turn.
[To the servants.] Light the candles and let the ball begin.
I want everything to be beautiful, to seem as bright as day.
PHŒBUS.
Since we have Fleur-de-lys, nothing is wanting to the ball.
FLEUR-DE-LYS.
Yes, Phœbus—love is wanting! [They go out.
PHŒBUS (watching Fleur-de-lys go out).
She speaks the truth: my heart is sad
Even when she is near—
The one I love, the one who fills my soul—
Alas! she is not here.
Exquisite creature,
To you my love!
Oh, dancing shadow,
My sweet-voiced dove,
Absent, yet with me
Wherever I move!
She’s as bewildering and sweet
As is a nest ’mid rushes,
Sweet as a rosebud crowned with moss,
Sweet as the joy which sorrow hushes.
Humble child and virgin proud,
Soul that’s pure though free!
Voluptuous ardors sink abashed
Before thy chastity.
In the dark night she comes,
An angel from the skies;
Her forehead veiled by shadows,
Flames darting from her eyes.
I see her face forever—
Now bright, now dark it seems;
But strangely—’tis in heaven
I see her in these dreams.
Exquisite creature.
To you my love!
Oh, dancing shadow,
My sweet-voiced dove,
Absent, yet with me
Wherever I move!
[Enter several lords and ladies in gala dress.