ILLINOI S UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN PRODUCTION NOTE University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library Brittle Books Project, 2012. COPYRIGHT NOTIFICATION In Public Domain. Published prior to 1923. This digital copy was made from the printed version held by the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. It was made in compliance with copyright law. Prepared for the Brittle Books Project, Main Library, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign by Northern Micrographics Brookhaven Bindery La Crosse, Wisconsin 2012 _I I 1-- OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 845M126 LAe61 p I C THE SCOTT LIBRARY. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA AND THE SIGHTLESS. ** FOR FULL LIST OF THE VOLUMES IN THIS SERIES, SEE CATALOGUE AT END OF BOOK. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA, AND THE SIGHTLESS Two PLAYS BY MAURICE MAETERLINCK. TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY LAURENCE ALMA TADEMA LONDON: WALTER SCOTT, LTD. PATERNOSTER SQUARE TO THE READER. The following translations were undertaken for a twofold reason, and that a selfsk one: because it is joy to live awhile very' close to the thought of another, when that other is a lightgiver: because it is joy to place within the reach of certain of one's fellows what one believes to be admirable and good. Yet, in offering to those who have not read the original,an English version of two of Maurice Maeterlinck's plays, I feel as one that, having marvelled at a rose in the garden, should poorly " fashion its image in paper to give to his friend. -I should have preferred to place the volume in your hands without so much as a -word of apology for its many obvious and more or less " inevitable shortcomings; but the laws of the "Scott Library" forbid the silence I desire, and Soblige me to add a few prefatory words. 5 TO THE READER. iMaurice Maeterlinck was born at Ghent on A ugust 29th, 1862 ; his published works- are as follows :-SERRES CHAUDES (a small volume of verse), 1889. LA PRINCESSE MALEINE (a prose drama in five acts), 1890. LES AVEUIGLFs (two prose dramas in one act, entitled respectively " L'INTRUSE " and " LES AVEUGLES "), L'ORNEMENT 1890. DES NOCES SPIRITUELLES (trans- lated from the Flemish of Van Ruysbroeck, and by an Introduction), 189 r. preceded LES SEPT PRINCESSES (a prose drama in one act), 1891. PELLEAS ET MIELISANDE (a prose dranma in five acts), 1892. ALLADINE ET PALOMIDES : MORT DE TINTAGILES INTERIEUR : (three LA short prose dramaspublished in the same volume), 1894. LES DISCIPLES A SAiS ET LES FRAGMENTS DE NOVALIS (translated from the German and preceded by an Introduction), 1895. A translation of one of the masterpieces of 6 TO THE READER. Enlrgish literature should perklaps be added to this list; a tragedy of Join Ford's, adaptedfor representationby the " T/hetre de l' " last (Euvre winter, under the title of "Annabella." As regards the future, we may expect in the autumn of this year a new volume, entitled "Le Tre'sor des Humbles." Beyond this, it seems to me that nothing need be said. The bulk of Maurice Maeterlinck's work has been written in prose, but he is pre-eminently a poet, one who- rofoundly conscious of life's mystery-seeks to draw near the unapproached, to see the unseen, to hear the unheard, to express the inexpressible.-Iffull andfairjudgment of a poet's work depended on the intelligence merely, it mnght be profitablefor one who knew it well to take it carefully to p:eces, to consider the beauties and the blemishes of its workmanship, and, clearly ascertaining the cause of every effect, thus help others to a rightful understandingof the whole. But a is, of all men, he that draws nearest to poet the soul of things ; and in seeking to understand 7 TO THE REA DER. what concerns the soul, nothing avails but the soul itself We live within the shadow of a veil that no man's hand can lift. Some are born near it, as it were, and pass their lives striving to peer through its web; catching now and again visions of inexplicable things; but some of us live so far from the veil that we not only deny its existence, but delight in mocking those that perceive what we cannot.-And yet we know and acknowledge that our perceptions of things material and positive are bounded by the nature of our senses.-Ifyou and I were standing on a height together, we both should be able to realise that the grass was dewy at our feet, that the. wind blew from the west, that the sky above us was cloudless and serene. Yet, beyond the village in the valley, it might chance that you saw nothing clearly, neither the silver river, nor the spire half-way up the hill, nor the misty peaks beyond. And whilst I stood gazing at what for you existed not, the passing swallow's highest note, the shrill cry of the grasshopper,a hundred TO 7rrE READER. insect-voices at our feet, might reach your ears and never pierce my silence. Nor, if we spent the whole day there, seeking to share perceptions, should I be able to make you see, nor you to make me hear, beyond the limits of our senses. The soul has senses as the body has; and it seems to me that the work of a poet-so he walk hand in hand with truth, revealing unto us as best he may the face she shows him--asks to be accepted or rejected in silence. For the nearer he stand to the veil, the keener his ears to catch life's whispers, and the more vibrating his sensibility to the analogies that bind together the seen and the unseen, the more impossible it must become to weigh the value of what he gives us, since the only proof of its truth is the comprehension-here or there, partial or entire-of some similar or kindred soul. It has been affirmed in print, by one possibly unconscious of his own malformation, that Maurice Maeterlinck is a hopeless mental cripple; it has also been written that a certain work of his is a masterpiece pure and eternal, sufficient of 9 TO THE READER. itself to immortalise his name, a name that must ever be blessed by those that hunger after what is great and beautiful. Both critics were eminent, and sincere. I should like to add that the song in Act III. of "Pelleas and Melisanda" kas been inserted at the author's request instead of that which appeared in the orzginal. I should also like to remind you once again that what you have before you is merely a paper flower without perfume. I only hope that it may leadyou to delight in that of which the following pages are so poor a counterfeit. IO0 Pelleas ad Melisanda. Persons. ARKEL, King of Allemonde. GENEVIEVE, Mother of Pelleas and Golaud. PELLEAS, P Grandsons of Arkd. GOLAUD, MELISANDA. LITTLE YNIOLD, Son of Golaud by marriage. A DOCTOR. THE DOOR-KEEPER. MAID-SERVANTS, BEGGARS, ETC. a previous Act I. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. ACT I. SCENE I. The Castle Door. THE MAID-SERVANTS [within]. Open the door ! Open the door! THE DOOR-KEEPER [within]. Who is there? waked me? Why have you come and Out by the little doors, out by the little doors; there are enough of them ! . A SERVANT [within]. We have come to wash the door-stone, the door and the steps; open ! open ! ANOTHER SERVANT [within]. There are to be great doings ! 15 Act i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. [within]. THIRD SERVANT There are to be great merry-makings ! quickly! . Open ALL THE SERVANTS. Open ! open ! THE DOOR-KEEPER. I don't know that I shall be Wait! wait! able to open opened ... the door . . It never is Wait until daylight comes . FIRST SERVANT. It is light enough outside; I can see the suri through the chinks . THE DOOR-KEEPER. Here are the big keys . .. Oh! oh! how they grate, the bolts and the locks ! ... me! help me ! ALL THE SERVANTS. We are pulling, we are pulling . SECOND It will not open . . . SERVANT. Help PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. i. FIRST SERVANT. Ah! ah! It is opening! It is opening slowly ! THE DOOR-KEEPER. How it creaks! It will wake the whole house ... SECOND SERVANT [appearingon the threshold]. Oh! how light it is already out of doors! FIRST SERVANT. The sun is rising on the sea ! THE DOOR-KEEPER. It is open . . . It is wide open! . [All the Maid-servants appear on the threshold, which they cross.] FIRST SERVANT. I shall begin by washing the door-stone. SECOND SERVANT. We shall never be able to clean all this. 17 2 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act i. OTHER SERVANTS. Bring water ! bring water ! THE DOOR-KEEPER. Yes, yes; pour water, pour water, pour out all the waters of the flood; you will never be able to do it . . SCENE II. A Forest. [MELISANDA is discovered beside a spring. Enter GOLAUD.] GOLAUD. I shall never find my way out of the forest again led me. Heaven knows where that beast has I thought I had wounded it to death; and here are traces of blood. Yet now I have lost sight of it; I think I am lost myself-and my dogs cannot find me. I8 I shall retrace my PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. ii. steps . .- I think I hear some one crying Oh! oh! what is that at the water's edge-? . A little maid weeping [He coughs.] at the water's edge? She seems not to hear me. cannot see her face. I [He draws nearer and touches MELISANDA on the shoulder.] Why are you crying? [MELISANDA starts and prepares to run away.] Fear nothing. You have nothing to fear. Why are you crying here, all alone? MELISANDA. Do not touch me! do not touch me! GOLAUD. Fear nothing. .. I shall not do you . Oh! you are beautiful! MELISANDA. Do not touch me! do not touch me! or I shall throw myself into the water ! . .. GOLAUD. I am not touching you . . . See, I shall stand 19 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. here, right against the tree. afraid. Act i. You must not be Has some one hurt you? MELISANDA. Oh! yes ! yes! yes ! [She sobs profoundly.] GOLAUD. Who was it that hurt you ? MELISANDA. All of them ! all of them ! GOLAUD. How did they hurt you? MELISANDA. I will not tell ! I cannot tell ! GOLAUD. Come; you must not cry so. you come from ? MELISANDA. I ran away ! I ran away ! 20 Where have Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAUD. Yes; but from where did you run away? MELISANDA. I am lost! I . . . lost! . don't belong here . Oh! lost here... . . . I way n r horn there . . GOLAUD. Where do you come from ? Where were you born ? MELISANDA. Oh ! oh! far from here . . . far . . . far . GOLAUD. What is it that shines so at the bottom of the water ? MELISANDA. Where ?-Ah! that is the crown he gave me. It fell in crying . . . GOLAUD. A crown ?-Who gave you a crown ?-I will try to reach it . . . 21 Act i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. No, no; I don't want it! I don't want it! . I had sooner die . . . die at once .. . GOLAUD. I could easily take it out. The water is not very deep. MELISANDA. I don't want it ! If you take it out, I shall throw myself in instead! .. GOLAUD. No, no; I shall leave it there. It could be reached without trouble, however. It seems to be a very fine crown.-Is it long since you ran away ? MELISANDA. Yes, yes . .. Who are you? GOLAUD. I am the Prince Golaud-grandson of Arkel, the old King of Allemonde . MELISANDA. Oh! you have got grey hairs already . . 22 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAUD. Yes; a few, here, at the temples . MELISANDA. And your beard too . . . Why are you looking at me in that way ? GOLAUD. I am looking at your eyes. Do you never close your eyes ? MELISANDA. Yes, yes; I close them at night . . . GOLAUD. Why do you look so astonished? MELISAN D.A. Are you a giant? GOLAUD. I am a man like other men . MELISANDA. Why did you come here ? 23 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act i. GOLAUD. I don't know myself. forest. I was hunting in the I was pursuing a boar. way.-You look very young. I missed my How old are you ? MELISANDA. I am beginning to feel cold . . GOLAUD. Will you come with me ? MELISANDA. No, no; I shall stay here . GOLAUD. You cannot stay here all alone. You cannot stay here all night . . . What is your name? MELISANDA. Melisanda. GOLAUD. You will be afraid, all alone. what there all alone . .. may be it is One cannot tell here . . . all not possible. come, give me your hand . .. 24 night . . . Melisanda, Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. Oh! do not touch me! . GOLAUD. You must not cry touch you again. out ... I shall Only come with me. night will be very dark and very cold. not The Come with me . MELISANDA. Which way arc you going ? GOLAUD. I don't know .. . Itoo am lost . [Exeunt.] SCENE III. A Hall in the Castle. [ARKEL and GENEVIEVE are discovered.] GENEVIEVE. This is what he writes to his brother Pelleas : 25 Act i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. -" One evening, I found her all in tears beside a spring, in the forest where I had lost my way. I neither know her age, nor who she is, nor whence she comes, and I dare not question her, for she must have had some great fright; and whenever she is asked what happened, she bursts out crying like a child, and sobs so profoundly that one is afraid. Just as I came upon her beside the spring, a golden crown had slipped from her hair and had fallen into the depths of the water. She was, moreover, dressed like a princess, although her garments had been torn in the briars. It is now six months since I married her, and I know no more than on the day of our meeting. Meantime, my dear Pelleas, you whom I love more than a brother, although we were not born of the same father; meantime, prepare my return . . . I know that my mother will gladly forgive me. But I fear the king, our venerable grandfather; I fear Arkel, in spite of all his kindness, for I have disappointed by this strange 26 Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. marriage, all his political schemes, and I fear that Melisanda's beauty, in his wise eyes, will not excuse my folly. If he consent, however, to welcome her as he would welcome his own daughter, on the third evening after the receipt of this letter, light a lamp at the top of the tower overlooking the sea. I shall perceive it from the deck of our ship; if not, I shall go further, and never return .. ." What do you say to this? ARKEL. Nothing. He has done what he probably had to do. I am very old, and yet I have never for one instant seen clearly within myself; how then would you have me judge the deeds of others? I am not far from the grave, and I am incapable of judging myself . .. One is always mistaken, unless one shuts one's eyes. What he has done may seem strange to us; and that is all. He is more than ripe in years, and he has married himself, as a boy might do, to 27 Act i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. a little girl whom he found by a spring . . . This may appear strange to us, because we can only see the wrong side of destinies . wrong side even . . the of our own . . . He had always followed my advice hitherto; I thought to make him happy in sending him to ask for the Princess hand . . . He Ursula's never could bear solitude, and since his wife's death he had grieved to be alone; this marriage would have put an end to long wars and to ancient enmities . . . He so. has not Let it be as he has willed. willed it I have never put myself in the way of a destiny; and he knows his own future better than I do. There is no such thing, perhaps, as the occurrence of purposeless events . GENEVIEVE. He has always been so prudent, so grave, and so firm ... stand ... If it were Pelleas I should underat his age ... But he... is he going to bring 28 into our Whom midst? A Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. stranger picked up by the road-side . . . Since his wife's death he lived but for his son, little Yniold, and if he was about to remarry, it was because you had wished it ... And now . a little girl in the forest . . . He has forgotten all . . . What are we to do? [Enter PELLEAS.] ARKEL. Who is that coming in ? GENEVIEVE. It is Pelleas. He has been crying. ARKEL. Is that you, Pelleas? Come a little nearer, that I may see you in the light . . PELLEAS. Grandfather, I received another letter at the same time as my brother's; a letter from my friend Marcellus. me. He is dying, and he calls for He wishes to see me before he dies . . 29 Act i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. ARKEL. You wish to leave before your brother's return ?-Your friend is perhaps less ill than he supposes . . PELLEAS. His letter is so sad that death is visible between the lines . . . He says that he knows precisely the day that death must come . He says that I can outstrip it if I will, but that there is no time to lose. The journey is very long, and if I await Golaud's return it may be too late . ARKEL. It would be well to wait awhile, nevertheless. We cannot tell what this home-coming prepares for us. And besides is not your father here, overhead, more dangerously ill, perhaps, than your friend . . . Are you able to choose between father and friend . . .? [Exit.] 30 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. iv. GENEVIEVE. Be sure to light the lamp this very evening, Pelleas . . . [Exeunt severally.] SCENE IV. Before the Castle. [Enter GENEVIEVE and MELISANDA.] MELISANDA. It is dusky in the gardens. And what big forests, what big forests all around round the palace! . GENEVIEVE. Yes; it astonished me too when I first came here, and it astonishes everybody. There are places where one never sees the sun. But one so soon becomes accustomed to it all . . 31 It is PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. long ago, it is long ago... Act i. It is nearly forty years since I came to live here . . . Look the other way, you will have the light of the sea . . . MELISANDA. I hear a noise below .. . GENEVIEVE. Yes; some one is coming up towards us . . Ah! it is Pelleas . . . he still seems weary of having waited for you so long . . . MELISANDA. He has not seen us yet. GENEVIEVE. I think he has seen us, but he does not quite know what to do ... Pelleas, Pelleas, is that you? PELLEAS. Yes! .. .. I was coming towards the sea . GENEVIEVE. So were we; we were in search of brightness. 32 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. iv. Here it is a little brighter than elsewhere; and yet the sea is gloomy. PELLEAS. There has We shall have a storm to-night. been one every night for some time, and yet how calm it is now . . One might put forth in ignorance, never to return. MELISANDA. Something is leaving the harbour . PELLEAS. It must be a big ship . . . Her lights are very high, we shall see her presently when she sails into that band of.light . GENEVIEVE. I don't know that we shall be able to see her . . there is still a mist on the sea . PELLEAS. It seems as if the mist were slowly rising . 3 33 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act i. MELISANDA. Yes; I see a little light over there that I did not see before . PELLEAS. It is a beacon; there are others that we cannot yet see. MELISANDA. The ship is in the light... She is already far away . PELLEAS. It is a foreign ship. She seems to me larger than any of ours . MELISANDA. It is the ship that brought me here! . PELLEAS. She is going at full sail . MELISANDA. It is the ship that brought me here. big sails . . . I know her by her sails . 34 She has Sc. iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. PELLEAS. She will have a bad sea to-night . MELISANDA. Why is she leaving to-night? hardly see her now . . . . One can She will be wrecked perhaps . PELLEAS. Night is falling very fast . [Silence.] GENEVIEVE. Is no one going to speak any more? . Have you nothing more to say to one another? . . . It is time to go in. the way to Melisanda. Pelleas, show I must go and see little Yniold a moment. [Exit.] PELLEAS. There is nothing to be seen now on sea . MELISANDA. I see other lights. 35 the PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act i. PELLEAS. Those are the other beacons . . . Do you hear the sea? . . . It is the wind rising . Let us go down this way. Will you give me your hand? MELISANDA. You see, my hands are full . PELLEAS. I will hold you by the arm, the path is steep, and it is very dark . . . I am perhaps going away to-morrow MELISANDA. Ohi! . . . Why are you going? [Ereunt.] 36 Act //. ACT II. SCENE I. A Spring in the Park. [Enter PELLEAS andt MELISANDA.] PELLEAS. You don't know where I have brought you? I often come and sit here towards noon, when it is too hot in the gardens. The air is stifling to-day, even in the shadow of the trees. MELISAN DA. Oh! the water is clear . PELLEAS. And cool as winter. spring. It is an old deserted It was once, they say, a miraculous 39 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act ii. spring,-it opened the eyes of the blind,-it is still called " blindman's well." MELISANDA. Does it open the eyes of the blind no more ? PELLEAS. Now that the king himself is nearly blind, no one comes to it . MELISANDA. How lonely it is here! . . . There is no sound to be heard. PELLEAS. There is always a marvellous silence . . . One seems to hear the water sleep ... Would you like to sit down on the edge of the marble basin ? There is a lime-tree which the sun never pierces . . MELISANDA. I am going to lie down on the marble.-I should like to see the bottom of the water . . 40 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. i. PELLEAS. It has never yet been seen. No one knows whence this deep as the sea. water comes. It is perhaps as Perhaps from the depths of the earth .. . MELISANDA. If something were shining down at the bottom, one might see it perhaps . PELLEAS. Do not lean so far over . MELISANDA. I want to touch the water . PELLEAS. Take care not to slip... I will hold you by the hand . MELISANDA. No, no, I want to dip both hands in ... it seems as if my hands were ill to-day . . PELLEAS. Oh! oh! take care ! take 41 care! Meli- PELLEAS AND MELISANDA sanda! . hair . Melisanda! . - Act it. Oh! your . . .. MELISANDA [drawing herself up]. I cannot, I cannot reach it . PELLEAS. Your hair dipped into the water MELISANDA. Yes, yes; it is longer than my arms . It is longer than myself . . [Silence.] PELLEAS. It was also beside a spring that he found you ? MELISANDA. Yes . PELLEAS. What did he say to you ? MELISAN DA. Nothing;---I don't remember PELLEAS. Was he quite close to you ? 42 Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISAN DA. Yes; he wanted to kiss me. PELLEAS. And you would not ? MELISANDA. No. PELLEAS. Why not? MELISANDA. Oh! oh! I have seen something pass at the bottom of the water . PELLEAS. Take care! take care! You will fall in! What are you playing with? MELISANDA. With the ring he gave me . PELLEAS. Take care; you will lose it . MELISANDA. No, no; I am sure of my hands . . 43 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act ii. PELLEAS. Do not play thus, above such deep water . MELISANDA. My hands are steady. PELLEAS. How it shines in the sun ! Don't throw it up so high towards the sky . MELISANDA. Oh! ... PELLEAS. Has it fallen ? MELISANDA. It has fallen into the water ! . PELLEAS. Where is it ? where is it? . MELISANDA. I cannot see it go down . PELLEAS. I think I see it shine . 44 . Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. My ring ? PELLEAS. Yes, yes; over there . MELISANDA. Oh! oh! it is so far from us! . . . no, no, that is not it . . . It is lost . . . lost . . . There is nothing left but a big circle on the water . What shall we do? What shall we do now ? PELLEAS. You must not be so uneasy about a ring. Never mind . . . we shall perhaps find it again. Or else we shall find another . MELISANDA. No, no; we shall never find it again, nor shall we ever find another ... I thought I held it in my hands though . .. I had already closed my hands, and it fell in spite of all . . . I threw it too high, towards the sun . PELLEAS. Come, come, we can return another day . 45 Act ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. come, it is time. meet us. They might be coming to It was striking noon when the ring fell. MELISANDA. What shall we tell Golaud if he asks where it is ? PELLEAS. The truth, the truth, the truth . [Exeunt.] SCENE II. A Room in the Castle. [GOLAUD is discovered lying on his bed ; MELISANDA the is at bedside.] GOLAUD. Ah! ah! all is going well, it will be no grave matter. But I cannot explain how it came 46 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. about. I was hunting quietly in the forest. My horse bolted all of a sudden, for no reason. Had he seen anything unusual? . . . I had just counted the twelve strokes of noon. At the twelfth stroke, he suddenly took fright and ran like one blind and mad, against heard nothing more. happened. me. a tree. I Nor do I know what I fell, and he must have fallen upon I thought the whole forest lay on my chest; I thought my heart was crushed. my heart is tough. But It appears to be no grave matter . MELISANDA. Would you like to drink a little water? GOLAUD. Thank you, thank you; I am not thirsty. MELISANDA. Would you like another pillow? . .. There is a little bloodstain on this one. GOLAUD. "No, no; it is not worth while. 47 I bled at PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. the mouth just now. Act ii. I shall perhaps do so again . MELISANDA Are you quite sure ? . You are not in too great pain ? GOLAUD. No, no, I have been through more than this. I am tempered to blood and steel ... These are not the little bones of a child; you must not be anxious . MELISANDA. Close your eyes and try to sleep. I shall stay here all night. GOLAUD. No, no; I will not have you tire yourself thus. I shall want nothing; child .. I shall sleep like a . What is it, Melisanda? Why are you crying all of a sudden ? . . MELISANDA [bursting into tears]. I am . . . I am ill too. 48 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAU D. You are ill? ... What ails you, what ails you, Melisanda ?. MELISANDA. I don't . I know . feel ill I here . . had rather tell it you to-day; my lord, my lord, I am not happy here . GOLAUD. Why, what has happened, Melisanda? What is the matter? . . . I who had no suspicion . Why what has happened? . . . Has any one . Can any one have hurt done you wrong? you ? MELISANDA. No, no; no one has done me the least wrong ... that . . . It is not that... ut I cannot live here It is not any longer. I don't know why . . . I should like to go away, to go away! .. I shall die if I am left here . . 49 4 Act ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAUD. But something must have happened? You must be hiding something from me? ... Tell me the whole truth, Melisanda . . . Is it the king? . .. Is it my mother? . . . Is it Pelleas ? MELISANDA. No, no; it is not Pelleas. It is nobody . You cannot understand me . GOLAUD. Why should I not understand?. .. If you tell me nothing, what would you have me do? ... Tell me all, and I shall understand all. MELISANDA. I don't myself know what it is . . rightly know what it is ... you, I would . If I don't I could tell It is something that is . stronger than myself . GOLAUD. Come; be reasonable, 50 Melisanda.-What Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. would you have me do?-You are no longer a child.-Is it me that you wish to leave? MELISANDA. Oh! no, no; it is not that . . . I should like to go away with you . . . It is here that I can no longer live . I feel that I shall not live much longer . GOLAUD. But there must be some reason, nevertheless. They will think you mad. They will credit you with childish dreams.-Come, is it Pelleas, by any chance?--I think he does not often speak to you . MELISANDA.: Yes, yes; he speaks to me at times. Hie does not like me, I think; I. have seen it in his eyes . . . But he speaks whenever he meets me . GOLAUD. You must not take it amiss. been so. He is rather strange. 51 He has always And just now PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act ii. he is sad; he is thinking of his friend Marcellus, who lies at the point of death, and to whom he may not go . .. . He will change, he will change, you will see; he is young . MELISANDA. But it is not that . . . It is not that . GOLAUD. What is it then ?-Can you not accustom yourself to the life we lead here? Is it too dismal for you here?-It is true that the castle is very old and very gloomy . .. and very deep. are far in years. very cold And all those that live in it And the country may seem dismal too with all its ancient lightless forests. But one can make all this more cheerful if one pleases. And then, joy, joy, one cannot touch joy every day; one must take things as they are. Yet tell me of something; no matter what; I will do anything you wish . . . MELISANDA. Yes, yes; it is true . .. one never sees the 52 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. sky here. I saw it for the first time this morning . GOLAUD. Is that what makes you weep, my poor Melisanda ?-Is it nothing but that ?-You shed tears because you cannot see the sky ?-Come, come, you are no longer of an age when one may allow oneself to cry about such things . And then, is summer not here? You will soon see the sky every day.-And then next year . Come, give me your hand; give me both your little hands. [He takes her hands.] Oh! oh! these little hands that I could crush like flowers ...- Why, where is the ring I gave you? MELISANDA. The ring ? GOLAUD. Yes; our wedding-ring, where is it ? MELISANDA. I think . . . I think it fell . 53 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act ii. GOLAUD. Fell ?-Where did it fall ?-You have not lost it ? MELISANDA. No, no; it fell . . . it must have fallen . but I know where it is . . . GOLAUD. Where is it ? MELISANDA. You know. .. you know . . the cave by the sea? . GOLAUD. Yes. MELISANDA. Well, it was there . . . It must have been there . . . Yes, yes; I remember . . . I went there this morning to pick up shells for little Yniold . . . There are lovely ones there . .. It slipped from my finger . . . then the sea came up; and I had to leave before I could find it. 54 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAUD. Are you sure it is there? MELISAN DA. Yes, yes; quite sure . . I felt it slip. then, all of a sudden, the sound of the waves . GOLAUD. You must go and fetch it at once. MELISANDA. I must go and fetch it at once ? GOLAUD. Yes. MELISANDA. Now ?-at once ?-in the dark ? GOLAU D. Now, at once, in the dark. and fetch it at once. all I possess night. I would rather have lost than have lost that ring. don't know what it is. it comes from. You must go You You don't know where The sea will be very high to- The sea will rise and take it before 55 Act ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. you . . . make haste. You must go and fetch it at once . . MELISANDA. I dare not . I dare not go alone . . . GOLAUD. But you Go, go, no matter with whom. must go at once, do you hear ?---Make haste; ask Pelleas to go with you. MELISANDA. Pelleas ?- With Pelleas ?-But Pelleas will not want to . GOLAUD. Pelleas will do all that you ask him. Pelleas better than you do. I know Go, go, make haste. I shall not sleep before I have the ring. MELISANDA. Oh! oh! I am not happy! . . . I am not happy ! [Exit weeping.] Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. SCENE III. Before a Cave. [Enter PELLEAS and MELISANDA.] PELLEAS [speaking in great agitation]. Yes, this is the spot; we have reached it. It is so dark that the entrance of the cave is indistinguishable from the rest of night . . . There are no stars that way. Let us wait until the moon has rent that great cloud; it will illumine the whole cave, and then we shall be able to enter without danger. There are some dangerous points, and the path is very narrow, between two lakes which have never yet been sounded. I did not think to bring a-torch or a lantern, but I fancy that the light of the sky will suffice. -You have never yet ventured into this cave? MELISANDA. No. PELLEAS. Come in, come . . . You must be able to 57 Act ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. describe the spot where you lost the ring, in case he questions you . . . It is a very large cave and very beautiful. There are stalactites that resemble plants and men. shades. It is full of blue It has never been explored to the very end. There are, it seems, great treasures hidden there. wrecks. You will see the remains of ancient shipBut one must not attempt to go far without a guide. There have been some that never came back. I myself do not dare go too far in. We will stop the moment we no longer see the light of the waves or of the sky. If one lights a little light in there it seems as if the roof were covered with stars, like the sky. They say it is because there are fragments of crystal and salt that shine in the rock.-Look, look, I think the sky is going to clear ... Give me your hand; don't tremble, don't tremble so. There is no danger; we will stop the moment we can no longer perceive the light of the sea... Is it the sound of the cave that frightens you? It is the sound of night, the 58 sound of Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. silence . . . Do you hear the sea behind us? -It does not seem happy to-night . . . Ah! here is light! . [ The mooin broadly illumines the entrance and a part of the cave; one beholds, at a certain deptI, three whitehaired old beggars, seated side by side, and supporting one another in sleep, against a ledge of rock.] MELISANDA. Ah! PELLEAS. What is it ? MELISANDA. There are . . . [She points to the three beggars.] PELLEAS. Yes, yes; I too have seen them . 59 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act ii. MELISANDA. .. Let us go! Let us go! . .. PELLEAS. Yes . . . They are three old beggars that have fallen asleep . . . There is a famine in the land ... Why have they come here to sleep ? .. MELISANDA. Let go! us go! .... Come, come . . . Let us . . . PELLEAS. Take care; don't speak so loud... must not wake them . . . We they are still fast asleep . . . Come. MELISANDA. Leave me, leave me; alone . I had rather walk . PELLEAS. We will come again another day . [Exeunt.] 60 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. iv. SCENE IV. A Room in the Castle. [ARKEL and PELLEAS are discovered.] ARKEL. You see that everything conspires to hold you here at this moment, and that everything forbids this bootless journey. father's condition has The truth as to your been kept from you hitherto; but it is perhaps hopeless; and that alone should suffice to hold you here. there are so many other reasons . .. But And it is not at a time when our enemies are roused, when our people are dying of hunger and murmuring on all sides, that you have the right to desert us. And why this journey? Marcellus is dead; and life has heavier duties than the visiting of graves. You are weary, you say, of your inactive life; but activity and duty are not to be found by the roadside. One must await them on the threshold, ready to bid them 6I Act ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. enter at the moment of passing; and they pass every day. You have never seen them? I myself am almost blind, and yet I will teach you to see ; I will show them to you, the day that you wish to beckon them in. Still, listen to me: if you think it is from the depths of your life that this journey is exacted, I shall not forbid you to undertake it; for you must know, better than I, what events you ought to offer to your being and to your destiny. I shall only ask you to wait until we know what is about to happen . PELLEAS. How long shall I have to wait ? ARKEL. A few weeks; maybe a few days PELLEAS. I will wait . . 62 . . A ct III. ACT III. SCENE I. A Room in the Castle. [PELLEAS and MELISANDA are discovered. SANDA, MELI- wiith a distaff is spinning at the further end of the room.] PELLEAS. Yniold has not come back ; where has he gone? MELISANDA. He heard something in the passage; he went to see what it was. PELLEAS. Melisanda , 65 5 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii MELISANDA. What is it ? PELLEAS. Can you still see to work? . MELISANDA. I work just as well in the dark . PELLEAS. I think that every one in the castle is already fast asleep. hunting. Golaud has not come home from It is late, however ... Does he still suffer from his fall ? MELISANDA. He has said that he suffers no more. PELLEAS. ie ought to be more prudent; his limbs are no longer supple as at twenty... I can see stars out of window, and the light of the moon on the trees. back now. there? . . It is late; he will not come [A knock at the door.] Come in ! . 66 Who is . [Little YNIOLD opens Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. the door and enters the room.] Was it you that knocked so? . . . That is not the way to knock at doors. It was just as if some mis- fortune had happened; look, you have frightened your little mother. LITTLE YNIOLD. I only knocked quite a little. PELLEAS. It is late; father will not be coming home this evening; it is time to go to bed. LITTLE YNIOLD. I shall not go to bed before you do. PELLEAS. What? . . .hata? What are you saying there? LITTLE YNIOLD. I said . . . not before you . not before you . . [lie bursts into tears and takes refuge beside MELISANDA.] 67 Act iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. What is it, Yniold? . . . What is it? . why are you crying all of a sudden ? YNIOLD [sobbing]. Because . . . Oh ! oh! because . MELISANDA. Why? , . . Why? . .. tell me . YNIOLD. Little mother .. , little mother . you are going away .. MELISANDA. Why, what possesses you, Yniold ? . I have never dreamed of going away . YNIOLD. Yes, yes; father is gone . . . father has not come back, and now you are going too . I have seen it . . . I have seen it . MELISAN DA. But there has been no question of such a 68 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA, Sc. i. thing, Yniold . .. By what could you see that I was going? . YN IOLD. saw I saw it ... I it .. Y u said things Y. to my uncle that I could not hear . PELLEAS. lie is sleepy . .. . he has been dreaming . . . Come here, Yniold; are you asleep already ? Come and look out of window; the swans are fighting the dogs . VNIOLD [at the windozu]. Oh! oh! They are chasing them, the dogs! . . . They are chasing them! . . . Oh! oh! the water! . . . the wings! . . the wings ! . .. They are frightened . . . PELLEAS [going back to MELISANDA]. He issleepy; he is struggling against sleep, and his eyes are closing . 69 PELLIEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. MELISANDA [Sizging,ini an undertone as sle spins]. Saint Daniel and Saint Michael, 0! Saint Michael and Saint Raphael too . YNIOLD [at the window]. Oh! oh! mother dear! . . . MELISANDA [risingabruptly]. What is it, Yniold ? . .. . What is it? . YNIOLD. I have seen something out of window! . [PELLEAS and MELISANDA run to the window.] PELLEAS. What is there at the window? . . . What is it that you saw ? . YNIOLD. Oh ! oh! I saw something! . PELLEAS. But there is nothing. I can see nothing . 70 Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISAN DA Nor I . I'ELLEAS. Where did you see something? In what direction ? YNIOLD. Over there, over there!.. It has gone noW, PELLEAS. He no longer knows what he is saying. He must have seen the moonshine on the forest. There are often strange reflections . . . or else something may have passed along the road . or in his sleep. For look, look, I believe he is going to sleep for good . YNIOLD [at the zvindow]. Father is there ! father is there ! PELLE AS [goinig to the Hie wzindowz]. is right; Golaud has just entered the courtyard. 7' Act iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. YNIOLD. and meet him! I will go .. father dear! .. Father dear! .. . [Exit running.- Silence.] PELLEAS. They are coming upstairs ... and litle bcaring a laip.] YNIOLD [Enter GOLAUD, GOLAUD. Are you still waiting in the dark ? YNIOLD. I have brought a light, mother, a big light! [He lifts up the lamp and looks at Have you been crying, mother Have you been crying? . .. towards PELLEAS, MELISAN DA.] dear? [He lifts lthe lamp and looks at him also.] You too, you too, have you been crying ? . . . Fathcr dear, look father dear; they have been crying, both of them . GOLAUD. Do not hold the light thus to their eyes . 72 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. SCENE II. One of the castle towers. A sentry path runs below one of the tower windows. MELISANDA [comibing her hair at the windozw]. Thirty years I've sought, my sisters, Far his hiding-place, Thirty years I've walked, my sisters, But have found no trace . Thirty years I've walked, my sisters, And my feet are worn, He was all about, my sisters, Yet he wa inorn . . Sad the hour grows, my sisters, Bare my feet again, For the evening dies, my sisters, And my soul's in pain . You are now sixteen, my sisters, Time it is for you, Take my staff away, my sisters, Go and seek him too . [Enter PELLEAS by the sentry p.at.] 73 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. PELLEAS. Hola! IHola! ho! . . . MELISAN DA. Who is there ? PELLEAS. I, I, and I! . What are you doing there at the window, singing like a bird that is not of this land ? MELISANDA. I am doing my hair for the night . PELLEAS. Is that what I see on the wall? . . . I thought you had a light by you . MELISANDA. I opened the window; it is too hot in the tower . . It is fine to-night . PELLEAS. There are innumerable stars: I have never seen so many as to-night . . . but the moon is 74 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. still on the sea ... Do not stay in the dark, Melisanda, lean over a little, that I may see your hair all loose . MELISANDA. I am hideous so . [S/e leanzs out of wii,-ow.] PELLEAS. Oh! oh! Melisanda!... tiful! . . . you over! . .. are oh! you are beau- beautiful so! lean over! ,.. . . lean let me come nearer to you . . . MELISANDA. I cannot come any nearer to you . . . I am leaning over as far as I can . PELLEAS. I cannot climb any higher . . . least your hand this evening . . away . . . I leave to-morrow . MELISANDA. No, no, no . 75 give me at before I go PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. PELLEAS. Yes, yes, yes; I amn going, I am going to-morrow . . . give mec your hand, your hand, your little hand to my lips . MELISANDA. I shall not give you my hand if you go away . PELLEAS. Give, give, give . 1I EILISANDA. Then you will not go ? PELLEAS. I will wait, I will wait . MELISANDA. I see a rose in the dark . . . PELLEAS. Where? ... I can only see the branches of the willow that rise above the wall 76 . Sc. ii. IPELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. Lower, lower in the garden ; over there, right in the dusky green PELLEAS. It is not a rose ... I shall go and look presently, but give me your hand first; first your hand . MELISANDA. There, there;... I cannot bend down any lower . PELLEAS. My lips cannot reach your hand . MELISANDA. I cannot bend down any lower... on the point of falling... is falling down the tower! I am Oh! oh! my hair . [Her/hairturns oversuddenly as she bends, and inundates 77ELLEAS. 77 Act iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. PELLEAS. Your hair, your Oh! oh! what is this ?,.. me! . . to down hair is coming All your hair, Melisanda, all your hair has fallen down the tower! ... I hold it in my hands, I hold it in my mouth I hold it in my arms, I . wind it about my neck, . . I shall not open my hands again this night , MELISANDA. Leave me! leave me! me fall! , . You will make .. PELLEAS. No, no, no . . . I never saw hair like yours, Melisanda! .. . See, see, see; it comes from so high, and yet its floods reach my heart . They reach my knees! . . . And it is soft, it is as soft as if it had fallen from heaven ! . . longer see heaven for your hair. do you see? . . I can no Do you see? . My two hands cannot hold it; there are even some locks on the willow branches . . . Tlhey live, like birds, 78 in my Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. me, they love me they love hands . . . and . better than yoii MELISANDA. Leave me, leave me . .. Some one might pass . PELLEAS. No, no, no; night ... shall not release I you to- You are my prisoner for this night; all night, all night MELISANDA. Pelleas ! Pelleas ! . PELLEAS. I am tying them, tying them to the branches of the willow . . . you shall never go from here again . . . you shall again . . . Look, never look, I am go from here kissing your hair . . . All pain has left me here in the midst of your hair . .. Do you hear my kisses creep along your hair? . . . They are climbing all the length of your hair . . . Every single hair must 79 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. bring you one . . . You see, you see, I can open my hands . . My hands are free, and yet you cannot leave me . MELISANDA. Oh! oh! you have hurt me . .. [A flight of doves leave the tower and Jfutter about them in the nlight.]--What has happened, Pelleas ?- What is flying here all about me ? PELLEAS. The doves are leaving the tower . .. I fright- ened them; they are flying away MELISANDA. They are my doves, Pelleas.-Let us go, leave me; they might never come back PELLEAS. Why should they not come back? MELISANDA. They will lose themselves in the dark . Leave me, let me lift up my head . . . I hear 80o Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. the sound of footsteps . . . Leave me!-It is Golaud! . .. I believe it is Golaud! ... He has heard us . PELLEAS. Wait! wait! . . . Your locks are twisted round the branches. . They caught there in the dark . . . Wait! wait! . . . The night is dark . . . [Encter GOLAUD by the sentry path.] GOLAUD. What are you doing here? PELLEAS. What am I doing here? . . . I . GOLAUD. You are children . . . Melisanda, don't lean so far out of the window; you will fall . 1)on't you know that it is late?-It is close upon midnight.-Don't play thus'in the dark. SI 6 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. You are children *. What children! . . Act iii. . [Laughing nervously.] What children! . . [Exit, with PELLEAS.] SCENE III, The Castle Vaults. [Enter GOLAUD and PELLEAS.] GOLAUD. Take care; this way, this way.-Have you never ventured down into these vaults ? PELLEAS. Yes, once; but it was long ago . GOLAUD. They are prodigiously large; a series of enormous caves that lead, heaven knows where. The whole castle is built above these caves. Do you smell what a deathly odour reigns here?-82 Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. That is what I wanted to show you. I have an idea that it rises from the little underground lake you will see presently. Take care; walk before me, in the rays of my lantern. [They continue to wal you when we are there. in silence.] I will tell Hey! hey ! Pelleas! stop! stop! [Lie seizes kim by the arm.] For God's sake! ... But can't you see ?-Another step and you were in the abyss! . PELLEAS. I could see nothing ! . ., The lantern was shedding no light my way . GOLAUD. I missed my footing , . but if I had not held you by the arm . . . Well, here is the stagnant water of which I spoke . . . Do you smell the stench of (ldeath that rises from it ?-Come to the edge of that overhanging rock and lean over a little. It will rise and strike you in the face. 83 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. PELLEAS. I smell it already . .. one would say it was the smell of tombs. GOLAUD. Further, further . . . It is this smell that on certain days infects the castle. The King will not believe that it comes from here.-It would be well to wall up the cavern that contains this stagnant water. It is time, moreover, that these vaults should be examined. Have you noticed the crevices in the walls and in the pillars of the vaults? There is here some hidden, unsuspected work; and the whole castle will be engulfed one night if no care be taken. done? But what is to be Nobody likes coming down here ... There are strange crevices in many of the walls ... Oh! here ... do you smell the smell of death that rises ? PELLEAS. Yes; there is a smell of death creeping up around us . . 84 Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAUD. Lean over; don't be afraid ... I will hold you . . . give me . . . no, no, not your hand ... it might slip . . your arm, your arm . Do you see the abyss? [Uneasily.]-Pelleas? Pelleas? . . . PELLEAS. Yes; I think I see down to the bottom of the abyss ... Is it the light that quivers so ? . You . . [He stands erect, turns roun, and looks at GOLAUD.] GOLAUD [in tremibling voice]. Yes; it is the lantern ... Look, I was waving it about to light up the sides . PELLEAS. I am stifling here . . . let us go . GOLAUD. Yes; let us go . [Exeunt in silence.] 85 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. SCENE Act iii. IV. A Terrace at the entrance of the Vaults. [Enter GOLAUD and PELLEAS.] PELLEAS. Ah! I breathe at last! . . . I thought, at one moment, that I was going to faint away in those enormous caves. I was on the point of falling . . . The air is humid there and heavy as a dew of lead, and the darkness is thick as envenomed pulp . . . And now, all the air of all the sea! . . . There is a fresh breeze, look; fresh as a new-opened leaf, on the little green waves . . . Why! They have just been water- ing the flowers at the foot of the terrace, and the scent of the foliage and of the wet roses rises to us here .. It must be close upon midday, the flowers are already in the shadow of the tower .. It is midday; I hear the bells ring- ing, and the children are going down to the 86 Sc. iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. beach to bathe . .. I did not know we had stayed so long in those caves . GOLAUD. We went down towards eleven . PELLEAS. Earlier; it must have been earlier; I heard half-past ten strike. GOLAUD. Half-past ten or a quarter to eleven . PELLEAS. They have opened all the castle windows. It will be unusually hot this afternoon . Why, there are our mother and Melisanda at one of the windows of the tower . GOLAUD. Yes, they have taken shelter on the shady side.--Concerning Melisanda, I heard what passed between you, and all that was said yesterday evening. I know quite well that it 87 Act iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. was child's play, but it must not be repeated. Melisanda is very young and very impressionable; and we must handle her all the more gently as she may be about to become a mother . She is very frail, hardly woman yet; and the least emotion might bring about misfortune. It is not the first time I have had cause to think that there might be something between you . . . you are older than she; it is sufficient to have told you . . . Avoid her as much as possible; yet not markedly at all events, not markedly -What . is it that I see there on the road, towards the forest? . I'ELLEAS. Those are flocks that are being led to town . GOLAUD. They are crying like lost children ; one would say that they already smelt the butcher. It will be time to go in to dinner.-What a lovely day ! What an admirable day for the harvest! . [Exeu t.] 88 Sc.v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. SCENE V. Before the Castle. [EnterGOLAUD and little YNIOLD.] GOLAUD. Come, we will sit down here, Yniold ; come on to my knee: from here we shall be able to see all that is going on in the forest. to see you now. I seem never You too forsake me; you are always with your little mother . . . Why, we are sitting just under little mother's windows. -She is perhaps saying her evening prayers at this moment ... But tell me, Yniold, she and your Uncle Pelleas are often together, are they not? YNIOLD. Yes, yes; always, father dear; when you are not there, father . . GOLAUD. Ah!- Look, some one is passing 89 with a PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. lantern in the garden.-But I have been told that they don't care for one another . . . It appears that they often quarrel . .. ch ? Is it true ? YNIOLD. Yes, yes; it is true. GOLAUD. Yes ?-Ah! ah!-But what do they quarrel about ? YNIOLD, About the door. GOLAUD. What? About the door?-What are you telling me there ?-Come now, explain yourself; why should they quarrel about the door? YNIOLD. Because it cannot be left open. GOLAUD. Who will not have it left open ?-Come, why do they quarrel ? 90 Sc. v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. YN IOLD. I don't know, father dear, about the light. GOLAUD. I am not speaking about the light; we will talk about that presently. the door. I am speaking about Answer what I ask you; you must learn to speak; it is time . . Don't put your hand in your mouth . . . come . . YNIOLD. Father ! dear father! . . . I won't do it any more . . [He cries.] GOLAUD. Come now; what are you crying for ? What is the matter ? YNIOLD. Oh! oh! father dear, you hurt me . GOLAUD. I have hurt you ?-Where have I hurt you? I never meant to do it . 91 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. YN IOLD. Here, here; on my little arm . GOLAUD. I never meant to do it; come, don't cry any more, I will give you something to-morrow . YNIOLD. What, father dear? GOLAUD. A quiver and arrows; but now tell me what you know about the door. YNIOLD. Big arrows? GOLAUD. Yes, yes; very big arrows.-But why will they not have the door left open ?- Come, answer me!-no, no; don't open your mouth to cry. I am not angry. We will talk quietly as Pelleas and little mother do when they are together. What do they talk about when they are together ? 92 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. v. YNIOLD. Pelleas and little mother ? GOLAUD. Yes; what do they talk about? YNIOLD. About me; always about me. GOLAUD. And what do they say about you ? YNIOLD. They say that I shall grow very tall. GOLAUD. Ah! misery! . I am here like a blind man that seeks his treasure depths! .. . in the ocean's I am like a new-born infant lost in the forest, and you . . . But come, Yniold, I was deep in thought; let us tall< seriously. Pelleas and little mother, do they never speak of me when I am not there? . . 93 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. YNIOLD. Yes, yes, father dear; they always speak of you. GOLAUD. Ah ! . . And what do they say about me? YNIOLID. They say that I shall grow as tall as you. GOLAUD. Are you always with them? YNIOLD. Yes, yes; always, always, father dear. GOLAUD. They never tell you to go and play elsewhere ? YNIOLD. No, father dear; they are afraid when I am not there. GOLAUD. They are afraid?. . that they are afraid ? 94 by what can you see Sc. v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. YNIOLD. Little mother who is always saying: don't go away, don't go away . . They are ulln- prove that they are happy, and yet they laugh . GOLAUD. But that does not afraid . YNIOLD. Yes, yes, father dear; she is afraid . GOLAUD. What makes you say that she is afraid ? YNIOLD. They always cry in the dark. GOLAUD. Ah! ah . . YNIOLD. That makes one cry too . GOLAUD. Yes, yes . . 95 I'ELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. YNIOLD. She is pale, father dear. GOLAUD. Ah! ah! . patience, my God, patience . YNIOLD. What, father dear? GOLAUD. Nothing, nothing, my child.-I saw a wolf pass in the forest.-Then they are on good terms ?I am glad to hear that they agree.-They kiss each other sometimes ?-No ? YNIOLD. If they kiss each other, father dear?-No, no,- ah! yes, father dear, yes, yes, once . once when it was raining . .. GOLAUD. They kissed each other ?-But how, how did they kiss ?96 SC, v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. YNIOLD. So, father dear, so! ... [He gives him a kiss on the mouth, laughing.] Ah! ah! your beard, father dear! .. . It pricks ! it pricks! it pricks ! It is growing quite grey, father, and your hair too; all grey, all grey . . . [The window beneath which they are sitting is here illumined, and its brigziness falls upon them.] Ah! ah! little mother has lighted her lamp! It is light now, father dear, it is light . GOLAUD. Yes; light is dawning . YNIOLD. Let us go there too, father dear; let us go there too . GOLAUD. WVhere do you wa2lt to go ? YNIOLP. Where the light is. father dear. 97 7 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. GOLAUD. No, no, my child: let us stay here in the shade awhile tell yet ... . . . one cannot tell, one cannot Do you see these poor creatures over there who are trying to light a little fire in the forest ?-It has been raining. And round the other way, do you see the old gardener trying to lift up that tree which the wind has blown across the path?-He cannot do it; the tree is too big; the tree is too heavy, and it must lie where it fell. There is no help for it all . . . I think that Pelleas is mad . YNIOLD. No, father dear, he is not mad, but he is very kind. GOLAUD. Do you want to see your little mother ? YNIOLD. Yes, yes; I want to see her! 98 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. v. GOLAUD. Don't make a noise; I will .hoist you up to the window. It is too high for me, althoulgh I am so big . .. [He lifts up the child.] Don't make the least noise; little mother would be terribly frightened . .. Can you see her ?- Is she in the room ? YNIOLD. Yes . . . Oh! it is light! GOLAUD. Is she alone ? YNIOLD. Yes . . . no no; my uncle Pelleas is there too. GOLAUD. He! . YNIOLD. Ah! me! . ah! father dear! You are hurting . GOLAUD. Never mind; be quiet. 99 I shall not do it PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. again ; look, look, speak lower. Act iii. Yniold! . . . I stumbled; What are they doing ?YN IOLD. They are doing nothing, father dlear; they are expecting something. GOLAUD. Are they near one another? YNIOLD. No, father dear. GOLAUD. And . . . and the bed? are they near the bed ? YNIOLD. The bed, father dear ?-I don't see the bed. GOLAUD. Lower, lower; they might hear you. they saying anything? YNIOLD. No, father dear; they are saying nothing. I00 Are Sc. v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. GOLAUD. But what are they doing ?-They must be doing something . YNIOLD. They are looking at the light. GOLAUD. Both of them ? YNIOLD. Yes, father dear. GOLAUD. And not speaking ? YNIOLD. No, father dear; they have not closed their eyes. GOLAUD. They are not going towards one another? YN IOLD. No, father dear; they have not moved. 1OT PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iii. GOLAUD. Are they sitting down ? YNIOLD. No, father dear; they are standing against the wall. GOLAUD. They are making no gestures ?-They are not looking at one another ?-They are not making signs ? YNIOLD. No, father dear.-Oh ! oh ! father, they never close their eyes . . . I am dreadfully frightened . GOLAUD. Be still. They have not moved yet ? YN IOLD. No, father dear-I am frightened, father dear, let me get down! . GOLAUD. What is there to be aftaid of ?-Look! look !... IO2 Sc. v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. YNIOLD. I dare not look any more, father dear! Let me down! . . . . GOLAUD. Look! look ! . YNIOLD. Oh! oh! dear ! I am going to scream, father . . Let me down ! let me down ! . GOLAUD. Come; we will go and see what has happened. [Exeunt.] 1o3 Act IV ACT IV. SCENE 1. A Passage in the Castle. [Enter, meeting, PELLEAS and MELISANDA.] PEL LEAS. Where are you going? you this evening. I must speak with Shall I see you? MELISANDA. Yes. PELLEAS. I have just left my father's room. He is better. The doctor has told us that he is out of danger. Yet this morning I had a foreboding that the day would end ill. some time has becnl buzzinl( Misfortune for in nmy cars . Then, there suddenly came a great change; it 107 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iv. is now merely a question of time. They have opened all the windows of his room. speaks; he seems happy. He He still does not speak like an ordinary man; but his ideas no longer all world . .. seem to come from He has recognised me. the other He took my hand and said with that strange look he has worn ever since his illness: "Is that you, Pelleas? Why now, I never noticed it before, but you have got the sad kindly face of one that has not long to live ... you must travel . . You must travel; ." Strange; I shall obey him . . . My mother was listening, and wept for joy.-Haven't you noticed? The house already seems to have come to life again, one hears breathing about one, speech, and the sound of footsteps . .. Listen; I hear voices behind that door. Quick, quick, answer me, where shall I see you ? MELISANDA. Where would you like ? Io8 Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. PELLEAS. In the park; near blindman's well?-Are you willing ?-Will you come ? MELISANDA. Yes. PELLEAS. It is the last evening;-I am going to travel, as my father said. You will never see me again . MELISANDA. You must not say that, Pelleas . . . I shall see you always; I shall be looking at you always . PELLEAS. It will be all very well to look . .. I shall be so far away that you will never be able to see me . . . I shall try to go very far . I am filled with joy, and it seems as if I had the whole weight of heaven and earth on my body, to-day . og09 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA Act iv. MELISAN I)A. What is the matter, Pelleas?--I no longer understand what you say . PELLEAS. Go, go, let us part. door . I hear voices behind that . The strangers castle this morning that arrived are going out . . . at the Come away; the strangers are there . [aEeunt severally.] SCENE II. A Room in the Castle. [ARKEL and MELISANDA are discovered.] ARKEL. Now that the father of Pelleas is out of danger, and that illness, death's ancient handmaid, has left the castle, a little joy and a little 1IO Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. sunlight at last will again... It come into the house was full time! For, ever since your arrival, we have lived whispering, as it were. about a closed room ... And indeed, I have pitied you, Melisanda . . . You arrived here all joyous, like a child in search of a merrymaking, and as soon as you entered the hall I saw you change face, and prohably soul too, just as one changes face, in spite of oneself, on entering at midday a cave too gloomy and too cold ... And then, because of all longer make you since then, since this, often, I could no out . . . I watched you, you stood there, careless perhaps, but with the strange bewildered look of one that was ever expecting a great sorrow, out shine, in a fair garden myself .. . But I ... in the sun- I cannot explain grieved to see you; for you are too young and too beautiful to live inhaling day and night already the breath of death ... But now all will be changed. At my age,-and this perhaps is the surest fruit of all III Act iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. my life,-at my pge I have acquired I know not what faith in the constancy of events, and I have always observed that each young and beautiful being, shapes around it events that are themselves young, beautiful, and happy ... And it is you, now, that are going to open the door to the new era I dimly foresee . . Come here; why do you stand there without answering and without so much as lifting your eyes ?-I have kissed you but once until this day; and yet old men have need to touch sometimes with their lips the brow of a woman or the cheek of a child, that they may believe again in the freshness of life and repel for an instant the menaces . . . Do you fear my lips ? How I have pitied you all these months! . MELISANDA. Grandfather, I was not unhappy . ARKEL. You were perhaps of those that are unhappy 112 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. without knowing it . . . and those are the most unhappy . . . Let me look at you so, quite close, a moment . . . One stands in such need of beauty when death is at one's side . [Enter GOLAUD.] GOLAUD. Pelleas leaves this evening. ARKEL, There is blood upon your forehead.-What have you been doing? GOLAUD. Nothing, nothing . . . I have been through a hedge of thorns. MELISANDA. Bend down your head a little, my lord . . . I will wipe your brow . GOLAUD [repulsing her]. I will not have you touch me, do you hear? 113 8 Act iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Go away, go away !-I am not speaking to you. Where is my sword ?-1 came to fetch my sword . . MELISANDA. Here; on the prayer-desk. GOLAUD. Bring it. [To ARKEL.] Another poor wretch has just been found on the sea-shore, starved to death. It seems as if they were all bent on dying under our very eyes-[ To SANDA.] Well, trembling ?--I my sword ?-Why MELI- are you am not going to kill you. merely want to examine the blade. use a sword for such things. I do not Why are you examining me as if I were some beggar ? not come to ask your alms. I I have Do you hope to read something in my eyes, without my reading anything in yours ?-Do you think that I know anything ?-[ To ARKEL.] Do you see those wide eyes? One would say they were proud to be rich . I14 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. ARKEL. I see nothing there but great il nocence GOLAUD. Great innocence! than innocence! . . . They . greater They are purer than the eyes of a lamb . . . They could in innocence to God! are give lessons Great innocence! Listen; I am so near to them that I feel the freshness of their lids when they blink; and yet, I am less far from the great secrets of the other world than from the least secret of those eyes! . Great innocence! . . . More than innocence! It almost seems as if the angels of heaven were eternally celebrating a baptism there . . . I know them, those eyes ! I have seen them at work ! Close them ! close them ! or I shall close them for long . . -Don't put your right hand up to your throat; I am saying a very simple thing ... I have no double thoughts ... If I had a double thought why should I not not say it ? Ah ! ah !-don't try to run away !115 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iv. Here !-Give me that hand !-Ah ! your hands are too hot . . . Go away! Your flesh disgusts me . . Here !-There is no question now of running away !-[Heseizes her by the hair.]-You are going to follow me on your knees!-On your knees !-On your knees before me !-Ah ! ah! your long hair serves some purpose at last! ,. . First to the right and then to the left ! -Absolom! Absolom !-Forward ! backward ! Down to the ground ! down to the ground !. . . You see, you see ; I am already laughing like an old man . ARKEL [runningforward]. Golaud ! . GOLAUD [affecting-a sudden ca/rn]. You shall do as you please, do you see.-I attach no importance to it.-I am too old; and then, I am not a spy. chance I shall wait to see what brings, and then . . . Oh! then ! . merely because it is the custom; merely because it is the custom . . . [Exit.] Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. ARKEL. What is the matter with him ?-Is he drunk ? MELISANDA [in tears]. No, no; but he does more . not I am not happy! love me any . I am not happy . ARKEL. If I were God I should pity thc hecart of SCENE III. A Terrace before the Castle. [LITTLE YNIOLD is dis- covered trying to lift a piece of rock.] LITTLE YNIOLD. Oh! this stone is heavy! ... than I am . . . It is I17 heavicr It is heavier than all the PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. world ... It happened .. is . heavier I can than see my Act iv. all that has golden ball between the rock and this naughty stone, and I cannot reach it . . My little arm is not long cnough . . . and the stone will not be lifted . .. I cannot lift it could lift it . house . . . and there is nobody that . It is heavier than the whole one might think it had roots in the [The bleating of a flock is heard earth ... in the distance.] Oh! oh! crying . I hear some sheep [He goes to the edge of the terrace to look.] Why! the sun has gone away . They are coming, the little sheep; they are coming . . . How many there are! many there are! ... dark . They huddle together! They are afraid of the huddle . . . . How together ! They They can hardly walk any further . . . They are crying ! they are crying ! and they are running fast . . . running fast! . They are already at the big cross-road. ah! They Ah ! They don't know which way to go . are not crying II8 now ... They . are Sc. iii. PELLEAS AND MELISAN.DA. waiting... There are some turn to the right . that want . They all want to turn to the right . . . They may not!... Their shepherd is throwing earth at them.. ah ! to Ah! They are going to pass this way Thw-y are obeying ! They are obeying . They are going to pass in front of the terrace .. . are going to pass in front of the rocks . . I shall see them close . are ! . . How road is full They . Oh! oh! how many there many there of them . now . , . Shepherd! are . ,. All the . They are all silent shepherd! why don't they talk any more ? THE SHEPHERD [unseen]. Because it is no longer the way to the fold . YNIOLD. Where are they going? Shepherd! shep- herd !-where are they going?-He does not hear me. They are They are already too far away . running fast ... 119 They make . no PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. noise now . . . It is Act iv. no longer the way to the fold . . . Where will they sleep to-night, I wonder? I shall Oh! oh! go and It is too dark here ! say something to . some- body . [Exit.] SCENE IV. A Spring in the Park. [ELnter PELLEAS.] PELLEAS. It is the last evening . .. the last even- ing . . . All must end here . . . I have played like a child about a thing I did not suspect . I have played, dreaming, of destiny . waked me? about the pitfalls . VWho is it that suddenly has I shall take flight shrieking with joy and pain, as a blind man might flee from the burning of his house . . . I shall tell her that I am taking flight . . . My father is out I20 Sc. iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. of danger, and I have not now wherewith to lie to myself . It is late; she is not coming . . it would be better for me to go without seeing her again . this time remember . . I must look at her well . There are things . . One would think had not seen her for a hundred I cannot at times I years . And I have not yet gazed at her gaze . . . I shall have nothing left if I go away so. And all these memories . . . it is as if I were to carry away a little water in a muslin bag . I must see her one last time, see down into the depths of her heart . I must say all that I have not said . [Enter MELISANDA.] MELISANDA. Pelleas ! PELLEAS. Melisanda ! Is it you, Melisanda? MELISANDA. Yes. 12I PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iv. PELLEAS. Come here; don't stand there at the edge of the moonlight. Come here. We have so much to say to one another . .. Come here into the shadow of the lime-tree. MELISANDA. Leave me inl the light PELLEAS. They might see us from the turret windows. Come here; here we have. nothing to fear. Take care; they might see us MELISANDA. I want them to see me . PELLEAS. Why, what is the matter with you? you able to leave unseen ? MELISANDA. Yes; your brother was asleep 122 . Were Sc. iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. PELLEAS. It is late. doors. In an hour they will close the We must take care. Why did you come so late ? MELISANDA. Your brother had a bad dream. my dress calglht in tlh it is torn. nails And then of the d(or. Look, All that time I lost, and I ran . PELLEAS. My poor Melisanda!... I should almost be afraid to touch you . . . you are still all out of breath like a hunted bird . . . Is it for me, for me that you do all this? . . . I hear your heart beat as if it were my own . Come here . . . closer, closer to me . MELISANDA. Why are you laughing? PELLEAS. I am not laughing;--or else I am laughing I23 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. for joy, without knowing it .. Act iv. There is rather cause to weep . MELISANDA. We have been here before ... I remember ... PELLEAS. Yes . . . yes . .. Long months ago . Then, I did not know , . . Do you know why I asked you to come this evening? MELISANDA. No. PELLEAS. It is the last time I shall see you, perhaps ... I have to go away for cver MELISANDA. Why do you always say that you are going ? ... PELLEAS. Must I tell you what you know already? Don't you know what I am going to tell you ? MELISANDA. Indeed not, indeed not; I know notling . 124 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. iv. PELLEAS. Don't you know why I have to go away? Don't you know that it is because.. . [He kisses her abruptly.] . . . I love you . MELISANDA [in a low voice]. I love you too . PELLEAS. Oh! oh! What did you say, Melisanda?... I hardly heard what you said . . . The ice has been broken with red-hot irons . . . You say that in a voice that comes from the end of the world ! . me? . I hardly heard you . .. You love me too? ... You love Since when have you loved me ? MELISANDA. Since . . . always . . . Since I first saw you. PELLEAS. Oh! how you say that! . . One would say that your voice had passed over the sea in springtime! . .. I never heard it 125 until now . . . it PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iv. seems as if rain had fallen on my heart . You say that so simply ! ... angel might sanda. . As a questioned I cannot believe it, Meli- . . Why should you love me? But why do you love me? Is it true what you say? You are not deceiving me? You are not lying just a little, to make me smile? . MELISANDA. No, I never lie; I only lie to your brother. PELLEAS. Oh! how you say that! ... your voice! . . Your voice! It is fresher and truer than water ! . . It feels like pure water on my lips! .. It feels like pure water on my hands . . . Give me, give me your hands .,. are small . .. Oh! your hands I did not know you were so beautiful! . . . I had never seen anything so beautiful before I saw you . . . I was ill at ease, I sought throughout the house, I sought throughout the country 126 . And I could not Sc. iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. find beauty... And now I have found you ! I have found you! . . . I don't believe earth holds a more beautiful woman! .. . Where are you ? I no longer hear you breathe . MELISANDA. That is because I am looking at you . PELLEAS. Why are you looking at me so solemnly? We are already in the shade. under this tree. It is too dark Come into the light. cannot see how happy we are. We Come, come; we have so little time . MELISANDA. No, no; let us stay here ;.. you in the dark . I am nearer to . PELLEAS. Where are your eyes? run away from me? You are not going to You are not thinking of me at this moment. 127 Act iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. -MELISANDA. Indeed yes, indeed yes ; I think but of you .. , PELLEAS. You were looking elsewhere . . MELISANDA. I saw you elsewhere . PELLEAS. You are rapt... What is the matter with you ? You seem not to be happy . MELISANDA. Yes, yes; I am happy, but I am sad . PELLEAS. One is sad, often, when one loves . MELISANDA. I must always weep when I think of you . PELLEAS. I too . . I too, Melisanda . . . I am close to you; I weep for joy, and yet . . . [He kisses 128 Sc. iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. her again] . . . you are strange when I kiss you so.. You are so beautiful that one would say you were going to die . MELISANDA. You too PELLEAS. There, there . .. . We cannot do as we wish ... I did not love you the first time I saw you ... MELISANDA. Nor I . . . nor I . . . I was afraid . PELLEAS. I could not of admit your eyes . . . I wanted to go away at once . . . and then . . I still don't I never w know why, I N There are so many things one will never know . . . We are always 129 waiting; and 9 Act iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. then . . . What noise is thtt? closing the doors! They are . MELISANDA. Yes, they have closed the doors . PELLEAS. We shall not be able to go back! hear the bolts? Listen ! Do you listen! . . . the big chains! . . the big chains! . . it is too late! It is too late, MELISANDA. All the better! all the better! all the better! .. PELLEAS. You ? . .. no longer we S who wish it! s saved ! all's saved this cx ome ... My ght up at my heart beats lil [He enfolds h1er.] Listen ! listen! my heart is about to choke me . . . Come! throat . . . 130 Sc. iv. come! . .. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Ah! how beautiful it is in the dark! . MELISANDA. There is some one behind us! . PELLEAS. I see no one . MELISANDA. I heard a noise . PELLEAS. I only hear your heart in the dark . MELISANDA. I heard the dead leaves crackle . PELLEAS. It is the wind that has hushed suddenly . It fell whilst we were kissing . . . M ELISANDA. How tall our shadows are this evening! . PELLEAS. They entwine right down to the end of the I3I PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act iv. garden . . . Oh! how far from us they kiss! ... Look! look! . . MELISANDA [in stifled voice]. A-a-h! He is behind a tree! PELLEAS. Who? MELISANDA. Golaud ! PELLEAS. Golaud ?-where then ?-I see nothing . MELISANDA. There , . at the tip of our shadows . PELLEAS. Yes, yes; I have seen him . . . We must not turn round too suddenly . MELISANDA. He has his sword . . PELLEAS. I have none . . 132 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. iv. MELISANDA. He saw that we were kissing . PELLEAS. He does not know that we have seen him . Do not move; do not turn your head . .. would rush out upon us . . lihe He will stay there as long as he thinks we know nothing . He is watching less . . . Go, go us . . . He is at once, this still way motion... I will wait for him, I will hold him back , MELISANDA. No, no, no! . PELLEAS. He has seen everything! . . Go! go! will kill us ! . He . MELISANDA. All better ! all the better ! . . 133 the better ! all the Act iv. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. PELLEAS: He is coming! mouth! .. he is coming! .. . Your . . Your mouth! . MELISANDA. Yes! .. . yes! yes! . . . [ They kiss distractedly.] PELLEAS. Oh! oh! All the stars are falling! . MELISANDA. On me too! on me too! . PELLEAS. Again! Again! . . . Give ! give! MELISANDA. All! all! all! [GOLAUD rushes upon them, sword in hand, andstrikes PELLEAS, who falls beside the spring. MELISANDA flies ter,. r-stricken.] 134 Sc. iv. ,PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA Oh! oh! I am not [Yfyilng]. brave . I am not brave! . . [GOLAUD pursues through the in silence.] 135 her wood Act y. ACT V. SCENE I, A low hall in the Castle. [7he Maid-servants are discovered gathered together, some children are playing outside, before one of t/ze air-holes.] AN OLD SERVANT. Wait and see, wait and see, girls; it will be this evening. They will come and tell us presently . ANOTHER SERVANT. They will not come and tell us .. no longer know what they are about . 139 . They PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. THIRD SERVANT. Let us wait here . FOURTH SERVANT. We shall know well enough when to go upstairs . FIFTH SERVANT. When the time comes, we will go up of our own accord . SIXTH SERVANT. There is no sound to be heard now in the house . SEVENTH SERVANT. We ought to tell those children to be quiet who are playing in front of the air-hole. EIGHTH SERVANT. They will keep quiet of themselves presently. NINTH SERVANT. The time has not yet come . [Enter an old Servant.] 140 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. i. THE OLD SERVANT. No one listened can get into the room for over an hour... One now. I might have heard the flies walk on the doors... I heard nothing . FIRST SERVANT. Have they left her alone in the room? THE OLD SERVANT. No, no; I think the room is full of people. FIRST SERVANT. They will be coming, they will be coming presently . THE OLD SERVANT. Lord! Lord! It is not happiness that has entered the house . . . One may not speak, but if I could tell what I know . . . SECOND SERVANT. It was you that found them at the door? 141 Act v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. THE OLD SERVANT. Why yes, yes; it was I that found them. The doorkeeper says it was he that saw them first; yet it was I that waked him. He was lying asleep on his stomach and would not wake up.-And now he comes and says: It was I that saw them first. Is that fair ?-You must know that I had burnt myself lighting a lamp to go down into the cellar. -Whatever was I going to do in the cellar ?-I can't remember now what I was going to do in the cellar.-Anyway, I got up very early; it was not yet quite light; I said to myself: I will cross the courtyard and then I will open the door. Well, I went downstairs on tip-toe and opened the door as if it Lord ! Lord! I saw? . were any ordinary door . What did I see? Guess what . FIRST SERVANT. They were just in front of the door ? 142 . Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. THE OLD SERVANT. They were lying, both of them, in front of the door! ... Just like poor folk that have been hungry too long . . . They were clinging close together as little children do when they are afraid. The little princess was nearly dead, and big Golaud still had his sword sticking in his side . . There was blood on the stones . SECOND SERVANT. We ought to tell the children to be quiet . They are screaming with all their might in front of the air-hole . THIRD SERVANT. One can no longer hear what one is say- ing . FOURTH SERVANT. There is nothing to be done; I have tried already, they will not be quiet . FIRST SERVANT. It seems that he is all but cured ? 143 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. THE OLD SERVANT. Who ? FIRST SERVANT. Big Golaud. THIRD SERVANT. Yes, yes; they have led him into his wife's room. I met them just now in the passage. They were supporting him as if he were drunk. He still cannot walk alone. THE OLD SERVANT. He could not manage to kill himself; he is too big. But she was hardly wounded at all, and it is she that is going to die . . . Do you understand it ? FIRST SERVANT. Did you see the wound? THE OLD SERVANT. As clearly as I see you, my girl.--I saw everything, do you understand . . . I saw it before any of the others ... A tiny little wound in 144 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. i. her lttle would A left breast. not kill a that little wound pigeon. Does it seem natural ? FIRST SERVANT. Yes, yes; there is something beneath all this . SECOND SERVANT. Yes; but she was confined three days ago . THE OLD SERVANT. Just so! . .. She was confined on her death- bed: is not that a great warning ?-.And what a child! Have you seen it?-A little puny girl that a beggar would not care to bring into the world . . . a little waxen thing that came much too soon . . . a little waxen thing that has to live in lamb's wool . . . yes, yes; it is not happiness that has entered the house . . FIRST SERVANT. Yes, yes; God's hand has moved . 145 10 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA, Act v. SECOND SERVANT, All this has not happened for no reason . THIRD SERVANT. And then our kind lord Pelleas . . . where is he? Nobody knows . THE OLD SERVANT. Indeed, yes; every one knows... But no one dares speak of it . . . One must not speak of this . .. one must not speak of that . . . one no speaks longer of anything... longer speaks the truth.., one no But I know that he was found at the bottom of blindman's well . . only nobody, nobody has been able to get a sight of him . . There, there, it is only on the last day that all will be known . FIRST SERVANT. I dare no longer sleep here . . TIlE OLD SERVANT. When once misfortune has entered the house, it's all very well to hold one's peace . . 146 Sc. i. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. THIRD SERVANT. Yes; it finds you out all the same . THE OLD SERVANT. Yes, yes; but we go not as we would . FOURTH SERVANT. We do not as we would . FIRST SERVANT. They are afraid of us now . SECOND SERVANT. They keep counsel, all of them . THIRD SERVANT. They lower their eyes in the passages. FOURTH SERVANT. They speak in whispers only. FIFTH SERVANT. One might think they had all done together. SIXTII SERVANT. There is no knowing what they have done . 147 it Act v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. SEVENTH SERVANT. What is one to do when the masters are afraid? . [Silence.] FIRST SERVANT. I no longer hear the children calling. SECOND SERVANT. They have sat down in front of the air-hole. THIRD SERVANT. They are pressing close to one another. THE OLD SERVANT. I hear no sound now in the house . . . FIRST SERVANT. One cannot even hear the children breathe . . THE OLD SERVANT. Come, come; it is time to go upstairs . [Exeunt, in silence.] 148 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. II. SCENE A Room in the Castle. [ARKEL, GOLAUD, DOCTOR and the are discovered in a corner of the room, MELISANDA is lying on her bed.] THE DOCTOR. It is not of this small wound that she could die; a bird would not die of it . . it is there- fore not you that have killed her, my good lord; you must not distress yourself so . . . She could not have lived . . She was born for no reason... to die; and now she is dying for no reason . . . And then, it is not said that we shall not save her . ARKEL. No, no; it seems to me that we are too silent, in spite of ourselves, in her room . . It is a bad sign ... slowly, See how she sleeps . 149 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. slowly . . . it is as if her soul had grown chill for ever . GOLAUD. I have killed without cause! without cause! . . I have killed Is it not enough to make the stones weep! . . . They had kissed each other. like little children . . . They had simply kissed each other . . . They were brother and sister . . . And I, and I all at once! ... it in spite of myself, you see . I did . I did it in spite of myself . THE DOCTOR, Take care; I think she is waking . MELISANDA. Open the window . . . open the window . ARKEL. Do you wish me to open this one, Melisanda ? MELISANDA. No, no, the big window.. . the big window . that I may see . 150 . Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. ARKEL. Is the sea air not too cold this evening ? THE DOCTOR. Do as she asks . MELISANDA. Thank you . . . Is that the sun setting? ARKEL. Yes; the sun is setting on the sea; it is late. How are you feeling, Melisanda ? MELISANDA. Well, well. Why do you ask me that? have never felt better. I Yet it seems as if I knew of something . ARKEL. What do you say? I don't understand you ... MELISANDA. I don't myself understand all that I say, do you see.. I don't know what I say... 151 I PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. I no longer say don't know what I know... what I wish . ARKEL. Come now, come now ... It is a joy to hear you speak so; you were a little delirious these last days, and we could not always understand you . . But now, that is all very far away . MELISANDA. I don't know . . Are you all alone in the room, grandfather? ARKEL. No; the doctor who cured you is here too . MELISANDA. Ah . ARKEL. And then there is some one else besides . MELISANDA. Who is it ? ARKEL. It is... You must not be afraid ... 152 He Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. does not wish you the least harm, be sure of it . . . If you are afraid, he will go away . He is very unhappy . MELISANDA. Who is it? ARKEL. It is . . it . is your husband . it is Golaud . MELISANDA. Golaud is here? Why does he not come close to me? GOLAUD himself towards the bed]. [dragging- Melisanda... Melisanda . MELISANDA. Is that you, Golaud ? I hardly knew you again . . . It is that the evening sun is shining in my eyes walls? . . . Why are you looking at the You have grown thinner and older . Is it long since we saw each other? GOLAUD [to ARKEL and the DOCTOR]. Will you go out of the room an instant, if you '53 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. please, if you please .. Act v. I will leave the door wide open . . . An instant only . . . I want to say something to her; otherwise I cannot die... Will you? Go down to the end of the passage; you can come back at once, at once . . . Do not refuse me this . . . I am a miserable wretch. DOCTOR.] [Exeunt ARKEL and the Melisanda, have you some pity for me, as I have for you? . . Melisanda? . Do you forgive me, Melisanda ? . MELISANDA. Yes, yes, I forgive you... What is there to forgive? . GOLAUD. I have done you such great wrong, Melisanda . I cannot tell you the wrong I have done you . . But I see it, I see it so clearly to-day ... ever since the first day . . . And all that hitherto I did not know, leaps into my eyes this evening . . . And it is all my fault, all that has happened, all 154 that is going to Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. happen ... If I could only say it, you would see how clearly I see! ... I see all, I see all !... But I loved you so! ... so ! . . And now some one is going to die . It is I that am going to die . . I loved you And I want to know . . . I want to ask you . . not take it amiss ? . . I want . .. You will The truth has to be told to one about to die . . . He has to know the truth, else he could not sleep . Do you swear to tell me the truth ? MELISANDA. Yes. GOLAUD. Did you love Pelleas ? MELISANDA. Why yes: I loved him. Where is he? GOLAUD. Don't you understand me? stand me? Won't you under- It seems to me . . it seems to me . . Well, it is this: I ask you whether you loved him with a forbidden love? . . . Did you 155 . . Act v. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. were you guilty? Tell me; tell me, yes, yes, yes? MELISANDA. No, no; we were not guilty. Why do you ask me that ? GOLAUD. Melisanda ! . . . tell me the truth, for the love of God! MELISANDA. Why have I not told you the truth? GOLAUD. Do not lie thus in the hour of death! MELISANDA. Who is going to die ?-Is it I ? GOLAUD. You, you! and I, I too, after you! we must have the truth . . .We 156 . . . And must at last Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. have the truth, do you hear? . . . Tell me all! Tell me all! I forgive you all! MELISAN DA. I did not know... Why am I going to die? GOLAUD. You know it now! Quick! time! . . . It quick! .. is time! . The It is truth! the truth! . MELISANDA. The truth . . the truth . GOLAUD. Where are you? you? Melisanda! This is not natural! are you? Melisanda! Where are you going? ARKEL and the DOCTOR Where are Where [Perceiving at the door of the room.] Yes, yes; you can come in . . . I know nothing; it is useless . . . It is too late; she is already too far from us . . . I shall never 157 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. know! . . I shall die here like a Act v. blind man!... ARKEL. What have you done? You will kill her . GOLAUD. I have already killed her . ARKEL. Melisanda . MELISANDA. Is that you, grandfather ? ARKEL. Yes, my daughter . . . What would you like me to do? MELISANDA. Is it true that winter is here ? ARKEL. Why do you ask it? 158 Sc, ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. Because it is cold and there are no leaves left , ARKEL. Are you cold ?-Would you like to have the windows shut ? MELISANDA. No, no . . . not until the sun is deep in the sea.-He is going down slowly; then it is true that winter has begun ? ARKEL. Yes.-Don't you like the winter? MELISANDA. Oh! no. I am frightened of the cold.-I am so frightened of the great cold . ARKEL. Do you feel better? 159 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. MELISANDA. Yes, yes; I no longer feel all those anxieties . ARKEL. Would you like to see your child ? MELISANDA. What child ? ARKEL. Your child.-Yogu are a mother ... You have brought a little girl into the world . MELISANDA. Where is she ? ARKEL. Here . MELISANDA. It is strange . . . I cannot lift my arms to take her . ARKEL. That is because you are still very weak I will hold her myself; look . . 16o . Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. MELISANDA. She is not smiling . . . She is little is going to cry too . . . She I pity her . [ The room is invaded, little by little, by the maidservants, who range themselves in si'ence along the walls and wait.] GOLAUD [risingabruptly]. What is it ?-What are all these women doing here? TIlE DOCTOR. They are the servants . ARK E L. Who called for them ? THE DOCTOR. It was not I . 161 II PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. GOLAUD. Why have you come here ?-Nobody asked for you . . . What are you doing here ?-But what is it then ? Answer! . . . [ The servants answer nothling ] ARKEL. Don't speak too loud... She is going to sleep; she has closed her eyes . GOLAUD. This is not . . .? THE DOCTOR. No, no; see, she breathes . ARK EL. Her eyes are full of tears.-It is now her soul that weeps ... Why is she spreading oit her arms ?-What does she want ? THE DOCTOR. It is towards the child, no doubt. mother's struggle against . 162 It is the PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Sc. ii. GOLAUD. Now ?-now ?- -You speak! must say it, speak! . TIHE DOCTOR. Perhaps. GOLAUD. At once? . .. Oh ! Oh ! I must tell her ... Melisanda ! Melisanda! . . . Leave me! leave me alone with her! . . . ARKEL. No, no; come no nearer . . . Do not trouble her ... Do not speak to her again... You know not what the soul is . GOLAUD. It is not my fault . . . It is not my fault. ARKEL. Hush.,. Hush . . . We must speak in whispers, now.-We must trouble her no more ... The human soul is very silent . . . The human soul likes to slip away in solitude . . . It suffers so timidly.. B ut the sadness, Golaud . 163 PELLEAS AND MELISANDA. Act v. but the sadness of all that one sees! . . . Oh! oh! oh! . [Here all the servantsfall suddenly on to their knees at the end of the room.] ARKELJ [turning]. What is it ? THE DOCTOR [approaching the bed and touching the body]. They are right . [Long silence.] ARKEL. I saw nothing.-Are you sure ? TIIE DOCTOR. Yes, yes. ARKEL. I heard nothing . . . So swiftly, so swiftly . All at once ... She has gone away without a word . GOLAUD [sobbing]. Oh! oh! oh! 164 Sc. ii. PELLEAS AND MELISANL. ARK E L. Do not stay here, Golaud... She needs silence, now . . . Come, come . . It is terrible, but it is not your fault . . . It was a little -entlc being so quiet, so timid, and so silent . .. It was a poor little mysterious being, like all the world . . . She lies there as if she were her own child's big sister . . Come, come . O God! O God! . . . I too shall understand none of it . . . Let us go from here. Come; the child must not stay here, in this room . It must live now, in her stead ... The poor little one's turn has come [Exeunt in silence.] [TIE END.] 165 The Sigkless. Personls. THE PRIEST. THREE THAT WERE BORN BLIND. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN, THE FIFTH BLIND MAN. THE SIXTH BLIND MAN. THREE OLD BLIND WOMEN PRAYING. THE OLDEST BLIND W OMAN A YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. A MAD BLIND WOMAN. THE SIGHTLESS. A very ancient nor/thernforest, eternalof as/ect, beneath a sky profoundly starred.-In the midst, and towards the dept/s of nighkt, a very old priest is seated wralped in a zwide black cloak. His kead and the upper part of kis body, s/ligtly thrown back and mortrlly stil, are leaning against the bo.'e of an oak tree, huge and cavernous. His face is fearfully pale and of an inalterable waxen lividity; his violet lips are parted. His eyes, dumb andfxed, no longer gaze at the visib.'e side of eternity, and seem bleeding beneath a multitude of immemorial sorrows and of tears. His hair, f mosi solemn while, falls in stif and scanty locks upon a face more illumined and more weary than all else that surrounds it in the intent silence of * -loomy frrest. His hands, extremely lean, are rigidly clazsed on his lap.-To the ri-ght, six old blind men are seated upon stones, the stunips of trees, and dead leaves.--To the left, separated from them by an uprooted tree and fragments of rock, six women, blind also, are seated facing the old 169 THE SIGHTLESS. men. Three of them are praying and wailing in hollozw voice and without pause. Another is extremely old. The fift, in an attitude of mute insanity, holds on her knees a little ckild asleep. The sixth is strangely young, and her hair inundates her whole being. The women, as well as the old men, are clothed in anple garments, of them sit waitsombre and uniform. ing with their elbows on their knees and their faces between their hands; and all seem to have lost the habit of useless gesture, and no longer turn their heads at the stifed and iestless noises of the island. Great funereal trees, yews, weeping willows, cypresses, enwrap them in their faithful shadows. Not far from the priest, a cluster of long and sickly daffodils blossoms in the night. It is extraordinarily dark in sfpite of the moonlight that here and there strives to dispel for a while Ihe gloom of the foliage. Afost FIRST BLIND MAN. Is he not coming yet? SECOND BLIND MAN. You have waked me! FIRST BLIND MAN. I was asleep too. 170 THE SIGHTLESS. TIIRD BLIND MAN. I was asleep too. FIRST BLIND MAN. Is he not coming yet? SECOND BLIND MAN. I hear nothing coming. TIHIRD BLIND MAN. It must be about time to go back to the asylum. FIRST BLIND MAN. We want to know where we are! SECOND BLIND MAN. It has grown cold since he left. FIRST BLIND MAN. We want to know whcre we are! TIlE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Does any one know where we are? I7I THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. We were walking a very long time; we must be very far from the asylum. FIRST BLIND MAN. Ah! the women are opposite us? TIlE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. We are sitting opposite you. FIRST BLIND MAN. Wait, I will come next to you. [He rises and gropes about.] Where are you? Speak! that I may hear where you are! THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Here; we are sitting on stones. FIRST BLIND MAN. [He steps forward, stumbling against the fallen tree and the rocks.] There is something between us . SECOND BLIND MAN. It is better to stay where one is! 172 THE SIGHTLESS. TIIRD BLIND MAN. Where are you sitting? Do you want to come over to us? THIE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. We dare not stand up! THIRD BLIND MAN. Why did he separate us? FIRST BLIND MAN. I hear praying on the women's side. SECOND BLIND MAN. Yes; the three old women are praying. FIRST BLIND MAN. This is not the time to pray! SECOND BLIND MAN. You can pray by-and-by in the dormitory! [ The three old zeomenl contijz/e their prayers.] 173 THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. I should like to know next to whom I am sitting ? SECOND BLIND MAN. I think I am next you. [ They grope about them zwith their hands.] THIRD BLIND MAN. We cannot touch each other. FIRST BLIND MAN. And yet we are not far apart. [He groes about him, and wit/ his stick hits the fifth/ blind man, zvho gives a dull moan.] The one who cannot hear is sitting next us. SECOND BLIND MAN. I don't hear everybody; we were six just now. FIRST BLIND MAN, I am beginning to make things out. Let us question the women too; it is necessary that 174 THE SIGHTLESS. we should know how matters stand. I still hear the three old women praying; are they sitting together ? TIlE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. They are sitting beside me, on a rock. FIRST BLIND MAN. I am sitting on dead leaves! THIRD BLIND MAN. And the beauty, where is she ? THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. She is near those that are praying. SECOND BLIND MAN. Where are the mad woman and her child? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. He is asleep; don't wake him! FIRST BLIND MAN. Oh! how far from us you are ! I thought you were just opposite me! 175 THE SIGHTLESS. TIIRD BLIND MAN. We know, more or less, all that we need know; let us talk a little, till the priest comes back. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. He told us to await him in silence. TIIRD BLIND MAN. We are not in a church. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. You don't know where we are. THIRD BLIND MAN. I feel frightened when I am not talking. SECOND BLIND MAN. Do you know where the priest has gone? THIRD BLIND MAN. It seems to me that he is leaving us alone too lon g. FIRST BLIND MAN. He is growing too old. It appears that he has hardly been able to see for some time him176 THE SIGHTLESS. self. He will not own it, for fear that another should come and take his place among us; but I suspect that he can hardly see any more. We ought to have another guide; he never listens to us now, and we are becoming too many for him. The three nuns and he are the only ones in the house that can see; and they are all older than we are!-I am sure that he has led us astray, and is trying to find the way again. Where can he have gone ?-He has no right to leave us here . TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. He has gone very far; I think he said so to the women. FIRST BLIND MAN. Then he only speaks to the women now?Do we not exist any more ?-We shall have to complain in the end! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. To whom will you carry your complaint ? 177 12 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. I don't yet know; we shall see, we shall see.-But where can he have gone ?-I am asking it of the women. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. He was tired, having walked so long. I think he sat down a moment in our midst. He has been very sad and very weak for some days. He has been uneasy since the doctor died. is lonely. He hardly ever speaks. what can have happened. He I don't know He insisted on going out to-day. He said he wanted to see the Island one last time, in the sun, before winter came. It appears that the winter will be very cold and very long, and that ice is already coming down from the north. He was anxious too; they say that the great storms of these last days have swelled the stream, and that all the dykes are giving way. He said too that the sea frightened him; it appears to be agitated for no reason, and the cliffs of the Island are not high enough. 178 THE SIGHTLESS. He wanted to see for himself; but he did not tell us what he saw.-I think he has gone now to fetch some bread and water for the mad woman. He said that he would perhaps have to go very far. We shall have to wait. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. He took my hands on leaving; and his hands trembled as if he were afraid. Then he kissed me . FIRST BLIND MAN. Oh! oh! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I asked him what had happened. He told me that he did not know what was going to happen. He told me that the old men's reign was coming to an end, perhaps . FIRST BLIND MAN. What did he mean by that ? TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I did not understand him. He told me that he was going towards the great lighthouse. 179 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. Is there a lighthouse here? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Yes, north of the Island. I think we are not far from it. He told me that he could see the light of the beacon falling here, upon the leaves. He never seemed to me sadder than to-day, and I think that for some days he had been crying. I don't know why, but I cried too, without seeing him. I did not hear him go. question him further. I did not I could hear that he was smiling too solemnly; I could hear that he was closing his eyes and wished for silence . FIRST BLIND MAN. He said nothing to us of all this! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. You never listen to him when he speaks! TIlE OLDEST BIIND WOMAN. You all murmur when he speaks! 18o THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. He merely said " Good-night" on leaving. THIRD BLIND MAN. It must be very late. FIRST BLIND MAN. He said "Good-night " two or three times on leaving, as if he were going to sleep. I could hear that he was looking at me when he said, "Good-night; good-night."-The voice changes when one looks at some one fixedly. FIFTH BLIND MAN. Have pity on those that cannot see ! FIRST BLIND MAN. Who is talking in that senseless way ? SECOND BLIND MAN. I think it is the one who cannot hear. FIRST BLIND MAN. Be quiet !-this is not the time to beg ! 18I THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. Where was he going for the bread and water? TILE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. He went towards the sea. THIRD BLIND MAN. One does not walk towards the sea in that way at his age ! SECOND BLIND MAN. Are we near the sea ? THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Yes; be quiet an instant; you will hear it. [A murmur of the sea near at hand and very calm againstthe cliffs.] SECOND BLIND MAN. I only hear the three old women praying. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Listen well, you will hear it through their prayers. 182 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. Yes; I hear something that is not far from uIs. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. It was asleep; it seems as if it were waking. FIRST BLIND MAN. It was wrong of him to lead us here; I don't like hearing that noise. THIIE OLDEST BLIND MAN. You know very well that the Island is not large, and that one can hear it as soon as ever one leaves the walls of the asylum. SECOND BLIND MAN. I never listened to it. THIRD BLIND MAN. It seems to me that it is next us to-day; I don't like hearing it so close. SECOND BLIND MAN. Nor I; besides, we never asked to leave the asylum. 183 THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. We have never been as far as this; it was useless to bring us so far. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. It was very fine this morning; he wanted us to enjoy the last days of sunshine, before shutting us up for the whole winter in the asylum . . FIRST BLIND MAN. But I prefer staying in the asylum ! THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. He said too that we ought to know something of the little Island we live in. HIe himself has never been all over it; there is a mountain that no one has climbed, valleys which no one likes to go down to, and caves that have not been entered to this day. He said, in short, that one must not always sit waiting for the sun under the dormitory roof; he wanted to bring us to the sea-shore. He has gone there alone. 184 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. HIe is right; one must think of living. FIRST BLIND MAN. But there is nothing to see out of doors! SECOND BLIND MAN. Are we in the sun, now ? THIRD BLIND MAN. Is the sun still shining ? SIXTH BLIND MAN. I think not; it seems to me to be very late. SECOND BLIND MAN. What o'clock is it ? THE OTHERS. I don't know.-Nobody knows. SECOND BLIND MAN. Is it still light? [To tlhe sixtlh blind man.] Where are you ?-Come, you who can see a little, come ! 185 THE SIGHTLESS. SIXTH BLIND MAN. I think it is very dark ; when the sun shines, I see a blue line under my eyelids; I saw one a long while ago; but now I can see nothing at all. FIRST BLIND MAN. As for me, I know that it is late when I am hungry, and I am hungry. TIIRD BLIND MAN. But look up at the sky; you will see something, perhaps! [ They all lift their heads towards the sky, save the three that were born blind, who continue to look on the ground.] SIXTH BLIND MAN. I don't know that we are under the sky. FIRST BLIND MAN. Our voices resound as if they were in a cave. 186 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I rather think they resound so because it is evening. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. It seems to me that I feel the moonlight on my hands. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I think there are stars; I hear them. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I too. FIRST BLIND MAN. I can hear no sound. SECOND BLIND MAN. I can only hear the sound of our breathing ! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think the women are right. FIRST BLIND MAN. I never heard the stars. 187 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND AND THIRD BLIND MEN. Neither did I. [A fight of nzlt-birds alights suddenly amidst the foliage.] SECOND BLIND MAN. Listen ! listen !-What is that above us ?-Do you hear ? THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Something passed between the sky and us. SIXTH BLIND MAN. There is something moving above our heads; but we cannot reach it! FIRST BLIND MAN. I don't know the nature of that sound.-I want to go back to the asylum. SECOND BLIND MAN. We want to know where we are ! SIXTIH BLIND MAN. I have tried to stand up; there are thorns, I88 THE SIGHTLESS. nothing but thorns about me; I dare not spread my hands out any more. THIRD BLIND MAN. We want to know where we are ! TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We cannot know it! SIXTH BLIND MAN. We must be very far from the house; I can no longer make out a single noise. TIIIRD BLIND MAN. For a long while, I have smelt the smell of dead leaves. SIXTH BLIND MAN. Did any one of us see the Island in past days, and could he tell us where we are ? THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. We were all blind when we came here. FIRST BLIND MAN. We have never been able to see. 189 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. be unnecessarily Let us not anxious; he will soon return ; let us wait a little longer; but in future, we will not go out with him again. THIE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We cannot go out alone! FIRST BLIND MAN. We will not go out at all, I prefer not going out. SECOND BLIND MAN. We had no wish to go out, nobody had asked to do so. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. It was a holiday on the Island; we always go out on great holidays. TIIRD BLIND WOMAN. He came and hit me on the shoulder when I was still asleep, saying : Get up, get up, it is time, the sun is shining !-Was there any sun ? I was not aware of it. I have never seen the sun. I 90 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I saw the sun when I was very young. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I too; it was long ago; when I was a child; but I hardly remember it now. THIRD BLIND MAN. Why does he want us to go out every time the sun shines? Which of us is any the wiser? I never know whether I am walking out at midday or at midnight. SIXTH BLIND MAN. I prefer going out at midday; I suspect great brightness then, and my eyes make great efforts to open. THIRD BLIND MAN. I prefer staying in the refectory by the coalfire; there was a big fire there this morning . . SECOND BLIND MAN. He could bring us out into the sun in the yard; there one has the shelter of the walls; 191 THE SIGHTLESS. one cannot get out, there is nothing to fear when the door is shut.-I always shut it.-Why did you touch my left elbow? FIRST BLIND MAN. I did not touch you; I cannot reach you. SECOND BLIND MAN. I tell you that somebody touched my elbow. FIRST BLIND MAN. It was none of us. SECOND BLIND MAN. I want to go away ! TIE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. O God! O God ! tell us where we are! FIRST BLIND MAN. We cannot wait here for ever ! [A very distant clock strikes twelve very slo wly.] TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Oh! how far we are from the asylum! 192 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. It is midnight! SECOND BLIND MAN. It is midday !--Does any one know ?- -Speak! SIXTH BLIND MAN. I don't know. But I think we are in the shade. FIRST BLIND MAN. I can long. make nothing out; we slept too SECOND BLIND MAN, I am hungry. THE OTHERS. We are hungry and thirsty ! SECOND BLIND MAN. Have we been here long? TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. It seems to me that I have been here centuries ! 193 13 THE SIGHTLESS. SIXTH BLIND MAN. I am beginning to make out where we are , THIRD BLIND MAN. We ought to go towards where midnight struck. [4A1 the night-birds exult suddenly in the gloom.] FIRST BLIND MAN. Do you hear ?-Do you hear ? SECOND BLIND MAN We are not alone ! THIRD BLIND MAN. I have had my suspicions for a long time; we are being overheard.-Has he come back ? FIRST BLIND MAN. I don't know what it is; it is above us. SECOND BLIND MAN. Did the others hear nothing ?-You always silent! 194 are THE SIGHTLESS. TIlE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We are still listening. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I hear wings about me! TIIE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. O God ! O God ! tell us where we are! THE SIXTH BLIND MAN. I am beginning to make out where we are.,. The asylum is on the other side of the big river; we have crossed the old bridge. He has brought us to the north side of the Island. We are not far from the river, and perhaps we should hear it if we were to listen a moment . .. . We shall have to go down to the edge of the water, if he does not come back ... Night and day great ships pass there, and the sailors will see us standing on the banks. It may be that we are in the forest that surrounds the lighthouse; but I don't know the way out of it body willing to follow me ? 195 . Is some- THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. Let us keep seated !-Let us wait, let us wait; -- we don't know the direction of the big river, and there are bogs all round the asylum; let us He will come back; he wait, let us wait . .. is bound to come back! SIXTH BLIND MAN. Does any one know which way we came here ? He explained it to us as we walked. FIRST BLIND MAN. I paid no attention. SIXTH BLIND MAN. Did any one listen to him ? THIRD BLIND MAN. We must listen to him in future. SIXTH BLIND MAN. Was any one of us born on the Island ? THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. You know quite well that we come from elsewhere. 196 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. We come from the other side of the sea. FIRST BLIND MAN. I thought I should have died crossing. SECOND BLIND MAN. I too;-we came together. THIRD BLIND MAN. We are all three of the same parish. FIRST BLIND MAN. They say that one can see it from here in clear weather ;-towards the north.-It has no steeple. THIRD BLIND MAN. We landed by chance. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I come from another direction . SECOND BLIND MAN. From where do you come ? 197 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I no longer dare think of it . . . I can hardly call it to mind when I speak of it . . It was too long ago -.. colder It was there than here . BLIND WOMAN. THE YOUNG And I, I come from very far . FIRST BLIND MAN. Where do you come from then ? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. How should I be able I could not tell you. is too far from here; it is to describe it ?-It I come from a big country ... beyond the seas. I could only explain it to you by signs, and we cannot see . . . I have wandered too long . . . But water and and fire, I have and seen the mountains, strange flowers... sun and and faces There are none like them on this Island; it is too dismal here and too cold . . . I have never known the scent again, since I lost my sight . .. I98 But I saw my THE SIGHTLESS. parents and my sisters . . I was too young then to know where I was... about on the sea-shore... I still played Yet how well I remember having seen! . . . One day, I looked at the snow from the top of a mountain . . . I was just beginning to distinguish those that are to be unhappy . FIRST BLIND MAN. What do you mean ? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I can still distinguish them by the sound of their voice at times ... I have memories that are clearer when I am not thinking of them . FIRST BLIND MAN. I have no memories, I . [A flight of bi birds ofpassage passes clamouriing above the foliage. ] TIlE OLDEST BLIND MAN. There is something passing again beneath the sky! 199 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. Why did you come here ? THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. To whom are you speaking ? SECOND BLIND MAN, To our young sister. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. They had told me that he could cure me. He says that I shall see again some day; then I shall be able to leave the Island . FIRST BLIND MAN. We should all like to leave the Island! SECOND BLIND MAN. We shall stay here for ever! THIRD BLIND MAN. He is too old; he will never have time to cure us! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. My eyelids are closed, but I feel that my eyes are alive . 200 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. Mine are open . . . SECOND BLIND MAN. I sleep with my eyes open. THIRD BLIND MAN. Let us not speak of our eyes ! SECOND BLIND MAN. You have not been here long? THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. One evening, during prayers, I the women's side a voice I did heard on not know; and I could tell by your voice that you were young . . . I wanted to see you, having heard your voice . . FIRST BLIND MAN. I never noticed it. SECOND BLIND MAN. He never lets us know anything ! 201 THE SIGHTLESS. SIXTH BLIND MAN. They say that you are beautiful, like some woman come from afar ? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I have never seen myself. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We have never seen each other. We question each other, and we answer each other; we live together, we are always together, but we know not what we are! . . . It is all very well to touch each other with both hands; eyes know more than hands . SIXTH BLIND MAN. I see your shadows sometimes when you are in the sun . . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We have never seen the house in which we live; it is all very well to touch the walls and the windows; we know nothing of where we live . 202 THE SIGHTLESS. TIlE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. They say it is an old castle, very gloomy and very wretched, one never sees a light there, save in the tower where the priest's room is. FIRST BLIND MAN. Those who cannot see need no light. SIXTH BLIND MAN. When I am keeping the flocks, round about the a'sylum, the sheep go home of themselves when, at evening, they see that light in the tower . . . They have never led me astray. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. For years and years we have lived together and wve have never beheld each other! One would One say we were always alone! ... must see to love . . TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I sometimes dream that I can see . 203 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I only see when I am dreaming . FIRST BLIND MAN. I only dream, as a rule, at midnight. SECOND BLIND MAN. Of what can one dream when one's hands are motionless ? [A squallshakes theforest, and the leavesfall in dismal showers.] FIFTH BLIND MAN. Who was it touched my hands? FIRST BLIND MAN. There is something falling round us. TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. It comes from above; I don't know what it is . FIFTI Who was BLIND MAN. it touched my hands ?-I asleep; let me sleep ! 204 was THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Nobody touched your hands. FIFTH BLIND MAN. Who was it took my hands? Answer loud, I am rather hard of hearing . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We don't ourselves know. FIFTH BLIND MAN. Have they come to warn us ? FIRST BLIND MAN. It is of no use answering; he can hear nothing. THIRD BLIND MAN. It must be admitted that the deaf are very unfortunate ! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I am tired of sitting down ! SIXTH BLIND MAN. I am tired of being here ! 205 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. We seem to me so far from one another . . . Let us try to draw a little closer together ;-it is beginning to be cold . . . THIRD BLIND MAN. I dare not stand up! It is better to stay where one is. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. There is no knowing what there may be between us. SIXTH BLIND MAN. I think both my hands are bleeding; I wanted to stand up. THIRD BLIND MAN. I can hear that you are leaning towards me. [The blind mad woman rubs her eyes violently, moaning, and persistently turning towards priest.] 206 the motionless THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. I hear another noise . TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I think it is our poor sister rubbing her eyes. SECOND BLIND MAN. She never does anything else; I hear her every night. THIRD BLIND MAN. She is mad; she never says anything. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. She has never spoken since she had her child. She seems always to be afraid . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Are you not afraid here then ? FIRST BLIND MAN. Who? THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. All the rest of us ! 207 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN, Yes, yes, we are afraid ! THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. We have been afraid a long time! FIRST BLIND MAN, Why do you ask that? THIE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I don't know why I ask it! ... There is something I cannot make out . . . It seems as if I heard a sudden sound of crying in our midst! . FIRST BLIND MAN. It does not do to be afraid; I think it is the mad woman . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. There is something else besides sure there is something else besides... not only that which frightens me . . 208 I am It is THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. She always cries when she is about to sucklelc her child. FIRST BLIND MAN, She is the only one that cries so! THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. They say that she can still see at times FIRST . BLIND MAN. One never hears the others cry . TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. One must see to weep . THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I smell a scent of flowers round about us . FIRST BLIND MAN. I only smell the smell of the earth! THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN, There are flowers, there are flowers near us! SECOND BLIND MAN. I only smell the smell of the earth! 209 14 THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN, I have just smelt flowers on the wind . TIHIRD BLIND MAN. I only smell the smell of the earth ! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think the women are right. SIXTH BLIND MAN. Where are they ?-I will go and pick them. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. To your right, stand up. [ The sixth blind man rises slowly, and, knocking himself against trees and bushes, gropes his way towards the daffodils, which he treads down and crushes as he goes.] TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I can hear that you are snapping green stemns! Stop! stop! 210 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. Never mind about the flowers, but think about getting back ! SIXTH BLIND MAN. I dare not retrace my steps! TIlE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. You must not come back!-Wait.-[She rises.]-Oh! how cold the earth is! It is going to freeze.-[She moves without hesitation towards the strangepale daffodils, but she is stopped by the fallen tree and the rocks, in the neighbourhoodof the flowers.]-They are here!-I cannot reach them; they are on your side. SIXTH BLIND MAN. I think I am picking them. [Groping about him, he picks what flowers are left, and offers themz to her; the night-birdsfly away.] THlE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. It seems to me that I once saw these flowers ... 211 THE SIGHTLESS. I have forgotten their name . . . But how ill they are, and how limp their stalks are ! hardly know them again ... I I think they are the flowers of the dead . [She plaits the daffodils in her hair.] TIlE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I hear the sound of your hair. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Those are the flowers . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We shall not see you . TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I shall not see myself [At . . I am cold. this mzoment, the zwind rises in the forest and the sea roars suddenly and zwith violence against the neighbouring cliffs.] FIRST BLIND MAN. It is thundering! 212 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. I think it is a storm rising. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I think it is the sea. THIRD BLIND MAN. The sea ?-Is it the sea ?-But it is at two steps from us !-It round me !-It is beside us ! I hear it all must be something else ! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I hear the sound of waves at my feet. FIRST BLIND MAN. I think it is the wind in the dead leaves. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think the women are right. THIRD BLIND MAN. It will be corning here ! FIRST BLIND MAN. Where does the wind come from ? 213 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. It comes from the sea. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. It always comes from the sea; the sea hems us in on all sides. It cannot come from else- where . FIRST BLIND MAN. Let us not think of the sea any more ! SECOND BLIND MAN. But we must think of it, as it is going to reach us! FIRST BLIND MAN. You don't know that it is the sea. SECOND BLIND MAN. I hear its waves as if I were going to dip both hands in ! We cannot stay here ! They may be all around us ! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Where do you want to go ? 214 THE SIGHTLESS. SECOND BLIND MAN. No matter where ! No matter where ! I will not hear the sound of that water any more ! Let us go! Let us go! THIRD BLIND MAN. It seems to me that I hear something e'se besides.-Listen ! [A sound of footsteps, swuift and distant, is heardamong the dead leaves.] FIRST BLIND MAN. There is something coming towards us! SECOND BLIND He is coming ! MAN. He is coming! He is com- ing back ! THIRD BLIND MAN. He is taking little steps, like a little child . SECOND BLIND MAN. Let us reproach him nothing to-day ! 215 THE SIGHTLESS. TIlE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I think it is not the step of a man ! b ig dog enters the forest and passes before them. Silence.] [A FIRST BLIND MAN. Who is there ?-Who are you ?-Have pity on us, we have been waiting so long ! ... [The dog stops, and returning, lays his front paws on Ah! ah ! what have the blind man's knees.] you put on my knees? an animal? What is it? . . Is it I think it is a dog? . . . Oh! oh ! it is the dog ! it is the dog from the asylum ! Come here! deliver us! come here! He has come to Come here ! come here! THE OTHERS. Come here ! come here ! FIRST BLIND MAN. He has come to deliver us! our traces! He has followed He is licking my hands as if he had found me after hundreds of years ! He is 216 THE SIGHTLESS. howling for joy ! He will die of joy! Listen ! listen ! THE OTHERS. Come here! come here! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. He has perhaps run on in front of somebody? . . . FIRST BLIND MAN. No, no, he is alone.-I hear nothing coming. -We need no other guide; there is none better. He will lead us wherever we want to go; he will obey us . TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I dare not follow him. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Nor I. FIRST BLIND MAN. Why not ? He sees better than we do. SECOND BLIND MAN. Let us not listen to the women! 217 THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. I think that something has changed in the sky; I breathe freely; the air is pure now . THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. It is the sea-breeze that is blowing round us. SIXTH BLIND MAN. It seems to me that it is going to get light; I think the sun is rising . . . TIlE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think it is going to be cold . FIRST BLIND MAN. We shall find the way. along. He is dragging me He is drunk with joy !-I hold him back! . . . Follow can no longer me! follow me! We are going home! . [He rises, dragged along by the dog, who leads him towards the motionless priest, and there stops.] 218 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OTHERS. Where are you ?-Where Where are you? are you going? Take care ! FIRST BLIND MAN. Wait! wait! Don't follow me yet ; I will come back . . He is standing still.-What is it ?-Ah ! ah! I have touched something very cold ! SECOND BLIND MAN. What are you saying? I can hardly hear your voice any more. FIRST BLIND MAN. I have touched . .. I think I am touching a face! THIRD BLIND MAN. What are you saying ?-One can hardly understand you any more. What is the matter with you ?-Where are you ?-Are you already so far away from us ? 219 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST Oh! oh! oh! BLIND MAN. I don't yet know what it is . . .- There is a dead man in our midst ! TIHE OTHERS. A dead man in our midst ?-Where are you ? where are you ? FIRST BLIND MAN. There is a dead man among us, I tell you! Oh! oh! I have touched a dead face !-You are sitting next to a dead body ! must have died suddenly! One of us But speak then, that I may know which are alive! Where are you ?-Answer ! answer all together ! [They answer in succession save the mad wonman and the deaf man ; the three old women have ceased praying.] FIRST BLIND MAN. I can no longer distinguish your voices! 220 THE SIGHTLESS. You are all speaking alike! ... They are all trembling! THIRD BLIND MAN. There are two who did not answer . Where are they ? [He touches with his stick thte fifth blind man.] FIFTH BLIND MAN. Oh! oh! I was asleep ; let me sleep ! SIXTH BLIND MAN. It is not he.-Is it the mad woman ? THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. She is sitting next me; live I can hear her . FIRST BLIND MAN. 1 think . . standing! I think it is the priest !-He is Come! come! come! SECOND BLIND MAN. IHe is standing ? 221 THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. Then he is not dead ! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN Where is he ? SIXTH BLIND MAN. Come and see! . [They all rise, save the mad woman and the fifth blind man, and grope their way towards the dead.] SECOND BLIND MAN. Is he here ?-Is it he ? THIRD BLIND MAN. Yes! yes! I recognise him! FIRST BLIND MAN. O God ! O God ! what is to become of us! THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Father! father !-Is it you ? 222 Father, what THE SIGHTLESS. has happened ?--What is the matter with you ? -- all gathered Answer us !-We are round you . . . Oh! oh! oh! TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Bring some water; he is perhaps still alive . SECOND BLIND MAN. Let us try . . He will perhaps be able to lead us back to the asylum . TIIRD BLIND MAN. It is useless; I cannot hear his heart.-He is cold . FIRST BLIND MAN. He died without a word. THIRD BLIND MAN. He ought to have warned us. SECOND BLIND MAN. Oh! how old he was! . . . It is the first time I ever touched his face . 223 THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN (feeling thle coipse). He is taller than we are! . . . SECOND BLIND MAN. His eyes are wide open ; he died with clasped hands . FIRST BLIND MAN. He died, so, for no reason . SECOND BLIND MAN. He is not standing, he is sitting on a stone . THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. O God! O God! all! .. He had been must have -He I did not know all . never ill suffered to-day! complained! . . so long ,. Oh! oh! . He oh! He only com- plained in pressing our hands . . . One does not always understand . . . One never understands! ... Let us pray around him. Kneel down . [The women kneel, moan224 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. I dare not kneel down . SECOND BLIND MAN. One does not know what one is kneeling on here . . . THIRD BLIND MAN. Was he ill? . . . He never told us . . . SECOND BLIND MAN. I heard him whisper something as he went ... I think he was speaking to our young sister; what did he say ? FIRST BLIND MAN. She will not answer. SECOND BLIND MAN. You will not answer us any more?-IBut where are you then?-Speak! THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. You made him suffer too much; you have killed him ... You would go no further; you 225 15 THE SIGHTLESS. wanted to sit down on the stones by the roadside to eat; you grumbled all day . .. I heard him sigh . . . He lost courage . FIRST BLIND MAN. Was he ill ? did you know it? TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. We knew nothing . .. We had never seen him . . . When have we ever known of any- thing that passed before our poor dead eyes ?... He never complained . .. .Now it is too late ... I have seen three die . . . but never so . . . Now it is our turn . FIRST BLIND MAN. It is not I that made him suffer.-I never said anything . SECOND BLIND MAN. Nor I; we followed him without a word . . THIRD BLIND MAN. He died going to fetch water for the mad wvoman . . 226 THE SIGHTLESS. FIRST BLIND MAN. What are we to do now? Where shall we go? THIRD BLIND MAN. Where is the dog ? FIRST BLIND MAN. Here; he will not leave the dead. THIRD BLIND MAN. Drag him away! Drive him off! drive him off! FIRST BLIND MAN. He will not leave the dead! SECOND BLIND MAN. We cannot wait beside a dead man! . . . We cannot die thus in the dark ! THIRD BLIND MAN. Let us keep together; let us not move away from one another; let us hold hands; let us all sit down on this stone . . . Where are the others? Come here ! come! come! 227 THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Where are you ? THIRD BLIND MAN. Here; I am here. Are we all together?Where are your hands? Come nearer to me. -It is very cold. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Oh! how cold your hands are! THIRD BLIND MAN. What are you doing ? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I was putting my hands to my eyes. thought I was going to see all at once . FIRST BLIND MAN. Who is that crying ? THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. It is the mad woman sobbing. FIRST BLIND MAN. Yet she does not know the truth ? 228 I THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think we shall die here . THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Some one will come perhaps . . . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Who else would be likely to come? . TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I don't know. FIRST BLIND MAN. I think the nuns will come out of the asylum . TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. They never go out of an evening. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. They never go out at all. SECOND BLIND MAN. I think that the men from the big lighthouse will see us . .. 229 THE SIGHTLESS. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. They never come down from their tower. THIRD BLIND MAN. They might see us . TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. They are always looking towards the sea. THIRD BLIND MAN. It is cold! TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Listen to the dead leaves; I think it is freezing. TIlE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN, Oh! how hard the earth is! THIRD BLIND MAN. I hear to my left a noise that I cannot make out . . TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. It is the sea moaning against the rocks. 230 TIlE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. I thought it was the women. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I hear the ice breaking under the waves . FIRST BLIND MAN. Who is it that is shivering so? he is making us all shake on the stone! SECOND BLIND MAN. I can no longer open my hands. TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I hear another noise that I cannot make out . FIRST BLIND MAN. Which of us is it that is shivering so? is shaking the stone! TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think it is a woman. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I think the mad woman is shivering most. 231 He THE SIGHTLESS. THIRD BLIND MAN. I cannot hear her child. THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I think he is still sucking. THIE OLDEST BLIND MAN. He is the only one that can see where we are ! FIRST BLIND MAN, I hear the north wind. SIXTH BLIND MAN. I think there are no more stars; it is going to snow. SECOND BLIND MAN. Then we are lost ! THIRD BLIND MAN. If one of us falls asleep he must be waked. THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I am sleepy though. [A squall makes th/e dead leaves whirl.] 232 THE SIGHTLESS. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Do you hear the dead leaves? I think some one is coming towards us ! SECOND BLIND MAN. It is the wind; listen ! THIRD BLIND MAN. No one will come now! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. The great cold is coming . TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I hear some one walking in the distance! FIRST BLIND MAN. I only hear the dead leaves ! THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I hear some one walking very far from us ' SECOND BLIND MAN. I only hear the north wind. 233 THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I tell you that some one is coming towards us TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. I hear a sound of very slow footsteps . THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I think the women are right. [It begins to snow in great flakes.] FIRST BLIND MAN. Oh! oh1! what is that falling so cold on my hands? SIXTH BLIND MAN. It is snowing! FIRST BLIND MAN. Let us draw up close to one another! THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. But listen to the sound of the footsteps ! TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. For God's sake ! be still an instant! 234 THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. They are drawing nearer ! they are drawing nearer ! listen then ! [Here the mad woman's child begins to wail suddenly in the dark.] THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. The child is crying! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. It sees ! it sees ! It must see something as it is crying ! [She seizes the child in her arms and moves forward in the direction whence the sound of footsteps seems to come; the other women follow her anxiously and surround her.] I am going to meet it ! THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Take care ! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Oh ! how he is crying !-What is it ?--Don't cry.-Don't be afraid; there is nothing to be 235 THE SIGHTLESS. afraid of; we are here all about you.-What do you see ?--Fear nothing !-Don't cry so!-What is it that you see ?-Tell us, what is it that you see ? THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. The sound of footsteps is drawing nearer; listen! listen! TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. I hear the rustling of a dress among the dead leaves. SIXTH BLIND MAN. Is it a woman ? THE OLDEST BLIND MAN. Is it the sound of footsteps ? FIRST BLIND MAN. It is perhaps the sea on the dead leaves ? TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. No, no! they are footsteps! steps! they are footsteps! 236 they are foot- THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. We shall soon know; listen to the dead leaves. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. I hear them, I hear them, almost beside us! listen ! listen !-What is it that you see? What is it that you see ? TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Which way is he looking ? THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. He always follows the sound of the footsteps ! -Look ! Look ! When I turn him away he turns back to look . . . He sees! he sees! he sees!-He must see something strange! . .. TIHE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN [coming forward]. Lift him above us, that he may see. THE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Step aside! step aside ! [She lifts the child above the group of the sightless.] The footsteps have stopped right among us! . 237 THE SIGHTLESS. TIHE OLDEST BLIND MAN. They are here in our midst! They are here ! TIHE YOUNG BLIND WOMAN. Who are you ? [Silence.] THE OLDEST BLIND WOMAN. Have pity on us! [Silence. YThe child cries Imore desperately.] [THE END.] 238 NEW EDITION IN NEW BINDING. In the new edition there are added about forty reproductions in fac-simile of autographs of distinguished singers and instrumentalists, including Sarasate, Joachim, Sir Charles Ialle, Stavenhagen, Henschel, Trebelli, Miss Macintyre, Jean Gerardy, etc. Quarto, cloth elegant, gilt edges, emblematic design on cover, 6s. fMay also be had in a variety of Fancy Bindings. The Music of the Poets: A MUSICIANS' BIRTHDAY BOOK. EDITED BY ELEONORE D'ESTERRE KEELING. --- age-- This is a unique Birthday Book. Against each date are given the names of musicians whose birthday it is, together with a verse-quotation appropriate to the character of their different compositions. or performances. A special feature of the book consists in the reproduction in fac-simile of autographs, and autographic music, of living composers. The selections of verse (from before Chaticer to the present time) have been made with admirable critical insight. 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With Introductory Note by William Sharp. 6 LANDOR'S IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS. SELECTED, with Introduction, by Havelock Ellis. 7 PLUTARCH'S LIVES (LANGIORNE). WITII INTRO- WITII INTRO- ductory Note by B. J. Siell, M A. 8 BROWNE'S RELIGIO MEDICI, duction by J Addington Symonds. E'TC. 9 SIIELLEY'S ESSAYS AND LETTERS. Introductory Note, by Ernest Rhys. EDITED, WITII Io SWIFT'S PROSE WRITINGS. CIIOSEN AND ARRANGED, with Introduction, by Walter Lewin. II BY TAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. MY STUDY WINDOWS. With Introduction by R. Garnett, LLD. 12 I.OWELL'S ESSAYS ON TIlE ENGLISH POETS, WITH a new Introduction by Mr. Lowell. 13 TIlE BIGLOW PAPERS. BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. \Vith Prefatory Note by Ernest RhIys. a London: WALTER SCOTr, LIMITrED, Paternoster SquarQ. THE SCOTT LIBRARY-continued. 14 GREAT ENGLISII Cunningham's Lives. 15 BYRON'S PAINTERS. SELECTED FROM Edited by William Sharp. LETTERS AND JOURNALS. SELECTED, with Introduction, by Mathilde Blind. 16 LEIGH HUNT'S ESSAYS. Notes by Arthur Symons. 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WITH INTRODUCTION WITII INTRODUCTION by Itelen Zimmern. 29 PAPERS OF STEELE AND ADDISON. EDITED BY SELECTED ARRANGED, Walter l.ewin. 30 BURNS'S LETTERS. AND with Introduction, by J. Logic Robertson, M.A. .ondon:; WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, Paternoster Square. THE SCOTT LIBRARY--continued. INTRO- WITII VWILLIAM MORRIS. SAGA. 31 VOLSUNGA duction by HI.II. Sparling. BY THOMAS CARLYLE. 32 SARTOR RESARTUS. WITH Introduction by Ernest Rhye,. 33 SELECT WRITINGS duction by Percival Chubb. 34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY WITH INTRO- OF EMERSON. LORD OF with an Introduction, by Will H. Direcks. EDITED, HERBERT. LE EVIL, TO 36 THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY, AND OTHER PLAYS. BY 35 ENGLISH Thiackeray. PROSE, Henrik Ibsen. 37 IRISH NMAUN Edited, with an Introduction, by Havelock Ellis. FAIRY AND Selected by W. B. Yeats. 38 ESSAYS FROM Chosen and Edited by Arthur Galton. OF DR. JOHNSON, WITH Introduction and Notes by Stuart J. Reid. WILLIAM OF 39 ESSAYS EDITED FOLK TALES. BIOGRAPHICAL SELECTED HAZLITT. AND AND Edited, with Introduction and Notes, by Frank Carr. 40 LANDOR'S PENTAMERON, Conversations. AND OTHIER IMAGINARY Edited, with a Preface, by H. Ellis. 41 POE'S TALES AND ESSAYS. duction, by Ernest Rhys. 42 VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. EDITED, WITH INTRO- BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH. Edited, with Preface, by Ernest Rhys. WENTWORTH TO 44 THE AUTOCRAT OF TIlE BREAKFAST-TABLE. BY 43 POLITICAL Macaulay. ORATIONS, FROM Edited, with Introduction, by William Clarke. Oliver Wendell HIolmes. 45 THE POET AT TIIE BREAKFAST-TABLE. Wendell Holmes. BY OLIVER 46 THE PROFESSOR AT THIE BREAKFAST-TABLE. BY Oliver Wendell Holmes. 47 LORD CHESTERFIELD'S LETTERS TO IIIS Selected, with Introduction, by Charles Sayle. London" WAiTER SCOTT, LIMITED, Paternoster Square. SON. THE SCOTT LIBRARY-continued. 48 STORIES FROM CARLETON. duction, by W. Yeats. SELECTED, WITII 49 JANE EYRE. BY CHARLOTTE Clement K. Shorter. INTRO- EDITED BY BRONTE. LOTIIROP BY 50 EDITED ENGLAND. 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AND FROM THE 73 SELECTIONS FROM PLATO. lation of Sydenham and Taylor. Edited by T: W. Rolleston. TRANS- 74 HEINE'S ITALIAN TRAVEL SKETCHES, ETC. TRANS- lated by Elizabeth A. Sharp. Theophile Gautier. With an Introduction from the French of TRANSLATED, 75 SCHILLER'S MAID OF ORLEANS. with an Introduction, by Major-General Patrick Maxwell. 76 SELECTIONS FROM SYDNEY SMITH, an Introduction, by Ernest Rhys. 77 THE NEW SPIRIT. EDITED, WITH BY HIAVELOCK ELLIS. FROM 78 THE BOOK OF MARVELLOUS ADVENTURES. the " Morte d'Arthur." Edited by Ernest Rhys. [This, together with No. 1, forms the complete " Morte d'Arthur."] 79 ESSAYS AND APIIORISMS. BY SIR ARTHUR IIELPS. With an Introduction by E. A. helps. MONTAIGNE. OF 80 ESSAYS Prefatory Note, by Percival Chubb. SELECTED, 81 THE LUCK OF BARRY LYNDON. Thackeray. Edited by F. T. Marzials. WITH BY London: WALTER SCOTT, LIMITED, Paternoster Square. W. A M. THE SCOTT LIBRARY--continued. 82 SCIIILLER'S WILLIAM TELL. TRANSLATED, an Introduction, by Major-General Patrick Maxwell. 83 CARLYLE'S ESSAYS ON GERMAN With an Introduction by Ernest Rhys. WITH LITERATURE. 84 PLAYS AND DRAMATIC ESSAYS OF CHARLES Edited, with an Introduction, by Rudolf Dircks. LAMB. SELECTED OF WORDSWORTH. 85 THE PROSE Edited, with an Introduction, by Professor William Knight. AND 86 ESSAYS, DIALOGUES, AND THOUGHTS OF COUNT Giacomo Icopardi. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by Najor-General Patrick Maxwell. 87 TIlE INSPECTOR-GENERAL A RUSSIAN COMEDY. By Nikolai V. Gogol. Translated from the original, with an Introduction and Notes, by Arthur A. Sykes. 83 ESSAYS AND APOTIIEGMS OF FRANCIS, LORD BACON: Edited, with an Introduction, by John Buchan. 89 PROSE OF MILTON: SELECTED AND EDITED, WITH an Introduction, by IRichard Garnett, LL.D. go TIIE REPUBLIC OF PLATO. TRANSLATED BY Thomas Taylor, with an Introduction by Theodore Wratislaw. 91 PASSAGES FROM FROISSART. WITH AN INTRO- duction by Frank T. 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Lowe, in which is also given an avowal of his dramatic faith. . . There is in this volume a mass of sound criticism, delivered in a highly cultivated and effective style. There is, perhaps, more disputatiousness than is absolutely desirable, but it is generally goodThe natured, and is invariably defensive rather than aggressive. volume is, in fact, worthy of Mr. Archer, will be valued by an intelligent public, and is of the highest importance to all who take an enlightened interest in the stage. "-At4enctum. Uniform with the above, Price 3s. 6d. THE THEATRICAL "WORLD" FOR S894. By WILLIAM ARCIIER. With an Introduction by GEo. BERNARD SHAW; an Epilogue giving a review of the year, its dramatic movements and tendencies; and a Synopsis of Casts of Plays produced during 1894. Bo/l the above Vobumes conltainz comple/e Indices of the Plays, Autzhors, Actors, Actresses, Jlanag ers, Crit:'cs, e'c., referred to. IBSEN'S PROSE DRAMAS. Edited by William Archer. COMIPLETE IN FI VE VOL .ES. CROWN 8vo, CLOTH, PRICE 3/6 PER VOLUME. 7firs! " TWe seem at last to be shown men and women as they are ; and at it is more than we can endure ... All Ibsein's charactersspeak antd act as zf they were hypotlised, and unlder their crea!or's itmferious demand to reveal themselves. There never was such a mirror held up to nature before : it is too terrible. . . Yet -wemust retu;rn to Ibsen, with his remorseless surge)?', his remorseless electric-light, unztil we, too, have grown strong and learne. to face the naked--if necessary, the flayed and bleeding-reality. "-SPEAKER (London). VOL. I. "A DOLL'S HOUSE,' "TIHE LEAGUE OF YOUTH," and "THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY." With Portrait cf the Author, and Biographical Introduction by WILLIAM ARCHEER. VOL. II. "GHOSTS," " AN ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE," and "THE WILD DUCK." VOL. III. WVith an Introductory Note. "LADY INGER OF OSTRAT," "THE VIKINGS AT HELGELAND," "THE PRETENDERS." Introductory Note and Portrait of Ibsen. VOL. IV. "EMPEROR AND GALILEAN." With an With an Introductory Note by WILLIAM ARCHER. VOL. V. 'ROSMERSHOLM," "THE LADY FROM THE SEA," " HEDDA GABLER." Translated ARCHER. With an Introductory Note. by WILLIAM The sequence of the plays in each volume is chronological; the complete set of volumes comprising the dramas thus presents them in chronological order. "The art of prose translation does not perhaps enjoy a very high literary status in England, but we have no hesitation in numbering the present version of Ibsen, so far as it has gone (Vols. I. and II.), among the very best achievements, in that kind, of our generation. '-Academy. " We have seldom, if ever, met idiomatic. "- Glasgow lerald. with a translation so absolutely A UTHORISED VERSION. Crozwn 8vo, Clot/h, Price 6s. PEER GYNT: A Dramatic Poem. BY HENRIK IBSEN. TRANSLATED WILLIAM BY AND CHARLES ARCHER. This Transla/ion, though unrtyined, ,preserves thlroughoul the various rkytk/is of the Oriizal. "To English readers this will not merely be a new work of the Norwegian poet, dramatist, and satirist, but it will also be a new Ibsen. . . . Here is the imaginative Ibsen, indeed, the Ibsen of such a boisterous, irresistible fertility of fancy that one breathes with difficulty as one follows him on his headlong course. . . . ' Peer Gynt' is a fantastical satirical drama of enormous interest, and the present translation of it is a masterpiece of fluent, powerful, graceful, and literal rendering."- The Daily Chronicle. Cr-ozWt 8vo, Cioth, 5s. THE STRIKE AT ARLINGFORD. (PLAY IN THREE ACTS.) BY GEORGE MOORE. " It has the large simplicity of really great drama, and Mr. Moore, in conceiving it, has shown the truest instinct for the art he is for the first time essaying."-W. A. in The World. 5 Crown Svo, Clolk, Price 2S. 6d. THE QUINTESSENCE OF IBSENISM. By GEORGE BERNARD SHAW. CONIEN7S. I. II. III. IV. THE TWO PIONEERS. IDEALS AND IDEALISTS. THE WOMANLY WOMAN. THE PLAYS. 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The last two Vols. may be had in Art and White Cloth, with Photogravure Frontispieces, price 2s. per vol. 8 Library of Humour Cloth Elegant, Larg'e Crown Svo, Price 3s. 6. per Vol. ' The books are deliiht/Zul in every way, and a-e notable for the high standard of taste and the exAcellent juidgmient that characterisetheir editing, as well as for the brilliancyof the litera ure that they contain.' -BOSTON U. S.A) GAZETTE. VOLJAZ71ES A L READY ISSUED. THE HUMOUR OF FRANCE. Translated, withan Introduction and Note:, by ELIZABETH LEE. With numerous Illustrations by PAUL FRI NZENY. THE HUMOUR OF GERMANY. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by HANs MOLLER-CASENOV. With numerous Illustrations by C. E. BRIOCK. THE HUMOUR OF ITALY. Translated, with an Introduction and Notes, by A. WERNERI. With 50 Illustrations and a Frontispiece by ARTURO FALDI. THE HUMOUR OF AMERICA. Selected with a copious Biographical Index of American Humorists, by JAMES BARR. THE HUMOUR OF HOLLAND. 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