"ÉVRARD.
Ma foi, je la mènerais à ses parents; je les ferais juges entre elle et moi; je leur dirais: 'La voilà! le mauvais germe a étouffé le bon; il a porté ses fruits; ils sont murs, récoltez-les! et je la leur laisserais.
DARCEY.
Eh bien, c'est vous qui l'avez jugée.
ADÈLE, avec anxiété.
Mais qui donc?...
DARCEY.
Je ne la tuerai pas, je ne la traînerai pas sur les bancs d'un tribunal; mais je vous la rendrai, mon père! Car, cet homme, c'est moi! Cette femme, c'est votre fille!
ADÈLE.
Ce n'est pas vrai!
ÉVRARD.
Adèle vous a trahir?
ADÈLE.
Je ne suis pas coupable! il ne m'aime plus: c'est un prétexte.
DARCEY.
Et Rodolphe, l'avez-vous oublié depuis hier?
ADÈLE.
Qui, Rodolphe?
DARCEY.
Rodolphe, votre amant!
ADÈLE.
Je ne connais pas de Rodolphe!
DARCEY.
Vous ne connaissez pas de Rodolphe?
ADÈLE.
Non.
DARCEY, lui mettant ses lettres sous les yeux.
Lisez donc! lisez! Voilà les pièces du procès; ces lettres, ce sont les siennes. Adieu!
Justice est faite!..."
Nothing further remains for Darcey to do but to be avenged on Rodolphe; but, as one might expect, he has been killed by Valdeja. In the fourth act, we are at Adèle's house: it is modest to the very verge of mediocrity, for Adèle is short of money; she holds a pen in her hand and has paper before her; she is on the point of humbling herself to her husband and asking help from him. She prefers that humiliation to becoming the mistress of an Italian banker named Rialto. Sophie and Amélie enter. You can guess the scene: the pen is flung across the table, the paper upon which the first letters were already traced is torn up; the proposals of Rialto are accepted. The shameful treaty bears the stamp of self-sacrifice. Albert Melville has lost his position in the offices of the Exchequer; Rialto, who is at the head of all the loans, gets him restored to it and Albert Melville marries Clarisse. What is the reason for this anxiety for the welfare of Albert Melville and Clarisse on the part of the three women? Stop a minute! The marriage of these two young people will cause Valdeja to give way to despair. Whereupon, Valdeja comes forward. He comes on behalf of Darcey, whose kindness of heart is touched by the physical sufferings of the woman: as woman, not as his wife. Adèle is nothing to him personally now, only from the point of view of ordinary humanity; she no longer belongs to his family; she is his neighbour merely. Adèle, who has nearly accepted this conjugal charity, refuses it at the instigation of the two women. Valdeja is more cheerful than usual: he smiles in spite of himself at the contretemps which destroys the prospect of the marriage of Albert and Clarisse for ever. But, when promising to yield herself to Rialto, Adèle asks that Albert's post may be given back to him, and, within ten minutes' time, the post is restored to him, the marriage is arranged and the young folk are wedded! It is not very probable that all this could take place in ten minutes; but one knows that actual times does not exist on the stage. When Valdeja learns that it is the hatred of the three women which has just destroyed his last hope, he renews his oath of hatred, which they listen to with laughter. The curtain falls upon that oath. It rises upon a pretty garden with a summer-house on the left.
For three years Adèle is Rialto's mistress, and she lives with him just as though she were his wife. She has all she wants, even to the lover of her heart's desire. This lover's name is M. Hippolyte. Rialto promises to buy her houses, carriages and horses, and she loathes him. M. Hippolyte gives her a simple bouquet and she worships him. See him enter upon the scenes.
"Bonjour! ma chère Adèle!
—Ah! arrivez donc, monsieur! Je m'entretenais de vous.
—Et, moi, je pensais à vous. Vous le voyez, ma chère Adèle, des fleurs, votre image ...."
It is evident that if Hippolyte has made the conquest of Madame Darcey, it is an affair of the heart in which her mind has no part whatever. Besides, Hippolyte is grave to solemnity. He sends Créponne, the chambermaid, away and stays alone with Adèle. It is she who begins the conversation.
"Voyons, qu'est-ce qui pesé si fort sur la gaieté aujourd'hui? demande-t-elle.
—J'ai quelque chose de si important à te dire.
—Quoi donc?
—Ma chère Adèle, depuis trois mois, je suis aimé de toi; depuis six semaines, j'ai formé le projet d'être ton mari, et je viens te t'annoncer.
—Ah! ah! ah! ah! fait Adèle éclatant de rire.
—Qu'y a-t-il donc de si risible?
—Je ris parce que.... Ah! ah! ah! mais c'est une plaisanterie."
This hilarity, sufficiently ill-timed when confronted with so serious a proposal, does not disconcert Hippolyte in the least. He had come of age the previous day and wished to profit by his majority to marry Adèle in hot haste. Rialto is announced.
"C'est votre père? demande ingénument Hippolyte.
—Oui, mon ami; il faut partir à l'instant, par ici, par la porte de ce pavillion.
—Pourquoi donc?
—Il ne faut pas qu'il vous voie, ou tout serait perdu! Éloignez-vous, de grace!
—Du tout! Je veux voir monsieur votre père, moi; j'ai à lui parler."