(LE BOURRU BIENFAISANT)

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
Geronte.
Dalancourt, his nephew.
Dorval, the friend of Geronte.
Valerio, the lover of Angelica.
Piccardo, the servant of Geronte.
A Servant of Dalancourt.
Madame Dalancourt.
Angelica, sister of Dalancourt.
Martuccia, housekeeper to Geronte.

The Scene is in Paris, at the house of Geronte.

ACT I.

Scene I.—Martuccia, Angelica, and Valerio.

Ang. Valerio, leave me, I entreat you; I fear formyself, I fear for you. Ah! if we should be surprised—
Val. My dear Angelica!
Mar. Do go, sir.
Val. [To Martuccia.] One moment more. If I couldbe well assured—
Mar. Of what?
Val. Of her love—of her constancy.
Ang. Ah, Valerio! can you doubt it?
Mar. Go, go, sir; she loves you but too well.
Val. This is the happiness of my life—
Mar. Quick, go away. If my master should comein suddenly!
Ang. [To Martuccia.] He never leaves his room soearly.
Mar. That is true; but you know he walks andamuses himself in this room. Here are his chessmen,and here he often plays. Oh, don't you know SignorGeronte?
Val. Pardon me, he is Angelica's uncle. I know myfather was his friend, but I have never spoken to him.
Mar. He is a man, sir, of a most singular character.At bottom a most worthy man, but impatient, andpeculiar to the last degree.
Ang. Yes, he tells me he loves me, and I believehim; but while he tells me so, he makes metremble.
Val. [To Angelica.] What have you to fear? youhave neither father nor mother. You are at yourbrother's disposal, and he is my friend; I will speakto him.
Mar. Ah! Exactly! Trust to Signor Dalancourt.
Val. Well, can he refuse me?
Mar. Indeed, I think he can.
Val. Why so?
Mar. Listen; I will explain the whole matter in afew words. My nephew, your brother the lawyer'snew clerk, has told me what I will now tell you. Hehas been with him only a fortnight, I heard it from himthis morning; but he confided it to me as the greatestsecret: for Heaven's sake do not betray me!
Val. Do not fear.
Ang. You know me.
Mar. [Speaking in a low tone to Valerio, and lookingtowards the door.] Signor Dalancourt is a ruined man,overwhelmed. He has run through all his fortune,and perhaps his sister's dowry too. Angelica is aburden too great for him to bear, and to free himselffrom it, he means to shut her up in a convent.
Ang. Oh, Heavens! What do you tell me?
Val. Can it be possible? I have known him a longtime. Dalancourt always appeared to me a young manof good sense and honourable principles; sometimesimpetuous, and apt to take offence, but—
Mar. Impetuous—oh, most impetuous!—a match forhis uncle, but far from having his uncle's excellentfeelings.
Val. He is esteemed, beloved by every one. Hisfather was perfectly satisfied with him.
Mar. Ah, sir, since his marriage he is no longer thesame man.
Val. Can it be that Madame Dalancourt—
Mar. Yes, she, they say, is the cause of this greatchange. Signor Geronte is deeply offended with hisnephew for his foolish compliance with the whims ofhis wife, and—I know nothing, but I would lay awager that this plan of the convent is of her contrivance.
Ang. [To Martuccia.] You surprise me. My sister-in-law,whom I looked on as so discreet, who showedme so much friendship! I never could have thought it.
Val. I know her, and cannot believe it.
Mar. Surely you are not serious? Does any ladydress more elegantly? Is there any new fashion thatshe does not immediately adopt? At balls and plays,is she not always the first?
Val. But her husband is ever at her side.
Ang. Yes, my brother never leaves her.
Mar. Well, they are both fools, and both will beruined together.
Val. It is impossible.
Mar. Very well, very well. I have told you whatyou wanted to know. Now go at once, and do notexpose my mistress to the danger of losing her uncle'sfavour. He alone can be of any service to her.
Val. Keep calm, Angelica. No question of interestshall ever form an obstacle.
Mar. I hear a noise. Go at once.
[Exit Valerio.
Ang. How miserable I am!
Mar. There's your uncle coming. Did I not tellyou so?
Ang. I am going.
Mar. No, remain here, and open your heart to him.
Ang. I would as soon put my hand in the fire.
Mar. Come, come; he is sometimes a little hasty,but he has not a bad heart.
Ang. You direct his household, you have influencewith him; speak to him for me.
Mar. No, you must speak to him yourself; all I cando is to hint at the matter, and dispose him to listento you.
Ang. Yes, yes, say something to him, and I willspeak to him afterwards. [Going.]
Mar. Remain here.
Ang. No, no; when it is time, call me. I shall notbe far off.
[Exit Angelica.
Martuccia, alone.
Mar. How gentle she is—how amiable. I have beenwith her from her babyhood. I love her; I am distressedfor her, and wish to see her happy. Here he is.
Enter Geronte.
Ger. [To Martuccia.] Where's Piccardo?
Mar. Signor—
Ger. Call Piccardo!
Mar. Yes, sir. But may I say one word to you?
Ger. [Very impatiently.] Piccardo, Piccardo!
Mar. [In the same tone.] Piccardo, Piccardo!
Enter Piccardo.
Pic. Here, sir; here, sir.
Mar. [To Piccardo angrily.] Your master—
Pic. [To Geronte.] Here I am, sir.
Ger. Go to my friend Dorval, and tell him I amwaiting to play a game of chess with him.
Pic. Yes, sir, but—
Ger. But what?
Pic. I have a commission—
Ger. To do what?
Pic. From your nephew.
Ger. [In a passion.] Go to Dorval's.
Pic. He wishes to speak to you.
Ger. Begone, sir!
Pic. What a man! [Exit.
Ger. A madman—a miserable creature! No, I willnot see him; I will not permit him to come and disturbmy tranquillity. [Goes to the table.]
Mar. [Aside.] There, he is in a rage at once. Mostunfortunate for me.
Ger. [Sitting down.] What a move that was I madeyesterday! what a fatality! How in the world couldI be checkmated with a game so well arranged? Letme see; this game kept me awake the whole night.[Looking over the game.]
Mar. May I speak to you, sir?
Ger. No.
Mar. No! But I have something important to sayto you.
Ger. Well, what have you to say? let me hear it.
Mar. Your niece wishes to speak to you.
Ger. I have no time now.
Mar. Really! Is what you are about, then, of suchvery great importance?
Ger. Yes, of the utmost importance; I don't oftenamuse myself, and then I do not choose to be plaguedto death. Do you hear?
Mar. This poor girl—
Ger. What has happened to her?
Mar. They want to shut her up in a convent.
Ger. In a convent!—To shut my niece in a convent!to dispose of my niece without my approbation, withoutmy knowing anything about it!
Mar. You know your nephew's embarrassments.
Ger. I have nothing to do with my nephew's embarrassments,nor his wife's follies. He has his ownproperty; if he squanders it, if he ruins himself, somuch the worse for him. But as for my niece, I amthe head of the family, I am the master; it is for meto provide for her.
Mar. So much the better for her, sir, so much thebetter. I am glad to see you get so warm in the deargirl's behalf.
Ger. Where is she?
Mar. She is near, sir. Wait a moment—
Ger. Let her come in.
Mar. Yes, she most earnestly desires to do so, but—
Ger. But what?
Mar. She is timid.
Ger. Well, what then?
Mar. If you speak to her—
Ger. I must speak to her.
Mar. Yes, but in this tone of voice—
Ger. The tone of my voice hurts nobody; let hercome and rely on my heart, not on my tone of voice.
Mar. That is true, sir. I know you; you are good,humane, charitable; but I entreat you, do not frightenthe poor girl; speak to her with a little gentleness.
Ger. Yes, I will speak to her with gentleness.
Mar. You promise me?
Ger. I promise you.
Mar. Do not forget it.
Ger. [Beginning to be impatient.] No.
Mar. Above all, do not get impatient.
Ger. [Impatiently.] I tell you, no.
Mar. I tremble for Angelica.[Exit.
Geronte, alone.
Ger. She is right; I sometimes suffer myself to becarried away by my irritable temper. My niecedeserves to be treated with tenderness.
Enter Angelica.—She remains at a distance.
Ger. Come near.
Ang. Sir? [Timidly advancing one step.]
Ger. [Warmly.] How can you expect me to hear youwhen you are three miles off?
Ang. Excuse me, sir. [She approaches him, trembling.]
Ger. What have you to say to me?
Ang. Has not Martuccia told you something?
Ger. [At first gently, then by degrees he gets excited.]Yes, she has spoken to me of you, of that insensatebrother of yours, that extravagant fellow, who suffershimself to be led by the nose by his silly wife, who isruined, utterly lost, and has no longer any respect forme. [Angelica moves as though to go away.] Where areyou going? [Very impetuously.]
Ang. You are angry, sir.
Ger. Well, what is that to you? If I get angry at ablockhead, I am not angry with you. Come near;speak; you must not be afraid of my anger.
Ang. My dear uncle, I can't speak to you unless Isee you calm.
Ger. What martyrdom! Well, I am calm. Speak.[Trying to compose himself.]
Ang. Martuccia, sir, has told you—
Ger. I don't mind what Martuccia says. I want tohear it from yourself.
Ang. My brother—
Ger. Your brother—
Ang. Wishes to shut me up in a convent.
Ger. Well, do you wish to go into a convent?
Ang. But, sir—
Ger. [With warmth.] Well! Speak.
Ang. It is not for me to decide.
Ger. [With a little more warmth.] I do not say it is foryou to decide, but I want to know your inclination.
Ang. You make me tremble, sir.
Ger. [Aside, restraining himself.] I shall burst withrage.—Come near. I understand, then, a convent isnot to your liking?
Ang. No, sir.
Ger. For what have you an inclination?
Ang. Sir—
Ger. Do not be afraid. I am calm. Speak freely.
Ang. Ah! I have not the courage.
Ger. Come here. Do you wish to be married?
Ang. Sir—
Ger. Yes or no?
Ang. If you desire—
Ger. Yes or no?
Ang. Well, yes—
Ger. Yes! you wish to be married! to lose yourliberty, your tranquillity! Very well; so much theworse for you. Yes, I will marry you.
Ang. [Aside.] How good he is for all his hastytemper!
Ger. Have you an inclination for any one in particular?
Ang. [Aside.] Now, if I had the courage to speak tohim of Valerio!
Ger. Well, have you any lover?
Ang. [Aside.] This is not the opportune moment. Iwill get Martuccia to speak to him.
Ger. Come, come, let us end the matter. The housein which you live, the persons you see, may perhapshave led you to form an attachment. I wish to knowthe truth. Yes, I will do something handsome foryou, but on the condition that you deserve it. Do youunderstand? [With great warmth.]
Ang. [Trembling.] Yes, sir.
Ger. Speak openly, frankly. Have you any attachment?[In the same tone.]
Ang. [Hesitating and trembling.] But—no, sir.—No,sir, I have none.
Ger. So much the better. I will find a husband foryou.
Ang. Oh, God! I should not like, sir—
Ger. What is it?
Ang. You know my timidity.
Ger. Yes, yes, your timidity. I know womankind;now you are a dove, but get married, and you will be ahawk.
Ang. Ah, my uncle! since you are so good—
Ger. Yes, too good.
Ang. Let me tell you—
Ger. Dorval not come yet! [Going to the table.]
Ang. Hear me, my dear uncle.
Ger. Don't disturb me now. [Intent on the chessboard.]
Ang. One single word—
Ger. [Impatiently.] Enough has been said.
Ang. [Aside.] Oh, Heaven! I am more unhappy thanever. Ah, my dear Martuccia will not abandon me! [Exit.
Geronte, alone.
Ger. She is a good girl; I would willingly do all Ican for her. If she had any attachment, I wouldendeavour to please her, but she has none. I will see,I will look about. But what in the world detainsDorval? Is he never coming? I long to try thatcursed combination again that made me lose the lastgame. Certainly, I ought to have won it—he did notbeat me, I beat myself. I must have lost my senses.Let us see a little. My pieces were placed so, andDorval's so. I moved the king to his castle's square;Dorval placed his bishop on his king's second square. I—check—yes,I take the pawn—Dorval—he takes mybishop,—Dorval—yes, he takes my bishop, and I—givecheck with my knight. By Jove! Dorval loses hisqueen. He plays his king, and I take his queen. Yes,the fellow, with his king, has taken my knight. Butso much the worse for him. Now he is in my nets;his king is fast. Here is my queen; Yes, here she is.Checkmate. It is clear. Checkmate, and the gameis won. Ah! if Dorval would come, he should see it.—[Calls.]Piccardo!
Enter Dalancourt.
Dal. [Apart, and in much confusion.] My uncle isalone; if he will listen to me!
Ger. I will place the pieces as they were at first.[Not seeing Dalancourt, he calls loudly.] Piccardo!
Dal. Sir—
Ger. [Without turning, and supposing he is speaking toPiccardo.] Well, have you found Dorval?
Enter Dorval.
Dor. Here I am, my friend.
Dal. [With resolution.] My uncle.
Ger. [Turning, sees Dalancourt, rises quickly, throwsdown the chair, and goes out without speaking.]
Scene II.—Dalancourt and Dorval.
Dor. [Laughing.] What is the meaning of this scene?
Dal. It is dreadful! All this because he has seen me.
Dor. [In the same manner.] Geronte is my friend. Iknow his disposition perfectly.
Dal. I am sorry on your account.
Dor. Indeed, I came at an unlucky time.
Dal. Excuse his violence.
Dor. [Smiling.] Oh, I'll scold him; I'll scold him.
Dal. Ah, my friend, you are the only person whocan do anything for me with him.
Dor. I will do what I can, with all my heart, but—
Dal. I agree that, from appearances, my uncle hasreason to be offended with me; but if he could readthe bottom of my heart, all his affection for me wouldreturn, and he would never repent it.
Dor. Yes, I know your character, and I believe everythingmight be hoped from you; but your wife—
Dal. My wife, sir! Ah, you do not know her. All theworld is mistaken about her, and my uncle especially.I must do her justice, and let the truth be known.She knows nothing of the embarrassments by which Iam overwhelmed. She thought me richer than I was,and I have always concealed my affairs from her. Ilove her. We were married very young. I have neverpermitted her to ask for anything—to want anything.I have always endeavoured to anticipate her wishes,and to provide for her pleasures. In this way I haveruined myself. [Earnestly.]
Dor. To please a lady—to anticipate her desires!That is no easy task.
Dal. I am certain, had she known my situation, shewould have been the first to forbid the expenses I haveindulged in to please her.
Dor. Yet she did not forbid them.
Dal. No, because she had no fear—
Dor. My poor friend!
Dal. [Afflicted.] Indeed I am poor.
Dor. [Still smiling.] I pity you.
Dal. [With warmth.] You are making a jest ofme.
Dor. [Still laughing.] By no means; but—you loveyour wife prodigiously?
Dal. Yes, I love her; I have always loved her, andshall love her as long as I live; I know her, know allher worth, and will not suffer any one to accuse herof faults which she has not.
Dor. [Seriously.] Gently, my friend, gently; you havea little too much of the family hastiness.
Dal. [With much warmth.] Pardon me, I would notfor the world offend you; but when my wife is spokenof—
Dor. Well, well, let us speak of her no more.
Dal. But I wish you to be convinced.
Dor. [Coldly.] Yes, I am convinced.
Dal. [With much earnestness.] No, you are not.
Dor. [A little excited.] Excuse me, I tell you I am.
Dal. Very well, I believe you, and am delighted thatyou are. Now, my dear friend, speak to my uncle onmy behalf.
Dor. Most willingly will I do so.
Dal. How much obliged to you I shall be!
Dor. But we must be able to give him some reasons.How have you managed to ruin yourself in so short atime? It is only four years since your father died,leaving you a handsome fortune, and it is said you havespent it all.
Dal. If you knew all the misfortunes that havehappened to me! Seeing my affairs were in disorder,I wished to remedy them, and the remedy was worsethan the disease: I listened to new schemes, engagedin new speculations, pledged my property, and have losteverything.
Dor. Here lies the error—new projects; the ruin ofmany another man.
Dal. And my condition is utterly hopeless.
Dor. You have been very wrong, my friend, especiallyas you have a sister.
Dal. Yes; and it is now time to think of providingfor her.
Dor. Every day she grows more beautiful. MadameDalancourt receives much company in her house, andyouth, my dear friend, sometimes—you understandme?
Dal. Regarding this point, I have on reflection foundan expedient; I think of placing her in a convent.
Dor. Place her in a convent! A good plan; buthave you consulted your uncle?
Dal. No; he will not hear me; but you must speakto him for me and for Angelica. My uncle esteemsand loves you, listens to you, confides in you, and willrefuse you nothing.
Dor. I have great doubts of this.
Dal. I am sure of it. Pray try to see him, and speakto him at once.
Dor. I will do so; but where is he gone?
Dal. I will find out.—Let us see—Is any one there?
[Calls.
Enter Piccardo.
Pic. [To Dalancourt.] Here, sir.
Dal. Is my uncle gone from home?
Pic. No, sir; he went into the garden.
Dal. Into the garden! at this time of day?
Pic. For him it is all the same. When he is a littleout of temper, he walks about and goes out to takethe air.
Dor. I will go and join him.
Dal. I know my uncle, sir; you must give him timeto get calm. It is better to wait for him here.
Dor. But if he goes out, he may not return hereagain.
Pic. [To Dorval.] Pardon me, sir, it will not be longbefore he is here: I know his temper, a few minuteswill be sufficient. I can assure you he will be muchpleased to see you.
Dal. Well, my dear friend, go into his room. Dome the favour to wait for him there.
Dor. Willingly; I understand perfectly how cruelyour situation is. Some remedy must be provided;yes, I will speak to him, but on condition—
Dal. [With warmth.] I give you my word of honour.
Dor. It is sufficient.
[Exit into Geronte's room.
Dal. You did not tell my uncle what I told you totell him?
Pic. Pardon me, sir, I have told him, but he droveme away, according to his custom.
Dal. I am sorry for it; let me know when themoment is favourable for me to speak to him. Someday I will reward you for your services.
Pic. I am much obliged to you, sir; but, thankHeaven, I am in want of nothing.
Dal. You are rich, then?
Pic. I am not rich, but I have a master who will not letme want for anything. I have a wife and four children,and ought to be in the greatest straits of any man inthe world; but my master is so good, that I supportthem without difficulty, and distress is unknown in myhouse. [Exit.
Dalancourt, alone.
Dal. Ah, my uncle is an excellent man. If Dorvalcan have any influence over him—If I can hope toreceive assistance equal to my wants—If I can keep itconcealed from my wife—Ah, why have I deceived her?Why have I deceived myself? My uncle does notreturn. Every minute is precious for me. In themeantime, I will go to my lawyer's. Oh, with whatpain I go to him! It is true, he flatters me that, notwithstandingthe decree, he will find means to gaintime; but quibbles are so odious, my feelings suffer,and my honour is affected. Wretched are they who areforced to resort to expedients so discreditable.
Enter Madame Dalancourt.
Dal. Here comes my wife. [Seeing her.]
Mad. Ah, my husband! are you here? I have beenlooking everywhere for you.
Dal. I was going out.
Mad. I met that savage just now; he is scolding andscolding wherever he goes.
Dal. Do you mean my uncle?
Mad. Yes. Seeing a ray of sunshine, I went to walkin the garden, and there I met him. He was stampinghis feet, talking to himself, but in a loud voice. Tellme, has he any married servants in his house?
Dal. Yes.
Mad. It must have been this. He said a great manyhad things of the husband and wife; very bad, I assureyou.
Dal. [Aside.] I can easily imagine of whom hespoke.
Mad. He is really insupportable.
Dal. You must treat him with respect.
Mad. Can he complain of me? I have failed innothing; I respect his age, and his quality as youruncle. If I laugh at him sometimes when we arealone, you pardon it. Except this, I have for him allpossible respect. But tell me sincerely, has he anyfor you or for me? He treats us with the greatestasperity; he hates us as much as he can, and now hiscontempt for me has become excessive: yet I mustcaress him and pay court to him.
Dal. [Embarrassed.] But—when it is so easy to do so—heis our uncle. Besides, we may have need of him.
Mad. Need of him! we! how? Have we notmeans of our own to live in decency? You are notextravagant; I am reasonable. For myself, I desireno more than for you to provide for me as you havedone. Let us continue to live with the same moderation,and we shall be independent of every one.
Dal. [In a passionate manner.] Let us continue to livewith the same moderation!
Mad. Yes, indeed; I have no vanity. I ask nothingmore of you.
Dal. [Aside.] How unhappy I am!
Mad. But you seem to me to be disturbed—thoughtful.What is the matter? you are not easy.
Dal. You are mistaken, there is nothing the matter.
Mad. Pardon me, I know you. If you have anysorrow, why hide it from me?
Dal. [More embarrassed.] I am thinking of my sister.I will tell you the whole.
Mad. Your sister! But why of her? She's the bestgirl in the world—I love her dearly. Hear me. If youwill trust her to me, I will relieve you of this burden,and at the same time make her happy.
Dal. How?
Mad. You think of placing her in a convent, andI know, on good authority, it will be against herwishes.
Dal. [A little warmly.] At her age, ought she to beasked what she wishes or does not wish?
Mad. No; she has understanding enough to submitto the will of her friends; but why not marry her?
Dal. She is too young.
Mad. Good! was I older than she when we weremarried?
Dal. [Excitedly.] Well, must I go about from door todoor looking for a man to wed her?
Mad. Listen to me, my husband, and do not disturbyourself, I pray. If I guess aright, I am sure Valerioloves her, and that she too is attached to him.
Dal. [Aside.] Heavens, how much I have to suffer!
Mad. You know him. Can there be a better matchfor Angelica?
Dal. [Much embarrassed.] We will see—we will talkof it.
Mad. Do me the favour to leave the management ofthis affair to me; I have a great desire to succeed in it.
Dal. [In the greatest embarrassment.] Madame?
Mad. What say you?
Dal. It cannot be.
Mad. No! why not?
Dal. Will my uncle consent to it?
Mad. And if he does not? I do not wish that weshould be wanting in our duty to him, but you are thebrother of Angelica. Her fortune is in your hands—whetherit is more or less depends on you alone. Letme assure myself of their inclination, and on the subjectof interest, I would soon arrange that.
Dal. [Anxiously.] No; if you love me, do not meddlewith it.
Mad. Are you then averse to marrying your sister?
Dal. On the contrary.
Mad. What then?
Dal. I must go now. I will talk with you about iton my return. [Going.]
Mad. Are you displeased at my interference?
Dal. Not at all.
Mad. Hear me. Perhaps it is concerning her fortune?
Dal. I know nothing about it. [Exit.
Mad. What does this conduct mean? I do notcomprehend it. It is impossible that my husband—No,he is too wise to have anything to reproach himselfwith.
Scene III.—Enter Angelica.
Ang. If I could speak with Martuccia! [Not seeingMadame D.]
Mad. Sister!
Ang. [Uneasily.] Madame!
Mad. Where are you going, sister?
Ang. [Uneasily.] I am going away, Madame.
Mad. Ah! then you are offended?
Ang. I have reason to be so.
Mad. Are you angry with me?
Ang. Why, Madame?
Mad. Hear me, my child; if you are disturbed aboutthe affair of the convent, do not think I have any handin it. It is just the reverse; I love you, and will doall I can to render you happy.
Ang. [Aside, weeping.] What duplicity!
Mad. What's the matter? you are weeping.
Ang. [Aside.] How much she has deceived me![Wipes her eyes.]
Mad. What cause have you for sorrow?
Ang. Oh, the embarrassments of my brother.
Mad. The embarrassments of your brother!
Ang. Yes; no one knows them better than you.
Mad. What do you say? Explain yourself, if youplease.
Ang. It is needless.
Enter Geronte, and then Piccardo.
Ger. [Calls.] Piccardo!
Pic. Here, sir. [Coming out of Geronte's apartment.]
Ger. [With impatience.] Well, where is Dorval?
Pic. He is waiting for you, sir, in your room.
Ger. He in my room, and you said nothing about it?
Pic. You did not give me time, sir.
Ger. [Seeing Angelica and Madame D., he speaks toAngelica, turning as he speaks towards Madame D., thatshe may hear him.] What are you doing here? I wishto have none of your family. Go away.
Ang. My dear uncle—
Ger. I tell you, go.
[Exit Angelica, mortified.
Mad. I ask your pardon, sir.
Ger. [Turning towards the door by which Angelica hasgone out, but from time to time looking at Madame D.]This is strange. This is impertinent. She wants toannoy me. There is another staircase for going downinto the other apartment. I will shut up this door.
Mad. Do not be offended, sir; as to myself, I assureyou—
Ger. [He wants to go into his room, but not to passMadame D., and says to Piccardo.] Tell me, is Dorvalin my room?
Pic. Yes, sir.
Mad. [Perceiving the embarrassment of Geronte, stepsback.] Pass on, sir; I will not be in your way.
Ger. [Passing, salutes her.] My lady—I will shut upthe door. [Goes into his room, and Piccardo follows him.]
Mad. What a strange character! but it is not thisthat disturbs me. What distresses me is the anxiousmanner of my husband, and Angelica's words. Idoubt; I fear; I wish to know the truth, and dread todiscover it.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.