The unfortunate Tisbe, on receiving this communication from her dear Rodolpho, exclaims— "Ah! vous me tuez! Ah! c'est la première idée qui vous vient?"
Some farther conversation takes place between them. On one occasion he says—like a prince as he is—"Mentez un peu, voyons!"—and then he assures her that he never cared a farthing for her, repeating very often, because, as he says, it is her supplice to hear it, that he never loved anybody but Catarina. During the whole scene she ceases not, however, to reiterate her passionate protestations of love to him, and at last the dialogue ends by Rodolpho's stabbing her to the heart.
I never beheld anything on the stage so utterly disgusting as this scene. That Mademoiselle Mars felt weighed down by the part, I am quite certain;—it was like watching the painful efforts of a beautiful racer pushed beyond its power—distressed, yet showing its noble nature to the last. But even her exquisite acting made the matter worse: to hear the voice of Mars uttering expressions of love, while the ruffian she addresses grows more murderous as she grows more tender, produced an effect at once so hateful and so absurd, that one knows not whether to laugh or storm at it. But, what was the most terrible of all, was to see Mars exerting her matchless powers to draw forth tears, and then to look round the house and see that she was rewarded by—a smile!
After Tisbe is stabbed, Catarina of course comes to life; and the whole farce concludes by the dying Tisbe's telling the lovers that she had ordered horses for them; adding tenderly, "Elle est déliée—(how?)—morte pour le podesta, vivante pour toi. Trouves-tu cela bien arrangé ainsi?" Then Rodolpho says to Catarina, "Par qui as-tu été sauvée?"
"LA TISBE (in reply).
"Par moi, pour toi!"
M. Hugo, in a note at the end of the piece, apologises for not concluding with these words—"Par moi, pour toi," which he seems to think particularly effective: nevertheless, for some reason which he does not very clearly explain, he concludes thus;—
"LA TISBE.
"Madame, permettez-moi de lui dire encore une fois, Mon Rodolpho. Adieu, mon Rodolpho! partez vite à présent. Je meurs. Vivez. Je te bénis!"
It is impossible in thus running through the piece to give you any adequate idea of the loose, weak, trumpery style in which it is written. It really seems as if the author were determined to try how low he might go before the boys and grisettes who form the chorus of his admirers shall find out that he is quizzing them. One peculiarity in the plot of "this fine tragedy" is, that the hero Angelo never appears, nor is even alluded to, after the scene in which he commissions la Tisbe to administer the poison to Madame. His sudden disappearance is thus commented upon at the Vaudeville. The Tyrant there makes his appearance after it is all over, exclaiming—