JEAN
Oh, calm yourself for my sake, dear little Musotte.
MUSOTTE
If you could only understand how recollections throng upon me. Do you remember that I posed for your “Mendiante,” for your “Violet Seller,” for your “Guilty Woman,” which won for you your first medal? And do you remember the breakfast at Ledoyen's on Varnishing Day? There were more than twenty-five at a table intended for ten. What follies we committed, especially that little, little—what did he call himself—I mean that little comic fellow, who was always making portraits which resembled no one? Oh, yes, Tavernier! And you took me home with you to your studio, where you had two great manikins which frightened me so, and I called to you, and you came in to reassure me. Oh, how heavenly all that was! Do you remember? [Laughs again.] Oh, if that life could only begin over again! [Cries suddenly.] Ah, what pain! [To Jean, who is going for the doctor.] No, stay, stay! [Silence. A sudden change comes over her face.] See, Jean, what glorious weather! If you like, we will take the baby for a sail on a river steamboat; that will be so jolly! I love those little steamboats; they are so pretty. They glide over the water quickly and without noise. Now that I am your wife, I can assert myself—I am armed. Darling, I never thought that you would marry me. And look at our little one—how pretty he is, and how he grows! He is called Jean after you. And I—I have my two little Jeans—mine—altogether mine! You don't know how happy I am. And the little one walks to-day for the first time! [Laughs aloud, with her arms stretched out, pointing to the child which she thinks is before her.]
JEAN [weeps]
Musotte! Musotte! Don't you know me?
MUSOTTE
Indeed I know you! Am I not your wife? Kiss me, darling. Kiss me, my little one.
JEAN [takes her in his arms, weeping and repeating]
Musotte! Musotte! [Musotte rises upon her couch, and with a gesture to Jean points to the cradle, toward which he goes, nodding “Yes, yes,” with his head. When Jean reaches the cradle, Musotte, who has raised herself upon her hands, falls lifeless upon the long steamer-chair. Jean, frightened, calls out] Pellerin! Pellerin!