Pamela Giraud: A Play in Five Acts

by Honoré de Balzac

ACT I

SCENE FIRST
(Setting is an attic and workshop of an artificial flower-maker. It is
poorly lighted by means of a candle placed on the work-table. The
ceiling slopes abruptly at the back allowing space to conceal a man.
On the right is a door, on the left a fireplace. Pamela is discovered
at work, and Joseph Binet is seated near her.)
Pamela, Joseph Binet and later Jules Rousseau.

Pamela
Monsieur Joseph Binet!
Joseph
Mademoiselle Pamela Giraud!
Pamela
I plainly see that you wish me to hate you.
Joseph
The idea! What? And this is the beginning of our love—Hate me!
Pamela
Oh, come! Let us talk sensibly.
Joseph
You do not wish, then, that I should express how much I love you?
Pamela
Ah! I may as well tell you plainly, since you compel me to do so, that
I do not wish to become the wife of an upholsterer's apprentice.
Joseph
Is it necessary to become an emperor, or something like that, in order
to marry a flower-maker?
Pamela
No. But it is necessary to be loved, and I don't love you in any way
whatever.
Joseph
In any way! I thought there was only one way of loving.
Pamela
So there is, but there are many ways of not loving. You can be my
friend, without my loving you.
Joseph
Oh!
Pamela
I can look upon you with indifference—
Joseph
Ah!
Pamela
You can be odious to me! And at this moment you weary me, which is
worse!
Joseph
I weary her! I who would cut myself into fine pieces to do all that
she wishes!
Pamela
If you would do what I wish, you would not remain here.
Joseph
And if I go away—Will you love me a little?
Pamela
Yes, for the only time I like you is when you are away!
Joseph
And if I never came back?
Pamela
I should be delighted.
Joseph
Zounds! Why should I, senior apprentice with M. Morel, instead of
aiming at setting up business for myself, fall in love with this young
lady? It is folly! It certainly hinders me in my career; and yet I
dream of her—I am infatuated with her. Suppose my uncle knew it!—But
she is not the only woman in Paris, and, after all, Mlle. Pamela
Giraud, who are you that you should be so high and mighty?
Pamela
I am the daughter of a poor ruined tailor, now become a porter. I gain
my own living—if working night and day can be called living—and it
is with difficulty that I snatch a little holiday to gather lilacs in
the Pres-Saint-Gervais; and I certainly recognize that the senior
apprentice of M. Morel is altogether too good for me. I do not wish to
enter a family which believes that it would thus form a mesalliance.
The Binets indeed!
Joseph
But what has happened to you in the last eight or ten days, my dear
little pet of a Pamela? Up to ten days ago I used to come and cut out
your flowers for you, I used to make the stalks for the roses, and the
hearts for the violets; we used to talk together, we sometimes used to
go to the play, and have a good cry there—and I was "good Joseph,"
"my little Joseph"—a Joseph in fact of the right stuff to make your
husband. All of a sudden—Pshaw! I became of no account.
Pamela
Now you must really go away. Here you are neither in the street, nor
in your own house.
Joseph
Very well, I'll be off, mademoiselle—yes, I'll go away! I'll have a
talk in the porter's lodge with your mother; she does not ask anything
better than my entrance into the family, not she; she won't change her
mind!
Pamela
All right! Instead of entering her family, enter her lodge, the
porter's lodge, M. Joseph! Go and talk with my mother, go on!— (Exit
Joseph.) Perhaps he'll keep their attention so that M. Adolph can get
up stairs without being seen. Adolph Durand! What a pretty name! There
is half a romance in it! And what a handsome young man! For the last
fifteen days he has absolutely persecuted me. I knew that I was rather
pretty; but I never believed I was all he called me. He must be an
artist, or a government official! Whatever he is, I can't help liking
him; he is so aristocratic! But what if his appearance were deceitful,
and there were anything wrong about him!—For the letter which he has
just sent me has an air of mystery about it— (She draws a letter from
her bosom and reads it) "Expect me this evening. I wish to see you
alone, and, if possible, to enter unnoticed by any one; my life is in
danger, and oh! if you only knew what a terrible misfortune threatens
me! Adolph Durand." He writes in pencil. His life is in danger—Ah!
How anxious I feel!
Joseph (returning)
Just as I was going down stairs, I said to myself: "Why should Pamela"
(Jules' head appears at the window.)
Pamela
Ah!
Joseph
What's the matter?
(Jules disappears.)
Pamela
I thought I saw—I mean—I thought I heard a sound overhead. Just go
into the garret. Some one perhaps has hidden there. You are not
afraid, are you?
Joseph
No.
Pamela
Very well! Go up and search! Otherwise I shall be frightened for the
whole night.
Joseph
I will go at once. I will climb over the roof if you like.
(He passes through a narrow door that leads to the garret.)
Pamela (follows him)
Be quick! (Jules enters.) Ah! sir, what trouble you are giving me!
Jules
It is to save my life, and perhaps you will never regret it. You know
how much I love you!
(He kisses her hand.)
Pamela
I know that you have told me so; but you treat me—
Jules
As my deliverer.
Pamela
You wrote to me—and your letter has filled me with trouble—I know
neither who you are—
Joseph (from the outer room)
Mademoiselle, I am in the garret. I have looked over the whole roof.
Jules
He is coming back—Where can I hide?
Pamela
But you must not stay here!
Jules
You wish to ruin me, Pamela!
Pamela
Look, hide yourself there!
(She points to the cranny under the sloping roof.)
Joseph (returning)
Are you alone, mademoiselle?
Pamela
No; for are not you here?
Joseph
I heard something like the voice of a man. The voice came from below.
Pamela
Nonsense, more likely it came from above—Look down the staircase—
Joseph
Oh! But I am sure—
Pamela
Nonsense. Leave me, sir; I wish to be alone.
Joseph
Alone, with a man's voice?
Pamela
I suppose you don't believe me?
Joseph
But I heard it plain enough.
Pamela
You heard nothing.
Joseph
Ah! Pamela!
Pamela
If you prefer to believe the sounds which you say reached your ears,
rather than the words I speak, you would make a very bad husband. That
is quite sufficient for me.
Joseph
That doesn't prove that I did not hear—
Pamela
Since I can't convince you, you can believe what you like. Yes! you
did hear a voice, the voice of a young man, who is in love with me,
and who does whatever I wish—He disappears when he is asked, and
comes when he is wanted. And now what are you waiting for? Do you
think that while he is here, your presence can be anything but
disagreeable to us? Go and ask my father and mother what his name is.
He must have told them when he came up stairs—he, and the voice you
heard.
Joseph
Mlle. Pamela, forgive a poor youth who is mad with love. It is not
only my heart that I have lost, but my head also, when I think of you.
I know that you are just as good as you are beautiful, I know that you
have in your soul more treasures of sweetness than you ever show, and
so I know that you are right, and were I to hear ten voices, were I to
see ten men here, I would care nothing about it. But one—
Pamela
Well, what of it?
Joseph
A single one—that is what wounds me. But I must be off; it seems
funny that I should have said all that to you. I know quite well that
there is no one here but you. Till we meet again, Mlle. Pamela; I am
going—I trust you.
Pamela (aside)
He evidently does not feel quite sure.
Joseph (aside)
There is some one here! I will run down and tell the whole matter to
her father and mother. (Aloud) Adieu, Mlle. Pamela. (Exit.)

SCENE SECOND
Pamela and Jules.

Pamela
M. Adolph, you see to what you are exposing me. That poor lad is a
workman, a most kind-hearted fellow; he has an uncle rich enough to
set him up in business; he wishes to marry me, and in one moment I
have lost my prospects—and for whom? I do not know you, and from the
manner in which you imperil the reputation of a young girl who has no
capital but her good behavior, I conclude that you think you have the
right to do so. You are rich and you make sport of poor people!
Jules
No, my dear Pamela. I know who you are, and I take you at your true
value. I love you, I am rich, and we will never leave one another. My
traveling carriage is with a friend, at the gate of St. Denis; we will
proceed on foot to catch it; I intend embarking for England. You must
come with me. I cannot explain my intentions now, for the least delay
may prove fatal to me.
Pamela
What do you mean?
Jules
You shall see—
Pamela
Are you in your right senses, M. Adolph? After having followed me
about for a month, seen me twice at a dance, written me several
declarations, such as young men of your sort write to any and every
woman, you point-blank propose an elopement!
Jules
Oh, I beg of you, don't delay an instant! You'll repent of this for
the rest of your life, and you will see too late what mischief you
have done.
Pamela
But, my dear sir, you can perhaps explain yourself in a couple of
words.
Jules
No,—for the secret is a matter of life and death to several persons.
Pamela
If it were only to save your life, whoever you are, I would do a good
deal; but what assistance could I be to you in your flight! Why do you
want to take me to England?
Jules
What a child you are! No one, of course, would suspect anything of two
runaway lovers! And, let me tell you, I love you well enough to
disregard everything else, and even to brave the anger of my parents—
Once we are married at Gretna Green—
Pamela
Oh, mon Dieu! I am quite non-plussed! Here's a handsome young man
urges you—implores you—and talks of marriage—
Jules
They are mounting the staircase—I am lost!—You have betrayed me!—
Pamela
M. Adolph, you alarm me! What is going to happen? Wait a moment, I
will go and see.
Jules
In any case, take and keep this twenty thousand francs. It will be
safer with you than in the hands of the police—I have only half an
hour longer and all will be over.
Pamela
There is nothing to fear—It is only my father and mother.
Jules
You have the kindness of an angel. I trust my fate with you. But you
must know that both of us must leave this house at once; and I swear
on my honor, that nothing but good shall result to you.
(He hides again under the roof.)

SCENE THIRD
Pamela, M. Giraud and Mme. Giraud.

Pamela (who stands in such a way as to prevent her parents from
entering fully into the room; aside)
Evidently here is a man in danger—and a man who loves me—two reasons
why I should be interested in him.
Mme. Giraud
How is this, Pamela—you the solace of all our misfortunes, the prop
of our old age, our only hope!
Giraud
A girl brought up on the strictest principles.
Mme. Giraud
Keep quiet, Giraud! You don't know what you are talking about.
Giraud
Certainly, Madame Giraud.
Mme. Giraud
And besides all this, Pamela, your example was cited in all the
neighborhood as a girl who'd be useful to your parents in their
declining years!
Giraud
And worthy to receive the prize of virtue!
Pamela
Then what is the meaning of all these reproaches?
Mme. Giraud
Joseph has just told us that you had a man hidden in your room.
Giraud
Yes—he heard the voice.
Mme. Giraud
Silence, Giraud!—Pamela—pay no attention to your father—
Pamela
And do you, mother, pay no attention to Joseph.
Giraud
What did I tell you on the stairs, Madame Giraud? Pamela knows how we
count upon her. She wishes to make a good match as much on our account
as on her own; her heart bleeds to see us porters, us, the authors of
her life! She is too sensible to blunder in this matter. Is it not so,
my child, you would not deceive your father?
Mme. Giraud
There is nobody here, is there, my love? For a young working-girl to
have any one in her room, at ten o'clock at night—well—she runs a
risk of losing—
Pamela
But it seems to me that if I had any one you would have seen him on
his way up.
Giraud
She is right.
Mme. Giraud
She does not answer straight out. Please open the door of this room.
Pamela
Mother, stop! Do not come in here,—you shall not come in here!—
Listen to me; as I love you, mother, and you, father, I have nothing
to reproach myself with!—and I swear to it before God!—Do not in a
moment withdraw from your daughter the confidence which you have had
in her for so long a time.
Mme. Giraud
But why not tell us?
Pamela (aside)
Impossible! If they were to see this young man every one would soon
know all about it.
Giraud (interrupting her)
We are your father and mother, and we must see!
Pamela
For the first time in my life, I refuse to obey you!—But you force me
to it!—These lodgings are rented by me from the earnings of my work!
I am of age and mistress of my own actions.
Mme. Giraud
Oh, Pamela! Can this be you, on whom we have placed all our hopes?
Giraud
You will ruin yourself!—and I shall remain a porter to the end of my
days.
Pamela
You needn't be afraid of that! Well—I admit that there is some one
here; but silence! You must go down stairs again to your lodge. You
must tell Joseph that he does not know what he is talking about, that
you have searched everywhere, that there is no one in my lodging; you
must send him away—then you shall see this young man; you shall learn
what I purpose doing. But you must keep everything the most profound
secret.
Giraud
Unhappy girl! What do you take us for? (He sees the banknotes on the
table.) Ah! what is this? Banknotes!
Mme. Giraud
Banknotes! (She recoils from Pamela.) Pamela, where did you get them?
Pamela
I will tell you when I write.
Giraud
When you write! She must be going to elope!

SCENE FOURTH
The same persons, and Joseph Binet.

Joseph (entering)
I was quite sure that there was something wrong about him!—He is a
ringleader of thieves! The gendarmes, the magistrate, all the
excitement she showed mean something—and now the house is surrounded!
Jules (appearing)
I am lost!
Pamela
I have done all that I could!
Giraud
And you, sir, who are you?
Joseph
Are you a—?
Mme. Giraud
Speak!
Jules
But for this idiot, I would have escaped! You will now have the ruin
of an innocent man on your consciences.
Pamela
M. Adolph, are you innocent?
Jules
I am!
Pamela
What shall we do? (Pointing to the dormer window.) You can elude
their pursuit that way out.
(She opens the dormer window and finds the police agents on the roof
outside.)
Jules
It is too late. All you can do is to confirm my statement. You must
declare that I am your daughter's lover; that I have asked you to give
her in marriage to me; that I am of age; that my name is Adolph
Durand, son of a rich business man of Marseilles.
Giraud
He offers her lawful love and wealth!—Young man, I willingly take you
under my protection.

SCENE FIFTH