Challenges to Traditional Authority: Plays by French Women Authors, 1650-1700 (Volume 36) (The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series) [1 ed.] 0866985301, 9780866985307

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Françoise Pascal, Marie-Catherine Desjardins, Antoinette Deshoulières, and Catherine Durand

Challenges to Traditional Authority:

Plays by French Women Authors, 1650–1700 E d i te d a nd tr a n s l ate d by

Perry Gethner

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 36

CHALLENGES TO TRADITIONAL AUTHORITY

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series, 36

MEDIEVAL AND RENAISSANCE TEXTS AND STUDIES VOLUME 477

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S ed i to r , e ng l i Sh te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Madre María Rosa Journey of Five Capuchin Nuns Edited and translated by Sarah E. Owens Volume 1, 2009 Giovan Battista Andreini Love in the Mirror: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Jon R. Snyder Volume 2, 2009 Raymond de Sabanac and Simone Zanacchi Two Women of the Great Schism: The Revelations of Constance de Rabastens by Raymond de Sabanac and Life of the Blessed Ursulina of Parma by Simone Zanacchi Edited and translated by Renate Blumenfeld-Kosinski and Bruce L. Venarde Volume 3, 2010 Oliva Sabuco de Nantes Barrera The True Medicine Edited and translated by Gianna Pomata Volume 4, 2010 Louise-Geneviève Gillot de Sainctonge Dramatizing Dido, Circe, and Griselda Edited and translated by Janet Levarie Smarr Volume 5, 2010

Pernette du Guillet Complete Poems: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Karen Simroth James Translated by Marta Rijn Finch Volume 6, 2010 Antonia Pulci Saints’ Lives and Bible Stories for the Stage: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Elissa B. Weaver Translated by James Wyatt Cook Volume 7, 2010 Valeria Miani Celinda, A Tragedy: A Bilingual Edition Edited by Valeria Finucci Translated by Julia Kisacky Annotated by Valeria Finucci and Julia Kisacky Volume 8, 2010 Enchanted Eloquence: Fairy Tales by Seventeenth-Century French Women Writers Edited and translated by Lewis C. Seifert and Domna C. Stanton Volume 9, 2010 Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, Sophie, Electress of Hanover and Queen Sophie Charlotte of Prussia Leibniz and the Two Sophies: The Philosophical Correspondence Edited and translated by Lloyd Strickland Volume 10, 2011

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S ed i to r , e ng l i Sh te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series In Dialogue with the Other Voice in Sixteenth-Century Italy: Literary and Social Contexts for Women’s Writing Edited by Julie D. Campbell and Maria Galli Stampino Volume 11, 2011 Sister Giustina Niccolini The Chronicle of Le Murate Edited and translated by Saundra Weddle Volume 12, 2011 Liubov Krichevskaya No Good without Reward: Selected Writings: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Brian James Baer Volume 13, 2011 Elizabeth Cooke Hoby Russell The Writings of an English Sappho Edited by Patricia Phillippy With translations by Jaime Goodrich Volume 14, 2011 Lucrezia Marinella Exhortations to Women and to Others If They Please Edited and translated by Laura Benedetti Volume 15, 2012

Margherita Datini Letters to Francesco Datini Translated by Carolyn James and Antonio Pagliaro Volume 16, 2012 Delarivier Manley and Mary Pix English Women Staging Islam, 1696–1707 Edited and introduced by Bernadette Andrea Volume 17, 2012 Cecilia Del Nacimiento Journeys of a Mystic Soul in Poetry and Prose Introduction and prose translations by Kevin Donnelly Poetry translations by Sandra Sider Volume 18, 2012 Lady Margaret Douglas and Others The Devonshire Manuscript: A Women’s Book of Courtly Poetry Edited and introduced by Elizabeth Heale Volume 19, 2012 Arcangela Tarabotti Letters Familiar and Formal Edited and translated by Meredith K. Ray and Lynn Lara Westwater Volume 20, 2012

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S ed i to r , e ng l i Sh te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Pere Torrellas and Juan de Flores Three Spanish Querelle Texts: Grisel and Mirabella, The Slander against Women, and The Defense of Ladies against Slanderers: A Bilingual Edition and Study Edited and translated by Emily C. Francomano Volume 21, 2013 Barbara Torelli Benedetti Partenia, a Pastoral Play: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Lisa Sampson and Barbara Burgess-Van Aken Volume 22, 2013 François Rousset, Jean Liebault, Jacques Guillemeau, Jacques Duval and Louis De Serres Pregnancy and Birth in Early Modern France: Treatises by Caring Physicians and Surgeons (1581–1625) Edited and translated by Valerie WorthStylianou Volume 23, 2013 Mary Astell The Christian Religion, as Professed by a Daughter of the Church of England Edited by Jacqueline Broad Volume 24, 2013

Sophia of Hanover Memoirs (1630–1680) Edited and translated by Sean Ward Volume 25, 2013 Katherine Austen Book M: A London Widow’s Life Writings Edited by Pamela S. Hammons Volume 26, 2013 Anne Killigrew “My Rare Wit Killing Sin”: Poems of a Restoration Courtier Edited by Margaret J. M. Ezell Volume 27, 2013 Tullia d’Aragona and Others The Poems and Letters of Tullia d’Aragona and Others: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Julia L. Hairston Volume 28, 2014 Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza The Life and Writings of Luisa de Carvajal y Mendoza Edited and translated by Anne J. Cruz Volume 29, 2014 Russian Women Poets of the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries: A Bilingual Edition Edited and translated by Amanda Ewington Volume 30, 2014

The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe: The Toronto Series

Se rie S ed i to r S Margaret L. King and Albert Rabil, Jr. Se rie S ed i to r , e ng l i Sh te x tS Elizabeth H. Hageman

Previous Publications in the Series Jacques du Bosc L’Honnête Femme: The Respectable Woman in Society and the New Collection of Letters and Responses by Contemporary Women Edited and translated by Sharon Diane Nell and Aurora Wolfgang Volume 31, 2014 Lady Hester Pulter Poems, Emblems, and The Unfortunate Florinda Edited by Alice Eardley Volume 32, 2014 Jeanne Flore Tales and Trials of Love, Concerning Venus’s Punishment of Those Who Scorn True Love and Denounce Cupid’s Sovereignity: A Bilingual Edition and Study Edited and translated by Kelly Digby Peebles Poems translated by Marta Rijn Finch Volume 33, 2014

Veronica Gambara Complete Poems: A Bilingual Edition Critical introduction by Molly M. Martin Edited and translated by Molly M. Martin and Paola Ugolini Volume 34, 2014 Catherine de Médicis and Others Portraits of the Queen Mother: Polemics, Panegyrics, Letters Translation and study by Leah L. Chang and Katherine Kong Volume 35, 2014

FRANÇOISE PASCAL, MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS, ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES, AND CATHERINE DURAND

Challenges to Traditional Authority: Plays by French Women Authors, 1650–1700 •

Edited and translated by PERRY GETHNER

Iter Academic Press Toronto, Ontario Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies Tempe, Arizona 2015

Iter Academic Press Tel: 416/978–7074

Email: [email protected]

Fax: 416/978–1668

Web: www.itergateway.org

Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies Tel: 480/965–5900

Email: [email protected]

Fax: 480/965–1681

Web: acmrs.org

© 2015 Iter, Inc. and the Arizona Board of Regents for Arizona State University. All rights reserved. Printed in Canada. Iter and the Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies gratefully acknowledge the generous support of James E. Rabil, in memory of Scottie W. Rabil, toward the publication of this book. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Challenges to traditional authority : plays by French women authors, 1650-1700 / edited and translated by Perry Gethner. pages cm. -- (Medieval and Renaissance Texts and Studies ; 477) (The Other Voice in Early Modern Europe ; The Toronto Series, 36) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-0-86698-530-7 (alk. paper) 1. French drama--Women authors. 2. French drama--17th century. I. Gethner, Perry, editor, translator. PQ1220.C48 2015 842’.40809287--dc23 2014049921 Cover illustration: Selene and Endymion, c.1630 (oil on canvas), Poussin, Nicolas (1594–1665) / Detroit Institute of Arts, USA / Founders Society purchase, General Membership Fund / Bridgeman Images DTR114646. Cover design: Maureen Morin, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries. Typesetting and production: Iter Academic Press.

Contents

Acknowledgments

xi

Introduction

1

Françoise Pascal, Endymion Introduction Text Marie-Catherine Desjardins (Mme de Villedieu), Nitetis Introduction Text

101 113

Antoinette Deshoulières, Genseric Introduction Text

165 177

Catherine Durand, Proverb Comedies Introduction Text

237 246

Bibliography

301

Index

307

21 37

Acknowledgments I would like to thank all the colleagues who have encouraged me over the last three decades as I have explored the works of French women playwrights of the early modern period, including those many people with whom I have collaborated in previous or current related projects. Special mention should be made of Althea Arguelles-Ling, Faith Beasley, Anne Birberick, Aurore Evain, Henriette Goldwyn, Marijn Kaplan, Theresa Varney Kennedy, the late Wolfgang Leiner, Alicia Montoya, Volker Schröder, Carol Sherman, Allison Stedman, Gabrielle Verdier, and Rainer Zaiser. The reviewers and editorial board of the Other Voice series made helpful suggestions during the revision process. Much of the introductory material has been adapted from work originally published in French, especially from Femmes dramaturges en France (1650–1750), Pièces choisies, ed. Perry Gethner, vol. 1 (Tübingen: Papers on French Seventeenth Century Literature, 1993), and vol. 2 (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2002); and from Théâtre de femmes de l’Ancien Régime, ed. Aurore Evain, Perry Gethner, and Henriette Goldwyn, 3 vols. to date (Saint-Etienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint-Etienne, 2006–11); as of 2014, publication of this series was transferred to Classiques Garnier. An earlier version of the translation of five of the proverb comedies appeared in the collection Writings by Pre-Revolutionary French Women from Marie de France to Elisabeth Vigée-Lebrun, ed. Anne R. Larsen and Colette H. Winn (New York: Garland, 2000), 377–402.

xi

Introduction The Other Voice It will no doubt come as a surprise to many that women writers existed in France long before our own day, that they cultivated nearly all the known genres, that in some cases they were highly regarded, that in certain respects they were innovators, and that many of their works can still be read with pleasure today. Until quite recently, only a handful of literary scholars knew that French women authors in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries were active in such fields as drama, narrative and philosophical poetry, and all branches of fiction and nonfiction. While critics have recognized that some women composed best-selling novels, only one of them, Mme de Lafayette’s La Princesse de Clèves, has traditionally been considered worth reading. Indeed, scholars increasingly are coming to realize that many literary historians of the last two centuries made what seems like a concerted effort to devalue women writers and ignore their works.1 For numerous reasons the works of French women playwrights deserve to be rediscovered. Drama was considered the most prestigious branch of literature during the early modern period, and the fact that some women cultivated dramatic art indicates that they viewed themselves as fully integrated into the cultural life of France. The range of their accomplishments is particularly impressive: women wrote in every dramatic form popular in that era, and in some cases they helped to initiate new genres or subgenres. Most of all, many of these authors brought a distinctively female perspective to the subjects they treated. For example, they stood up for the rights and dignity of women, condemned male tyranny and corruption, denounced social injustices, and imagined new possibilities for social and political organization. Only in the last few decades has a serious attempt been made to reedit works by these unjustly neglected writers. Even less effort has been given to making these works available in English. The current volume, which constitutes a supplement to my earlier English-language anthology,2 should help to remedy this situation and allow scholars to place French women playwrights in dialogue with

1. See Joan DeJean, Ancients against Moderns: Culture Wars and the Making of a Fin de Siècle (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997); Faith E. Beasley, Salons, History, and the Creation of 17th-Century France: Mastering Memory (Aldershot, Hampshire: Ashgate, 2006). 2. Perry Gethner, trans., The Lunatic Lover and Other Plays by French Women of the 17th and 18th Centuries (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 1994) comprises six works by Françoise Pascal and Mme de Villedieu (both represented in the current volume by other plays), Anne de La Roche-Guilhen, Catherine Bernard, Marie-Anne Barbier, and Françoise de Graffigny.

1

2 PERRY GETHNER their male counterparts in France, their female counterparts in other European countries, and the general culture that they helped to enrich. The reception accorded to the French-language editions I have published of works by women playwrights attests to considerable enthusiasm for this corpus. Plays by women have been successfully used in the classroom for a variety of purposes: intellectual history (representing what women in the early modern period thought about their society and culture), literary history (how the contributions of women dramatists interface with, or contrast with, those of their male colleagues, especially in cases where a male author and a female author treat the same or similar themes), or women’s studies (how the plays interface with the writings of women in other genres and/or in other countries).3 Some of these plays, especially the short comedies, can easily be staged in student productions. But, most of all, the best of these plays, including the works included in the current collection, are thought provoking and enjoyable to read.

Historical Context The contributions of French women to drama have long been neglected, even though the overwhelming majority of their works were published and a large number were performed, sometimes with considerable success. There are a few isolated cases of women who wrote plays in the sixteenth century, but they never constituted a tradition and their work received little attention.4 This is hardly surprising, given that the sixteenth century in France was a chaotic time, dominated by religious strife and both foreign and civil wars—developments that interfered with the evolution of professional theatrical companies and with the creation of a distinctive tradition. At the same time, the humanist movement promoted a new interest in the drama of classical antiquity while disparaging the forms of medieval drama that audiences continued to enjoy. All four of the known female playwrights of that century dabbled in drama only intermittently, preferring to cultivate poetry or prose, and none of them seems to have had any ties with professional performers. Two were aristocrats (Queen Marguerite de Navarre, better known as a religious poet and author of one of the finest novella collections of the 3. On the possibilities for classroom use, see Perry Gethner, “Women and the Theatrical Tradition,” in Teaching Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century French Women Writers, ed. Faith E. Beasley (New York: Modern Language Association of America, 2011), 84–91. 4. For a more in-depth historical account, see the general introductions to the individual volumes of the anthology Théâtre de femmes de l’Ancien Régime, ed. Aurore Evain, Perry Gethner, and Henriette Goldwyn, 3 vols. to date of 5 projected (Saint-Etienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint-Etienne, 2006–11); and English Showalter, Jr., “Writing off the Stage: Women Authors and Eighteenth-Century Theater,” Yale French Studies 75 (1988): 95–111. See also the website accompanying the anthology above: Aurore Evain, Théâtre de femmes de l’Ancien Régime. http://www.theatredefemmes-ancienregime.org.

Introduction 3 Renaissance, and Catherine de Parthenay, a duchess and religious poet), while the others were active in private literary gatherings (Louise Labé in Lyon, who specialized in love poems, and Catherine Des Roches in Poitiers, a poet of feminist leanings who hosted a salon with her mother). Their purpose in composing plays was to provide entertainment for their friends or members of their entourage, in addition to allowing for self-expression. Apart from one of Parthenay’s biblical tragedies, staged by the Protestant community at La Rochelle around 1574 (presumably as an act of solidarity or defiance in the wake of a notorious massacre of Huguenots), none of their plays was intended for public performance. Nonetheless, all these authors except Parthenay had their dramatic works published, and it is possible that some were posthumously staged. These texts hardly seem feminist today, but in some cases the choice of themes and the treatment of the female characters are suggestive. For example, Marguerite satirizes what she considers improper religious attitudes and practices, often using young women as models of genuine devotion, and she presents the Virgin Mary as a model of intellectual distinction as well as maternal tenderness. Labé uses the allegorical figures of Cupid and Folly to rehabilitate the irrational aspect of amorous passion, which she allows women, as well as men, to express openly. Parthenay’s lost tragedy, judging from the title, exalted the biblical heroine Judith, who slew the enemy of her people and ended the siege of her city. Some of Des Roches’s philosophical dialogues, which seem to have been conceived as playlets, feature discussions about the desirability of educating girls and cultivating their talents. Only at the midpoint of the seventeenth century do we find women playwrights in significant numbers and who managed to win both popular and critical recognition. Curiously, only a single play by a woman is known to have been written during the first half of the century, and that work, Cinnatus et Camma by Dorothée de Croy (surviving in a manuscript dated 1637), a curious hybrid of medieval and Renaissance traditions, was never published or performed. But around 1650 women playwrights came to prominence; all of them published their works, and many of their plays were publicly staged. There are many reasons why the change happened at precisely that time. Perhaps the most crucial is that the drama acquired a new respectability during the second quarter of the century, owing to the strong support of the prime minister, Cardinal Richelieu. The government increasingly gave encouragement to gifted young playwrights, sponsored some of the professional companies that came to be based in Paris, and made the goal of perfecting the drama one of the tasks of the newly formed French Academy, whose original purpose was to standardize and regularize the French language. As plays became more refined in both style and subject matter, and as both aristocrats and well-educated members of the middle class came to look upon the playhouse as a privileged form of serious entertainment, more people attended

4 PERRY GETHNER performances, read plays in print, and discussed them at social gatherings. Meanwhile, new and improved playhouses were constructed, and starting in the 1640s new types of stage machines were introduced, allowing for elaborate special effects. The appearance of an unusually gifted group of playwrights, eager to please noble patrons and sophisticated audiences while displaying their worthiness of official recognition as authors (at a time when the modern notion of author was coming into its own) likewise contributed to the new enthusiasm for drama as the most valued branch of French literary activity.5 The high level of excellence achieved by French playwrights, which would continue throughout the second half of the century, led to the widespread belief that the French had developed a national dramatic tradition equaling that of the Greeks and Romans. One no longer needed a solid background in the literature and languages of classical antiquity to feel capable of attempting a tragedy or comedy; it sufficed to be acquainted with the dramatic masterpieces and theoretical treatises written in French. Indeed, many of the works authored by women were intended to be read in dialogue with recognized masterpieces by male playwrights. Since the critical debates were widely publicized and since it was claimed that many of the basic dramaturgical principles were derived from eternal and universal reason, aspiring playwrights could start off having a basic familiarity with their craft.6 Following consecrated models was an especially useful strategy for women playwrights, because it allowed them to know in advance what sorts of things the public would accept or reject. However, it also meant that subversive elements had to be carefully camouflaged so as not to offend the audience. (How this was done will be discussed in the introductions to the individual plays.) Another factor contributing to the rise of French drama was the prominence of the salons. Informal literary gatherings had met in the private homes of aristocrats or wealthy bourgeois since the sixteenth century, but during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries these became more numerous and prestigious, attracted a greater percentage of the leading intellectual figures, and more openly encouraged the participation of women in all aspects of literary activity. Women could participate in the increasingly public debates over dramatic theory and over the worth of individual plays. They could provide active support for authors they liked or join in attacks against authors whom they opposed, as happened when Antoinette Deshoulières composed a satirical poem as part of a cabal against Racine’s Phèdre. In some cases, friends from the salon actively encouraged 5. See Alain Viala, Naissance de l’écrivain (Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1985). 6. The standard treatments of what is commonly referred to as French classical theory are René Bray, La Formation de la doctrine classique en France (Paris: Nizet, 1927; repr. 1968); and Jacques Scherer, La Dramaturgie classique en France (Paris: Nizet, 1950). Among the recent studies in English, arguably the most thoughtful is John D. Lyons, Kingdom of Disorder: The Theory of Tragedy in Classical France (West Lafayette, IN: Purdue University Press, 1999).

Introduction 5 the efforts of an aspiring woman writer; this sometimes took the form of finding a male mentor willing to pass on some of his own experience.7 Villedieu was mentored by the abbé François Hédelin d’Aubignac, unsuccessful as a playwright but highly influential as a writer of dramatic theory, while, in the final years of the century, Marie-Anne Barbier would be mentored by the respected playwright Edme Boursault, himself a protégé of the great Pierre Corneille. During a period when women were not allowed into the universities, and indeed when debates raged over whether girls should receive any form of education, the salons functioned as the equivalent of educational institutions, exposing women of serious intellectual interests to significant books and authors and encouraging them to voice their own opinions on everything. As many contemporaries noted (some of them approvingly, but by no means all), cultivated women played an important role in shaping French literary taste, both in terms of subject matter and style. At least partially in deference to an increasingly refined and supportive female audience, the language in tragedy and in the more serious types of comedy was largely purged of vulgarity and colloquialism, while erotic or misogynistic remarks and gestures came to be frowned upon. Women helped to impose a preference for a simple and clear style that was also harmonious and moving, free of pedantry and esoteric classical allusions. Male characters in drama and fiction were expected to behave with unfailing politeness to women, and virtuous male protagonists had to speak of love in respectful and flowery language, as well as adhering to a code of conduct based on the values of chivalric novels. Indeed, the central role of love in French tragedies, which by the middle of the seventeenth century had become a nearly obligatory component, was often attributed by contemporaries to the demands of the female element of the public.8 Love was, however, far from a useless ornament in the plots, since the hero’s selfless devotion to his lady entails an obligation to perform valiant deeds in order to prove himself worthy, while in numerous plays the hero’s internal conflict is caused by a clash between the demands of his heart and those imposed by other forces, such as family, nation, or religion.

7. There has been a major renewal of interest in the salons in recent decades. In addition to the volumes by Joan DeJean and Faith Beasley cited above, see Carolyn C. Lougee, Le Paradis des femmes: Women, Salons, and Social Stratification in Seventeenth-Century France (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1976); Myriam Dufour-Maître, Les Précieuses: Naissance des femmes de lettres en France au XVIIe siècle (Paris: Champion, 2008); Delphine Denis, Le Parnasse galant: Institution d’une catégorie littéraire au XVIIe siècle (Paris: Champion, 2001); Anne Duggan, Salonnières, Furies, and Fairies: The Politics of Gender and Cultural Change in Absolutist France (Newark: University of Delaware Press, 2005). The best overall study of how women in France became integrated into its intellectual life is Linda Timmermans, L’Accès des femmes à la culture sous l’Ancien Régime (Paris: Champion, 2005). 8. See, for example, Carine Barbafieri, Atrée et Céladon: La galanterie dans le théâtre tragique de la France classique (1634–1702) (Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes, 2006).

6 PERRY GETHNER Of course, it would be a huge exaggeration to suggest, as did some literary theorists of the era, that the female portion of the literary public devised and imposed new rules on an unwilling male literary establishment. The “feminine influence” was in fact part of a shift in taste that emanated primarily from the salons and incorporated ideas and values that were likewise shared by a sizable percentage of male intellectuals. That shift, linked to a broader social phenomenon that is now generally known as galanterie, impacted all the arts, as well as real life.9 As a code of conduct, it came to be embraced primarily by the aristocracy and the upper bourgeoisie as a means of displaying personal refinement and of belonging to an elite. This aspect of the code covered such external markers of status as extreme attention to dress, comportment, and rituals of polite interaction. Sociability, especially at the salons, required a variety of skills: speaking clearly, correctly, and persuasively; possessing a broad general knowledge without sounding pompous or erudite; being an attentive listener; displaying wit and a general good sense of humor; having good taste in evaluating artistic productions; showing respect to people of merit, regardless of rank; and, most relevant here, showing deference to the ladies present. Plays and novels written by or for habitués of the salons tended to reflect these qualities in the language and conduct of the characters. As an ethical category, galanterie was linked to the code of honnêteté—a term that meant at the time something closer to “good breeding” or “refinement of conduct,” as well as adherence to moral standards. Curiously, galanterie was not exclusively linked to ethical standards; indeed, in later generations, it would increasingly denote sexual license. It is also true that honnêteté could become selfserving and function as a marker for aristocratic snobbery. But as used in literary works during the second half of the seventeenth century, both terms typically functioned as ideals designed to inspire admiration and emulation. As a moral standard, honnêteté was founded on secular principles, rather than religious, and it manifested itself essentially through a refined instinct or sensitivity for the well-being of others, combined with a sense of personal honor that required one to conform to the standards set by society for one’s rank and position, even if that necessitated sacrificing one’s life or happiness for the welfare of others. Once again, this code of conduct would come to be expected for the virtuous protagonists in literary works. However, whereas honnêteté was primarily an ethical and social ideal, galanterie also had a crucial aesthetic component. For salon society, the most important goal of literary works was to provide pleasure, and this pleasure was to derive from such characteristics as diversity, wit, elegance and refinement of language, and a strong emphasis on decorum. One of the consequences was the encouragement of generic hybridity, in other words, works with heterogeneous 9. The best overall treatment of galanterie in its various cultural and historical manifestations is Alain Viala, La France galante (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 2008).

Introduction 7 components (letters or narratives that mixed prose with verse; novels containing intercalated poems or stories; plays punctuated by episodes of music and dance; reworking of material derived from popular tradition, such as fairy tales and ghost stories, etc.). In the present volume, this hybridity is apparent in Pascal’s use of the machine play form, with its use of music and special effects; in Villedieu’s lighthearted dedicatory epistle that alternates between verse and prose and unconventionally places the concluding material at the beginning; and in Durand’s inclusion of her short plays as an appendix to a novel (itself a generic hybrid with much intercalated material). By the end of the seventeenth century, although intellectuals differed vehemently about whether modern developments in the arts and sciences constituted progress, there was general agreement that the French had already achieved a high level of success in the arts and letters, and especially in drama. The masterpieces from that century, rapidly canonized and widely read and revived, were seen as a cherished patrimony that helped to serve Louis XIV’s avowed goal of making France the cultural capital of Europe. During the course of the eighteenth century, increasing numbers of female intellectuals came to believe that they had an obligation not merely to appreciate that patrimony as readers and spectators, but also to contribute to it as authors. It is no accident that over the course of what became known as the Quarrel of the Ancients and Moderns, one of the sharpest disagreements concerned the role that women were deemed fit to play in the country’s cultural life, both as writers and as influential members of the public. The Ancients were strongly opposed to female participation and could on occasion produce openly misogynistic texts, whereas the Moderns valued educated and cultivated women and felt that their increasing role as arbiters of taste was beneficial. It should be noted, however, that even the male champions of the Modern cause would not qualify as feminists by today’s standards and held on to many of the conventional beliefs about women’s role in society.10 Although women would write for the stage in greater numbers and with greater success during the late seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, they also faced formidable obstacles, not all of which applied to their male counterparts. The professional companies could be difficult to deal with, and in many cases women playwrights needed to use male intermediaries (noble patrons, family members, friends). Molière, in his capacity as director of a troupe, seems to have been an exception in that he was supportive of Villedieu and even advanced her money well before staging the premiere of her play Le Favori [The Favorite Minister]. But the Comédie-Française, formed in 1680 as the official national company 10. For an insightful overview of the quarrel’s significance, see Larry F. Norman, The Shock of the Ancient: Literature and History in Early Modern France (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011). The principal polemical texts may be found in La Querelle des Anciens et des Modernes, ed. AnneMarie Lecoq (Paris: Gallimard, 2001).

8 PERRY GETHNER with a virtual monopoly in the capital, tended to treat young playwrights with little respect. For example, Catherine Bernard fought with the actors when they wanted to shorten the portion of the initial run of one of her tragedies when it was given alone (that is, without a comic afterpiece). Mme Ulrich got her comedy accepted but, apparently because it had been revised by a member of the troupe (who was an acclaimed dramatist in his own right), she was denied the usual privilege of free admission to performances. Due to the standard view that public notoriety undermined a woman’s reputation for modesty, there was often pressure on women playwrights to have their works staged or published anonymously. This pressure was especially severe for women of the aristocracy, since nobles were not supposed to engage in lucrative activities. If getting plays staged was a challenge, so was getting them published. Obtaining a privilege (official permission to publish a book) was complicated, and women writers often turned to male intermediaries, such as relatives, influential friends, or booksellers, to handle the process. Privileges, however, were deemed essential only for works printed in Paris; women who published elsewhere did not bother with them. After around 1670 it became somewhat more common, though still not the norm, for women authors to obtain privileges directly. Another troublesome question was whether to allow their names to appear on the title page or the privilege (all or part of which was typically printed with the volume). Many women, especially those of noble rank, preferred to designate themselves by the title Madame or Mademoiselle, followed by their initial(s). Although some preferred complete anonymity, others wanted to make it clear to the public that they were female. In a number of cases, a woman writer who began her career publishing anonymously would eventually allow her full name to be used. And, of course, there were problems shared with male writers, such as exploitation by publishers, pirated editions, false attributions, deliberate tampering with the text, and faulty presentation (especially if the author was not around to oversee the printing).11 Another constraint was the view, frequently expressed well into the twentieth century, that women, due to the inherent limitations of their gender, are incapable of cultivating the loftiest of literary forms. It was at least recognized that women could write with distinction in forms such as familiar letters, short verse, and fiction, where their greater emotional sensitivity and their instinctive cultivation of a simple and “natural” style, unhampered by the standard formal education accorded to men, served them well. Of course, that same lack of education 11. See Going Public: Women and Publishing in Early Modern France, ed. Elizabeth C. Goldsmith and Dena Goodman (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1995); Myriam Dufour-Maître, “Editer, imprimer, publier: Quelques stratégies féminines au XVIIe siècle,” in L’écrivain éditeur, volume 1: Du Moyen Âge à la fin du XVIIIe siècle, ed. François Bessire (Geneva: Droz, 2001), 257–76; Edwige KellerRahbé, “Pratiques et usages du privilège d’auteur chez Mme de Villedieu et quelques autres femmes de lettres du XVIIe siècle,” Œuvres et critiques 35, no. 1 (2010): 69–94.

Introduction 9 was held against women who wanted to write in other areas. This prejudice led to the constant charge that women playwrights whose efforts were successful must have used male collaborators or, even worse, that the women had merely lent their names to male authors who preferred to remain hidden. The women playwrights expressed their outrage in a variety of ways. The most common was to compose prefaces to the published texts of their plays in which they objected to these charges as an attack on their reputation, competence, and integrity. In the final decade of the seventeenth century and the early decades of the next, a number of women playwrights organized the publication of their collected works, which was a particularly visible method of asserting authorial control and dignity.12 In this period, as has been noted, women playwrights cultivated every dramatic form available. Although the current anthology includes examples of only three (tragedy, short comedy, and tragicomedy), women likewise composed works in other genres such as pastoral, farce, and tearful comedy. It is also remarkable that as a native French operatic tradition developed during the final decades of the seventeenth century, women got involved with it very quickly: during the 1690s both a female composer, Elisabeth Jacquet de La Guerre, and a female librettist, Louise-Geneviève de Sainctonge, had works staged at the Opéra.13 However, it was in the two most prestigious dramatic genres, the ones going back to classical antiquity, that the women authors most directly competed against their male counterparts, and it is in those areas (tragedy and comedy) that their originality can perhaps be most clearly demonstrated. (The hybrid genre of machine plays will be discussed in the introduction to Pascal’s Endymion.)

Tragedy Between roughly 1630 and 1680 French authors created a distinctive new type of tragedy. It would gain acceptance from critics and audiences alike thanks to the appearance of a series of masterpieces, many of them written by Pierre Corneille and Jean Racine. These tragedies maintained their popularity long after the death of their authors, and some of them have remained staples of the repertory to the present day. The hallmarks of the new tragedy included the following: a central 12. See Perry Gethner, “French Women Writers and Heroic Genres,” in Women Writing Back/Writing Women Back: Transnational Perspectives from the Late Middle Ages to the Dawn of the Modern Era, ed. Anke Gilleir, Alicia C. Montoya, and Suzan van Dijk (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 235–53; Gethner, “Stratégies de publication et notions de carrière chez les femmes dramaturges sous le règne du Roi Soleil,” in Le Parnasse du théâtre: Les recueils d’œuvres complètes de théâtre au XVIIe siècle, ed. Georges Forestier, Edric Caldicott, and Claude Bourqui (Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 2007), 309–23. 13. Sainctonge’s tragic opera libretti appear in an earlier volume of the Other Voice series: Dramatizing Dido, Circe, and Griselda, trans. Janet Levarie Smarr (Toronto: Centre for Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 2010).

10 PERRY GETHNER role for love plots (absent in the tragedies of the ancient Greeks) that also generate internal conflicts in which love competes with other forms of obligation; emphasis on the protagonists’ inner lives; little or no violent action shown on stage; a heroic world where protagonists are expected to embody such values as courage, selflessness, loyalty, lucidity, piety, and good manners; choice of historical subject matter but with emphasis on the elements of the story that are timeless, and thus featuring only a minimum of what would later be termed local color. Plays were expected to follow a long list of dramaturgical rules (see below), and to be morally edifying (avoiding anything that could give offense to the political and religious authorities). Apart from a few experiments with tragedies in prose, which were poorly received, tragedies were written in verse, which meant alexandrine (12-syllable) lines in rhyming couplets, and with strict adherence to the rules of versification codified during the Renaissance and seventeenth century. Plays were held to both dramatic and literary standards, able to satisfy both spectators in the theater and readers of the published text. During the second quarter of the seventeenth century, French intellectuals became consumed with debates over the rules governing drama. It was believed that greatness in literature was largely dependent on rational criteria that were timeless and universal and could be codified. Among the rules that would be formally adopted by the French Academy, the most famous were the three unities of time, place, and action, plus verisimilitude and bienséances (decorum). In their strictest sense, which gained acceptance by around the midpoint of the century, the unities required that the time of the represented action last no more than twenty-four hours, that the play use a single set (no scene changes), and that the plot be perfectly unified (no subplots, no extraneous scenes or characters). Plausibility came to depend on conventional understanding of what constituted normal and proper behavior, though exceptions could be carved out for exceptional occurrences derived from history or mythology. Decorum banished nearly all violent and unseemly actions from the spectator’s view, though they could happen off stage and be recounted by a messenger. While it was primarily an aesthetic category (tying representation to what was appropriate for a given person, place, or circumstance), it was sometimes converted into a moral category, prohibiting anything that the public might deem too shocking or offensive. One clear example of this is Villedieu’s alteration of history for the denouement of Nitetis: instead of allowing Cambyses to contract an incestuous marriage with his sister, she has the evil king commit suicide before it can take place. Much of the theoretical debate concerned the role of emotions in drama, and particularly in tragedy. The requirement, derived from Aristotle, to produce the feelings of pity and fear in the spectator came to be linked to the principle that the playwright should promote identification with the protagonists, concern for whose welfare could keep the audience anxious throughout the play. Once pity and

Introduction 11 fear are not necessarily restricted to the play’s conclusion, it becomes acceptable to have happy endings in which the virtuous characters emerge victorious, while only the villains are killed off. This is the principle at work in plays like Nitetis; no one at the time would have questioned the label of tragedy that the author gave it. At the same time, Pierre Corneille pioneered a type of heroic tragedy in which the protagonist’s exceptional greatness of soul—an absolute devotion to principle accompanied by little or no human weakness—would inspire primarily admiration in the viewer. Although in such plays admiration remains the dominant emotion, it does not preclude a substantial role for pathos. The title characters of Endymion and Nitetis were designed to provoke a similar response of pathos mixed with admiration, although the authors were far from following Corneille’s model in all respects. In a handful of cases, playwrights presented heroic figures who exercise their greatness in evil ways, thus showing that strength of will is not always tied to virtue, but they usually took pains to balance the evil protagonist with an example of conventional goodness, as is the case in Genseric. Finally, the authors of French tragedy gradually moved away from the ancient Greek emphasis on the role of Fate as an external force crushing the protagonists and over which they have little or no power. Characters tend to be fully conscious of their thoughts and emotions and spend much of their time in carefully reasoned deliberation, whether or not their actions turn out to be reasonable. In order to inspire admiration, they needed to be presented as active agents rather than passive victims.14 It would take a long time for women to try their hand at tragedy. Deemed the most prestigious branch of drama, it deserved, in the view of many people, to be cultivated only by men. In addition, some theorists felt that in order to write a proper tragedy, authors had to be well versed in the history and literature of classical antiquity (held to be the greatest heroic age) and capable of understanding the heroic mentality. The breakthrough for women occurred in large part because of Cardinal Richelieu’s active support for the composition of tragedies based on religious themes, especially the glorious deaths of Christian martyrs. Because the type of heroism in such plays centered on passive endurance and profound religious devotion, while not necessarily involving such staples of heroic tragedy as battles or statecraft, hagiographic subjects appealed strongly to women writers, and four of them published martyr plays, including the only French nun known to have composed a dramatic work. It is not clear whether any of those plays were performed, but they must have attracted some attention, because two were republished, and one of them garnered a laudatory poem from Pierre Corneille, the writer of the most esteemed of all French religious tragedies, Polyeucte.

14. For a discussion of the role of emotions in the dramatic theory and practice of the time, see Georges Forestier, Essai de génétique théâtrale: Corneille à l’œuvre (Geneva: Droz, 2004); Forestier, La Tragédie française: Passions tragiques et règles classiques (Paris: Armand Colin, 2010).

12 PERRY GETHNER Although the total number of tragedies produced by French women during the second half of the seventeenth century is small (nine, counting two plays labeled as tragicomedies but which are closer to tragedy), the corpus is by no means negligible. Five were staged professionally in Paris, two of them were revived, and another had an unusually successful initial run. Although none of these plays appeared separately in more than one edition, those of Villedieu and Deshoulières would be included in posthumous collections of their complete works (and they were among the first French women to gain this type of authorial recognition). Marie-Anne Barbier, a prolific playwright from the first quarter of the eighteenth century, was apparently the first to boast of belonging to a respected tradition of women writers in various genres that included Catherine Bernard, whose acclaim as a writer of tragedies helped to inspire her.15 One of the most innovative features of these tragedies is the way female characters are portrayed. The heroic woman, or femme forte, who had been something of a staple in French literature during the first half of the seventeenth century, faded from prominence in the decades following. This was due to a number of factors: displeasure with the prominent role of powerful aristocratic women during the mid-century civil war, known as the Fronde; dissatisfaction with the performance of the two queen mothers who had served as regents for much of the first half of the century (Maria de’ Medici and Anne of Austria); and the authoritarian persona adopted by Louis XIV, who constantly compared himself to the sun and took care to emphasize his manly attributes. Henceforth, male playwrights tended to portray reigning queens in a mainly negative light: not fully competent, impetuous, violent, blinded by passions such as love or jealousy, prone to let personal feelings override concern for justice and political expediency. Some of the older queens in these plays hold on to their power only by murdering their children or grandchildren. Women playwrights, on the other hand, took a more favorable view of female rulers, portraying them as intelligent, energetic, capable of resolute action, and unwilling to be bossed around by arrogant and tyrannical men. The title character in Bernard’s Laodamie (1737; performed 1689) stands out as a positive role model, displaying political astuteness and courage, and she manages to control her amorous feelings in order to do what is right for her country.16 Her sole limitation, which leads to her downfall, is that she is not a warrior and finds herself forced to depend on a male hero. The empress in Deshoulières’s Genseric (1680), though a captive detained in a foreign land, retains her indomitable spirit and helps to plan an escape attempt, which ultimately fails.

15. This statement occurs in the preface to her tragedy Arrie et Pétus (1702). There is a translation of that work and of Bernard’s Laodamie in The Lunatic Lover, trans. Gethner. 16. Unless otherwise specified, dates of plays given in parentheses refer to the first published edition. If that date is considerably later than the date of first performance, that fact is noted.

Introduction 13 The shift in popular taste led playwrights to abandon the portrayal of capable female rulers and also women warriors. The rare attempts by male dramatists to showcase female fighters, such as Thomas Corneille’s Bradamante (1696), were poorly received, and the same fate awaited those female dramatists of the following century who went further and dared present warriors who were at the same time reigning queens: Barbier’s Tomyris (1707), Madeleine-Angélique de Gomez’s Marsidie (1724), Anne-Marie Du Boccage’s Les Amazones [The Amazons] (1749). On the other hand, female protagonists were allowed to exercise considerable political influence behind the scenes, by giving advice or admonition to male leaders, or by encouraging the activities of men who love them. Villedieu’s Manlius (1662) and Nitetis (1663) and Bernard’s Brutus (1691) provide good examples of this attenuated version of the strong-willed woman. In the first decade of the next century, Barbier would present a heroine who organizes a conspiracy that nearly succeeds, manipulating male politicians and generals while cleverly concealing her central role in the business (Arrie et Pétus [Arria and Paetus]), and another heroine who sets the political agenda for her politician sons and insists that they maintain their commitment to her populist ideology (Cornélie mère des Gracques [Cornelia Mother of the Gracchi], 1703). Arguably the most overtly feminist component of tragedies by women is the debunking of standard models of male heroism. What has been termed the “demolition of the hero” during the second half of the seventeenth century relates to various political, social, and religious factors, but it is also possible to locate a gender-related component.17 The key sociopolitical factor was the deliberate reduction in the power of the traditional nobility at the expense of an increasingly absolutist monarchy, whose bureaucracy consisted largely of people recruited from the bourgeoisie. The ethos of the long-established aristocracy (known as the “sword nobility”) was a code based on personal and family honor, eagerness to pursue glory, need to present an ostentatiously grand appearance, overweening pride and courage, and resistance to other forms of authority. But that code came to be perceived as a survival of feudalism out of step with modern notions of a well-run nation state. The religious factor was the realization that the noble ethos was in many respects incompatible with Christian values. Discomfort with the exaltation of the heroic ideal was especially strong among those affiliated with a religious movement known as Jansenism, which held an extremely pessimistic view of human nature influenced by St. Augustine. Jansenists emphasized the fallen state of humans who are in constant need of divine grace, favored a turning 17. The phrase “demolition of the hero” was coined by Paul Bénichou in his influential study Morales du grand siècle (Paris: Gallimard, 1948), and it has been explored in a large number of studies, especially monographs devoted to Corneille or Racine. See, for example, Serge Doubrovsky, Corneille et la dialectique du héros (Paris: Gallimard, 1963); André Stegmann, L’Héroïsme cornélien, genèse et signification, 2 vols. (Paris: Armand Colin, 1968).

14 PERRY GETHNER away from worldly activities so as to focus on service to God, and questioned the view that humans could accomplish great things purely by their own efforts. Moralist writers, many of them influenced by Jansenist ideas, wrote scathingly of the vanity of most human pursuits, debunked supposedly virtuous or glorious actions (often performed for inglorious reasons), and argued that most people most of the time are incapable of true self-knowledge, thus being unaware of their basic wretchedness. In the hands of women writers, these anti-heroic views could take on a particularly anti-male cast. French tragedy, especially that of Pierre Corneille, had relied heavily on ancient Rome to provide a model of ultimate heroic stature. But women playwrights treating Roman history tended to adopt the opposite perspective: even if the heroic ideal was at times fully realized and remains worthy of our admiration, on far too many occasions supposedly great Roman leaders failed to live up to their principles. As a result, the women authors often chose male characters who are seriously flawed or even totally contemptible or villainous. Guilty of bad judgment, prejudice, hypocrisy, even cowardice, those leaders discredit Rome and, by extension, the model of French heroic tragedy. The first example of this phenomenon is the negative portrayal of the distinguished general Torquatus in Villedieu’s Manlius. Significantly, the playwright alters history to provide a happy ending: Torquatus, after having disgraced himself by various acts of misconduct, experiences a spiritual conversion in the final scene, pardons his son, renounces his unworthy passion for a captive princess, agrees to a politically necessary marriage for himself, and reaffirms his commitment to proper Roman values. The title character in Bernard’s Brutus, far from being the supreme model of Roman patriotic fervor and self-sacrifice, is shown as a conflicted, irresolute leader who believes that the senate is forcing him to issue an unjust death sentence on his elder son and who finally sinks into disillusionment and despair. Women playwrights were not alone in selecting odious leaders from antiquity as their protagonists, but they provide some of the most memorable examples, including such non-Roman tyrants as Cambyses (in Nitetis) and the title character in Genseric. However, not all the women playwrights followed Villedieu’s lead in providing happy endings where the tyrant reforms or is killed. In most other cases the virtuous characters die, albeit nobly, leaving the villainous leaders in power and only slightly (and presumably only temporarily) punished by the loss of a loved one. Another key innovation by women playwrights was the emphasis on genuine friendship between women. Male writers, following a misogynistic tradition going back to antiquity, automatically assumed that women are incapable of having reasonable and moderate relationships, unable to resist violent passions such as love, hatred, and jealousy. Male playwrights like Corneille and Racine, in tragedies with more than one female protagonist, tend to make them rivals in love

Introduction 15 who hate and sometimes try to destroy one another. Even in plays in which the women are not rivals and ought to form an alliance, they generally fail to do so and treat one another with sarcasm and scorn. Women writers, on the other hand, sometimes show female characters who care deeply about one another, are willing to make sacrifices to ensure the other’s welfare, and always give what they believe to be good advice. Even when they discover that they are rivals in love, their bond with each other remains firm. However, more often than not female friendships highlight the pathos in the situation of women who are powerless victims; only rarely does the friendship involve women of heroic stature who join forces in a common cause.18

Comedy Because the number of comic plays composed by French women in this period is likewise very small, it is hard to generalize about their contribution to that dramatic genre. Although it can hardly measure up to the remarkable achievements of English women playwrights during the Restoration period, whose work tends to be far more daring and at times overtly protofeminist, the corpus does contain undeniable elements of satire, making occasional comments on the unjust treatment of women and featuring proper and improper role models. The French women authors’ most significant contribution came in the domain of the one-act play. While the farce, a late medieval form of comedy, had fallen into disfavor with critics because of its frequent reliance on vulgar language, crude physical humor, demeaning treatment of women, and morally questionable endings, audiences still enjoyed it, and the genre would persist in a somewhat sanitized version. Several women would compose works in that genre, including the only professional actress of the century known to have written an original play, Mlle Longchamp (Le Voleur [The Thief], lost, performed 1687). However, around the middle of the seventeenth century, a new brand of one-act comedy developed in which all the objectionable features of farce were eliminated. These works are miniature comedies of manners, typically featuring characters drawn from the aristocracy and the upper bourgeoisie. Since during the third quarter of the century the practice of using afterpieces (short comedies performed following a full-length play) became the norm for Parisian theatrical companies, an increasing number of playwrights cultivated them. Short comedies were particularly appealing to novice playwrights, because they are far less complicated to write than 18. For a fuller discussion, see Perry Gethner, “Female Friendships in Plays by Women Writers,” Cahiers du dix-septième 12, no. 2 (2009): 31–41; Gethner, “Reinterpreting the Griselda Legend: Sainctonge versus Perrault,” Women in French Studies (special issue, 2008): 48–57. As these studies show, the phenomenon of friendship between women is not limited to tragedy; examples are also found in comedy and tearful comedy or melodrama.

16 PERRY GETHNER full-length plays: they utilize a small number of characters who are little more than stereotypes, have a minimal plot, focus on short humorous scenes, and rely on caricature and implausibility. The first female practitioner of this form, Françoise Pascal, centered her short plays on the foibles of delusional members of salon society who fail to grasp the difference between real life and the world of novels and mythology. Her L’Amoureux extravagant [The Lunatic Lover] (1657) makes fun of a wellmeaning but untalented and silly male poet, whose failures in the areas of poetic composition and love are exploited by a more intelligent group of friends and their servants.19 In L’Amoureuse vaine et ridicule [The Vain and Ridiculous Lady in Love] (1657), Clorinde, a woman in her thirties, imagines that she is an irresistibly beautiful teenager and that every man who sees her is secretly in love with her. Although her folly is publicly exposed through a practical joke played on her by two teenaged girls who live nearby, in collusion with their fiancés, Clorinde remains firmly locked in her dream world at the end of the play, never realizing how she has been ridiculed. One-act plays of this type, since they require a small cast and a minimal stage set, could be performed by amateurs as well as by professionals. They are entertaining, without being offensive to either sex or to members of any social class or profession. Even when Pascal returned to the more traditional farce in her last comedy, Le Vieillard amoureux [The Old Man in Love] (1664), which was intended for a Parisian troupe that still employed specialists in farce, she added several personal touches: husbands who mistreat their wives are sharply castigated, and there is a brief moment of pathos when the old man realizes that he must forgive the young lovers and everyone bursts into tears. As the century came to a close, a new generation of male playwrights cultivated a more cynical brand of comedy that highlighted the rise of a new class of financiers, with a concomitant emphasis placed on greed and social climbing, to the detriment of the traditional social hierarchy and conventional moral standards. These authors also took a far less rosy view of marriage, with more attention paid to the sometimes sordid negotiations that lead up to it and to the lack of harmony between spouses, who often hope to see their union terminated. The women playwrights of that generation tended to share that cynicism and could be as daring as the men in denouncing social ills. Mme Ulrich’s La Folle enchère [The Crazy Auction] (1691) turns the metaphor of the marriage market into literal reality. Two rich and vain women, both middle-aged, compete in financial pledges to secure the hand of a handsome young man whose greedy father proposes to sell him to the highest bidder. Following what the characters themselves term an auction, the loser takes her revenge by abducting the coveted groom. Ulrich adds an extra layer of subversion by showing that young women, subject to tight parental control, are the principal victims of such transactions: the handsome young man is really a 19. This play is included in The Lunatic Lover, trans. Gethner.

Introduction 17 young woman in disguise, while the tyrannical father and one of the middle-aged rivals are really disguised valets. However scandalous, the plot reflects the mores of the era, while nodding in the direction of conventional comic resolution, since the elaborate deception is perpetrated in order to unite two young people from good families who genuinely love each other. Sainctonge’s L’Intrigue des concerts [The Intrigue at the Concert] (1714, but probably composed around 1695) shows the difficulties faced by a young woman who is trying to earn an honest living as a professional singer, and it also exposes an unscrupulous banker, appropriately named La Richardière, who in addition to his financial dishonesty maintains a scandalous private life, constantly seducing and impregnating his female servants. Again, the cynicism is not total, for the banker’s stepson, likewise a financier, is an honorable young man who sincerely loves the heroine. Although the young lovers are finally united, the song that concludes the play reminds the audience that nowadays success in love depends primarily on wealth. The same disenchanted view of society would become even more prominent in comedies intended for private theatricals rather than the public playhouse. One of the most popular types of such short comedy is the dramatic proverb, which started as a parlor game akin to charades. It is a short play illustrating a wellknown proverb but without mentioning that proverb in the text; the audience has to guess. The first authors to refine the proverb play from an improvised sketch into a literary form, to be written down and published, were two women, Henriette-Julie de Murat and Catherine Durand. Freed from the constraints of the public playhouse, where censorship was becoming increasingly rigid, they dared to present a variety of subversive and risqué situations, which allowed for some protofeminist comments. We see young aristocratic men who are hopelessly inept socially or even mentally deficient, debauched youths who treat their girlfriends with not the slightest bit of respect or decency, callous husbands who flaunt their mistresses in front of their wives, and shallow fops who try to court several different women at the same time, not realizing that the women are capable of using the same tactics against them. Some of the women are equally willing to violate the codes of morality and propriety. A wronged wife takes a lover and fearlessly confronts her husband; two teenaged girls sneak out to an all-night party to experience the pleasures accorded to adult women; a girl abandoned by her parents on a dreary country estate for no apparent reason becomes so angry at her confinement that she resolves to take a handsome peasant youth as her lover. In some cases the emancipated women manage to prevail. Finally, mention should be made of a form of comedy that died out when it was overtaken by opera: comedy-ballet (spoken comedy with totally sung prologue, epilogue, and interludes). These works, very expensive to produce, were usually royal commissions, as was the case with the lone example written by a woman—King Charles II of England, an avid Francophile, called upon a French

18 PERRY GETHNER Huguenot expatriate living in London, Anne de La Roche-Guilhen, to compose a hybrid play to celebrate his birthday in 1677. Rare-en-tout [All-Wondrous], La Roche-Guilhen’s sole work for the stage, contains much political, literary, and musical satire, as well as some protofeminist elements: the title character, a lady’s man who falls in and out of love with astonishing rapidity, is humiliated, though not daunted by his misadventures; praise is accorded to accomplished female singers, whether amateur or professional; and the shepherds and nymphs in the allegorical interludes do not hesitate to criticize satyrs and fickle lovers for their lack of refinement and honesty.20

Tragicomedy The intermediate genre of tragicomedy enjoyed exceptional popularity in France between roughly 1620 and 1660.21 In its most common form, the plot is fictional, often derived from well-known novels, and centers around the adventures of young lovers. The obstacles tend to arise from external forces, such as hostile parents, unscrupulous rivals, natural disasters, wars, or political intrigues. Since new obstacles may arise unexpectedly during the course of the play, the action is episodic and not always properly unified. The characters are mostly undeveloped, often simply divided into heroes and villains, and poetic justice is normally observed at the conclusion (the good characters are rewarded and the bad ones appropriately punished). The reliance on surprises, suspense, and constantly renewed challenges reinforces a feeling of life as dangerously unstable and filled with uncertainties. But surprises may be favorable as well as unfavorable, and in all but a handful of cases there is a happy ending. Despite the impression given by the name, probably fewer than half the tragicomedies contain comic characters or episodes, or feature characters taken from differing social ranks. There are a number of reasons why tragicomedy fell out of favor during the second half of the seventeenth century. Perhaps the most important was the acceptance of the three unities. Tragicomic plots seemed even more unbelievable when a large number of actions had to be squeezed into a single day and a single place. In addition, critics and audiences came to recognize the principle that tragedies were allowed to have happy endings (there are examples of this among the ancient Greeks), making some critics question whether a separate genre of tragicomedy was needed. Starting with the second quarter of the century, tragedies increasingly featured love plots, though these had to be carefully intertwined with more serious concerns, such as politics or religion; once again, tragedy appropriated an 20. This play is included in The Lunatic Lover, trans. Gethner. 21. The best general studies of French tragicomedy from this period are Hélène Baby, La Tragi-comédie de Corneille à Quinault (Paris: Klincksieck, 2001); and Roger Guichemerre, La Tragi-comédie (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1981).

Introduction 19 element that had been crucial to the success of the intermediate genre. Finally, French critics adopted a new principle, the unity of tone, which banned the use of overly serious elements in a comedy or of comic elements in a tragedy; this innovation likewise undermined the legitimacy of tragicomedy. Since the genre was in decline when women playwrights started to become a significant presence, it is not surprising that women composed few works in that form, and none at all after 1665. However, Françoise Pascal managed to produce some genuinely innovative tragicomedies. Her Agathonphile (1655) combines a stock tragicomic love plot with a Christian martyr scenario, while Endymion (1657) combines an atypical love plot (a romance between a human and a goddess) with a surprising variant of the play-within-a-play device (much of the action turns out in retrospect to have occurred within a magically induced dream). Endymion is also a rare example of a tragicomedy that is also a machine play (see the introduction to that play). All three of her tragicomedies also have feminist touches: the heroines are far more active and energetic than their male counterparts, and in Endymion we encounter a version of polytheism in which Diana is worshiped as the most powerful deity. The two plays that Villedieu labeled as tragicomedies also contain feminist touches, but there is nothing formally innovative about them. Manlius is really a tragedy with a happy ending, while Le Favori is really a comedy featuring characters of very high rank.

Note on the Translations I have tried to make these translations as readable and as stageworthy as possible. I have followed the common practice of rendering alexandrine lines in rhyming couplets as iambic pentameter in blank verse. For verse plays, I have kept exactly the same number of lines as in the original. My English verse is not perfectly regular, though I hardly take more liberties than English blank-verse plays of the Restoration period. I have avoided archaic or stilted grammar and vocabulary, while trying to make the tragedies sound slightly more elevated in tone than ordinary colloquial speech. Elaborate poetic devices that would confuse the modern English reader have been simplified (for example, the personification of abstractions and of body parts, or the ubiquitous use of terms like “fire” or “irons” to designate amorous passion). The inconsistency in the rendering of proper names is intentional. For names derived from classical history or mythology, I have used the standard English form. For invented characters for whose names I could find no English equivalent, I have retained the French form. For obviously parodic names (Pedanta and Formont [strong mountain] in Durand’s eighth proverb comedy), I again keep the French forms, since their meaning should be easily grasped. In verse plays, for the

20 PERRY GETHNER sake of prosody, I normally drop the possessive “s” for names that end in “s” (e.g., Venus’ rather than Venus’s, Atlas’ rather than Atlas’s). In accordance with the conventions of English-language drama, I have eliminated the divisions of acts into scenes, because the term scene in traditional French usage referred not to a change of decor (banned during the period when these plays were written) but rather to the entrances or exits of characters. In all such cases I have indicated those entrances and exits with stage directions. In a number of cases, I have added stage directions to clarify the action for the reader; these are indicated in brackets, whereas the stage directions in the original texts are indicated in parentheses. Translations of sources cited in the notes to the plays are my own unless otherwise indicated.

Françoise Pascal Biography Françoise Pascal merits a place of honor in the history of French women writers. Although she was not the very first woman to earn her living through her pen (there had been isolated examples going back to Marie de France in the twelfth century), she was the first professional woman author to compose plays. She was also the first to have her plays staged publicly by professional troupes. Many gaps remain in our knowledge of Pascal’s life.1 She was born in Lyon in 1632. Her father was a customs commissioner, who in 1644 entered the service of the Duke de Villeroy, governor of the Lyon region. She seems to have received a solid education, encouraged no doubt by her family’s connections to Villeroy, other local officials, and the archbishop. At age fifteen she was already exchanging verses with the influential court poet, Isaac de Benserade. By age twenty-five she was in the service of Villeroy, serving presumably as governess or drawing and music teacher. She published three full-length tragicomedies and three short one-act comedies between 1655 and 1664. There can be no doubt of her strong pride in her native city: she had all her plays printed there, she dedicated all three of her tragicomedies to local dignitaries, and on the title page of the first two she designated herself as “Françoise Pascal fille Lyonnoise” [daughter of Lyon]. Yet for unknown reasons she left Lyon and settled in Paris around 1667. There she supported herself by giving lessons in drawing and music and by painting portraits. None of her artwork survives, but she must have enjoyed a solid reputation, since one of her commissions was to paint the bishop of Périgueux. Having actively frequented the salon society in her native city, which had inspired both her worldly (though impeccably chaste) poetry and the choice of subject matter for her plays, she soon became associated with salons in the capital. Not surprisingly, her first publication in Paris was a collection of letters in the galant style, mixing verse and prose (Le Commerce du Parnasse [Correspondence between Poets], 1669). The principal person with whom she corresponds in this collection, identified only by the salon name of Tersandre, is believed to be the respected poet Guilleragues (also the author of the first French epistolary novel). From the final letter, we learn that Pascal had a sister who had remained in Lyon. Around 1670, Pascal began to affiliate with ecclesiastical circles and to publish religious verse, including two 1. For Pascal’s biography, see Fernand Baldensperger, “Françoise Pascal, ‘fille lyonnaise,’ ” in Etudes d’histoire littéraire, vol. 3 (Paris: Droz, 1939; repr. Geneva: Slatkine, 1973), 1–31; as well as Deborah Steinberger’s introduction to her critical edition of Le Commerce du Parnasse (Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 2001); and Theresa Varney Kennedy’s introduction to her critical edition of Agathonphile martyr (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2008).

21

22 FRANÇOISE PASCAL collections of Christmas hymns intended to be sung to popular tunes of the day. However, it is not certain that Pascal abandoned secular literature completely during the final decades of her life. A pastoral play of hers was performed at Versailles in 1686 (though never published), and a nonreligious song of hers was published in 1688 in the Mercure galant (the premier journal of the era, which published poems and short stories, as well as news items). In 1698 Pascal was listed in Vertron’s compendium Catalogue de dames vivantes illustres [Catalogue of Living Illustrious Ladies], which means that she was still living at that time. The date of her death remains unknown. Judging from the evidence, Pascal was highly regarded by her contemporaries. The city of Lyon honored her with a cash prize for two of her plays; the edition of her first play contains complimentary verses by fellow poets; her Christmas hymns were reprinted several times. The prefaces and dedicatory epistles to her plays reveal that her works were esteemed to the point of arousing the standard misogynist charge that she must have used a male ghost-writer—an accusation that she emphatically denied. The dedication of her last tragicomedy, Sésostris (1661), indicates that the play was staged in Lyon. It is also believed that her final comedy, Le Vieillard amoureux [The Old Man in Love] (published in 1664), was staged in Paris at the Hôtel de Bourgogne; given that the comic valet is named Philipin, the stage name of the company’s leading actor for farce, it is likely that Pascal intended the work for them. Pascal’s second tragicomedy, Endymion, which was published in 1657, may well have been commissioned by another Parisian troupe to compete with a machine play on the same subject by Gabriel Gilbert (see below). Until recently it was thought that only Pascal’s last two plays were performed. But it is now known that Villeroy maintained a troupe of actors who could well have staged all of her plays.2 Scholars have also speculated that Pascal was in contact with Molière during the extended visit of his troupe to Lyon (1653–57) and that he may have staged one or more of her plays. This is possible, but no evidence has so far come to light to confirm it. Pascal must have been a remarkable woman. She published under her own name and never attempted to disguise her identity. She lived alone in Paris and supported herself by her talents at a time when such a lifestyle choice was unusual. Her choice of dramatic genre and subject matter displays her keen awareness of how popular taste was evolving. She composed tragicomedies at a time when that genre was still in vogue and drew her plots from popular novels that featured such 2. A document from 1668 lists sixty-one plays in the repertory of Villeroy’s troupe when they planned to visit Dijon that year. Unfortunately, none of them was by Françoise Pascal (who by that time had stopped writing drama and had moved to Paris). A play entitled Endymion was in the repertory of another provincial troupe, bearing the name Troupe du Dauphin, which toured Dijon that same year. But, given their probable connections with Paris and lack of connections with Lyon, the play in question was likely Gabriel Gilbert’s. See Louis de Gouvenain, Le Théâtre à Dijon, 1422–1790 (Dijon: E. Jobard, 1888), 56–58.

Endymion 23 fashionable themes as Christian martyrs, exciting adventures, hidden identities, chivalrous and self-sacrificing lovers, and court intrigue. She was the first and only woman to attempt the new hybrid form known as the machine play, of which Endymion is a significant example (see below). Pascal was also among the first to rehabilitate the one-act comedy. The new style of short comedy, in contrast to traditional farce, featured elegant language and refined characters whose behavior reflected the world of the salons, while largely avoiding vulgarity and slapstick.

A Traditional Myth Reinterpreted Although the myth of Endymion was frequently featured in the literature, art, and music of the Renaissance and early modern period, it is among the most puzzling stories from ancient tradition.3 Early sources agree on little more than that he was exceptionally handsome, spent most or all of his life asleep, and was loved by the goddess of the moon. Some accounts make him a king (usually of the land of Elis) and a son or grandson of Zeus, but other writers make him a mere shepherd or hunter. The goddess of the moon who loved him was Selene (Luna for the Romans), and only in the later years of the Roman Empire would her role be transferred to another moon goddess, Diana (the Greek Artemis), associated with the hunt and with virginity. The satirist Lucian (second century CE), whose references to Endymion are the most extensive among classical authors, still refers to the goddess-lover as Selene (Dialogues of the Gods, number 11; Praising a Fly).4 I have not found any linking of the names of Endymion and Diana until the Mythologies of Fulgentius (end of the fifth century or beginning of the sixth). Not surprisingly, the Endymion myth was subjected to a dizzying variety of interpretations. As far back as the Hellenistic period, scholars who aimed to demythologize the old stories and link them either to historical personages or to moral messages transformed Endymion into a scientist: as a pioneer of astronomy, he slept during the daytime so that he could spend the entire night systematically studying the movements of the moon. Fulgentius proposed an additional scientific explanation of the story: the exhalations of the moon and stars, combined with the nightly dew, are beneficial to sheep (justifying the version of the myth that makes the hero a shepherd). Among the more ingenious interpretations made by later writers are the glorification of Endymion as a seeker of higher things (he withdraws from normal life in order to contemplate the moon, symbol 3. For a useful overview of the early history of the Endymion myth, as well as treatments of it in English, see Edward LeComte, Endymion in England (New York: King’s Crown Press, 1944). See also Gethner, “The Endymion Myth in Early French Opera,” Cahiers du dix-septième 11, no. 2 (2007): 71–82, focusing on French treatments in the generation following Françoise Pascal. 4. Curiously, in what is perhaps his most famous work, True History, Lucian makes Endymion king of the Moon, but makes that land an all-male society.

24 FRANÇOISE PASCAL of spiritual truth or of transcendent beauty); the presentation of Diana as a model for virtuous and chaste princesses who, when compelled to make marriages of state (the shepherd functioning as a symbol for the good king), may legitimately yield to a pure love that will benefit the kingdom; or the justification for a queen or great lady who loves a man beneath her station but who does so discreetly, and preferably platonically. The second of these interpretations helps to explain the frequent use of the Endymion story at royal wedding celebrations. In the hands of skeptics, however, the myth could serve not to rehabilitate but to discredit the teachings of pagan religion: if even the goddess who represents chastity can engage in a love affair, and with a mortal of low degree, what does this say about the gods’ moral standards? The direct source for Françoise Pascal’s play, and arguably the best-known version of the story in seventeenth-century France, was the novel, also entitled Endymion, by Jean Ogier de Gombauld, first published in 1624 and reissued in 1626 but probably composed in 1613.5 Gombauld, an acclaimed poet who would later be elected to the French Academy, is believed to have selected the Endymion myth as a veil to present his own unhappy love for the queen mother, Maria de’ Medici. Maria first saw the young Gombauld at the coronation ceremony for her son, King Louis XIII, and developed a fondness for him, owing to his physical resemblance to a man whom she had loved while living in her native Florence. Too timid and inexperienced to respond to her advances, Gombauld kept aloof. But when several years later he fell in love with her, it was too late. Maria had lost her tender feelings for him, though she continued to keep him as part of her entourage until she went into exile in 1617. Gombauld’s novel focuses on the frustrations of Endymion, a chaste lover, devoted to the point of self-sacrifice, who is victimized by a capricious but all-powerful goddess and who eventually wonders whether the brief period of contentment when he believed that he enjoyed Diana’s favor was nothing more than a dream. At the same time, Gombauld was determined to make his mark as a serious, well-educated writer, so he borrowed a number of basic conventions from epics and heroic novels: presenting much of the story as a first-person narrative by the protagonist, and including voyages to distant lands, a descent to the underworld, intercalated stories, and frequent interventions by the gods. Pascal followed the outline of Gombauld’s novel quite faithfully, though her modifications of its beginning and ending fundamentally change the overall meaning. The novel begins with a lunar eclipse during which the Carians, following their tradition, ascend Mount Latmos where they cry out and bang on their bronze instruments in an effort to call the moon back into the sky. When the moon reappears, the participants disperse, except for Pizandre, who stays to 5. The only full-length study of this author remains Lydie Morel, Jean Ogier de Gombauld, sa vie, son œuvre (Neuchâtel: Delachaux and Niestlé, 1910).

Endymion 25 admire the beauty of the sky. Suddenly he hears a voice lamenting and recognizes it as that of his best friend Endymion, who had disappeared several months earlier; the sleeper has been roused by the din of the eclipse ritual. Pizandre persuades Endymion to relate his adventures, and this narrative occupies nearly all of the rest of the book. While Endymion firmly believes that everything he has experienced really happened and cannot imagine how he suddenly finds himself back in his native land, Pizandre thinks that Endymion has never left Mount Latmos and that all of his adventures occurred only in a dream. The friend notes that Endymion has no recollection of waking up after drinking Ismene’s magic potion and suggests that the knife of Morpheus (the god of dreams) with which he stabbed himself merely plunged him into a yet deeper state of slumber. Pizandre finally convinces Endymion to come down from the mountain and to resume his prior normal life, but without forgetting the precious astronomical knowledge that he has acquired. In the play, Pizandre is eliminated, the episodes in the narrative are dramatized, and Endymion is awakened from his magically induced dream by Diana’s arrival in the closing moments. Pascal’s alterations to the conclusion of Endymion’s adventures are equally profound. In Gombauld’s novel, the high priest hands Endymion the dagger and tells him that it is the custom for the victims to stab themselves. The hero does so, faints, and wakes up on the bank of the Styx, where the boatman Charon, recognizing that he is still alive, refuses to ferry him across. Several hours later he encounters Sthenoboea, who relates her own adventures. She, however, is really dead: after she had fainted, her attendants laid her on the grass behind the altar, but Diana, displeased at her priestess’s love for Endymion, sent a poisonous serpent to bite her. After she is rowed across the Styx, Endymion wanders aimlessly in the nether regions until he again loses consciousness. He wakes up on Mount Latmos, without knowing how he got there. If one accepts the viewpoint of Pizandre, as the reader is clearly encouraged to do in Gombauld’s novel, nearly everything in the protagonist’s story must be discounted. Diana speaks to Endymion only once, never indicates that she feels anything for him except gratitude for his religious devotion, and plays no part in his subsequent adventures. Everything that occurs following his drinking of the magic potion is a dream. In Pascal’s play, however, Diana really does love Endymion, organizes all the trials to determine whether he is worthy to become her consort, observes his adventures, and finally descends to earth to prevent him from killing himself and to whisk him off with her into the skies. To be sure, the adventures all take place within a dream, but that dream is merely Diana’s method for controlling the entire enterprise and for preventing any real harm from coming to Endymion. The happy ending rewards not only the hero, who has displayed the requisite courage, devotion, and fidelity, but also the goddess, who has succeeded in carving out a realm in which a female divinity reigns supreme.

26 FRANÇOISE PASCAL It is unlikely that Pascal was familiar with any of the previous dramatic versions of the Endymion myth. The earliest such work, John Lyly’s Endymion, or the Man in the Moon (1591, performed 1588), combines moral allegory (the contrast between spiritual and earthly forms of love) and political allegory, the precise meaning of which is still a matter of debate, though the moon goddess must represent Queen Elizabeth I. The plots of the two plays have virtually nothing in common, apart from the fact that both feature a second woman of lower rank who is also in love with Endymion. In any case, there is no evidence that Pascal could read English. Pascal would have found nothing to inspire her in the pastoral tragicomedy Diane et Endymion by La Morelle (1627). In this poorly constructed and confusing work, the title characters do not appear until act 4 and then are treated farcically: Endymion quickly falls in love with a mortal woman, Roselle; Diana and Roselle fight a duel over him, while Endymion fights with Roselle’s lover; finally, Cupid intervenes to humiliate Diana and reunite the original couples. Due to the spectacular nature of the myth, it became a frequent subject for operas and ballet treatments. The only such work in France prior to 1657 was the court ballet entitled Ballet de la Nuit (1653), with the subject designed by Clément, the steward of the Duke de Nemours, and with verses composed by Pascal’s friend Benserade. Although Pascal was not living in Paris at the time, it is conceivable that she could have heard reports of it. This loosely organized series of vignettes mixing dance with dialogue treats the Endymion story briefly at the start of part 3. The passage, directly inspired by Gombauld’s novel, adds only one new element: in keeping with the allegory of court productions, the moon goddess, when she reveals that she has fallen in love for the first time, predicts that the fourteen-year-old Louis XIV will soon follow her example. It is far less likely that Pascal would have heard of the opera La Calisto by Giovanni Faustini, with music by Francesco Cavalli (premiered in Venice in 1651), which includes Endymion among the characters. Given the lukewarm reception accorded to Italian opera, which Cardinal Mazarin introduced to the French court in the 1640s, it is unlikely that anyone in France would have tried to keep abreast of musical developments on the other side of the Alps. In Faustini’s libretto, Endymion, though a sincere and devoted lover, is a weakling who is repeatedly victimized by other deities: Jove (disguised as Diana in order to seduce Calisto, one of her nymphs) rebuffs him, while Pan (who actively pursues Diana but is spurned by her) ties up the youth and threatens to beat him. Although Diana genuinely loves Endymion, she cannot admit it in front of her fellow gods and must claim only that she esteems his virtue. Finally, she resolves to transport him from Arcadia to the top of Mount Latmos, where they will be able to meet with more privacy and exchange chaste kisses. Pascal’s version of the myth is especially innovative in two ways. Unlike previous writers, she presents the story from both a feminist and a Christian

Endymion 27 perspective. Given that Pascal had chosen a novel about early Christian martyrs as the subject for her first play and that she would devote the latter part of her literary career to the composition of religious poetry, it should not come as a surprise that she reinterpreted the myth in a Christian light. Indeed, one wonders whether she would ever have touched a mythological subject at all had she not felt it possible to invest the pagan material with a religious content more suited to her personal beliefs. In her hands, Endymion becomes a model for devout Catholics with mystical tendencies who devote themselves to meditation and prayer, Diana represents heavenly perfection, the hero’s adventures become divinely imposed trials or initiation rites, and the ending becomes the union with God in eternal life. Endymion’s ascent into heaven in a chariot could be linked either to the story of Elijah in the Old Testament or to the Catholic doctrine of the assumption of the Virgin Mary. The references to religion, most of which are not found in Gombauld’s novel, are numerous and form a semantic web that helps to unify the play. As act 1 begins, Endymion emerges from the temple where he has just worshiped Diana as a goddess. His very first speech reveals his intention to avoid revealing his passion to her, determined to preserve the platonic purity of his love and fearful of angering the goddess associated with chastity. His first poetic monologue is a prayer addressed to all the gods, imploring them to let him properly understand a prophecy that appears to cast their justice and their power in doubt. In his first interview with Diana, he stifles his physical desires, restricting himself to the wish to be always near her. He is a perfectly respectful lover, according to the conventions of seventeenth-century galanterie, but he also constantly bears in mind the fact that she is divine whereas he is mortal. His song, which contrasts the beauties of heavenly creatures with those of mortal women, is sufficiently ambiguous that it could apply either to mystical rapture or to amorous passion. Ismene’s speech to Endymion as they are traveling in her chariot combines scientific elements (geographical and astronomical information) with expressions that suggest a religious attitude. After ridding himself of the monsters in the enchanted forest, Endymion feels so inspired by the sacredness of the place that he begins to pray, only to be interrupted by other strange phenomena. His eagerness to embrace martyrdom is first shown when he believes that the arrows that Diana has shot at him have blinded him and will kill him: instead of complaining, he joyfully prepares to suffer all manner of torments in order to prove his devotion, and he uses language that recalls baroque religious poetry. In his next lyrical monologue, Endymion displays an understandable alternation between the joy of beholding the goddess and the desire to justify himself, as he wonders whether he has truly deserved to suffer so many trials. In his subsequent monologues he again expresses his doubts and confusion, while insisting that he has done nothing

28 FRANÇOISE PASCAL wrong, but he shows a calm resignation in the face of his impending execution, as well as peace of mind due to the purity of his intentions. In the last act, Endymion behaves like an exemplary Christian martyr: he expresses his joy in dying for the deity whom he loves and he criticizes the Albanians for weeping over his fate. He is even prepared to stab himself if the priest lacks the courage to carry out the killing. Having embraced the obligation of suffering and displaying absolute submission, he has difficulty realizing that his torments have ended and that he is now about to receive his reward. He protests until the end that the reward is too great and insists that he has done nothing to deserve the divine honors bestowed upon him. The ascent into heaven in Diana’s chariot, following Endymion’s near-suicide, marks the end of his earthly life and his entry into eternal life (though in a profane sense it could symbolize the physical consummation of their union). Ismene’s final comments refer on the literal level to the magical dreams induced by her potion, but they could equally well suggest the popular baroque idea that all of human life is a dream and that true happiness, or indeed genuine reality, is reserved for the hereafter. The other innovative aspect of Françoise Pascal’s retelling of the myth is the introduction of what I consider a feminist perspective. Diana appears to be the sole goddess worshiped by the Carians and the Albanians. If other deities are mentioned in the play (Apollo, Cupid, Morpheus), they are friends whose power seems to be subordinate to hers and who are constantly willing to assist or please her. She has no constraints on her activities or her desires, apart from the fact that, in her role as moon goddess, she must spread her light throughout the globe every night. In other words, this is a universe where a woman reigns supreme and males have no real power. In fact, genuine power is restricted to three female characters: Diana the goddess, Ismene the supremely powerful enchantress, and Parthenope the prophetess. In this play, Diana is not merely a divinity; she is also a symbol for queens or independent women in general. As an active member of the salon culture of midseventeenth-century France, Pascal was familiar with the debates about women’s lack of legal rights, especially in regard to marriage. Diana, free of parental and social control, has full ability to choose her own husband and to set the rules of the relationship—something that would have seemed utopian in real life. She insists on testing her beloved’s character before making a commitment, with the traits she especially values being courage, obedience, fidelity (despite the variety of temptations), and acceptance of the woman’s domination, even after marriage. Diana is willing to grant Endymion a certain amount of encouragement along the way, but she is determined to push the testing to the extreme limit of forcing him to embrace death for her sake. To be sure, having a heroine impose trials on a hero was far from new; it was a standard convention in novels of chivalry going back to the Middle Ages. The

Endymion 29 main innovative feature is the setting in which the adventures unfold: instead of taking place in the characters’ “real” world, they occur in a prolonged and prearranged magical dream. Diana and Ismene direct the entire action in a kind of virtual reality, which they recognize as such even as Endymion believes that everything that happens to him is real. Pascal hints at the baroque fascination with the technique of the play-within-a-play, though she uses it only indirectly (we assume that Diana and Ismene are observing all the events, unseen by the other characters, but they themselves are not seen by the audience). Ismene transports the hero into an unknown region with bizarre customs, and although he recognizes one of the inhabitants (Sthenoboea), he remains constantly alienated and perplexed. It is thus a universe where the man believes he has the power to act, but where instead he is imprisoned and manipulated by the laws of a game directed by powerful women. The advantage of virtual reality is that violence and death can remain in the realm of the imagination, instead of really happening. One has the impression that Pascal would probably have preferred to relegate the normal type of male heroism, namely, self-affirmation through combat or aggression, strictly to the world of imagination. In addition, male heroism undergoes important modifications in this feminocentric world.6 In other plays where the young hero must be tested to prove that he deserves the love of a goddess, he is required to engage in a dangerous combat, often against a monster, and he must remain faithful to his beloved, even when his rival is a menacing god. However, in Pascal’s play no combat ever takes place. The hero does indeed confront a series of monsters, but they magically disappear as soon as he shows that he does not fear them. The majority of the trials that Endymion must undergo are psychological in nature, which in part explains the great number of soliloquies. The virtues demanded of him are those commonly demanded of female protagonists, namely, fidelity, patience, chastity, and absolute submission. It would be inaccurate to conclude that Pascal feminizes her hero, but she insists, far more than other dramatists of the period, on the need for self-restraint. Endymion does not have the right to complain too openly about the injustice of the gods or the apparent caprices of Diana; he must not display impatience, jealousy, or pride at having won the heart of a goddess. The heroes in the machine plays of Gabriel Gilbert and Jean Donneau de Visé, on the other hand, exhibit great pride, sometimes going to the point of insolence, and Adonis (in the latter’s Les Amours de Vénus et d’Adonis, 1670) dares to express his jealousy in front of Venus. Here we are at a transitional moment in French literature between the presentation of dominating heroes and submissive heroes, between the protagonists of the great tragedies

6. I have treated this question more fully in “Les Jeunes premiers de Françoise Pascal: Un héroïsme de la passivité,” Œuvres et critiques 35, no. 1 (2010): 125–34.

30 FRANÇOISE PASCAL of Pierre Corneille and those in the tragedies from the next generation (notably those of his younger brother Thomas, Philippe Quinault, and even Jean Racine). That Pascal’s treatment of the Endymion myth was a genuine innovation becomes even more apparent when her play is compared with Gilbert’s Les Amours de Diane et d’Endimion, published the same year as Endymion (1657) and premiered either in December 1656 or January 1657 at the Hôtel de Bourgogne.7 In Gilbert’s version, the goddess is constantly frustrated by her total lack of power. Her villainous brother, Apollo, persecutes her with his unrequited love, and he makes direct threats to his human rival, who refuses to be cowed. Pressured by Apollo, Jupiter and the council of gods decree that Diana must marry her brother at once and they banish Endymion. But Apollo, not content with imposing a permanent separation upon the lovers, murders Endymion. Diana, heartbroken and furious at the behavior of her fellow gods, resolves to abandon Olympus forever and to spend her time in the underworld, where she will at least be able to gaze on her dead beloved. Not only are the gods presented as tyrannical, heartless, and immoral, they also deliberately mistreat a female, even though she is one of them. Their actions are indeed scandalous: Apollo shoots his defenseless rival in the back and is never reprimanded, despite the fact that he has interfered with Jupiter’s decree; Jupiter chooses a mate for Diana without consulting her and at a meeting to which she is not even invited. In Gilbert’s dark vision, the only way for a woman to break free from male tyranny is to die (technically, Olympians cannot die, but moving to Hades is the closest equivalent). Moreover, Gilbert makes no attempt to read Christian values and beliefs into the myth. If anything, his play constitutes a denunciation of Greco-Roman paganism. In a remarkably subversive passage, his Endymion repeats all the standard charges made by the skeptics of antiquity: the gods have no real power; they are guilty of a host of abominable crimes; originally they were merely human heroes or kings who were converted into deities through the credulity of the common people. Endymion even declares to his divine rival that human heroes, who surpass the Olympians both in courage and in virtue, will eventually supplant them.

Pascal and the Machine Play Endymion is a representative of a type of seventeenth-century play that has fallen into total neglect and has only recently come to attract scholarly interest.8 As 7. My translation of Gilbert’s play, along with the French text of the revised version from 1681, a performing edition of the incidental music composed by Marc-Antoine Charpentier for that production, and other information about the work, may be found at a website maintained by musicologist John S. Powell: Music and Theatre in 17th-Century France, at http://www.personal.utulsa.edu/~john-powell/theater/. 8. See Christian Delmas, Mythologie et mythe dans le théâtre français (1650–1676) (Geneva: Droz, 1985); Hélène Visentin and Jean-Vincent Blanchard, eds., L’Invraisemblance du pouvoir: Mises en scène

Endymion 31 the French came to discover the remarkable Italian breakthroughs in stagecraft, especially in the techniques for producing a variety of breathtaking special effects (instantaneous scene changes, flying machines, metamorphoses, monsters, violent natural phenomena such as earthquakes and floods, etc.), a handful of playwrights composed works designed to showcase these innovations. Such plays typically took their subjects from classical mythology, since the presence of gods and supernatural events would justify the use of the machines; indeed, the mythological setting would render them aesthetically believable according to the theoretical precepts of the era. However, it was Cardinal Mazarin’s introduction of Italian opera to the French court in the 1640s that led to the subgenre’s sudden favor. As noted earlier, French audiences did not share Mazarin’s enthusiasm for that recently invented art form: they did not appreciate the Italian baroque style of music, they objected to the use of castrati for the principal male roles, and they were thoroughly puzzled by the practice of inserting intermezzi (episodes of song and/or dance unrelated to the opera’s plot) between the acts, making it even harder to follow a work sung in a foreign language. On the other hand, they loved the special effects, which were all the more exciting in that French drama was moving in the direction of extreme simplicity of staging, owing to the adoption of the unity of place. Mazarin, giving up on the idea of creating operas in French, commissioned Pierre Corneille to write a semioperatic tragedy in which the text would be spoken, apart from a handful of brief sung passages, and which would have a mythological subject in order to justify the extensive use of special effects. The result, Andromède (1650), was a huge success at court, and the Parisian troupes, one by one, would invest in the elaborate machinery needed to mount such lavish productions. During the third quarter of the century, a considerable number of “machine plays” were written, and some of them achieved popular success comparable to, or even greater than, that of Andromède. Many of the leading playwrights of that generation tried their hand at machine plays, including Molière, Thomas Corneille, Philippe Quinault, Gabriel Gilbert, Claude Boyer, and Jean Donneau de Visé. Françoise Pascal was the sole woman author to join this group. Most of the machine plays were labeled as tragedies; only a small minority were classified as tragicomedies (like Endymion) or as comedies. Nevertheless, the triumph of machine plays lasted only a short time. As French popular taste evolved and fully sung dramatic works came to be accepted, the sung dramas competed with the machine plays and surpassed them in de la souveraineté au XVIIe siècle (Fasano: Schena; Paris: Presses de l’Université de Paris-Sorbonne, 2005). See also Gethner, “The Meeting of Gods and Heroes in the Tragédies à machines,” Papers on French Seventeenth Century Literature 21 (1984): 623–32; “Staging and Spectacle in the Machine Tragedies,” in L’Age du théâtre en France/The Age of Theatre in France, ed. David Trott and Nicole Boursier (Edmonton: Academic Printing and Publishing, 1988), 231–46; “On the Use of Music and Dance in the Machine Tragedies,” Papers on French Seventeenth Century Literature 29 (1988): 463–76; “The Staging of the Sinister in Machine Plays,” Cahiers du dix-septième 6, no. 2 (1992): 101–9.

32 FRANÇOISE PASCAL achieving a harmonious integration of spectacle, drama, music, and dance. The pivotal figure in the creation of a native French operatic tradition was the brilliant but ruthless and dictatorial composer and impresario, Jean-Baptiste Lully. He secured a royal monopoly for his opera company, officially known as the Académie Royale de Musique, and persuaded the king to issue decrees that made it almost impossible for the speaking troupes to continue to perform hybrid plays. By the end of the century, only a handful of these works remained in the repertory, and there was a consensus that tragic opera, or tragédie-lyrique, following the model pioneered by Lully and his chief librettist Quinault, had subsumed machine tragedies and made them superfluous. In 1657, the year when Pascal’s Endymion was published, the aesthetic of machine plays was still in a state of flux. While all hybrid plays required some orchestral music, at the very least to mask the noise made by the machines, the use of song and dance was considered optional, and when these elements were featured, they were typically performed by specially engaged professionals, rather than by regular members of the troupe. There was likewise no agreement about which types of special effects were most appropriate and how many of them could be successfully incorporated into a given play, though in many cases these matters ultimately depended on what the troupe could afford or which existing machines could be reused. Pascal, who probably had never seen a machine play performed before composing one of her own, used special effects sparingly and was careful to make them absolutely indispensable to the plot. She introduced only two flying machines (the chariots of Ismene and Diana; since these do not appear simultaneously, one machine could have served for both) and a group of monsters that vanish after a few moments. Ismene’s disappearances could have simply featured a trap door, while the vanishing of the large group of Albanians near the end of act 5 could presumably have been achieved by drawing a curtain (stage curtains were introduced in France during the middle decades of the seventeenth century). Two metamorphoses are described, but neither one is accomplished in view of the audience. There are only two sung passages (though the second features at least four soloists plus chorus) and no dancing. It is not clear why Pascal chose to compose a machine play, especially since during the 1650s performances of such works were apparently limited to the capital. Perhaps the local troupe under the sponsorship of Villeroy specially acquired or already possessed enough machinery to be able to commission a machine play from a local author. Molière, based primarily in Lyon for much of the 1650s and who in all likelihood knew Pascal, had Andromède in his repertoire, so it is conceivable that his troupe owned some stage machinery. But it is also possible that Pascal was commissioned by the Marais troupe in Paris to write an Endymion play to compete with Gilbert’s. Although the publication of the two plays in the same year may have been simply a coincidence, it was a frequent practice

Endymion 33 throughout the century for rival troupes to stage competing plays on the same subject. Thus, despite the absence of any evidence that the Marais commissioned or performed Pascal’s play, it would have been logical for them to do so. After all, during the 1650s the Marais had come to specialize in machine plays, and it would take a while for their rivals at the Hôtel de Bourgogne to decide to compete with them in this new subgenre. Gilbert’s play was one of the Hôtel’s first tries, and the sober use of special effects suggests that the troupe had not yet acquired much of the required machinery. Four deities have flying chariots (though only two are present simultaneously); there are no spectacular combats or disappearances; there is only a small amount of singing (two soloists and a children’s chorus) and no dancing. However, if we accept the hypothesis that Pascal wrote her machine play for the Marais, how can we explain the lack of evidence to suggest that they staged it? The most plausible reason is that they did not need Pascal’s play after all because Thomas Corneille’s spoken tragedy Timocrate, which they premiered in November or December of 1656, turned out to be the biggest hit of the century, with an initial run of almost six months, and this quickly eclipsed the success of Gilbert’s machine play. It is also possible that the Marais troupe, some of whose members left Paris in April of 1657 and toured the provinces for two years, could have stopped in Lyon, made contact with Pascal, commissioned her to compose an Endymion play, performed it during the tour, but decided not to keep it in the repertory once they returned to the capital. Alternatively, the actors of the Marais could have commissioned Pascal’s play but were dissatisfied with it and chose not to perform it. In the absence of documentation, all of this remains a matter of conjecture. While it is by no means impossible that Endymion was staged in Lyon in the 1650s, there is simply no proof. One thing is certain: it was not staged in Paris, since a production there would have constituted a great honor for a writer from the provinces who had not visited the capital, and Pascal would certainly have mentioned it in her preface.

Pascal and French Classical Theory For machine plays, the dramaturgical rules were bent to a considerable degree. Most importantly, the principle of verisimilitude, or believability, had to be interpreted loosely, since the plots of machine plays are filled with supernatural characters and events. However, given the fact that Greek serious drama began as stagings of traditional myths, theorists granted mythology the same legitimacy as history: the myths were to be considered true for theatrical purposes, even though no one believed in the pagan gods any longer. Moreover, once one accepts that gods and magicians genuinely possess extraordinary powers, impossible actions are deemed credible, provided that they correspond to the types of miraculous

34 FRANÇOISE PASCAL events found in the myths. Pascal added a further dimension to the believability of her plot by placing nearly all the supernatural occurrences within a magically induced dream. Pascal’s use of the three unities, though technically within the prescribed limits, was extremely creative. The unity of time is observed by condensing into one day a series of actions that in Gombauld’s novel last over a month. Pascal further exploits the symbolism of the reduced time frame: since Diana, as goddess of the moon, is visible on earth only in the nighttime, her three appearances occur just after sunset (act 1), in the middle of the night (act 2) and the following day at sunset (act 5). Endymion’s arrest happens to coincide with the day ordained for the festival in honor of Diana (which is not the case in the novel), and since the goddess is expected to be present to witness it, the rite occurs at dusk. The unity of place, which in its strict form meant a ban on all scene changes, was altered for machine plays. In order to show off the stage machinery (the scene changes were accomplished in view of the audience), it was customary to use a different setting for each act. Theoretically, this modification of the rule was justified on the principle that in machine plays the gods and magicians who are in control of events have the power to transform one place into another, even if that transformation is an illusion. Paradoxical as it may sound, Pascal’s play does in fact observe the unity of place: Endymion never physically leaves Mount Latmos until he is awakened by Diana at the end of the play and is whisked off in her chariot. In his dream, however, he is transported from Asia Minor to an unnamed city in Albania, where we see four different places that are consecrated to Diana and are located in close proximity to one another: the enchanted wood (act 2), the exterior of Thymoetes’s palace, which is presumably connected to a shrine devoted to the goddess (act 3), the interior of that palace (act 4), and a forested hill top with an altar to the goddess (act 5). Pascal does not specify the location of the temple of Diana that Endymion visits just prior to the start of act 1, and she never states that the mountain where the hero falls asleep is Mount Latmos, where he does his sleeping in the ancient sources. (Gombauld’s novel specifies that the temple is the one at Ephesus, the most famous of those consecrated to Diana. That city is situated on the east coast of Asia Minor, though not contiguous to Mount Latmos, and it is indeed on that mountain that he falls asleep and later wakes up.) Pascal further cheats with geography when she indicates at the end of the cast list that the action takes place in Albania. That would suggest that the temple and the mountain shown in act 1 are in that country (located in Europe to the northwest of Greece). But situating Endymion in Albania at the start of the play would be illogical, since he never states that he has left his native land and there would be no reason for him to do so. Moreover, it would be pointless for Ismene to make him travel over various provinces in Asia Minor if he is both starting and finishing his journey in Albania. The most logical explanation is that Endymion remains

Endymion 35 physically in Asia Minor throughout the play but that the adventures within the dream occur in Albania. The unity of action, requiring that every character and episode be indispensable to the resolution of the main plot, banning loosely connected subplots, and clearly indicating what happens at the end to all the main characters, is observed, though not as tightly as the theorists of the time would have preferred. Although we never find out what happens to Sthenoboea after she faints in act 5, or to the Albanians when they disappear, the reappearance of the sorceress Ismene suggests that they fall into a magically induced sleep now that they are no longer needed for Diana’s testing of Endymion. They will presumably wake without having experienced any harm. The tragic love story of Hermodan and Diophane appears at first reading to be a useless digression. However, that episode is firmly linked to the main plot in that Endymion’s arrest and condemnation to death for cutting off a branch of the myrtle tree is another one of the trials to which Diana subjects him in order to gauge whether he is worthy of her love. It is also linked to the main plot on the level of symbolism: the love between Hermodan and Diophane, frustrated in life, can only be realized in death, through the metamorphosis of the lovers into adjacent and touching trees, which also confers a semidivine status on them. Similarly, the love between Endymion and Diana can be consummated only in another realm, where the mortal achieves a form of immortality. The play does, however, leave a number of unanswered questions. Besides those already mentioned, we are never told why Hermodan is lurking around the enchanted forest in act 2 (since he does not yet know the fate of his beloved Diophane he would presumably feel no special connection to that place), or why the slave, who is devoted to him and must realize that he is bent on suicide, leaves him alone at the crucial moment. Likewise, we never learn why Sthenoboea needs the branch from the myrtle tree or why she requires the assistance of a man to cut it off, especially since she feels herself obliged to give her heart to the one who obeys her. If the cut branch is needed for a ritual purpose, why does the high priest consider the act a sacrilege? And if Sthenoboea has received an order from the goddess to justify the cutting, why does she not inform her uncle of it? (In Gombauld’s novel, this episode is not very clear either. Sthenoboea, when she meets Endymion in the underworld, tells him that someone else, probably a deity, had assumed her form in order to cause his arrest, so she is not responsible for what has happened to him.) Pascal was careful not to offend the sensibilities of her contemporaries in her observance of the principle of decorum. Despite the erotic element in the myth, Endymion and Diana never express a desire for physical union, nor do they ever so much as touch (on-stage kissing, frequent in plays of the previous generation, had been banned by purists). Diana’s divine status is given precedence over

36 FRANÇOISE PASCAL her womanhood, and Endymion is too respectful to make any claims upon his beloved. All the deities, even Cupid, behave honorably, and any lingering doubts about the gods’ justice and power are dispelled at the end. The odious practice of human sacrifice exists, but it is authorized by orders from the goddess and confirmed by her oracle. Significantly, the Albanians, including the high priest, are uncomfortable with it; they even weep over the fate of the victim. At the last minute, Diana prevents the sacrifice from being carried out and carries off the victim, recalling her rescue of Iphigenia in some versions of that myth. Pascal has done her best to make her Diana a worthy female version of the Christian God and to avoid bringing discredit upon organized religion, whether ancient or modern.

ENDYMION TRAGICOMEDY CHARACTERS ENDYMION POLYDAMON DIANA CHORUS OF NYMPHS 9 ISMENE PARTHENOPE THYMOETES STHENOBOEA HERMODAN DIOPHANE PYRIDOR ADMON CHORUS OF ALBANIAN CHORUS OF MAIDENS 11 A SLAVE CLINDOR

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in love with Diana Endymion’s friend goddess magician elderly prophetess high priest priestess in the service of Diana and niece of Thymoetes shepherd in love with Diophane metamorphosed into a myrtle tree ministers of Thymoetes PEOPLE 10

The setting is in Albania.12

9. There are only three nymphs of Diana who have solo parts, but Pascal might have envisaged a largescale production with a large group of singers. 10. This chorus, which has a singing role in act 5 but no speaking role, may well be identical to the troupe of men with speaking roles in act 2. 11. In fact, there are only two maidens, Alcyone and Felicia. Perhaps the term “chorus” was used to indicate that these characters sing as well as speak. 12. Machine tragedies and tragicomedies typically began with a prologue glorifying the king with elaborate allegory. The absence of a prologue suggests either that Pascal was too timid to address the king directly or else that it was deemed unnecessary to write one, since the play was never staged in Paris.

37

38 FRANÇOISE PASCAL TO MILADY MADEMOISELLE DE VILLEROY 13 MILADY, Although Endymion places the beauty of all mortal women below that of Diana, he does not do the same with you, whether he believes you to be either mortal or divine, and given that he has heard the same report of your perfections that he makes of those of this goddess.14 For if he considers her as the most beautiful star in the sky, he also knows that you are one of the most beautiful stars of the court, and all the adoration and prayers that he gives to her do not prevent him from having for you the admiration that a sizable percentage of humans already have, or from acknowledging that Nature formed something heavenly in you, since she spared nothing in making you worthy of consideration through your illustrious and high birth, and similarly she showed herself lavish in bestowing all her graces upon your person, making you a miracle of our sex. It is for that reason, milady, that Endymion has sought out the honor of informing you of his adventures; if they are fortunate enough to find some small place in your esteem, he will be able to say that the glory of being loved by a goddess is not more advantageous to him, since you allow him to see the sunlight; he will further be able to say that he owes more to you than to that goddess, who made him sleep perpetually. Finally, milady, this is a favor that I frankly did not dare to hope for, because you are a marvel both in body and in mind, from which you can produce countless beautiful things. I do not know whether I have undertaken something too difficult by going to expose this small work to your sight, and in a court where people are imbued with knowledge of all kinds; however, I await the outcome of it with the permission to bear the title,

MILADY, Of your most humble and most obedient servant, FRANÇOISE PASCAL.

13. Nicolas de Neufville, Marquis and later Duke de Villeroy (1598–1685), became governor of the Lyonnais province in 1615. According to the “Clef historique et anecdotique” appended by Ch.-L. Livet to his edition of Antoine Baudeau de Somaize’s Dictionnaire des Précieuses, 2 vols. (Paris: P. Jannet, 1856), Pascal was a retainer in his household, which presumably meant that she was a governess or tutor to his daughters (2:322). According to Antoine Péricaud, this dedication was addressed to the older of the duke’s two daughters, Françoise, who lived until 1701 (Notes et documents pour servir à l’histoire de Lyon, 13 vols. [Lyon: Pélagaud, Lesné et Crozet and Mougin-Rusand; Roanne: Ferlay, 1838–60], 10:79). 14. One of the standard conventions for dedicatory epistles was to imagine that the protagonist of the play has stepped out of his or her own era and is engaging in a kind of dialogue with the dedicatee.

Endymion 39 NOTICE TO THE READER My dear Reader, since my Agathonphile had acquired just as many critics as skeptics, I do not know what I should expect from Endymion.15 I well know that you will find fewer faults in it than in the first play; but I beg you to believe, however, that no one has meddled with its style, as some people have believed in regard to Agathonphile, although in actual fact those with even a minimal experience with poetry can readily judge that its verses could not have issued from a great talent and that a man is capable of producing something more weighty; and in order that the superiority that this poem may have over the other one may not make you fall into the error associated with the earlier work, the reason [why my new play is superior] is that I have a bit more knowledge than previously, as you will see. Farewell.

15. This preface provides the only information we have about the reception of Pascal’s previous tragicomedy, Agathonphile martyr (1655). Some scholars have speculated that the play was staged by Molière’s troupe, which was based in Lyon in 1655, but this cannot be proved. If the work was not performed, she must be referring to criticism received when it was published. It is interesting to note the progression in the prefaces to Pascal’s three tragicomedies: in the first she uses the false modesty trope to excuse her inadequacy on the grounds of her gender, her lack of literary experience, and her lowly talent, while lavishing fulsome praise on male writers, whom she calls Apollos; in the second preface, the declaration of modesty and of male superiority is more muted; in the third (Sésostris, 1661), she is far more self-assertive, showing contempt for those critics who are ignorant or jealous and claiming to respect the judgment of only the most learned and discerning.

40 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

Act I (At the far back of the stage appears the facade of Diana’s temple. On one side there are several thick trees, and on the other a rocky peak of great elevation, with some bushes behind it. Endymion and Polydamon emerge from Diana’s temple.)

5 10 15

ENDYMION In short, Polydamon, if I die for Diana, This love must never be of profane nature: For fear of offending her divine modesty, I’m afraid that this flame burns a bit too brightly, That this passion will become manifest unless One day my pining becomes more discreet. Yes, dear Polydamon, at the sight of her I tremble with love and respect as I adore her. It’s true that this fair goddess does indeed Know my intention, though she wounds my heart. Her eyes, where modesty makes its fairest dwelling, Inspire in me respect as well as love. But though my eyes do not have the advantage To admire her heavenly face from closer up, She still knows that my eyes don’t get distracted From contemplating such rare charms from afar. She will soon come here to tell me herself The esteem she feels for my extreme devotion.16

20 25

POLYDAMON Fortunate Endymion, how did you get so lucky? Was ever a mortal seen to receive such honor To be esteemed by a celestial beauty, A heavenly miracle? I myself imagine That people adore you everywhere for good reason, Since you’re seen to be valued even by the gods. We see upon your body such rare marvels That they can touch the hearts of the most unfeeling. Countless young lovely girls, just hearing your name, Go around sighing for you.

16. Diana has indeed made an appointment with Endymion, as she will confirm later (l. 122). Presumably this message was communicated to him by a voice he heard while praying in her temple, although the point is never clarified.

Endymion 41

30

ENDYMION Stop, Polydamon, Stop flattering me … But who’s this coming here? (Enter Parthenope.)17 This woman is approaching me. POLYDAMON Who could she be?





ENDYMION How extremely old she is!

POLYDAMON She’s close to death.



ENDYMION She has no more vigor and could not move fast.



Endymion, come here.

Yet she can’t see you.



35

PARTHENOPE

POLYDAMON Great gods! She calls you,

ENDYMION O heavens, what does she want?

PARTHENOPE Approach, fear nothing.

ENDYMION Let’s approach regardless. Let’s listen to the words of this weak voice.



PARTHENOPE Approach, my son, I wish to tell you things That you don’t know.

17. Parthenope, whose identity is revealed only in the cast list, is described in the novel as a hundredyear-old prophetess, daughter of Apollo and Evadne, who is revered throughout the region.

42 FRANÇOISE PASCAL



40 45 50 55



ENDYMION All right, I wish to learn them.

PARTHENOPE You’ll see yourself most highly favored By the great star that charms your heart, The one who has triumphed over it And who receives your offerings. But at last, since you’ve put too much trust In this brief period of delight, The gods, whose mood is changeable, Will show you just the opposite, Having made use of your weaknesses. A god who’s a master of deceit Will show you things that you can’t fathom, In order to oblige your goddess. This god, once he has closed your eyes, Will make you travel to many places, Displaying to you empty things That will beguile your mind and reason. But finally, don’t be surprised, For my words will surely come to pass.18 (Exit)

POLYDAMON O gods, she must be mad! How could she know Your name?

ENDYMION Polydamon, let me try to fathom A bit of what she said, for I, unlike you, 60 Find these words far from common, though obscure, But in short I’m going to try to analyze it.



POLYDAMON Farewell then, dear friend; I’ll let you meditate.

18. All of this will become clear at the conclusion of the play. The star is, of course, Diana; the favor is the revelation of her love for him; the gods are changeable in that they represent the cycles of nature (but not in a moral sense, as Endymion thinks, although at times it will indeed appear that Diana is persecuting him); his weakness will be mental, induced by the magic potion supplied by the sorceress Ismene; the deceiving god is Morpheus, who produces the dream state that will envelop the hero in acts 2 through 5; the empty things refer to Endymion’s trials, since, unbeknownst to him, they occur within a dream and not in reality.

Endymion 43



ENDYMION Farewell; I’ll see you soon. On what she said I want to meditate an hour.



POLYDAMON So here you’ll stay. (Exit)

ENDYMION (alone) POEM 19 65 O gods, how deep this mystery is, And how incomprehensible! Heavenly ones, you who penetrate Things that to us are invisible, What does that strange speech signify, 70 In which I grasp nothing at all? Give me the means of learning this And guessing its confusing twists. Does she whose mouth has just said wondrous things, Know the secrets of your godly oracles? 75 But let’s keep seeking for this secret; Let’s go over in our memory The statement that she made to us, And which I still cannot believe. She told us that the gods themselves 80 Are just as changeable as men, That even in our earthly world We can see reigning in the heavens, As well as here, abuse and inconstancy, Cheating the hopes of those who revere their power. 85

Could be it true that the immortals Treat our sacrifices with contempt, And scorn what happens on their altars? Are not these claims malicious lies? Talk of this kind is most insulting

19. The convention of inserting strophic poems (referred to as stances) into a play was popular roughly between 1620 and 1660. It then fell out of fashion, largely due to objections from theorists that it violated the principle of verisimilitude. This play features an unusually large number of such poems, at least two of which were intended to be sung (those starting at ll. 187 and 1398). Pascal, who was also an accomplished musician, clearly wanted to emphasize the lyrical dimension of her play.

44 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 90 To you who have profoundest wisdom, Who don’t allow others to share In this mysterious secret lore; And that is why, great gods, I’ve just spoken wrongly Of your divine powers, using this complaint. 95 I might become odious to you By trusting a voice that’s uninspired. Let’s follow our reverent intent, Since that’s pleasing to my Diana. And let’s think no more from now on 100 Of this fanciful prophecy. Let’s put aside this outlandish thought And be the same forever more: Let’s give devotion to this heavenly beauty; My reason wishes it; my mouth proclaims it. 105 110 115

My soul, it’s settled; if you wish, resolve to Continue your duties and offerings to her. We’ll see how it ends; let’s go up on this rock. I see the day ending and the night approaching. My lovely star will gleam, but yet the daylight Seems to me rather slow to lose its brilliance. The Sun is now less dear to me than the Moon; Its brilliant light annoys me without stop. But let’s take care not to offend this miracle Of heaven, Diana’s brother and favorite god. No matter, though; Diana is my goddess, And with night approaching, this fair star is eager To content my sight … But what brilliance, O gods, Comes to light up this place! Who is this beauty?

(Diana appears with her crescent on her head, her quiver behind her back, and her bow in her hand. She begins to speak, seeing Endymion startled.)

120

DIANA Endymion, I am the one whom you revere, Who have come to show you far more than you hope. Look now at the sight that you have wished for, and See that I’m doing far more than I promised. Your prayers are answered; I recall them all.

Endymion 45 125 130 135

I know you take great care to spread my fame, Since you proclaim my greatness everywhere, And through you everyone worships my radiance. But if I showed no gratitude for this, You’d be allowed to tell me to my face That ingrates are seen even in the heavens And you could tax the gods with being unjust. Tell me what you want and have faith that a goddess Can always carry out what she has promised. I believe that surely you will ask for nothing But what I can legitimately grant you. Don’t stand there speechless; you see that I’m rushed, That I am waited for.

ENDYMION (falling on his knees) O charming goddess, The sight of you has so enraptured me That my eyes will never get enough of it. The honor I enjoy surpasses everything; 140 I see just flashing fires, lilies and roses. Goddess, there’s nothing more I can desire, Since never was a pleasure equal to mine. Fair miracle of heaven, what could I hope for After what I’m seeing? I would be foolhardy 145 To ask for more. DIANA You need simply request; You can obtain anything. ENDYMION In the rapture that I’m in now, O incomparable goddess, I would ask of you this happiness I desire: To behold forever the beauties that I see, 150 If you don’t punish me for this rash choice.



DIANA Could you endure for a prolonged duration Something that in one moment has driven you wild? And even if you were placed among the chief gods,

46 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 155

You’d see me in heaven only for half the day. So try to seek some reasonable request.

160 165

ENDYMION I must obey; Diana commands me to. Goddess, you wish to oblige me with your kindness To make a request that I hardly dare to think of, But finally I must summon all my boldness To dare to ask of you some little place Near to the stars that are the closest to you. Or if that divine rank is too special for me, Whether it’s that the fates make opposition to it, Or that it would profane their divine influence, Or because the number of stars has reached its limit And the heavens are filled with the perfect cohort of them, You will at least receive my pious sacrifices, And I’ll be satisfied.20

DIANA Know that your homage Will always please me and that I’ll take care 170 To give you a reward when there is need, In heaven or on earth. Farewell. (She disappears.) ENDYMION (alone) What a marvel! O mortals, have you ever seen her equal? O heavenly beauty, how many divine miracles Have you shown to me that I cannot conceive? 175 My eyes, were you expecting to see such a wonder? Just see what duties Diana places on you: Let’s offer her countless prayers and build altars to her, Since she raises us up above all mortals. My soul, think no more of your past suffering; 180 Don’t you see that it’s rewarded all too highly? Ah, how lovely Diana is! How hard it would be 20. Endymion displays remarkable restraint and timidity. Allowed for the first time to speak to Diana directly, he chooses not to declare his love and asks her for only the most modest favor. He even justifies her in advance should she refuse to grant it.

Endymion 47 185

For my eyes to fix their gaze on other beauties! Let’s go up to this rock to further contemplate Until break of day this star whom I adore. Let’s raise our voice in song; may it resound With the sweetest words that anyone can invent. (He sits down on the rock and sings.) SONG O earthly beauties, hide yourselves As soon as that heavenly fair appears. If by your blows my heart was smitten, 190 Now it feels only hatred for you, And henceforth wishes to pay homage Only to this fair miracle of the skies. 195

I say, with zeal that’s full of passion, That it is from this godly marvel That the three Graces and modesty Derived their lovely origin, And that one ought to pay one’s homage Only to this fair miracle of the skies.

200

Ever since the moment when my eyes First saw this star so full of charms, I go, I run to every land, Paying no heed to any dangers, In order to pay unceasing homage To this fair miracle of the skies.

(He contemplates the Moon and does not see Ismene, who comes looking for him.)

205 210

ISMENE (alone) I seek Endymion to ease his suffering;21 I see the all too clear signs of it in his eyes. He adores Diana and does not realize That he pines away in vain for such fair charms. Handsome Endymion, Diana is too harsh; Vainly do you persevere in loving her.

21. In Gombauld’s novel, it is Endymion who seeks out Ismene, concerned that Diana has not communicated with him again after her initial visit. This alteration reinforces Pascal’s vision of a world where women are in total control of events. The stage direction suggests that Ismene is at the bottom of the hill (“rock”) while Endymion remains at its summit.

48 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 215 220 225

If the all-powerful gods dare not approach her, How could the passion of a mortal touch her? Yet Endymion is the fairest of all men; No mortal here below can equal him. I well know that his qualities are such That the gods surpass him only by their rank. I must ease the torment that is crushing him, So that one day he’ll be able to see his goddess. He wants to hide a pain that’s obvious to me; He restrains his fine passion, though I see it blaze. I want to show him that I’m aware of it And assure him it’s no use to rein in his feelings; I’m aware of his illness; it’s pointless to disguise it; And with my art I can at last relieve it. But don’t I see him contemplate the Moon?22 Let’s go assure him of his gentle fortune. He’s on that high rock, where I always see him Asking for nights, rather than for loveliest days.

230

ENDYMION (seeing Ismene) Isn’t this the peerless Ismene I see coming? It’s she, most surely.

ISMENE Tell me your suffering, Endymion my son; unveil your heart to me. For such a long time I’ve seen you pine away. Can I bring help to the illness that consumes you; Cannot my art bring remedy to you?

235 240

ENDYMION You’re mistaken, Ismene, if you imagine that. You should know that in the state I now am in What I feel in my soul is utter rapture, Since my heart is very close to fainting away And my eyes to closing, having seen the brilliance Of flowers, of fires, of charms, of godly beauties;

22. Although it was common in comedies for a character to soliloquize at length before becoming aware of the presence of another character, that convention was rarely used in serious drama. It is likely that Ismene knows from the start that Endymion is present and overhearing her words; in fact, the purpose of her speech may be to encourage him to speak freely of his passion.

Endymion 49 245

The light from these they can no longer bear, And I believe I’ve lost my earlier strength. Ah, I’ve wished for it, and at last I’ve seen her; She’s granted my request. This fair divine star, Ismene, is Diana.



ISMENE How’s that? So you’ve seen her?



ENDYMION Yes, I’ve seen the charms that Heaven endowed her with.



ISMENE Lucky Endymion, what more can you wish for, After such good fortune?

ENDYMION To always present My respects and prayers, and to finish my life 250 For this rare beauty who has ravished my heart. But still, wise Ismene, you honor of the cosmos, Since your art works so many diverse miracles That you’re known everywhere as the marvel of women And you’re seen to be praised by the finest people, 255 Am I not fortunate to find you here, To beg you again to free me from my cares?



ISMENE And what are your cares? Just tell me what you wish. Know that Ismene and her peers are set to serve you. Be quick and promptly let me hear what ails you.

260 265

ENDYMION Alas! It’s that the gift I’ve just enjoyed Is not long-lasting and happens a bit too rarely. I see this pleasure took a long time to prepare, And if I’ve enjoyed so perfect a pleasure once, Perhaps my future prayers will be less effective. Can’t I again find some favorable spot In order to view this adorable beauty there?

50 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

270 275 280 285 290

ISMENE If your wishes are to merely contemplate her, Believe, dear Endymion, that you can hope For what depends on me and on my knowledge; I intend to give you very prompt relief. Even your modest thoughts are reasonable. When Diana goes forth from the Zodiac, She goes far away into the distant land Where Erigone and Astraea now reside, And on the other side to see Atlas’ daughters; That is where she most often wends her way; She also visits Andromeda, Cepheus, Cassiopeia, Orion, the lands of Morpheus;23 She makes her palace from the Centaur’s lairs; When she desires to seek repose and coolness, It’s the sacred river, where delights abide, That she always chooses after her exertions. But in short, I can observe her through my art; Wherever she is, we’ll be able to find her. But I must know in what shape you request her: Whether it’s as Hecate, or rather you intend To view her as Diana; I agree to the latter, For know that the sight of her as Hecate does no less Than drive everyone mad or transformed into stone, Or else all crushed to bits by lightning stroke.24



ENDYMION Ismene, my wish is to see her exactly As I’ve just seen her on this spot right here.



ISMENE Very well, you’ll see her. Know that with my spells

23. Apart from Morpheus, son of the god of sleep and principal god of dreams, these are all mythological characters who were later metamorphosed into stars or constellations. Erigone and Astraea, who belong to constellation Virgo, have an obvious connection with the goddess of virginity, as does Orion, who was slain by Diana. The daughters of Atlas are the Pleiades. Cepheus and Cassiopeia were the parents of Andromeda, a beautiful princess who was condemned to be devoured by a monster but was rescued by Perseus. Pascal likely knew Pierre Corneille’s dramatization of that story (1650), the most influential of French machine tragedies. 24. Originally there were two goddesses named Hecate, one associated with the moon and the other associated with the underworld. In time both were conflated with Diana, who came to have three distinct appearances: the moon in the sky, a huntress on earth, a monster in Hades.

Endymion 51 295 300 305 310 315

I can overpower even the immortals. Yes, I’ll satisfy your innocent desires, Then make the gods’ resistance powerless. But go off now to your solitary dwelling And don’t ask to have this mystery explained. I can assure you that with the noise of just one sigh You’d ruin the plan to realize your desire, And I even recognize that your impatience Would not leave me in peace for half a day. And I further see, based on your languid eyes, That you must grant repose to your tired senses. (She takes out a flask of water.) Drink, dear Endymion, from this most potent water That I myself drew from the actual fountain Of the great god of sleep, when, within his gardens, He let me view his beds of magical flowers. I saw this sacred water there, and I took care, Knowing how sweet and how precious it was, To ask the god for some; then I was allowed To take some and to give some to my dearest friends. You will learn, my son, what powerful charms it has. Farewell, you’ll lose nothing but the time you wait. (She gives him the flask.) I’ll come to wake you when the moment’s right25 And through my deeds I’ll satisfy your saintly Desires. Now go rest.

ENDYMION How can I repay you After such kindnesses? ISMENE I wish to claim, As reward for my pains, nothing but your affection, 320 And all my passion lies in serving you.



ENDYMION Ismene, you put me endlessly in your debt.

25. This is a carefully planned ambiguity: the audience believes, as does Endymion, that when he reappears at the start of act 2 he is again awake. In fact, the magic potion plunges him into an intense dream-state from which he will be awakened only at the end of the play.

52 FRANÇOISE PASCAL



Rest now, my son.

ISMENE (going away)

ENDYMION (alone) O incomparable woman! What great charms, what great powers are in your art, To give repose to my dejected eyes. 325 But let’s taste this water, so that I can slumber Without being interrupted till Ismene wakes me. (He drinks.) O heavenly sweetness! Ah, delicious taste! O charm that already comes to surprise my sight! O agreeable pleasure, O peerless delight, 330 You give me rest after my lengthy vigils.26 (A wood of thick trees appears, and in front of the others is a myrtle that surpasses them in height and even has some form of a person. When the set is revealed, one sees a chariot flying through the clouds, drawn by two dragons, and Endymion and Ismene are seen inside it.)

Act II 335

ISMENE (in the chariot with Endymion) Observe all these places that you’ve never seen; Behold the beauties with which the skies are filled; Direct your gaze below, marvel at this great world; See also how the earth has a round shape. Just tell me now whether your eyes aren’t dazzled To see from this high place so many different lands. Behold Mount Taurus, view Lycaonia, The river Melas and the whole of Lycia.27

26. According to dramatic conventions of the period, the stage must be empty at the end of an act; indeed, in plays observing the unity of place the exiting of all characters would be the signal to the audience that the act was over. However, since in machine plays the scene changes happen instantaneously and in full view of the audience, and since they, unlike other types of plays, did not have intermissions, Pascal allowed act 1 to conclude with Endymion on the stage but asleep. She will not repeat this violation of convention at the end of subsequent acts. 27. These are areas in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey). Lycia is directly south of Caria, the native region of Endymion; Lycaonia is to the east, separated from Caria by the province of Phrygia; the Taurus mountains are near the Mediterranean coast. The river Melas is in Cappadocia (east of Lycaonia and Phrygia), in the plain adjacent to the capital city of Mazaca.

Endymion 53

340

ENDYMION Dear Ismene, my heart tastes so much sweetness that I feel myself revive just as I die. O peerless pleasures!

ISMENE (stopping the chariot) Now our journey’s finished. At this point I must leave your company. Here is the sacred wood that you must pass through, And take good care at least that you don’t ruin 345 The effects of my magic. Activate your courage; Let it show in your eyes as on your face. When you begin your entry into the wood, Take care not to raise your voice too audibly; Pass through it silently and draw your sword; 350 Make sure your hand is always brandishing it, So that its gleam can put to flight the monsters, Which at the sight of it will fade away. You will see dragons, hydras, vipers, Centaurs, bears, tigers, and chimeras, which 355 Will make you tremble with horror and with fright. But don’t let yourself be swept away by terror: These phantoms are not real; a gleaming sword, An even smaller light will frighten them, And once they’ve disappeared, you’ll see at once 360 The effects of this spell. (She makes him get out of the chariot and leads him to the entrance of the wood.) ENDYMION I’m content at last. Ismene, if Heaven wants to favor me, I’ll say that nothing equals your magic powers.

365

ISMENE But if some mishap should come to you in this wood, You merely need to say my name two or three times, And I’ll come at once at the single word “Ismene,” To bring you aid. (She disappears.)

54 FRANÇOISE PASCAL ENDYMION (alone) O superhuman woman! But I no longer see her. Now it’s up to me To prepare my heart against the most cruel terror. (He sees here all the monsters that Ismene had told him about.) Gods! What do I see already? Can it be 370 That earth can allow such warfare from these dragons? But let’s have no dread; let’s show this gleaming sword In order to scare away this hellish race. I see them flee already. O gods, what cowardice! Let’s steel ourselves with but a bit of boldness. 375 They’re all leaving this place and quake with fear, By the mere brightness of this deceptive star; They dread the light of a slightly brilliant blade. They’re all withdrawing to the place they came from. They appear no longer; I am out of danger. 380 My soul, now we must stop thinking about What these funereal visions signified. As we wait for daylight to dispel this darkness, Let’s bend our knees within this sacred place And plead with Heaven to listen to my prayers. 385 O gods, what indistinct sound just struck my ears? My heart already tastes a peerless sweetness. What? Might this not be the beginning of The marvelous effects of that enchantment? But O gods, what roaring! What a horrid tempest! 390 What lightning, just Heaven, comes to strike my head! What shall we do at last for consolation? We must prepare now to receive our death. Ah, what an enchantment! What a horrid fury! Ismene, how full of deceit your magic is! 395 So come to help me, just as you promised me, In the extreme peril where you see me placed. Ah, gods, I feel the earth shake beneath my feet! I expect nothing but death from a lightning bolt. Well, what a change! I see it all calm down; 400 I hear no more noise; I see all things arranged To make me recover from my mortal fear, To change the colors covering my face, And I feel that the sweetness of the breeze already Allows my heart to heave sighs once again

Endymion 55 405 410

And to catch my breath after so great a terror, After so many woes that destiny makes for me. Ah, what a gentle light comes to illuminate me! Courage, Endymion, start to hope again. It’s Diana; it is she. Ah, I see her face. Let’s quickly hide amid this thick foliage. Ah, my senses! Ah, my eyes! What will become of you?

(He hides amid the foliage; meanwhile Diana enters, accompanied by her nymphs and by several dogs. She sits down on a rock directly facing Endymion, on whom she casts her gaze.)



DIANA But don’t you know what’s making me stay behind Today in this wood?

FIRST NYMPH No, goddess; it’s enough That such is your pleasure, and none of us is in 415 A rush to know the reason. DIANA I find this place So charming, its sight so sweet! SECOND NYMPH This stream alone Charms everyone’s senses.





DIANA The hunting here is fine.

FIRST NYMPH The stags here will receive some deadly warfare, Since you like this place.

SECOND NYMPH (seeing Endymion) What, goddess! Do you see 420 That insolent man? Now then, let him be struck By my first arrow.

56 FRANÇOISE PASCAL DIANA No, no, if he must die, I have to be the one to cause his wound. Let someone bring to me my bow and quiver That the son of Venus gave me on the occasion 425 When I passed through the forest of Idalia,28 And I at once will strike him down for his madness. (She shoots five or six of Cupid’s arrows at him in order to deceive the sight of her nymphs.)

430

ENDYMION (to himself) Ah, cruel goddess! Alas, harsh destiny! O pitiless nymphs, complicit in my death, What harm did my eyes do to you, merciless nymphs? Were they so guilty for looking at Diana? She, who beheld me with so sweet a gaze, Had no intent to launch these blows at me. But O gods! I’m dying! Oh! (He falls, as if dead.)

DIANA His life is finished.



435 440

SECOND NYMPH And now behold the punishment for his boldness. (They depart.) ENDYMION (alone, still lying flat) O glorious death that comes from a godly blow! O charming pain that will never have an end! I feel my heart die with a continuous death, One that makes me revive while it’s killing me. O woes full of sweetness, charming cruelty, O pleasant languor, dear felicity! O delicious torment, pleasing bitterness! Sweet fires that burn me though I’m not consumed!

28. City in Cyprus consecrated to Venus. Diana’s possession of some of Cupid’s arrows, signifying a reconciliation between the god of love and the goddess of chastity, allows her to combine the two functions of the bow and arrow: hunting and killing, but also inspiring passion.

Endymion 57 445

My body, what will you do, pierced on all sides? My eyes, what will you do, having no more light? Ah, Diana, must you …

NYMPH (enters looking for a dog; she sees Endymion) O Licante, Licante! Well, well! What are you doing there, poor suffering soul? Are you hurting somewhere? Are you dreaming? Answer; At least look at me.





450

ENDYMION I cannot. NYMPH And why not?

ENDYMION You can see my eyes are all covered with arrows, And my poor body has a thousand breaches; I’m pierced all over.

NYMPH O gods, what are you saying? I can assure you that your body and your eyes Have no arrows, no injuries; look, I beg you, How they are harmed. (She opens his eyes herself.) ENDYMION (getting up) What a divine deception! 455 What did I do, great gods, that could have deserved The blows that I received? NYMPH Take care not to offend The goddess and the gods, but recognize the favor That Diana does for you wherever you go, And know that today you placed yourself at risk 460 Of being shot a hundred times by arrows From the nymphs, to whom Diana long ago Granted all her powers through her great gentleness,

58 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 465

And they view men as their cruel enemies. There’s not one man who ever was permitted To enjoy Diana’s sweet presence for one moment Without their punishing him at once for his imprudence. Understand that, to content their cruel fury, She deceived their eyes by piercing you in the heart.

470

ENDYMION Fair nymph, tell me: how does the goddess think Of me within her soul?

NYMPH With more tenderness Than she has ever felt for other mortals Who have built altars solely for her glory. I can assure you that she favors you Over other humans, speaking of you so freely 475 That the gods are amazed to see you so esteemed By one whom love could never charm before. They grumble among themselves to know she’s in love, And she scorns the skies and even her own rank To show you favor with such gentleness. 480 And you go accusing her of too much cruelty? How much she said one day near the Maeander, Going toward Miletus and Priene!29 She informed us Of the plan she had to grant you special favors And she devoted all her talk to praising you. 485 As we were strolling, she’d keep saying: “Here Is the home of Endymion, that faithful lover. But I no longer see him. Where has he gone to? This spot that formerly so attracted him, Has it lost its power? Has he abandoned hunting? 490 Or rather has some mishap come to him here? But,” she told us then, “I want to warn you (Or else I’d make you feel my wrath at once) That when Endymion, keeping his passion in check, Seeks the occasion to enjoy the sight of me, 495 Unless you want to feel my blazing anger, 29. These two cities and the river Maeander are located in Endymion’s native province of Caria. The nymph is emphasizing that Diana deliberately spends extra time in that area to be able to contemplate the man she loves.

Endymion 59 500 505

Let him not be subjected to your harsh blows.” She speaks to the sylvans, to the fauns and naiads, Even to the dryads, of your remarkable virtues. Do you think she herself has all the leisure That she could wish for? Seeing that at every turn She’s required in Greece, and next in Scythia, In Armenia, Crete, and Ethiopia. Is there any land on which the sun’s light shines Where Diana must not travel the same path by night? But I stay too long; they wait for me. In short, By having a long conversation with you here, I wish to inform you that Diana told me …30



ENDYMION O gods, let’s prepare ourselves to hear this story! What did my goddess tell you, O peerless nymph?

510

NYMPH Something that ought to please you very much.



ENDYMION Well, what did she tell you?

NYMPH I am to persuade you To serve her always and to consider her As someone who wants to shower you with her favors As long as you follow her delightful paths. 515 In areas where other mortals dare not aspire You can obtain and should hope for everything. If you wish to stand tomorrow on the mountain Where Diana will have just me as her companion, She has declared to me that she’ll give you the time 520 To gaze on her the way that you intend. Farewell; I’m rushed. Don’t fail to come at the hour That Diana commands you. ENDYMION Ah, I’d rather die 30. The nymph admits that her presence is not really a coincidence (looking for a lost dog), but rather that she was sent by Diana to be a messenger to him.

60 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 525

Than disregard a favor of such worth. My soul wishes for it with excessive ardor. But farewell, fair nymph.

NYMPH Farewell, you handsomest Of all mortal men. Diana has good reason To favor you over so many admirers. (She departs.)

530

ENDYMION (alone) Stop lavishing these flattering words on me. POEM Ever-changing destiny, deceiving visions, Dark and gloomy night, delightful rays of light From a goddess who just now was unrelenting And dealt me immortal blows crueler than death; And yet this nymph told me for my consolation That Diana was most sweet and favorable to me.

535 540

Diana, can’t your power overcome Those monsters of cruelty whom you wish to content With those barbarous arrows whose sting I felt? Goddess, you could have spared me from those blows, Without blinding my eyes in so sweet a moment And forcing my mouth to utter complaints to you.

545

Have I passed through the most terrifying places, Have I overcome horrid monsters, so that I Might enjoy your heavenly favors for one moment And behold your celestial beauty once again? My eyes have seen the flowers amid the radiance, But my heart at the same time has felt the thorns.

550

Diana, were my desires unreasonable? Did I come to this spot to overhear your secrets, That you should pierce my heart with such stinging arrows? Yes, goddess, it’s true that I was criminal And that I deserved eternal punishment, For coming here to feel such potent weapons.



Endymion 61 555

But let’s stop here. My senses all are weary. Let’s go and rest after the ills I’ve suffered At the base of this myrtle, where the moss is thick, To support my body that is faint with weakness.

(He lies down at the base of the myrtle and falls asleep. Sthenoboea enters, carrying a knife in her hand, looking for someone to cut a branch of the myrtle for her.) 560 565 570 575 580

STHENOBOEA I’m seeking someone who’ll agree to help me With something I ask of him, against my wishes. I need such a man here, though I’ll flee from him; He might serve me but cannot win my love, For you know, Diana, that I belong to you And that I’ve vowed to live under your laws. You know that ten thousand hearts are sighing for me And that they aspire in vain to marry me. But necessity will now make me accept Some hand that formerly I’d have rejected. I must attend a certain sacrifice, And someone must today do me the favor Of cutting off part of the myrtle that I see, Which in height surpasses the other trees of this wood. But at the base of this tall tree I espy a man Who in beauty surpasses lilies and vermilion. Let’s quietly approach to observe this stranger And let’s find out how long he has been here. Let’s go forward. But, O gods, I know this face! From where can this divine creature have come? Ah, Diana, it is true that I once saw him And despite my efforts fell in love with him. But during the few months that I’ve been away from him I’ve tried to banish the charming thoughts of him. I finally forced myself, when I saw him no longer, And when I found that all my sighing was useless. I placed myself back at last under my first law, And yet my heart was inflamed for my later one.

(Endymion, opening his eyes, gazes on Sthenoboea, who begs him to cut off a small branch from the myrtle for her.)31 31. In Gombauld’s novel, she wakes him up, and the whole episode is clearer. Sthenoboea tells Endymion that she has received an order to offer a branch from the myrtle as part of the ceremony in

62 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 585 590



O you, whom the gods perhaps have sent here, midst This sacred wood, to help me in my need, Cut off for me a little branch of this myrtle, And I will give you in return at once This heart, so desired and so often sought after, That was never seen to be bound to any man, Unless you have the character of a savage. ENDYMION (getting up, draws his sword to cut off the branch for her) Who could refuse you, charming, amazing beauty, An even greater favor?

STHENOBOEA Wait here a little longer, For if someone came upon me suddenly in this place, 595 Alone with you like this, they might speak ill of it. So, in serving me, do everything I desire.



ENDYMION Yes, divine beauty, your wish is my command.

600

STHENOBOEA Just one more favor that you have to grant me: As soon as your hand has used this sword To cut this branch, in accordance with my plan, You must stand aside, to give me the occasion To take it at once.

ENDYMION (cutting off a small branch) I’ll follow your desire. Here, beautiful one, is what you ask me for.

605

STHENOBOEA Too charming stranger, you’re extremely kind. I’ll show you gratitude.

honor of Diana, slated for the following day. She also notes that, according to an oracle, the goddess will descend to earth to honor the person bringing the branch and following the greatest sacrifice that has ever been made to the moon. Endymion, although he has been warned by Ismene not to touch any of the branches in the enchanted forest, assumes that it is allowable to assist Diana’s priestess, especially since, he argues, the goddess has a right to dispose of her own trees.

Endymion 63 (As she takes the branch and departs, several men emerge from the wood and seize Endymion.) FIRST MAN What a sacrilege, O gods! It has brought Heaven’s wrath down upon you. What has led you here, profane and hapless man? Do you know what death your crime condemns you to?

610

SECOND MAN My comrades, listen to that pitiful voice That makes this wood resound with its sad cries In the trunk of this myrtle.

THIRD MAN Great gods, what a miracle! Why, might this not be some new oracle? Fair creature, you who lament in this new myrtle, Tell us what fate has placed you in this tomb, 615 In the name of all the gods. DIOPHANE (metamorphosed into a myrtle) Ah, cruel fortune, Will you continue to harass me still? You wretched man, who’ve come to disturb my rest, What had so inopportunely brought you here, To come to attack me inside this new form, 620 Where no humans ever would have recognized me? What pains and what torments have I not endured? Have those I thought I lost come back to me? Great gods, what has Diophane done to you? She thought that her suffering at last was over. 625 Alas, cruel destiny! HERMODAN (falling on his knees at the base of the myrtle) O gods, what have I heard? So here’s the treasure that my heart has lost. Ah, my Diophane, alas, I’ve lost you, Since it’s in this state that you’re at last restored To me! What, the loveliest, most accomplished creature 630 That the gods ever made is found again like this!

64 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 635 640

O charming beauty, receive my soul again, Under this sad bark where I offer you my love. Incomparable fair one, is it in this form That I see again this body, whose divine splendor Had captivated gods as well as men?32 Yet how could it happen that the wood we’re in Could have hidden this treasure from me for so long, And still withhold her when it lets me see her? Fair eyes that burned me, and without stop still burn me, Beauty whom I adored and by whom I’m still smitten, Alas, don’t you see this unfortunate lover Whom once you enchanted with such gentleness? So speak to me again, you peerless mouth, And stop hiding inside that sad tree trunk.

645

FIRST MAN What a new wonder! This unhappy shepherd Is going to die here!

THIRD MAN We must comfort him. Come, shepherd, stand up; tell us your story please. What misfortune is making you die in this place?

650

HERMODAN (pointing to the slave) Alas, I can’t. This man better than I Will tell you the reason.

SLAVE Hermodan, stand up.33 We’ll go away from here to tell this story, And not renew for him the cruel memory Of the ills that she has suffered.



HERMODAN No, go alone.

32. In Gombauld’s novel, Hermodan prays to Apollo for assistance, and the god falls in love with Diophane himself, though he ultimately yields her to his human rival. 33. It is most unusual for a servant to call his master by his first name and to address him by the familiar form (“tu”). In the novel it is explained that the slave was in the service of Diophane and that after his mistress’s disappearance he has befriended the man she loved.

Endymion 65 655

I wish to end my excessive torment here. I wish to sacrifice the rest of my life to her, For it’s impossible for me …

SLAVE No, don’t wish that. Let’s go, dear Hermodan; I will not leave you. Whatever place you’re in I wish to follow you. Come away, I beg you. HERMODAN All right, I declare to you 660 That I’ll leave behind this pleasing yet fatal myrtle, Once I have paid to her through tears and cries All that my love owes to her priceless beauty, Since now that’s all that I can do for her.



SLAVE It’s useless for us to want to wait for him.

665

THIRD MAN Meanwhile, let’s lead this young man off to prison, To get a full accounting for his crime. (Exeunt all but Hermodan.)

HERMODAN (alone at the base of the myrtle) POEM Beauty both piteous and charming, Despite the bark that covers you, Open to me this sacred tomb, fair creature. 670 The reason is: my soul is angry To live so long and no longer see those eyes, Which once served as my sun and as my gods.34 O lovable and wretched hair, That I see changed into foliage, 675 Fair forehead, living throne to which I addressed my prayers, Fair eyes, exquisite countenance, 34. This form of hyperbolic declaration was typical of love poetry at the time and was not viewed as blasphemous.

66 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

You, mouth through which Cupid once announced The oracle that foretold the happiness I enjoyed.

Alas, allow, O wretched branches, 680 Allow this heavenly voice once more To be heard so that it can ease my sorrows, Or rather let my body take root At the base of this fair myrtle, where all my desires Are. Then you’ll see my tears and my sighs cease. 685 But it’s all over. I no longer Hear her voice, so charming and so sweet. My cries and my laments turn out to be pointless; It’s in vain that I torment myself. But having watered this myrtle with my tears, 690 Let’s water it with blood to make my sorrows end. (As he goes off to look for a sword, the act ends.) (The far back of the stage is the facade of the palace of Thymoetes, with an upper level supported by columns of jasper; in front of the palace is a garden with a large number of pine and cypress trees on either side of the stage; in the middle there are beds of flowers. Thymoetes and his ministers emerge from the palace and enter the garden. They are followed by Sthenoboea and the slave.)

Act III

THYMOETES Well now, what do you say of that handsome man? Did you notice in the expression on his face A youthful pride mingled with gentleness That shows his noble nature through his eyes?

695

PYRIDOR His manner of speaking is as charming as his person.



STHENOBOEA (aside) And that makes him deserve the heart I give him.



THYMOETES He admits to the crime and believes he’s innocent, Since he was impelled to it by a powerful charm.

Endymion 67 700

A godlike woman, unequaled in her beauty, Obliged him to cut off that fatal branch. But finally, my friends, do you not find him Worthy to be sacrificed?

ADMON That glorious death Belongs by right only to noble souls Like this stranger, whose good qualities are such 705 That he should indeed be judged as more than mortal, Worthy of being sacrificed on our sacred altars.



THYMOETES Let’s all go at once to consult the oracles To learn if the gods … (Enter Clindor.)



710

CLINDOR Those are two fine miracles!

THYMOETES But where have you come from, Clindor, so amazed? What has upset your mind?

CLINDOR Just wait a moment; After what I’ve just seen let me catch my breath, So that I can speak with less difficulty.



THYMOETES So, Clindor, tell us what you alone have seen.

715 720

CLINDOR This unheard of wonder has shaken my whole being. Well, you all know that in the sacred forest, Where this new myrtle appears right at the entry, That poor unfortunate man whom we left behind On the ground, holding that trunk in his embrace, After watering it a long time with his tears, Was forced by his grief to take up other weapons.

68 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 725 730 735 740 745

I approached him, recognizing his intention, Seizing the sword he was pointing at his breast. He tried his best to make me give it back, But I managed to defend myself against him gently. Having hidden that sword, I did all in my power To try to put a stop to his cruel despair. And I plead with him in vain; he’s wild with fury. Nothing can calm him down; he’s raging constantly. However, I left him, having removed from him This sword, which I’d so worried he would use. He calls me wicked, cruel, pitiless, For wanting to prolong his wretched life. I let him cry out in this torrent of woes; Despite all his torments, his pleas to me are useless. I left him all alone in this harsh agony, Which made the wood resound with his laments. But knowing the despair that love can lead to, I wanted to check on him in that sad spot. But, O gods, what did I see? Instead of the man, I saw a wild olive tree touching the myrtle. After so much pining away, his prayers are answered; He has dried his tears; his torments are now over. His branches are joining those of his beloved, Which lets us judge how contented she must be To see this dear shepherd.

SLAVE O marvel from the gods! Too happy Hermodan, could you ever have hoped For a better outcome? ADMON Friend, tell us the story, As you promised us. SLAVE Alas, sad memory! Must I recall misfortunes so cruel that 750 I can’t recount them without shedding tears?

Endymion 69



THYMOETES My son, to satisfy this whole company, Begin now.

SLAVE Everyone knows how Diophane Was, before her mishap, the most amazing beauty That could make every heart her abject slave. 755 All men surrendered when they approached this marvel, As peerless in rigor as she was in beauty. From her earliest youth, in imitation of The girls of her age, she developed a fondness For guarding the flocks, and she found her delight 760 And her contentment in those activities. Among the shepherds she was acquainted with, The ones most welcome in her company there, It was Hermodan who, ever since their childhood, Enjoyed the fullest friendship with her. But 765 At last, coming to know their all-powerful charms, Cupid with one arrow wounds two innocent hearts. For if they were the most perfect creatures on earth, They loved each other with an unequaled love. But just when Hermodan thought himself happiest, 770 It’s then that destiny was harshest to him. Such an amazing beauty was too admired To remain for long without inspiring passion. Countless lovers were seen dying for her beauty, And Hermodan alone could win her heart. 775 Amphidamas was one of the most high-ranking And in the end was one of the most wretched. Her father urged her to accept this illustrious Lover, but she was rebellious to his order. However, her attempts to shield herself were vain: 780 Her father resolved on such a powerful son-in-law. At last he exercised his authority so strongly That he caused the death of this fairest of maidens. Pretending to agree to her father’s wishes, When she saw him carried away with anger, she 785 Declared to him that she would satisfy him, Provided that she was given five or six days’ time. That time was given her with great joy, but this

70 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 790 795 800

Meant giving her the path and opportunity That was to cost them so much grief and weeping, Since the gods, moved by her intense suffering, Allowed this divine beauty, soon afterwards, To see her fair body covered by a harsh tree-bark.35 After this mishap she is looked for everywhere, Since not one of us, not even poor Hermodan, Seeing she had disappeared, ever would have thought That the gods had placed her in such a shape forever. We searched a long time for what was close to us, And if this stranger had not come among us To cut off that branch with a sacrilegious hand, Her father would have had people keep searching. But let’s go to inform this wretched father What misfortune his harsh plan has brought about.

805

THYMOETES O gods! What a sad tale, and what strange tidings Will be told to Licaspis, this fair maiden’s father! But let’s proceed now with our plans, since they Are pious and saintly, done for the gods’ sake. Let’s go to ask them whether the handsome victim, Whom each of us has so come to esteem, Must be sacrificed to them on this solemn day.

810

PYRIDOR Since we’re assured that he’s not criminal, As we first thought; if it was at the request Of some deity …

STHENOBOEA (aside) I am the murderess; He did it to obey me. THYMOETES Friends, it’s time To bring to heaven through resounding cries 35. This episode is clearer in Gombauld’s novel. Diophane, claiming that she had earlier made a vow to join Diana’s nymphs, requests three days in order to offer the goddess sacrifices of expiation. At the end of the second day she returns home pale and distraught, and at the end of the third day she does not return home at all and is not seen again.

Endymion 71 815

Our desires and prayers, in order that the goddess May receive the victim that the people clamor for. (They all leave, except for Sthenoboea, who remains alone.)

820

STHENOBOEA (alone) What have your pleasures now become? What is the meaning of your sighs, O most criminal Sthenoboea! What misfortune have you fallen into? Cupid will henceforth dominate you, Since he has crept into your soul; He’s going to produce a flame within It that will never be extinguished.

825 830

O law, most pitiless and harsh, When I agreed to follow you, You should at least have promised me That in the state I was about to join No one would be able to touch this heart, That it would always be unyielding, That it would not be susceptible To being pierced by this boy conqueror.

835 840

When to the goddess Diana I Vowed to devote my virginity By wanting to follow her example, I went to her temple to make my vow; But Diana never told me that Cupid would come to Albania To exert his tyranny on me And conquer me with such great charms.

845

How many of them this prisoner has! Only by never seeing him Could one not experience his spell And not surrender to its power. The efforts that my heart has made To resist all his good qualities Have not been strong enough to succeed, And the adored man was too perfect.

72 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 850 855

But what are we to hope for now? What use is it for us to sigh? This handsome man who caused my crime Will be the innocent victim who Must soon have his life sacrificed. A goddess who is pitiless, In order to make my love more guilty, Is coming today to steal him from me.

860

How very harsh my destiny is, If this loving heart of mine must feel So cruel a calamity, To see this lovely star eclipsed In the very midst of its fair springtime, This perfect miracle of men! I clearly see that in this era The immortal gods show fickleness.

865 870

Great gods, why have you caused me to Be smitten by his loveliness Just to snatch him away at the same time? Why are you allowing him to die? Is it to punish me for my love That this sacrifice is now required? Will Endymion have to perish Upon this sad and fatal day?

875 880

Diana, if these things must be, Let me sacrifice myself as well, And to satisfy what you desire You also will receive my life, And then you’ll see come to an end The excess of my loving passion That seems to you to be so hateful And that deserves multiple deaths.



ALCYONE (enters, taking Sthenoboea unawares) Sthenoboea, it’s true: you’re struggling desperately, And you suffer even more through this deep silence. Inform me of your illness, since it’s vital to me; It might be lessened by telling me about it.

Endymion 73 885

But if I told you what I think the cause Is of the ills that now make you dejected, Will you admit to me what the reason is?



STHENOBOEA Yes, I’ll admit to you the name of my sad beloved, Worthy of my pity as he is of my passion.

890

ALCYONE This foreign prisoner has conquered your heart.



He’s the one.



STHENOBOEA

ALCYONE I thought as much, and you hid that from me?

895 900

STHENOBOEA Don’t be astonished; it’s that I have tried To banish from my heart that criminal passion, And my cruel fate wants it to blaze forever. O harsh and sacred vow, you cause my torment, Making me both desire the loved one and refuse him! Unbearable law, you keep me tightly bound And I feel obliged to keep you despite my love! But it’s in vain, Diana; I must, despite Myself, break the oath to live under your sway.

905

ALCYONE Fair Sthenoboea, what’s the point of so much lamenting? Since finally Cupid has given you these pangs, Since your chaste heart, despite your struggles, has Yielded to the love that causes your remorse, So handsome a lover can serve as your excuse; His merits will make your love worthy of pardon. But I’m still astonished that this handsome stranger, In just the few moments since he first arrived here, Could have charmed your heart with such a rapid conquest.

910

STHENOBOEA Alas, you’re mistaken when you talk that way.

74 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 915 920 925 930 935 940

I saw him once before in Venus’ temple, Along with others who were unknown to me. None but him pleased my sight, but he pleased me so That my vow to Diana did not have the power To make me resist the blows from so perfect a victor; All the struggling that I did had no effect. I spoke to him constantly during the few days That were ordained for us to make sacrifices. In short, he seemed so charming to my sight That my heart conceived this fine passion right away. As for him, I don’t know how he felt about me; I don’t know whether his heart was smitten by me. Although he showed great attentiveness to me, He always treated me with great restraint, Showing marks of respect filled with indifference That banished at once my sweetest hope, and he Would constantly expound on my bit of beauty, Which nevertheless failed to ignite his passion; For though he’d often sigh while in my presence, I noticed much impatience in his looks. I was not always what he chose to gaze on, And his wandering eyes would move in all directions. They would rise up to heaven with pleading ardor, Although I was constantly present beside him. That’s the reason why I can’t fail to conclude That someone other than me was making him sigh. And yet that reason was not strong enough To banish this budding passion from my heart; Although it’s certain that he was fond of me, I still believe that he loved another woman. And although, when we parted, he displayed A bit of sorrow over our separation, I’ve clearly seen since then his weak affection.

945

ALCYONE What! Could you doubt that he’d develop passion For such sweet loveliness, such powerful charms, To which the gods themselves might well surrender? Banish those thoughts; believe that your fair eyes Create adorers in every place they flash. What would have made him come to the woods of Albania

Endymion 75 950

And endure the tyrannous treatment of our people, Unless he wished to see your beauty that bewitched him?



STHENOBOEA Ah, dear Alcyone, what good is it for me To love this handsome man?



ALCYONE What’s the new obstacle?

955

STHENOBOEA What, my eyes, must you see so cruel a spectacle? Great gods, can you allow upon your sacred altars The fairest of men to be sacrificed today?



ALCYONE What! He’s to be sacrificed? Are you quite certain?



STHENOBOEA I’m not positive, but I suffer a torment from it That cannot be expressed.

ALCYONE Did they speak of it? 960 Who says so, Sthenoboea?

To consult the oracle.

STHENOBOEA Alas, they’ve gone

ALCYONE O gods, is it possible? No, they would have to have unfeeling hearts To shed the blood of a demigod today. My dear Sthenoboea, let’s depart from here 965 And learn whether it’s true that he must perish. If possible, let’s prevent this cruel sacrifice.



STHENOBOEA Alas, be it the gods’ will to wreck the plan That our priests have devised, although it’s just and holy.

76 FRANÇOISE PASCAL (The [interior of the] palace of Thymoetes appears with many columns, and in the middle of the great room of the palace is a table covered with a lovely tablecloth, on which are placed baskets of flowers, and vases of gold or other metals, all of this for the sacrifice of Endymion, who appears alone in the middle of the room, loaded with chains made of gold and silver.)

Act IV ENDYMION (loaded with chains on his hands and feet) Diana, now will you be satisfied? 970 Or rather, if your vengeance is still incomplete, Is that the price for all my labors? Is it thus you wish to reward me for my pains? Is it to relieve my suffering That I’ve been loaded with these chains? 975 Aren’t they devising some new torments for me? Won’t my miserable course of life be ended? Ungrateful goddess, you well know that my heart Already pined for love of you; But though love’s chains are not so visible, 980 The anguish that my heart has suffered Shows clearly that they’re felt more keenly Than these chains covering my hands and feet. Goddess, this is the favor I am shown, Which means that my love trusts in vain 985 To be rewarded in the future. Am I to have an infinite series of ills, Now that I’m in this cruel land, Exposed to all the tyranny Of a pitiless, savage and loveless people? 990 They plan to take my life, and though they hide it From me, if I’m the victim, I’ll have to know. They’re making all their preparations, And even their words make me fully aware That I’m the one among the captives 995 Who must perish under their power; And yet they’re still afraid to tell me this.

Endymion 77 But, goddess, tell me what my real crime is, To see whether your wrath can be legitimate. Ah, it’s you, you sacrilegious hand, 1000 Who made me so guilty by being too obedient, For having made me feel too much Compassion for that peerless beauty, For whom I so quickly cut that myrtle branch. 1005

But whom do I see coming? It’s he: my masters, The high priest with his fellow priests.

(Enter Thymoetes and his ministers, Pyridor and Admon. A slave enters carrying a vase with water of purification. Thymoetes sprinkles a small amount of it on Endymion and bows deeply to him.)

1010 1015 1020

THYMOETES Endymion, receive this initial ritual, Since you will appear just like another Sun, When we behold him as he completes his course And hides his heavenly light under the sea, Just as we’ll see that other gleaming Star Chase the shadows of the night from every place. In short, this goddess, who’s so great and fair, Whose solemn festival is held today, Desires that you be sacrificed to her soon, Knowing that your heart bears such zeal for the gods. The oracles have said so, and the goddess herself Indicates that she has an extreme desire for it. In short, Endymion, you clearly see that the gods Will doubtless give you a dwelling place in the sky; It’s clear that earth is totally incapable Of bearing an incomparable man so long. The gods, removing you from life to favor you, Show that their plan must be to make you immortal.

1025

ADMON (to the others) Ah, what do I see, O gods! What a heroic soul! He learns of this sentence without turning pale.



THYMOETES Courage, Endymion; steel your noble heart.

78 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

Without blaming the gods for showing too much harshness, Offer your fine soul to them.

ENDYMION There is no need To instruct me what I must do on this occasion. 1030 O pleasing sentence, O desirable death! Ought I not to bless my fate for being sweet? In short, it’s for Diana. A dear, glorious death That will take the prize above all other deaths! So it’s for my goddess! Is there anything sweeter 1035 Than to die for her and feel the blows she sends? Sharpen your knives, proceed with all due speed. I will await the moment with impatience. Far from dreading the decree, I adore its author. I tell you once again, high priest, that since 1040 It’s for Diana … THYMOETES Yes, my son, it’s for her. She’s the one who orders it. ENDYMION Ah, charming news! Since I must die, let’s go; I am content. I’ll receive the blow with a heart that’s firm and constant. But if you feel reluctance to sacrifice me, 1045 As I recognize from your facial expressions, If you feel dread at carrying out this plan, You’ll see me plunge the knife into my breast. What, you shed tears? As for me, I die with longing To arrive at the altar, there to end my life. 1050 I’ve no desires left save for this sweet death, And you’d anger me by not leading me there. In short, you see I’m ready; arrange the rite; Go promptly to prepare my execution.

1055

THYMOETES Your execution, my son, contains nothing harsh. A heroic soul will find it something sweet.

Endymion 79



ENDYMION Since it’s for the gods that I am sacrificed, I must with good reason view it as glorious.

1060

THYMOETES Yes, the gods have chosen you above all humans; It’s from their divine hands that we hold you here. For it is true, my son, that it’s our practice To sacrifice only illustrious victims. You should judge yourself happy to have been placed in That rank and kiss the knife that will rip you open.

1065

ENDYMION Thymoetes, that’s enough. It gives me glory And more contentment than anyone can believe. Go, my dear friends, hurry. What are you waiting for? You see that I am ready, so prepare yourselves. Do the initial rites, since here’s the victim, Content and ready as soon as he’s informed.

1070

THYMOETES (embracing Endymion) O too heroic soul, more heavenly than human! O miracle of mortals! Must my hand Plunge the murdering blade into this noble heart?

1075

ENDYMION No, have no fear; I’m totally resolved. You’ll see me more ready to receive the blow Than you to strike it.

THYMOETES (departing with his attendants) Ah, that’s a lot, my son.

1080

ENDYMION (alone) POEM What was predicted for me is only too true. So you’ve commanded this, you fickle goddess: I’m to be sacrificed for this solemn day! Yes, I will die, Diana, not knowing my crime; I’ll go to your altar to become your victim And shed my blood for being a criminal.

80 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 1085

My heart, we’re complaining; this decree has shocked us, And Diana wants this; it’s she who ordered it. You see that she’s the judge; we must obey. How truly you learned this from a mortal’s lips36 Yesterday. That’s why today the pleasing news Of this death sentence should make you rejoice.

1090

Let’s die, Endymion, making no resistance, And let’s show death a heart that’s filled with courage. Yes, today, Diana, you will see your altar, To content your eyes and satisfy yourself, Turn red all over, since it’s for your pleasure That you wish to see a wretched mortal’s blood.

1095

But, Diana, it’s too much; you shower me with glory, And I dare complain of such a victory. It’s you who wish my death; I dispute no longer. Goddess, I consent; my soul gets ready To die for the honor of so fine a thing. I would be criminal to refuse this order.

1100

But I hear Sthenoboea with her attendants, This wondrous beauty, the honor of Albania. Ah, gods! I see her in lovely array. Let’s listen to what this shining sun has to say: Let’s hide in a corner. (He hides behind a column; enter Sthenoboea, Alcyone, Felicia.)

1105 1110

STHENOBOEA Alas, what can I do? What recourse have I left, since all things are against me? The oracles have said it; the gods have decreed it. It’s all over; he’s dead, since he has been condemned. Must I see you end, O solemn, fatal day? I must, despite myself, hate you endlessly. Don’t be astonished, goddess; it’s your harshness That despite my obligations makes my heart complain.



ALCYONE What festival is this? What kind of rejoicing?

36. In other words, he connects these events with Parthenope’s prophecy in act 1.

Endymion 81 1115 1120

All one sees is tears; no one feels confidence, Though they’re making all the plans for the sacrifice And steeling their eyes to go and be witnesses To so sad a spectacle, at the foot of that altar. Their duty agrees but their pity resists. Ah, goddess, cancel this cruel, heinous act, Which puts this whole triumph into a state of gloom. Allow some doe or heifer to be slaughtered On the altar where you want Endymion to perish; Use the animal’s blood to spare Endymion’s.

1125

STHENOBOEA Ah, you will be deceived if you think that way. One must rather think that Diana now makes haste To arrive at the moment that her harshness hopes for. But let’s seek out the victim and despite our grief Let’s place the crown of flowers on his head, With the purple headband, and let’s give him tears, Since we have no other weapons to save him with.

1130

ENDYMION (appearing) Fortunate Endymion! O day too sweet for me To be lamented this way!

STHENOBOEA Come now, approach, Charming Endymion; if I perform this service, You should know I’m not complicit in your death. With how many tears, with what despair did I 1135 Steel myself to carry out this sad obligation? If only I could give my own life to spare yours! But the law cannot allow me to have my wish. In short, you were arrested for obeying me; You’ve been ill treated by the Albanians; 1140 You find yourself a prisoner loaded with chains, And yet I’m not the cause of your misfortunes, For undoubtedly the gods wanted to choose you, Seeing you so perfect, so suited to their desire, To be sacrificed to them; so everyone thinks, 1145 Though I had planned another reward for you, Just as I should have.

82 FRANÇOISE PASCAL ENDYMION No, you lovely beauty, I’ll be satisfied in my captivity, Just as I die content, since it’s for Diana, Since it’s a just decree, since all things condemn me. 1150 Even in serving you I was too honored; I would have found my fate more sweet than harsh, To have only chains as payment for my service. So speak to me no more of that small duty; It’s too well rewarded by this flood of tears. 1155 I see that my death will have nothing but sweetness. But wipe your lovely eyes, divine, amazing beauty, And stop opposing what’s prepared for me, Since it’s in vain that you fight to prevent it. No, it’s utterly useless to shed tears.

1160

STHENOBOEA You thus scorn the honor that I envy you for? Then my wishes will be so fully disregarded? Why, wretched man, did you come to our wood? What mad destiny forced you to follow its laws? In short, what impelled you to leave your native land?

1165 1170

ENDYMION A sweet, enticing charm, full of deceit. But no matter; my heart is fully content with it, And I don’t dare be amazed by the path I took, Having given myself over to Ismene’s magic, Which caused the death I’m being led to now. Let’s speak no more of it; let’s go without delay; Let’s adore this fine day, rather than complain of it. Let’s hurry …

STHENOBOEA Endymion, your courage kills me. The hour for your death has not arrived yet. I still dare hope that all will turn out well.

1175

FELICIA (aside) O gods, she’s to be pitied in her blindness!

Endymion 83



ENDYMION Kind-hearted beauty, why does your fair soul feel So keenly the blow that must finish my life? What is the reason?

STHENOBOEA What, can you not know What reason forces me to weep today? 1180 You know what I have told you of our first meeting. As soon as I saw you again, despite the long absence, Didn’t I recognize you? Didn’t you inform me That the sight of me made you astonished also? Don’t you recall that grand sacrificial rite 1185 Where we first met?

ENDYMION I was utterly delighted, Lovely Sthenoboea, in those moments so sweet. You can judge easily what raptures I felt When your heavenly form first came to strike my sight With the amazing charms that Heaven endowed you with. 1190 No, nothing pleased me except to converse with you; I could not bear anyone’s approach but yours, And I always kept your loveliness in my thoughts.



STHENOBOEA Alas! Could I indeed believe as true These things you’re telling me, Endymion?

ENDYMION 1195 Could you doubt them?

What,

FELICIA Prepare yourself at last, Sthenoboea, it’s time; place this crown on his head. (The attendants each take one of the baskets of flowers that are on the table and present them to Sthenoboea, who takes the crown made for Endymion and the purple headband to put on his forehead.)

84 FRANÇOISE PASCAL



STHENOBOEA Ah, fatal duty! My strength abandons me. No, my hand cannot manage to support this headband That must today drag you into your tomb.

1200 1205

ENDYMION Come now, dear Sthenoboea, come, I beg you. In short, if your grief today becomes public knowledge, How much all the Albanians will complain of it— They who’ve worked together to put chains on me! Indeed, what would be said when inside the temple The maiden at the altar, that unequaled beauty, Is seen to cry for a wretch, whom an unlucky fate Left in their hands, having abandoned him? So why cry for me if my death is certain? Control your grief, Sthenoboea; it is useless.

1210

STHENOBOEA Well, since I must and since finally you wish it, I now am going to wrap around your hair This sad headband.

(He sits down, and Sthenoboea places on him the headband and the crown of flowers, and her attendants attach several ribbons on him while he raises his eyes to heaven.) ENDYMION Since I’m required to die, Descend, great goddess, and advance this hour That must end my life to enhance the glory of yours. 1215 So why don’t you end the sad course of my days? You must … STHENOBOEA Diana, what! Will you be triumphant? Shall I see the moment you await so cruelly End as you wish, you ruthless deity? Was his captivity not enough for you? 1220 Was it not enough for him to be put in chains And live for a while under our heartless laws? At least I would have tried, by a spark of pity,

Endymion 85

Or, to say even more, by my pure affection, To break the bonds of this sad slavery.

1225 1230

ENDYMION No, no, Diana must have this advantage. After all, she’s a goddess; she must be obeyed. Sthenoboea, it is true; you would betray her And all the gods by violating their customs, And everything you say and you presume Can’t block the fulfillment of this pious plan.

1235 1240

STHENOBOEA Cruel Endymion, if my hope is futile, I’d have good reason, in the anguish gripping me, To complain of you far more than of the goddess. Though, through her harshness, I see you sacrificed, I still would find matter for consolation If, to content me, you desired to live. If you desired to follow my just wishes, Perhaps the gods, touched by the torment I feel, Would stop the carrying out of their command. But it’s in vain, ingrate; this decree contents you; I see you’re too indifferent to my grief; Diana’s harshness has bewitched your mind; Apart from her you view everything with scorn; In short, you bless this day that is so sad.

1245

ENDYMION Sthenoboea, you see what my destiny is: Diana has deigned to choose me for this day, And you want to oppose her just desire. So don’t complain any longer of this goddess.

1250

STHENOBOEA It’s in vain that my heart has deep emotion for you, Ungrateful Endymion! How little you regard What I feel for you!

ENDYMION So then declare it to me. You incomparable marvel, speak more clearly,

86 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

And don’t regret the fondness that you’ve shown me. Tell me this secret; why hide it from me?

1255

STHENOBOEA If I were to tell you, could it touch your heart? Besides, I feel too much remorse within me.



ENDYMION Could this avowal harm your reputation, O charming Sthenoboea?

STHENOBOEA It can indeed, And I prefer to keep it secret still. 1260 But Endymion, whatever happens to me, you must Believe, to prevent your death …

Live, noble beauty?

ENDYMION You want me to

STHENOBOEA I’ll do all in my power, And I dare to still live, keeping this sweet hope. If through my actions and my diligence 1265 The gods change your fate, after you’ve been released You’ll learn the reason that causes me to act, That makes me blush even to think of it. But farewell; I’m off to try, if it’s possible, To find some means, whether favorable or harmful.

1270

ENDYMION Go, divine beauty; if everyone agrees, I’ll agree to it.

STHENOBOEA (departing with her attendants) I will make every effort.



ENDYMION (alone) At last this beauty, despite her self-restraint,

Endymion 87 Almost opened her heart to me; I know her passion. Although she wishes to disguise it, 1275 Her blushing makes it known to me, And her grief makes it quite apparent, Since nothing can alleviate it. How much I pity her in this struggle; She dares not tell me what she feels, 1280 Yet she’d like me to understand it; Thus, her mind is suffering in this inner conflict. Passion and pain, together with constraint, Are causing mortal anguish in her heart. Yes, despite the prayers and oaths of service 1285 That I have made for you, my goddess, I feel that her torment greatly pains me, Though my feelings for her are not love. My heart is dying with compassion For this lovely creature who is distressed. 1290 My soul feels that it is obliged To show her signs of my affection for her. Diana, I may do that and not offend you; I owe this slight reward to her love for me. For, finally, if I die for you, 1295 This would not contravene my oaths Nor be meant as an insult to you, Since I’m not breaking faith with you. Goddess, you must believe that your harshness Is far more agreeable to me 1300 Than the most responsive beauties, since I still worship the one who makes me languish. But, Sthenoboea, you ask that my life be spared, While Diana wants it to be snatched from me; And why do you wish to dispute 1305 The speedy carrying out of that oracle? Why would you want to stand in the way Of something I wish to accept? If Diana wants things to be so, And if the Albanians desire it, 1310 And if the victim’s ready and willing, You will achieve nothing by worrying about it.

88 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

But still, let’s go see what will be the outcome, And whether this beauty’s hopes won’t be deceived. (A forest is now seen; its thick trees, however, leave a spacious area in which is the altar devoted to the sacrifice. Around it are Sthenoboea and her attendants, who carry baskets of flowers which they strew upon it.)

Act V 1315 1320



STHENOBOEA At last I’ve found limits to my misfortunes. Our victims will be merely animals. The gods have moderated their cruel justice. Endymion will have just the pretense of Execution. Only our bulls will be slaughtered, And then my misery will be relieved. I have found aid; the incomparable Ismene At last has delivered me from this harsh torment.

Who’s Ismene?

ALCYONE

STHENOBOEA A woman unknown in these parts And who doubtless comes from the Immortals’ race; In short, one can judge that she’s almost divine 1325 And that she took her origin from the gods. My sisters, you know how greatly I’ve lamented, And you have heard the indiscreet expressions Which my misery and my woe forced me to utter. Then I found a way to ease my lamentations: 1330 When I uttered sighs that flew up to the skies, This famous Ismene appeared before my eyes. A somber flood of sobbing and of tears Kept me at first from seeing this great enchantress. But when she spoke, thus taking me by surprise, 1335 Her statements brought much comfort to my woes. I did not need to tell her what the cause was Of the woes I suffered; it was too slight a matter That I appeared before her with so much grief. She already knew the basis of my sorrow. 1340 In short, her great knowledge, for which she has no peers,

Endymion 89 1345 1350 1355 1360

Shows that there’s never anything so obscure That’s unknown to her; in the most hidden places When people think they’ll escape her, they’re prevented. She can assist us or act to oppose us; We must only try to avoid displeasing her. She knows the misfortunes that are set to happen; She can forestall them, she can cut them off. She knew of my grief without ever having seen me. Thus my woes were eased in unexpected fashion. She presented me this knife with magical power, Though to your sight it may seem weak and light. In short, she told me that this skimpy blade Would soon make my heart’s grief come to an end. When it is plunged into that innocent heart, The spell she placed on it will make it powerless. And to ensure the effectiveness of her promise, She agrees to be present, mixed in with the crowd. She told me her name, and even as she did so, She saw a great astonishment in my face; For this name surprised me, as you might well believe, Since I had not banished from my memory All that Endymion had told me today. Don’t you remember, sisters, that it was he Who had spoken to us of someone named Ismene?

1365

FELICIA That’s true, Sthenoboea, and I am quite certain That he further told us …

ALCYONE Yes, unless I’m much Mistaken, he said she was mistress of his fate, Having given himself over to her spells and magic. She might well be the cause of all these perils.

1370

STHENOBOEA I’m not amazed if we find her hurrying Here to this foreign place to bring assistance To poor Endymion, whose soul is subjected To the powerful charms that she has utilized. She comes to halt the misfortunes that she’s caused.

90 FRANÇOISE PASCAL

1375

FELICIA So the Albanians’ preparations are in vain? Great gods, be likewise favorable to our prayers; Temper the anger that you were capable of.

1380

ALCYONE Let’s approach the altar and perform our rites, Letting the gods act with their heavenly powers, And let’s strew flowers upon this sacred altar.



STHENOBOEA Ismene, will you be faithful to your promise?



FELICIA I hear the instruments with a thousand voices, And their loud music makes our woods resound. It’s surely the townspeople with the victim.

1385 1390 1395

STHENOBOEA Ah, despite my hope, my grief now reawakens. Terror and fright will always follow me Until Ismene comes to give me aid. I tremble, I shudder, I remain in doubt. I hear them approaching. Listen, Alcyone. These people, blinded, come here full of pride And make their cries of joy fly up to heaven. But, I behold, O gods, these tyrannical men. Just see their splendid, ceremonial ornaments. The victim now appears; would you not say That he seems unconcerned by his impending death? That majestic bearing, that august appearance? Sisters, admit that my grief is justified.

(The townspeople emerge from behind the trees, with some of them carrying musical instruments, others vases filled with incense, still others torches; they sing hymns to the glory of the goddess. Thymoetes, arriving with the other [priests], wears the high priest’s tiara and mantle. Endymion arrives in the center [of the procession] dressed as the victim.)

Endymion 91 SLAVE (singing as a solo)37 Goddess, behold the victim here That you yourself have deigned to choose, 1400 Because he was so suited to your desire And so worthy of your esteem. You soon will see this altar of yours Turn red from the flow of this man’s blood, And then we’ll see you satisfied 1405 When Albania has carried out what you expected. CHORUS OF TOWNSPEOPLE O great and venerable goddess, Ascend quickly to the horizon, For you must know indeed that it is proper For you to appear before us now 1410 To receive the glory that you’ll feel From the incense and from the victims That we will offer you this day— One your divine presence will make more auspicious. STHENOBOEA (as a solo) This victim with his noble heart 1415 Feels so little terror over dying That he fears it far less than I do,38 I who find that fate too harsh. Ismene, we will see the outcome That destiny will arrange for him; 1420 But still, behave equitably; Now show yourself to be both just and truthful. CHORUS OF FEMALE ATTENDANTS Goddess, if it’s needed for your glory To cause the death at the same time Of these two lovely people, as you intend, 1425 Will you esteem your victory? 37. This is presumably the same slave who once served Diophane and later assisted Hermodan; the cast list mentions no other slaves. But why this character should receive pride of place in an elaborate religious ceremony is not made clear. If the play was staged prior to its publication, one could speculate that Pascal simply chose an actor with a good singing voice for this extended solo. 38. In the original, this line is shorter than the third lines of the other stanzas. Since presumably these verses comprised a strophic song, there must be two syllables missing here.

92 FRANÇOISE PASCAL For if one dies, the other at once Can ask only to die as well. Goddess, your clemency will have to Be shown at the same time as your great power. STHENOBOEA 1430 How much accord between our voices! Their words follow what I am feeling. These dear sisters make me clearly see that Their hearts are fully on the side Of those people who, out of compassion 1435 Or maybe out of real affection, Lament over the harsh fate of A victim as worthy as he’s unfortunate. CHORUS OF TOWNSPEOPLE O goddess, it’s true that our tears Are an indication of our pity 1440 And that our hearts in equal measure feel The cruelty that your arms inflict. The victim is worthy of the tears That everyone sheds for his misfortune. But finally you’ll be obeyed, 1445 Since what you wish will soon be carried out.



THYMOETES Albanian people, you offend the gods; You weep for the victim and grumble against them. The victim is content, yet his death moves you. He loves her who decrees it; learn it from his lips.

1450 1455

ENDYMION Albanian people, why do you weep for me? Why draw the wrath of the goddess on yourselves? Why refuse to give her what she asks of you? Do you think you’re granting her too great a favor? No, no, come close; behold my breast exposed; Be bold, plunge the blade of this sword into it. Open this heart quickly; the goddess so decrees. It’s only to her laws that this heart submits. But how’s this? From all sides I hear only laments. In spite of me you’re concerned about my fate.

Endymion 93 1460 Approach, Thymoetes, do not show reluctance. Satisfy the gods by this act of obedience. (Thymoetes mounts the altar with Endymion and Sthenoboea. Endymion kneels and continues to speak.) Appear quickly, goddess, so that the sight of you May imprint respect and reverence in their hearts And allow their cries to turn into cries of gladness. 1465 Make them change the grief that grips them into smiles. Let them stop complaining of what you decree; Let them feel respect for your divinity; Let them always utter hymns to glorify you; Let your greatness reign without end in their memory. 1470

THYMOETES In short, Endymion, let them keep complaining. If your heart is content, their tears for you are useless. We must do the gods’ will.

ENDYMION Please now, let’s proceed, Without heeding the tears shed by this rabble. THYMOETES Yes, let’s proceed, my son, and stop heeding them. 1475 (to Sthenoboea) Give me the knife.



STHENOBOEA Here it is.

THYMOETES Sthenoboea, What foolishness is this? Who persuaded you That this skimpy blade would have the same effect As knives used in the past? STHENOBOEA Here is the reason: Behold this woman here who can satisfy you. 1480 Hear her arguments without becoming angry. It’s only she who must inform you of The strength of this sword that has just alarmed you For being too light.

94 FRANÇOISE PASCAL ENDYMION (remains surprised upon seeing Ismene) O gods, what a surprise! Ah, deceitful one! ISMENE It’s true; I’m authorized 1485 By Diana. You, Thymoetes, don’t be amazed; I bring this sword here by her express command. For you will learn that one day, returning from The hunt, having run a long time, she felt weary. But the god of sleep, after making her take a rest, 1490 Came to her moments later to propose That she take a meal, with all of her attendants; She accepts the honor to which this great god Invites her. What pleased her most after this sweet meal, For she scorned rich and precious palaces, 1495 Was the group of streams that, with their gentle babbling, Charmed all her senses, also the dark grottos Where the god displayed all his rare things to her, And Diana’s eyes were quite enchanted by them. The god asked her which things might please her, and 1500 Urged her to take from there whatever would content her. But he himself picked out this knife for her; It appeared to her sight so light and beautiful That she at once accepted this pleasing present, Which would one day be so advantageous for her,39 1505 Because she knew that it, being so light, Would open a victim’s heart with utmost ease, That one day a great sacrifice would be made To her, at which this knife could be of service. What’s more, this victim so satisfies the gods 1510 That the goddess will soon come down from the skies; You’ll see her come here in her full resplendence And in a manner showing her great gratitude. She herself told me so when she ordered me To bring this knife that I have given you. 1515 Now promptly carry out what she commands you. 39. This lengthy narrative, emphasizing Diana’s use of an instrument provided by the god of sleep, is superfluous because the enchanted knife will not be used in the play. But in Gombauld’s novel Endymion does strike himself with the knife; then, believing himself to be dead, he descends into Hades, only to learn that he is still alive but has been in a profound dream state.

Endymion 95 (She disappears.)



THYMOETES (addressing the townspeople) Behold, Albanians, the word Diana sends you …



STHENOBOEA (standing behind Thymoetes, aside) O gods!

1520

THYMOETES And whether we must obey her now, And whether we ought not to start rejoicing To learn the special care she takes of us. So stop complaining, cease your blasphemies; For doubtless the gods are going to be delighted Once they see that they are served so readily. As for you, my son, I know what you desire, Which is only to see your glorious life be ended.

1525

ENDYMION That’s true, Thymoetes; you seem to be quite slow, While I feel my desire both violent and firm.

THYMOETES Albanian people, let your unjust complaints Cease; use your voices freely and without tears And demonstrate to the gods that your repentance 1530 Can indeed shield you from their justified wrath. They are gentle and merciful, despite your complaining. Ismene assures you that by showing submission You’ll be rewarded for your service to them, And that the Albanians will be in the foremost 1535 Rank of those who daily make them sacrifices. We’re the ones to whom the gods will show special favor. (turning toward Sthenoboea) Sthenoboea, it’s time to carry out their wishes. Give me the knife. STHENOBOEA Just Heaven, it’s all over. Ismene, where’s your help?

96 FRANÇOISE PASCAL (Having given him the knife, she faints and falls down the steps of the altar; her attendants pick her up.) ALCYONE O shocking disgrace!

1540

THYMOETES (turning around) Why, what is wrong with Sthenoboea?

ALCYONE She has fainted. (Thymoetes comes down from the altar to aid Sthenoboea, and Endymion remains alone, still on his knees.)

1545

THYMOETES Good gods, what a misfortune! What a day is this! Diana, is this how your wishes will be fulfilled? Or rather, must we give you two victims today? Albanian people, by your crimes you’re causing The death of Sthenoboea, after so much rash talk That I have had so much difficulty stopping. But, O gods, she is dying! Her fading vision Plainly shows that …

ENDYMION I see this fair maiden dying. Ah, goddess, at least spare this lovely creature; 1550 Do not cause her to die for so slight a reason. Just because she felt sorry for me, you deem her Criminal? You shroud this sun in an endless cloud.40 (Endymion sees Diana descending from the skies in a chariot drawn by white horses.) But, Thymoetes, come now; you must come beforehand. The goddess appears and I am still alive. 1555 She will get angry.

40. What happens to Sthenoboea is never made clear. In Gombauld’s novel, she does in fact die to appease Diana: laid on the grass behind the altar after she has fainted, she is bitten by a poisonous snake. She will meet Endymion again in Hades, but she will have to stay there, whereas Endymion will return to earth.

Endymion 97 THYMOETES (giving him the knife) Take this blade, my son; You yourself will best be able to end your life.



ENDYMION That’s true, Thymoetes; you cannot doubt that, And Diana finally will be contented.

DIANA (slowly descending onto the altar) Endymion, I am contented. 1560 Put down that murderous blade. I know What’s in your heart too well for you To think that I could ever make An attempt on your fair life, which charms so many hearts. What you wish is so known to me 1565 That I have come down to this place To finish your cruelly prolonged misfortunes.41

1570

ENDYMION Ah, Diana, those misfortunes are too well rewarded, Since I can now enjoy your gentle presence. O favorable goddess, after what I’ve seen I can only doubt whether I’m indeed myself.

DIANA Yes, I’m the one who has come to tell you That all these people here are shadows, That they have nothing truly human; (The people gradually fade away.) Since they have seen me thus descend, 1575 My approach caused them to start running away. So realize by what magic power You’ve seen yourself at an execution That you see vanish at last before your eyes.

1580

ENDYMION Goddess, this mystery is unfathomable, And I even feel I’m too much in your debt,

41. I have found no other cases in drama of the period where a strophic poem (Diana’s speeches in this scene) is interrupted by passages in the regular verse format of alexandrines in rhyming couplets (Endymion’s speeches).

98 FRANÇOISE PASCAL 1585

Without daring to ask who put me in this place, Which, but for your arrival, was so dangerous For me. But what do I say, goddess? Dying for Your glory, I was more content than can be believed. For finally you know whether I’ve complained And whether I’ve faced death with unflinching courage.

DIANA I know exactly how you thought; I know what your true feelings are; And it is through magical spells 1590 That all these things have taken place, Ever since your senses were dulled by deep slumber Through the sovereign commandment that The famed Ismene received for it, Which shows that her magic’s powerful indeed. 1595 But let us have no more delay; Come take your place here by my side. I thus repay your loyalty. You alone will have this favored status. After I’ve shown you the celestial palaces, 1600 You will further behold the place That Diana in her special kindness Will one day give you, after you’ve so wished for it.



ENDYMION (entering the chariot) Ah, goddess, it’s too much. Should such slight services Get everlasting delights as their reward?42

1605 1610

ISMENE (seeing Endymion ascend [with Diana in her chariot]) Go off, dear Endymion, to that glorious Abode that your innocent love has made you earn. No longer be amazed by so many strange things, For the gods are going to change your thorns to roses. And stop accusing me of having bewitched you, Since I’m the one who engineered your bliss. Your misfortunes were unreal, since they were just in dreams.

42. This is his third declaration of modesty. Paradoxically, as with Christian saints, Endymion must sincerely deny that he is worthy of eternal bliss in order to prove that he really is worthy of it.

Endymion 99

But finally your pleasures will be no illusion.43 END

43. Since Diana must still keep her passion secret, in her capacity as goddess of night and of chastity, Pascal cannot end her play with a grand apotheosis celebration, as happens in most machine plays with happy endings. Endymion will receive his place in heaven only at some future date, though Ismene confirms that the promise will be fulfilled. In Gombauld’s novel, there is no happy ending, and the hero must awake from his prolonged slumber and rejoin the real world.

Marie-Catherine Desjardins (Mme de Villedieu) Biography The author who called herself Mme de Villedieu is now considered a pivotal figure in the history of French women writers and in the development of the French novel. Part of the first generation to see a substantial number of professional women writers, she stands out as the most commercially successful and the most critically acclaimed. Among her major honors, she was the first French woman playwright to have a play staged by a professional company in Paris, to get a command performance at court, and to receive a royal pension based on her literary achievements. Marie-Catherine Desjardins was born in 1640, probably in Paris.1 Her father, Guillaume, although descended from the lower ranks of the nobility, was virtually penniless, and it was not until he acquired influential protectors through marriage to the lady-in-waiting of the Duchess de Rohan-Montbazon that he finally managed to secure a government position. Around 1650 Guillaume moved his family to Alençon, his native city, probably due to the chaos of the civil war, but his financial situation did not improve. He was an ambitious man whose desire for titles and property far outstripped his income and who seems to have totally squandered his wife’s dowry. In 1655 the wife obtained a legal and financial separation and took her two daughters back to Paris. Marie-Catherine was soon introduced to her mother’s former employer, and, once her poetic talent was discovered, she was warmly received by many of the leading salons of the day. The support of cultivated aristocrats and well-known men of letters would greatly assist her in developing a literary career. Villedieu’s fame first spread beyond salon circles in 1660 when, at the request of a noble friend, Mme de Morangis, she wrote a witty summary, in a mixture of verse and prose, of Molière’s recent comedy, Les Précieuses ridicules [The Ridiculous Blue-stockings]. Many copies were circulated in manuscript, and one 1. Recent scholarship has disproved the huge amount of misinformation that has circulated about her over the centuries. Contrary to what is sometimes reported, she was not born in 1632, her given names did not include Hortense, she was not married three times, she was not an actress in Molière’s company, and she did not lead a life of debauchery. The best general study of her life and works is Micheline Cuénin, Roman et société sous Louis XIV: Madame de Villedieu (Marie-Catherine Desjardins, 1640– 1683) (Paris: Champion, 1979). The best overall study in English is Bruce Archer Morrissette, The Life and Works of Marie-Catherine Desjardins (Mme de Villedieu), 1632–1683 (St. Louis: Washington University Press, 1947), but it contains many inaccuracies and the analysis has been largely superseded by subsequent criticism. On her choice of names for her authorial persona, see Nathalie Grande and Edwige Keller-Rahbé’s article, “Villedieu, ou les avatars d’un nom d’écrivain(e),” in their collection, Madame de Villedieu ou les audaces du roman (Paris: Champion, 2007), 5–32.

101

102 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) of them found its way to a printer. Faced with pirated editions bearing her name, the young author had no choice but to issue an authorized edition. She chose to work with the eminent publisher Claude Barbin, who would serve as her literary agent and her principal editor for the rest of her life. After publishing a collection of her poems in 1662, Barbin encouraged her to write novels, and she would produce some twenty volumes of fiction, starting in 1661. Curiously, Barbin, who issued virtually all her prose writings, was less interested in publishing her dramatic works. Although he obtained official permission to publish her first two plays, he transferred the privilege to another publisher, Gabriel Quinet (who frequently published new plays), and for her third play Villedieu decided to apply for the privilege herself. (The practice of transferring or sharing privileges among two or more publishers was by no means uncommon, especially for texts not deemed to be especially lucrative.) Nonetheless, the relationship between Villedieu and Barbin was so close that the latter’s widow, Marie Cochard, who had taken over the business, felt authorized to issue a multivolume collection of Villedieu’s works that appeared posthumously in 1702. Because Villedieu aimed to support herself through her writing, she paid close attention to shifts in public taste and did not hesitate to experiment with a variety of styles, techniques, and formats, both in her fiction and her plays. Indeed, it is likely that she chose early in her career to compose plays because of the widely held view that drama was the most prestigious branch of literature. In this endeavor, she received valuable advice and encouragement from her literary mentor, abbé d’Aubignac, and it was probably he who arranged to have her first play, Manlius, performed at the Hôtel de Bourgogne, where it achieved a moderate success in 1662. The work gained additional attention when it was cited repeatedly in the course of an acrimonious quarrel that pitted the irascible d’Aubignac against France’s leading author of tragedies, Pierre Corneille, and the budding journalist, Jean Donneau de Visé. It is not clear whether she continued to work with her mentor during the composition of her two subsequent plays. Nitetis (1663) was staged at the Hôtel de Bourgogne, while Le Favori [The Favorite Minister] (1665) was staged by Molière’s company. Although from this point on she chose to concentrate on novels, which were far more lucrative, she did not definitively abandon the stage. Later in the decade, she indicated that she was planning to write an additional tragedy, though it was never completed and perhaps never even started, and there is recently discovered evidence to suggest that she was involved in drafting scenarios for a pair of opera libretti submitted to the composer Lully around 1674.2 If Villedieu needed to earn her living by her pen, it was in large part because of her family’s ongoing financial problems. Following the legal separation, 2. See Sylvain Cornic, “Madame de Villedieu librettiste?” in Madame de Villedieu et le théâtre, ed. Nathalie Grande and Edwige Keller-Rahbé (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2009), 61–71. This collection contains the most extensive analysis to date of her dramatic work.

Nitetis 103 her mother remained with limited resources, and in 1661 her father was briefly imprisoned for debt. In addition to her steady stream of publications, she hoped to assure a steady income for herself and her family by petitioning for a royal pension. Although the influential minister Hugues de Lionne (dedicatee of her third play and a long-standing admirer) made the necessary arrangements, the pension was not actually paid until 1676, and then was reduced from 1,500 to 600 pounds. The scandalous aspect of Villedieu’s life arose from her ill-fated love affair with a dashing young army officer, Antoine de Boësset de Villedieu, whom she first met around 1658. The beginnings of their romance could have come out of a novel: returning home from a ball, Antoine found himself locked out of his rooms; he knocked on his friend’s door; Marie-Catherine put him up for the night in her room, while she slept in her sister’s room; during the night he fell so gravely ill that he could not be moved for six weeks; she nursed him until he recovered; and he allegedly promised to marry her. They started to live together openly, but his wealthy and well-connected family objected to the match. Moreover, Antoine aspired to a military career and in 1663 went heavily into debt in order to purchase a captain’s commission. That year he coerced Marie-Catherine into signing a declaration that she was not married to him and never had been, presumably in hopes of pacifying his relations. However, the following year, when Marie-Catherine discovered that Antoine’s regiment had been mobilized and that he had left Paris without even notifying her, she frantically rushed to Provence (with money borrowed from Molière, who was planning to produce her third play) and managed to find him before he set sail. Antoine, perhaps believing that he would be killed in battle, agreed to sign an official, notarized statement of intent to be married. Although such a contract had binding legal force, the marriage could not take place without consent of the parents, which he knew would never come. When Antoine returned from the wars, he showed no eagerness to honor his promise of marriage, and it may well have been to force his hand that Marie-Catherine began publicly to call herself Madame de Villedieu, which she first tried to do for the premiere of Le Favori. Molière managed to dissuade her, arguing that the play had already been announced under the name of Desjardins. Early in 1667, Antoine, who needed funds at the start of another military campaign, married a wealthy heiress, and he forced Marie-Catherine to sign a new document desisting from the earlier promise of marriage. Although brokenhearted, she set off for Holland to manage a lawsuit involving the family finances, stopping along the way to visit several cities in Belgium. During her absence, Barbin published a collection of what purported to be her love letters to Antoine. Many scholars believe that the captain sold them to the publisher because he was once again in need of funds, which would have constituted a vile and particularly humiliating betrayal; others believe that the

104 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) epistolary collection was fictional and that the novelist colluded with Barbin in a charade to convince the public that the letters were real.3 In any case, the year 1667 brought her a staggering series of disasters: the deaths of her father and her lover, followed by the loss of the lawsuit in Holland. Even though her marriage to Villedieu never took place, she began as of 1668 to refer to herself in print as his widow, and his family, with whom she remained on excellent terms throughout her life, never objected. Around 1672 she spent a short time at a convent at Conflans, possibly due to bitterness and disillusionment, but she continued to write. In 1677 she married a well-to-do nobleman, Claude-Nicolas de Chaste, to whom she bore a son. When her husband died, after only sixteen months of marriage, her kind-hearted father-in-law agreed to take care of her and the child. Soon afterward she moved to Clinchemore (a family property near Alençon) in order to live with her mother, her brother, and her married sister. She died there in 1683. However, she remained a popular author for many decades after her death, as indicated by the reissuing of individual works and of collected editions, the most elaborate being the Œuvres complètes of 1720 (which in fact left out some texts and included others falsely attributed to her).

A Portrait of Female Heroism For her second play, Nitetis, Villedieu (henceforth I shall refer to her by the name by which she is remembered today, though the tragedy was published under the name Desjardins) featured two themes that had dominated tragedies of her own and the previous generations but which were shortly to fade from prominence: a successful conspiracy to destroy a tyrant and the glorification of the femme forte. In addition, this play announces the innovative, if subversive, theory of history that would be elaborated in the author’s later novels.4 It goes without saying that any playwright who wished to gain the favor of the court and to be granted a royal pension5 had to be prudent in treating a plot against a monarch. Any suggestion that monarchy was not the best form of 3. See Keller-Rahbé, “Pratiques et usages du privilège d’auteur chez Mme de Villedieu,” 90–92. 4. For further discussion of this play, see Henriette Goldwyn, “Men in Love in the Plays of Mme de Villedieu,” in A Labor of Love: Critical Reflections on the Writings of Marie-Catherine Desjardins (Mme de Villedieu), ed. Roxanne Decker Lalande (Madison, NJ: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press, 2000), 64–83; Nina Ekstein, “The Second Woman in the Theater of Villedieu,” Neophilologus 80 (1996): 213–24. See also my articles: “Melpomene Meets Women Playwrights in the Age of Louis XIV,” Neophilologus 72 (1988): 17–33; “Conspirators and Tyrants in the Plays of Villedieu,” in A Labor of Love, ed. Lalande, 31–42; “Challenges to Royal Authority in Plays by Male and Female Writers,” in Relations and Relationships in Seventeenth-Century French Literature, ed. Jennifer R. Perlmutter (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2006), 73–82. 5. The practice of granting pensions to leading writers, already practiced by Cardinal Richelieu in the previous generation, became systematic under the reign of Louis XIV, who was determined to prove

Nitetis 105 government or that kings did not rule by divine right could be viewed as subversive. The most common solutions to this problem were the following: (1) the king, though he gained power legitimately, is a monster who utterly rejects religion and the basic principles of morality (for example, Pierre Corneille’s Attila); (2) the conspirators are either wicked or misguided, and those who remain steadfastly loyal to the monarch are held up as models (for example, Thomas Corneille’s Stilicon); (3) the ruler, far from being legitimate, is a criminal usurper who must be overthrown in order to crown the legitimate heir (for example, Racine’s Athalie). Villedieu, who adopted the first of these solutions for the sole play that she designated as a tragedy, was very clever in attenuating the subversive dimension of the subject. Cambyses is a thoroughly immoral despot who defies the gods in a variety of ways: he has destroyed temples and murdered priests; he violates what a French audience considered as divinely ordained laws by instituting divorce and incest; he hypocritically invokes the gods, in whom he does not believe, in order to manipulate other people who do believe. He acts either unjustly (his rationale for the attack on Egypt is unconvincing; he puts his own brother to death on a flimsy pretext) or hastily and without bothering to ascertain the facts (he condemns his virtuous wife and her former fiancé on suspicion of adultery, though they are innocent; he commits suicide when he sees Phameine approaching with the royal guards, not realizing that they have actually been sent to rescue him). His death, though it justifies the label of tragedy given to the play, in effect constitutes a happy ending for everyone else, and it is deemed to be the work of divine providence. Moreover, just as the tyrant fully deserves his death, the conspirators are carefully cleared from blame. Cambyses alienates the loyalty of his top general, Prasitte, by putting to death Smiris, who is the general’s best friend, and by insisting on marrying Mandane, to whom Prasitte is secretly betrothed. In fact, the conspiracy episode, which was invented by the playwright, plays a limited role in the action. The plot is hastily improvised in the interval between acts 2 and 3, and both the planning and execution of it are kept off stage. Prasitte’s success in rallying his army and the citizens of the capital is almost miraculously sudden and takes the audience, as well as the other protagonists, by surprise. Even more importantly, the conspirators are spared from having to shed the tyrant’s blood, since he dies by his own hand. The denouement can thus be reconciled with the divine right theory, according to which God alone has the right to punish a monarch who seriously misbehaves. It is curious that the conspiracy episode is kept largely separate from the glorification of the title character. Nitetis is an example of the heroic woman protagonist, distinguished for both nobility of spirit and leadership ability in the public sphere. Such characters were often featured in literary works from the first and conserve France’s cultural supremacy in Europe. Villedieu and Madeleine de Scudéry were the only women writers to be so honored during the seventeenth century.

106 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) half of the seventeenth century and were often shown in the position of warrior and/or reigning queen. (The term femme forte was borrowed from the biblical book of Proverbs, which English translations usually render as “woman of valor”).6 However, the femme forte faded from prominence during the latter part of the century, at least in part because of political crises: during the regencies of two powerful queen mothers, Maria de’ Medici (mother of Louis XIII) and Anne of Austria (mother of Louis XIV) France had endured times of strife and even a full-scale civil war, and during that civil war, known by the nickname of the Fronde, several very high-ranking women took leadership roles in the rebellion against the king. As absolutist ideology came to insist increasingly that political power be restricted to males, women were encouraged, both in real life and in fiction, to devote their energies to love or to the cultural activities of the salons; henceforth they were supposed to exert political and social power only indirectly and behind the scenes. Writing at a transitional moment, Villedieu carefully crafted a compromise between the publicly active femme forte and the comparatively powerless woman relegated to the private sphere. Nitetis sees herself at first as manipulated, exploited, mistreated, and unable to control events. Married against her will, and under a false identity, to a foreign king whom she abhors, then despised and repudiated by him, she has neither the power nor the desire to demand her rights. Nevertheless, it is likely that during her married life she engaged in certain types of public activities (perhaps distributing alms or acts of religious devotion), since we are told that the common people admire her for her virtue (ll. 340–42), and it is not specified how they learned of it. Like other femmes fortes, Nitetis remains steadfastly loyal to her moral and religious principles. Among other things, she insists that a king has no right to introduce practices like incest and divorce, which she considers contrary to the will of the gods (as did Villedieu’s audience). She also maintains unshakable loyalty to a husband whom she can neither love nor esteem. The more Cambyses flouts conventional morality and flaunts his disloyalty to his wife, the more Nitetis upholds her commitment to those same moral standards, including conjugal fidelity. One indispensable feature of heroic characters is fearlessness in the face of death, and Nitetis passes the test: even when Cambyses threatens her and the man she loves with execution, she remains unmoved. Remarkably, she declares to her husband that the only thing she fears is that divine wrath will soon be visited upon him. Finally, in act 5 Nitetis gets the opportunity to act in the political sphere, and she shows that she can respond to an emergency situation quickly, resolutely, and effectively. When she learns that a revolt has broken out, that the palace guards have fled, and that Cambyses’s life is in danger, she immediately takes charge: she 6. For the role of the femme forte in French culture in this period, see Ian Maclean, Woman Triumphant: Feminism in French Literature, 1610–1652 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977), especially chapters 3 and 6.

Nitetis 107 calls back the guards, delivers a motivational speech, leads them to the tower, where she has Phameine released, appoints him as their commander, then orders them to march out to rescue the beleaguered king. Although she never takes up arms herself, it is significant that the soldiers obey all her commands without protest. It should also be noted that in the play’s final moments, the male generals, although they now control both the army and the population, do not seize power for themselves, and instead submit to the authority of Nitetis and Mandane. It is not made clear which of the two women will be crowned as Cambyses’s successor, but no one questions the legitimacy of having a female ruler. Villedieu demonstrates that exceptional women are capable of commanding and reigning, even as she deflects criticism by making her heroine devoid of ambition. Nitetis thus exemplifies a paradox: she is both active and passive, believing on the one hand that all her misfortunes are the work of the gods, to whose will she must submit, and that her decisions, once she takes an active part in events, are inspired by divine providence. As ultimate proof of her loyalty toward the husband whom she received, as she believes, from the gods, she refuses the hand of her original fiancé, Phameine, although that young man has sufficiently proven his fidelity and his submissiveness. To be sure, Nitetis could hardly be expected to contract a second marriage on the very day her husband dies, as this would be contrary to social etiquette, and she fears any action that might taint her reputation or harm her sense of selfworth. However, Mandane promises to work on convincing the widow to agree to wed the man she has always loved, thus leaving open the possibility of a fully happy ending. Villedieu may have been inspired by the denouement of Corneille’s Le Cid, where the heroine declares that duty to her family and concern for her reputation will never allow her to wed the hero Rodrigue, though she loves him, because he has slain her father in a duel; however, the king orders her to marry Rodrigue once her period of mourning is over. In both plays the scene is arranged with sufficient ambiguity to allow spectators the freedom to assume either that the marriage will take place or that it will not. The playwright thus positions herself between the tradition of pastoral and chivalric novels, where love is celebrated as the union of heroic and virtuous souls, and that of psychological novels, like those of Lafayette, Catherine Bernard, and Villedieu herself, where love is presented as a dangerous and destabilizing force and where happiness (or at least peace of mind) can come only from renouncing passion. In any case, it is significant that Villedieu avoids making her heroine a figure of absolute pathos. Nitetis never experiences any internal conflict during the course of the play, though she admits to having experienced one in the past, and her unswerving adherence to her duty and moral principles make her look rigid, especially in the final act. The playwright, by making her heroine a model of moral perfection, aimed at producing the maximum amount of contrast between her and her almost diabolical husband.

108 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) A number of recent studies have demonstrated how, during the second half of the seventeenth century, the rise of the memoir and of the historical novel helped to reshape the French understanding of history. Moving away from the traditional reductive view of history as nothing more than a dignified chronicle of the deeds of great men, especially in the areas of war and politics, with little or no attention paid to the role of women, writers of Villedieu’s generation expressed a far more cynical and realistic perspective. They believed that official history may be little more than propaganda (and during the reign of Louis XIV that was increasingly the case), that actions proclaimed as glorious and heroic may be overrated and not always performed for admirable reasons, that the private lives of powerful people tend to play a far greater role in their decisions than is publicly acknowledged, that women are capable of as much heroism and virtue as men, and that the women often surpass them, while receiving inadequate recognition. Villedieu was one of the pioneers of the new brand of historical fiction, in which the celebrated actions of great men are shown to have been motivated by the vicissitudes of their love lives. The novelists of that school, many of whom were women, did not consider their enterprise as a falsification of history, even if they admitted that the love plots in their books were in many cases invented out of whole cloth. They argued (and Villedieu was especially outspoken about this in her prefaces) that human nature is the same in all periods and that all people are subject to the power of love. Their fictions thus represent what the great men of the past probably did and felt, even if the true details of their private lives were not preserved. Thus, in her collections of novellas based on history, including what is considered to be her greatest achievement, Les Désordres de l’amour [The Disturbances Caused by Love] (1675), Villedieu gave women a pivotal role in the heroic actions of famous men and proclaimed that those men pursued glory and achieved their fame primarily because of their love lives.7 It is significant that Villedieu associated this approach to the rewriting of history with galanterie. Indeed, some form of that term occurs frequently in the titles of her works of fiction: Cléonice ou le Roman galant (1668), Annales galantes (1670), Les Galanteries grenadines (1672), and Annales galantes de Grèce (1687, posthumous). The impact of galanterie is found not just in the transformation of historical material, but also in the style (use of intercalated poems, letters, and maxims, the last often in verse), the presentation (collecting multiple historical novellas into one volume, rather than issuing them separately, and thus ensuring diversity for the reader), and the choice of settings (mostly taken from ancient 7. See Faith E. Beasley, Revising Memory: Women’s Fiction and Memoirs in Seventeenth-Century France (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1990), especially chapters 1 and 4. See also Joan DeJean, Tender Geographies: Women and the Origins of the Novel in France (New York: Columbia University Press, 1991); Madame de Villedieu romancière: Nouvelles perspectives de recherche, ed. Edwige KellerRahbé (Lyon: Presses Universitaires de Lyon, 2004); Madame de Villedieu ou les audaces du roman, ed. Grande and Keller-Rahbé.

Nitetis 109 or medieval history, and from various parts of the world, including such exotic locales as Moorish Spain). At the same time, the expressions of love and rituals of courtship are modeled after the aristocratic practices of seventeenth-century France, as if to indicate that similar emotions give rise to similar behavior, regardless of time and place. Thus, for example, the aristocratic pastimes and spectacular court festivities that she describes as happening at the court of Granada were directly modeled on life at the French court under Louis XIV.8 Nitetis, although composed during the earlier part of Villedieu’s career, before she turned to historical fiction, displays the same conception of history that would characterize her novellas. It is love that impels Cambyses to perform some of the actions that would make him an infamous figure in the history books: it is because of his illicit passion for his sister Mandane that he insists on legalizing the practice of incest, and he orders the execution of his own brother only because the latter opposes the proposed incestuous union. The tyrant may be odious, but his passion for his sister is sincere and all-consuming; he even claims that he has made painful efforts to resist it. Similarly, it is love that impels Phameine, languishing in prison and believing himself to be condemned to death, to wish to speak one last time to the woman he loves, and that interview sets in motion a surprising series of events that will lead to the king’s death at the end of the play. Prasitte’s rebellion against the tyrannical king is also in large part motivated by love, since he is determined to save his beloved Mandane from a forced marriage to her brother, although a second powerful reason is to avenge the death of his best friend. On the other hand, the female leads, Mandane and Nitetis, manage to place duty consistently over love. They never aspire to a political role and are even prepared to sacrifice their happiness and their lives for the welfare of the realm, yet they are also capable of confronting the men and of giving orders, if needed. They display more determination and more intelligence than the male leads, and they never betray their moral convictions. In a heroic world where the contrast between virtue and vice takes center stage, they are the true exemplary figures.

Rewriting of History The principal source for Nitetis is the Greek historian Herodotus’s History (book 3).9 Cambyses II, who ruled over the Persians for seven years and five months (529–21 BCE), was far from rivaling the brilliant career of his father, Cyrus the Great. He was powerful enough to retain all the lands conquered by Cyrus and even managed to conquer Egypt, where he established the 27th dynasty. But 8. See Edwige Keller-Rahbé’s introduction to her edition of Les Galanteries grenadines (Saint-Etienne: Publications de l’Université de Saint-Etienne, 2006). 9. Herodotus, The History, trans. David Grene (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987). Further references to Herodotus are to book III and paragraph numbers of the History.

110 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) Cambyses had no talent for strategy or for the preparation of campaigns. His lone success, the campaign in Egypt, was largely due to useful advice provided by a clever deserter, and his subsequent campaigns in Africa were all disastrous. He was so violent and irrational that many people in his own time considered him insane. He scandalized his subjects with innumerable acts of impiety, which included profaning or burning temples, mutilating a calf that the Egyptians regarded as a god, mistreating priests, and preventing conquered peoples from observing their traditional festivals. He legalized incest, which had always been forbidden among the Persians, and married two of his own sisters. He exercised cruelty even against his own family: he had his brother Smerdis assassinated, and he executed the younger sister whom he had married when she objected to the murder of their brother. Villedieu, obligated to follow the three unities in her play, followed the practices used by her predecessors in adapting history. She took major liberties with chronology, placing on the same day a number of events that according to history occurred at different times, such as the first incestuous marriage, the murder of Smerdis, and the death of Cambyses. The king commits suicide, rather than mortally wounding himself in an accident, and he dies immediately, rather than three painful weeks later. Thanks to his unexpected demise, the incestuous marriage is averted. In order to present the appearance of a happy ending and not overload her final act, Villedieu does not even hint that the king’s place would shortly be filled by an impostor who strongly resembled the murdered Smerdis and who bore (or usurped) his name. Herodotus says little about the historical Nitetis. This daughter of the Egyptian king Apries, and the sole member of the royal family whose life was spared by the usurper Amasis, was never betrothed to the latter’s son. Cambyses, seeking a diplomatic alliance with Egypt, offered to marry Amasis’s daughter. But the Egyptian ruler, unwilling to part with his daughter and perhaps fearing that the Persian king intended to make her his mistress, rather than his wife, secretly substituted Nitetis for her. When Nitetis revealed the truth to her husband after the wedding, Cambyses used the deception as a pretext to invade Egypt. Herodotus does not mention her again after that episode. Arguably the most important revision of history was the playwright’s choice to focus on the obscure Nitetis rather than the comparatively well-known Cambyses, despite the fact that it is the death of Cambyses that justifies the label of tragedy. Whereas Cambyses achieved at least a few political and military successes, his wife is not known for any action at all in the public sphere. Herodotus describes her as tall and beautiful and shows her behavior as truthful and honorable, but that is all we learn about her. Villedieu presents in Nitetis a vision of heroism characterized by personal integrity, a sense of self-worth, tenacious adherence to moral standards, and willingness to take charge in emergencies—all of which

Nitetis 111 could be done by a woman of high rank without violating standards of decorum. The play constitutes secret history in that Nitetis displays her heroic conduct out of the public eye and would not think of advertising her deeds and values. At the same time, Villedieu devalues the official accomplishments of Cambyses: his reign, though prosperous for the most part, is tainted by the introduction of immoral practices, while his recent Egyptian campaign is marred by his numerous acts of sacrilege and mistreatment of captives. The playwright clearly indicates that men’s exploits are not always as glorious as they would appear from public accounts of them. Even the widespread belief that nobility of spirit and action is inherited through noble blood, and that royal greatness is similarly transmitted, is called into question in this play. Cyrus the Great (who, incidentally, was the protagonist of Madeleine de Scudéry’s recent best-selling heroic novel, Artamène, ou le Grand Cyrus)10 continues to be held up as a model for heroes and kings, but his son Cambyses has inherited none of his good qualities, as his critics within the play periodically note (ll. 200, 248, 520) or as he himself ironically admits (l. 1108). This suggestion that hereditary succession may not represent the will of the gods is one of the play’s more subversive messages, though Villedieu, like her contemporaries Corneille and Racine, shifts some of the blame onto a wicked advisor and shows how in some cases an uncontrollable amorous passion can counteract heroic instincts and virtuous upbringing.

Performance History On April 27, 1663, the Hôtel de Bourgogne troupe staged Nitetis, eleven months after producing Villedieu’s first play, Manlius. Jean Loret, author of a popular verse gazette that regularly provided information about theatrical productions in the capital, reviewed the play very favorably, praising its galant style and its mixture of gentle and energetic passages, and stating that highly intelligent spectators had been pleased by it (letter of April 28, 1663). However, Tallemant des Réaux, author of a collection of anecdotes about famous people, claimed that Villedieu’s second play was even less successful than her first. It is difficult to ascertain how much faith one should put in these judgments from the period, since Tallemant had a low opinion of Villedieu in general, while Loret was the brother-in-law of her lover, Antoine de Villedieu. In any case, we have no more information from the period, with the exception of a brief mention from the playwright’s mentor, d’Aubignac. His pamphlet entitled Dissertation sur Sertorius, published in March of 1663 (a month before the premiere of Nitetis), was mainly devoted to an attack 10. Villedieu’s choice of the name Mandane for Cambyses’s sister was probably inspired by Scudéry’s novel, in which the princess Mandane is the beloved of Cyrus. In Herodotus, Mandane is the name of Cyrus’s mother. As for the sisters whom Cambyses marries, Herodotus gives no name to the one he kills; the other one, who survives him, is named Atossa.

112 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) on a recent tragedy by his nemesis, Pierre Corneille. But he also promised that the new play by his protégée would prove that the criticisms made against Manlius by the young journalist and future playwright Donneau de Visé were unfounded. One way to gauge the success of a play is the number of performances in the initial run, but this is unknown for Nitetis, and there is no evidence that the tragedy was ever revived. As for the comparative success of Villedieu’s first two plays, it may be significant that Manlius was published six months after the premiere, whereas Nitetis was published almost eight months after. It was common practice during the first half of the seventeenth century to delay the printing of a successful play until the conclusion of the initial run, because once a play was printed, any other troupe could stage it; the delay in printing guaranteed in effect a short-term monopoly for the troupe that created the work. Given the amount of time that elapsed between the stage productions of Manlius and Nitetis and their publication, it would appear that both plays were at least moderately well received. The achevé d’imprimer (date when the printing process was completed) for the latter play is listed as 19 December, 1663. (The date on the title page is 1664, but such minor discrepancies were not uncommon in the period.) One thing, however, is certain: Nitetis so strongly pleased its dedicatee, the Duke de Saint-Aignan, that he would arrange the unprecedented honor of a court performance for her third and final play, Le Favori, on June 13, 1665.

NITETIS TRAGEDY CHARACTERS CAMBYSES SMIRIS NITETIS MANDANE PHAMEINE PRASITTE PREDASPE MIREINE BARSINE HYDASPE GUARDS

king of Persia brother of the king11 queen of Persia sister of the king prince of Egypt, a captive [general], suitor of Mandane12 captain of the king’s guards companion to Nitetis confidante to Mandane [another captain of the king’s guards]13

The setting is the royal palace in Ecbatana.14

11. Villedieu has altered this name from the original Smerdis, presumably for reasons of euphony. The same remark applies to Phameine (originally Psammenitus). 12. Though this character is invented, the name may have been derived from Patizeithes, the magus whom Cambyses designated to govern in his absence (and brother of the impostor Smerdis, who would succeed Cambyses). 13. Hydaspes is actually the name of a river. Villedieu substituted this name, presumably again for reasons of euphony, for that of the satrap Hystaspes, an ally of Cyrus and father of the future king Darius I. 14. There were two cities of this name: a large city in Media and a small city in Syria. The former, though important for Persian kings, was never their capital. Cambyses established his court in Susa, and it is there that he had his brother Smerdis murdered. According to Herodotus, Cambyses misunderstood a prophecy stating that he would die in Ecbatana. He assumed that the city in question was the large one where he stored his treasures (and thus he would die old and prosperous), but in fact it was the Syrian city of the same name where, while encamped with his army, he accidentally wounded himself and died (III.64).

113

114 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) [FIRST DEDICATORY EPISTLE] TO MILORD THE DUKE DE SAINT-AIGNAN, PEER OF FRANCE, Chevalier of the King’s Order, First Gentleman of the Bedchamber, Governor and Lieutenant General for His Majesty in his province of Touraine.15 MILORD, The letter that you did me the honor of writing me seemed to me so kind that I believed I could not properly reply to it except with a full-length poetic work. And even though the queen mother’s illness made this work unfortunate enough to make me believe that it is going to ask for your protection, it is, however, quite true that it is only for the purpose of acquitting myself toward you that Nitetis is taking the liberty of paying you a visit. Do not expect from her any formal speech or panegyric; I have not given her the instruction needed to address you in the style of the majority of our poets. And since I know that, however illustrious your ancestors were, you infinitely surpass them, she will speak to you neither of the nobility of your race nor of the worthiness of your official positions. You are far better known by your actions than you could possibly be by the praises in a dedicatory epistle, and I would consider Nitetis too foolhardy if she undertook to add something to the glory you already possess. So she will content herself with telling you that she devotes herself to you with her whole heart, and that if she does not have enough merit to make you accept this gift joyfully, she will always be only too proud if she can display to you to what point I am, MILORD, Your most humble and most obedient servant, DESJARDINS

15. François de Beauvillier, Count, later Duke de Saint-Aignan (1610–87), was the king’s principal organizer of court festivals. He dabbled in writing, publishing short poems, and was elected to the French Academy in 1663. A great patron of letters, who likewise encouraged the king to support literary endeavors, he was the dedicatee of numerous works. Being a great admirer of Villedieu, SaintAignan arranged in 1665 to have her next play staged before the king and court at Versailles. As with the dedication of Endymion, it is imagined that the protagonist has stepped out of the play to visit and thank the dedicatee.

Nitetis 115 [SECOND DEDICATORY EPISTLE] TO MILORD THE DUKE DE SAINT-AIGNAN. LETTER.

MILORD, I am, Your most humble and most obedient servant, DESJARDINS. Seeing this name, I beg, keep on reading.16 This is no petition for the king, No dedication, no new poem, Nor anything connected to your functions. It seems to me already that I see some person from the distinguished scholars, (For it’s known that in your house one always sees All the renowned men of our age) Express his shock at this beginning And say with heated indignation, “What a violation of convention! Good Heaven! What a great disorder! What! Overturn the fine, harmonious pattern That Voiture and Balzac laid out in their writings!17 And what will all the Academy say? What will all the refined wits have to say? As for me, I can’t keep silent on this, And I say, to speak frankly and plainly: In the epistolary form A letter of this sort is a monster.” I agree on this score with that learned gentleman. It is true, brave and noble-hearted duke, that the Republic of Letters ought, according to proper policy, sentence me to pay a fine. But I believed that it was less dangerous for me to incur the risk of that penalty than to let you mistake this love-missive for a bird of ill omen.18 You are exposed to so many bothersome requests, That the better to avoid any prejudging, 16. The mixture of prose and verse within a single text was often featured in the galant style associated with the salons; it was especially popular during the second half of the seventeenth century. (The nonindented lines are prose; the verse lines, rhymed in the original, are of varying length.) 17. Vincent Voiture (1597–1648) and Jean-Louis Guez de Balzac (1597–1654), the most esteemed letter writers of the era, were constantly cited as models of elegant and witty style. 18. There is a pun in the French, since the term for love-note, “poulet,” literally means “chicken.”

116 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) I at once put my name at the top, For it’s well known that on petitions Desjardins is not a name to be wary of. Although I have but little wealth And a poet’s word is rarely credited, As soon as anywhere you read that it is I, Seeing this name, I beg, keep on reading. Indeed, milord, this is nothing more than a very humble expression of thanks for the kindness that you showed me at Versailles, and a sincere declaration that I feel infinitely grateful for it and that I will make every possible effort to make myself worthy of it. I know that the task is no small one, and since your esteem is very glorious for those who possess it, it is hard to obtain. But, milord, I believe I can dare anything when I think to what degree I am What I took the liberty of declaring to you at the start of this letter.

Act I (Enter Nitetis and Mireine.)



NITETIS So Cambyses dares commit such unjust acts?

5

MIREINE Yes, madam. A religious ceremony is Prepared, and to take his crown and hand from you, The king, they say, will wait just till tomorrow. Everyone condemns this madness, pitying you And shuddering at such a fatal marriage. They all say loudly that the king will perish, But despite that, they will finally allow it.



NITETIS Of the woes my spirit dreads that is the least.

10

MIREINE However, the loss appears quite great to me, And the scepter to be stripped from your Majesty Deserved, I think, to be regretted by you.

15 20 25

NITETIS To regret that scepter and shed tears for it, Mireine, it always held too little charm for me. The fairest crown is a burden to wear, when It is a present one’s forced to accept. And at all times freedom has been held so dear That anything constrained loses the right to please. Such was for me the rank that I leave today; They treated me as a slave by raising me to it, And for this false glitter of the highest greatness They stripped me of the power to rule over myself. After that, great gods, how can one be surprised To see me feel such just scorn for the throne? And you, who, more than others, must know my story, Do you find my noble views hard to believe? Mireine, do you not know my heart’s great secret And what price I have paid for my fatal greatness? 117

118 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

30 35 40

MIREINE Far from believing it was fatal for you, I thought it was the result of Heaven’s kindness. The gods, knowing that you were owed a scepter, Gave you this one to replace the one you lost. For all the world knows by what treachery Apries was deprived of crown and life,19 That once this unlucky king who was your father Had made Amasis his chief minister, That villainous favorite, that ingrate and traitor Abused the kindnesses bestowed by his master To corrupt his guards and send to execution The king, the queen, even the newborn prince. You too were thought dead; even now people think so. The chance that saved your life remains unknown.

45 50 55 60

NITETIS Then learn, Mireine; learn of this sad chance that, To save me from death, gave me something worse. Amasis, rightly judging that a throne usurped, Of which he was unworthy and which he got through crime, Had raised him too high and was insecure, Cast his eyes on me, to serve as his support. Me alone he saved from the fate of my family; He thought that by crowning the daughter he’d appease The father, that he’d silence the wandering shade By restoring to me what he took from my parents. But, so as not to lose all profit from his crimes, He formed this lawful desire tyrannically, And prepared the throne of Memphis for me solely To see his son placed on it more securely.20 Because I was thought dead and was just a child, He had free rein to execute his plan. And you can’t doubt that it was easy for him To conquer my young heart, having misled me.

19. Apries, an Egyptian king of the 26th dynasty and father of Nitetis, was dethroned by his general Ahmes (Amasis). According to Herodotus, the new king refused to put his predecessor to death, but finally, at the urging of the people, he handed over Apries to them, and they killed him. The historian says nothing about the massacre of the rest of the royal family (II.161–69). 20. Herodotus says nothing of a betrothal between Nitetis and the son of Amasis; this plot element is apparently the invention of the playwright.

Nitetis 119 65 70 75 80 85 90 95

I did not know my rank then; no one dared inform me; His son was charming; who could have preserved me? Whenever I dared heed a secret horror That often, in spite of me, would seize my heart, One kindness from Amasis, one look from Phameine Would stifle this powerless hatred as it started.21 And when, through such good looks, so many favors, My mind at last was fully blinded so that I thought my love legitimate enough, Alas, for my misfortune, I was disabused. An old magus, urged on by imprudent zeal, Cruelly informed me of so fatal a secret.22 You can gauge my grief at learning that sad story, Gauge the impact made by love and noble pride. How violently my royal blood was stirred! But, can I admit it to you? It was too late. My mind, in this uncertain, tottering state, For some days got my love and hate confused; When I thought I hated, what I felt was love. On this point my whole being helped to betray me, When Cupid, disguised the better to deceive me, Had hidden his flame under the guise of hatred, And when my weak heart, misled by this traitor, Felt inflamed as it thought it was being cured. Once my error on this score had been dispelled, I still couldn’t wish I had not been deceived, So true it is, great gods, that the power of blood Cannot prevail against a solid love. That was my mental state when the news arrived Of the progress made by rebels from a province Who, tired of suffering the burden of large tributes, Tried to free themselves through noble desperation. Their rage had already led to such great bloodshed That Amasis, to calm a storm so powerful, Promptly raised an army drawn from every side

21. The call of blood was a convention of early modern literature: a person who instinctively feels a powerful attachment to another will find out later that they are close relatives. The use of it here is atypical: Nitetis, instead of feeling attracted to a family member (all her relatives are dead), feels an instinctive aversion for the man who, as she will later learn, was responsible for the murder of her parents. 22. This episode is likewise not found in Herodotus.

120 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 100

And had his son march out against the rebels.23 I won’t tell you of my secret anxiety, How many tears I shed at his departure; By all that I have told you, try to guess it, And spare me, Mireine, from telling things so dreadful. You will learn all too well how deadly it is If I can bring myself to tell you the sequel, And let you know that, when he left that place, The farewell I bade him was the final one.

105

MIREINE What? The man locked up in the adjacent tower And whom Cambyses captured is someone else?

110 115 120 125

NITETIS It’s the same Phameine, and the fate that crushes me Today would be gentler for me, were it not he. Learn, finally, learn my sad destiny. Amasis promised him that we’d be wed; He left assured that, once he returned the victor, He’d see his glory and his love both crowned, And with this flattering hope spurring on his courage, His arm brought dread and carnage everywhere. His first battle and his early triumphs made him At once the equal of the most famous warriors. But, O gods, what use were so much glory and fortune Since Cambyses snatched away the fruit of his victory? For it was at that time that his ambassadors Informed the tyrant, to shower him with honors, That the Persians sought their queen in his family And that their king wished an alliance through his daughter. You know that the girl died; her death was hushed up; And since the ambassadors did not know her, Amasis forced me to go take her place, And that’s what caused his ultimate disgrace, For Cambyses later learned of his deception

23. The identity of this rebellious province is unclear. Herodotus mentions no such revolt during the reign of Amasis. Villedieu may have invented this war to attribute military prowess to Phameine, who for most of the play is a powerless prisoner.

Nitetis 121 130 135

And thought all means were allowed to take revenge.24 You know his fury was unparalleled, That he did not spare our most sacred temples. He defeated Amasis, and after countless clashes Phameine was found within a pile of corpses, From which he was taken to be bound in chains.25 See inside my heart and judge its suffering: The man who attacked the gods will not spare him.26 I know my duty but I fear this death, And despite the bond that links me to Cambyses I think this just fear is allowable.

140 145 150

MIREINE Yes, no doubt, madam, and for such a husband Virtue itself would surely do less than you. I was so young when I became your servant That the important secret of your origin Could not be entrusted to my discretion. Love likes to use disguise and take precautions. A mystery like this, of such importance, Was then beyond my thoughts and my experience. And even though later we learned all too well How Cambyses had been misled by the tyrant,27 Unable to discern the actual cause, I thought Amasis’ remorse was what caused his deception. At present, when I must judge otherwise, I pity you for it, madam, still more strongly.

24. Herodotus, who gives other explanations for the Persian campaign against Egypt, prefers the version adopted here (III.1–3). 25. During the war, Amasis died and his son Psammenitus (Phameine in the play) became king, but his reign lasted only six months. According to Herodotus, he was much older than in the play: after his defeat, Cambyses humiliated him by forcing him to see his daughter treated as a servant and his son treated as a criminal and executed. Touched by his captive’s dignity, Cambyses spared his life and treated him kindly. But when Psammenitus later showed ingratitude and fomented a revolt, Cambyses had him killed (III.10–15). 26. In Memphis Cambyses committed numerous acts of sacrilege: he raided temples, burned sacred images, killed a cow viewed as a manifestation of the god Apis, whipped the priests, and threatened with death all those who celebrated the god’s festival (Herodotus III.27–29, 37). French Catholic authors tended to view wanton attacks on any organized religion, even paganism, as acts of rebellion against the God of monotheism. 27. In the play it is unclear how Cambyses learned of the substitution of princesses; according to Herodotus, Nitetis herself revealed the truth to him (III.1).

122 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

If, about to contract a match condemned by all, By a fatal incest …



NITETIS Hush, Mandane is coming. (Enter Mandane and Smiris.)

155 160

MANDANE Have you learned, madam, to what extreme degree The king carries his crime and abuse of power? That this monster, in contempt of nature’s laws, As final outrage joins incest to faithlessness,28 And, daring to feel assured of my heart’s consent, Wants to confuse the names of spouse and sister?

165

NITETIS I know that he chose you; but that legitimate Choice didn’t seem to me to be his greatest crime; Knowing your merit, I did not protest. He can offer nothing less to your heavenly charms, And knowing that Heaven owes a crown to you, He thinks he serves the gods by giving one to you.

170 175

MANDANE Ah, stop speaking this way and know me better. This is insulting, madam, for us both. To approve an action that your heart condemns Would wound Nitetis as it wounds Mandane; And whatever results from it, women of our rank Must always show a heart sincere and frank. From now on let there be no pretense between us. I admire your virtue; I hate tyranny; I come to offer you whatever power I have. Speak out, take action, get tired of suffering. My brother Smiris has power over the young men. He offers you his aid …

28. According to Herodotus, incest was unknown among the Persians before Cambyses. After consulting his judges, who assured him that kings have the right to do whatever they please, Cambyses married his sister Atossa (who later became the wife of the impostor Smerdis, then that of Darius). He would also marry a second sister, whom he executed when she wept over the murder of their brother Smerdis (III.31–32).

Nitetis 123 SMIRIS Yes, madam. NITETIS Princess, Behold what error you are giving way to; 180 Condemning crimes, you are committing others, And since the king’s crimes seem hateful to you, You’re forming plans even less pardonable. Pay more heed to the voice of your illustrious heart, Which an unworthy rage tries to corrupt. 185 Whatever cruel acts the king thinks he’s allowed, It’s better to suffer than to dare commit them.29

190 195 200

SMIRIS This respect for Cambyses, after his betrayal, Is fine and heroic, but no longer timely. To act prudently, when ills become extreme, One must use remedies that are extreme as well. The king has just publicly proclaimed his plan: He wants to force my sister to wed him tomorrow. Since he thinks this horrid news, coming from her, Will seem to you perhaps even more cruel, She has come to tell you; without that false hope, She would not have been authorized to see you. With so urgent a crisis, what must we expect? That a god should come down to earth to save my sister, Or that a cowardly respect he no longer merits Should make us see the race of great Cyrus disgraced? No, even if my sword were my only hope, It alone will stop this marriage, or Cambyses …



NITETIS He’s here; please hide your boiling rage from him. (Enter Cambyses and Predaspe.)

29. Nitetis tends to think both like a martyr (it is glorious to suffer disgrace or death for one’s beliefs) and a proponent of French absolutism (rebellion against legitimate rulers is never permitted, no matter how tyrannical their actions; only God has the power to judge them).

124 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

205

CAMBYSES Madam, do you know your fate and my good fortune, What I’ve resolved about your destiny And what a second marriage holds for me?

NITETIS I know all your plans; the gods are my witnesses That a divorce is what I least fear from you.30 You aren’t serving your fury and you cheat your rage 210 If you think this blow can shake my resolution. Your plans are carried out too late for my taste, And this is the only order of yours I’ve liked. I’ll even reward a fury that I hold so dear, By giving you advice that’s pious and sincere: 215 Beware what awaits you from a hateful marriage. You’ve crossed the limit and weary the gods; Their justice already has ample things to punish. You have not spared their altars and their temples; If you add incest to all these outrages, 220 Know that the gods exist and fear their reach. Perhaps Heaven, weary of your countless crimes, Already separates us to choose its victims. After so many heinous and inhuman acts, You should fear vengeance, even from your own hands.31 225 Farewell. (Exeunt Nitetis and Mireine.) CAMBYSES How little I fear such empty words, And how I love defying these trifling threats! I’m nearing the happy day when perhaps the gods, Becoming envious of my perfect joy, Would give up the power of hurling thunderbolts 30. There is no mention of a divorce in Herodotus. Given that Persian kings normally had many wives (cf. Herodotus III.3), Cambyses would not have needed to divorce the first before taking a second. Like most of her contemporaries, Villedieu does not always distinguish between the customs of the various peoples of antiquity, and like most Catholic authors she believed that divorce was considered abhorrent in all periods. 31. According to literary convention, virtuous characters about to die (or in this case, who assume that they will shortly be executed) are often endowed with prophetic powers. In the final act, Cambyses will indeed take his own life.

Nitetis 125 230

To taste the pleasure I await on earth.32

235 240 245

MANDANE Keep more respect for the heavenly powers and Moderate the excess of this vanity. The less we expect the blow, the more it stuns us; A thunderbolt can smash the fairest crown, And the secrets of the gods who disturb our plans Cannot be fathomed by weak human beings. Perhaps by an effect of their supreme power The greatest obstacle will arise from you,33 And if that’s not enough, it will arise from me. For you are my king, but I am your sister, And if I’m the slightest bit resistant to Your plans, a brother’s power is limited. Accept this truth as a law upon yourself; Feel less assured of one who’s her own mistress. Attempt no act when you should fear its outcome; Give your desires more equitable limits, And do not force me, by making me refuse, To show you that Mandane is Cyrus’ child. Farewell, I’ll let you ponder this. (Exeunt Mandane and Smiris.)

CAMBYSES What arrogance! 250 To defy my laws and power with impunity, To dare give way even to threats, and show Hate for a passion that offers her a crown! Predaspe, what say you of such audacity?

255

PREDASPE She does what any woman would do in her place: She managed to charm you, she finds you submissive, In her pride she takes advantage, goes too far.

32. Making hyperbolic boasts that the gods would envy the lot of mortal kings was typical of wicked characters in Renaissance tragedies. But by the mid-seventeenth century such blasphemous statements were rarely featured, since theorists deemed them a violation of dramatic decorum. An audience in the 1660s would have found this speech shocking. 33. Another unconscious prophecy of Cambyses’s suicide later in the play.

126 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 260 265 270

I’ve already told you, sir, your tenderness Is spoiling this rebellious, too vain princess. The woman who defies and scorns you, as a suitor, Would speak differently if you behaved as king. When one wants to overcome an audacious spirit, It’s always dangerous to act too gently; To uphold the laws one needs armed force, and if A king doesn’t thunder people scorn his voice. You have tried clemency to no effect; Try what a bit of violence can achieve. When you deign to beg, your vows of love are scorned. Change your tone, sir, and tell her: I insist. For just one day show by some sign that one Can be at the same time both king and lover, And that the youthful god whose fire you feel Doesn’t snatch away a scepter as he inflames a heart.

275 280 285

CAMBYSES When the gods allotted us the scepter, they Did not design for love such thunderous language. Cupid can shoot his arrows with such skill That even crowns are weak ramparts against them. This absolute power, this vast authority, This supreme greatness, this full independence, In short, these gifts of Heaven, which make all people say That kings are the images of gods on earth, Are empty shadows when one’s with a beloved, If they lack the power to gain her tenderness. To love properly, a genuine lover must Restrict his great pomp and his vast display, And the greatest king, next to the one he loves, Rarely recalls the rights his crown confers.34

290

PREDASPE Well then, forget about those lawful rights, And sacrifice your rank and laws to Cupid. Whatever you undertake, I won’t condemn. But think only of this: you love Mandane, You’re entitled to her, and to acquire her you

34. This declaration of genuine love, inspired by the galant tradition, helps to humanize an otherwise odious character.

Nitetis 127 295 300 305 310

Must both command and make yourself obeyed. For after so much attention, respect and ardor, To hope that love for you can touch her heart, And that chance can accomplish in one moment What you’ve tried in vain for two years to achieve, That’s hoping too much from your destiny. It would be better, sir, to go through with the marriage, To force her as a duty to feel for you What one ought to feel for an illustrious husband. Hurry and wed her; then, despite her protests, Time and her virtue will bring about the rest. If I can dare say more to your Majesty, This great act is vital to your security. The prince always had a proud and haughty spirit; He’s daring; he obeys you grudgingly; If I observed aright his gestures just now, He’s urging Mandane to rebel against you. During your conversation he seemed delighted; He encouraged her with looks, then followed her. Either I’ve misinterpreted what they’ve resolved, Or else you need to show your absolute power.

315 320

CAMBYSES It’s settled; I accept this faithful counsel. On countless occasions I’ve recognized your zeal. Having done so well by following your faithful Advice, there’s no point not to do so now. Through your prudent counsel Egypt fell prey to me;35 I agree to owe you all my joy once more; And though it should cost my life, before day’s end My sister shall satisfy my rage or my love.

Act II (Enter Smiris and Prasitte.)



SMIRIS My dear Prasitte, let’s go and find the queen; Let’s stir her noble heart, incite her hatred,

35. According to Herodotus, Prexaspes (Predaspe) was Cambyses’s closest confidant (III.30), but the historian says nothing of his advice at the time of the expedition against Egypt.

128 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

And let’s oblige her, through glory or ambition, To serve two causes: your passion and the state.

325 330

PRASITTE I’m much obliged, sir, for your eagerness to help me. The same intent had led me to her rooms, But she is busy, and I have just learned That we cannot see her any time today. Ah, sir, there is no remedy for my problem. The king desires my princess; I must yield her to him. Who here below can oppose what he decrees? He can count a hundred kings among his subjects. His power has made his desires legitimate; In that state who can destroy him?

SMIRIS His crimes can. 335 Yes, the Persians, ashamed of tolerating them, Seek only a pretext to throw off the yoke. He himself provides it through this dreadful incest. Merely on hearing of such a horrid marriage, All the people of Ecbatana are alarmed. 340 Since they have always been charmed by Nitetis, And recognized her as uncommonly noble, All virtuous souls grieve for her evil fortune. Also, my sister loves you, hates the king. She’s sincere and loyal, and you have her promise; 345 I know that you two were betrothed in secret; And were she suspected of inconstancy, A hundred crowns at that price would not tempt her. Hoping to speak to the queen, she followed me, So try … But here she is. (Enter Mandane and Barsine.) Come, madam, come 350 To restore, if possible, calm to this man’s soul; He fears you’ll break faith with him despite his merit, When he dares think on the rank held by the king.



MANDANE Prasitte, think better of a princess’ heart; My own virtue is linked to aiding your distress.

Nitetis 129 355 360 365 370

All this glitter and pomp have nothing new to offer To someone who’s seen them since birth, undazzled. And even if the innocent and noble passion Which has burned for such a long time in my heart Had too feeble a power against Cambyses, My noble blood, prince, would make me do my duty; It flows from a source too pure to make one fear That I’d marry at the cost of breaking faith. Prasitte, I love you, and this last declaration Guarantees my ardor even unto the grave. Once a noble heart, by a decree that’s written In the stars, is forced to yield to merit, And after long defending itself in vain It finally surrenders to the charms of love, To be sure of it the whole time of one’s life, It’s enough that the mouth has declared it just one time. And with lovers such as you and me, a single Obliging word means pledging fidelity.36 Upon this basis, then, expect that my passion will Make me refuse Cambyses.

PRASITTE Yet must I, madam? 375 Can Prasitte see you make this obliging refusal That, for his sake, snatches Cyrus’ throne from you? What can I offer you that’s worth a crown? If this pomp and splendor, this ultimate grandeur, These pleasures that arise from a flock of courtiers 380 Could be united with the most intense love, I swear by the god who hurls the thunderbolt That I alone am worth as much as world dominion. But O gods! If this love cannot give you a crown, Can it be pardoned for robbing you of one? 385 Instead, abandon the unfortunate Prasitte. Whatever despair he may be plunged into, His cruel death is only too glorious if 36. This avowal is inspired by the galant novels that were popular in the seventeenth century. A wellbred woman was supposed to be prevented from revealing the feelings of her heart by the demands of modesty, so once she openly told her beloved of her passion, this obligated both partners to perfect, lifelong fidelity. Similarly, the man was obligated by the code of chivalry to serve the interests of the woman, even at the expense of his own desires, as Prasitte will declare in the following speech.

130 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 390

It guarantees a throne to your divine charms. If future generations say about him That he loved your glory more than he loved himself, That he could have possessed you, keeping you from ruling, But that he preferred to give you up and die, He obtains in death all the riches that he hopes for; If he …

SMIRIS Judge better of both brother and sister. 395 One can lack a scepter and still not be deficient, Because, without being king, one can be a hero. These illustrious titles given to us by courage Must arise from us and not from a royal crown. Our solid glory is to merit one, 400 And does not always consist in wearing it. Besides, we all know that your illustrious birth Has placed you at not much distance from the throne, And that my sister cannot scorn your rank Without also scorning the source of her own blood. 405 If Astyages’ descendant lacks a crown, Heaven still leaves him a heritage great enough To readily marry into Cyrus’ race.37 So let’s not waste time with useless arguments. Since the king leaves us this single day to plot, 410 Let’s look for some way to break off this marriage.



PRASITTE What means, sir, can you possibly resort to? Against an absolute ruler, and a brother …

415

MANDANE To die. Yes, princes, death’s the one means left me. It alone will be able to stop this fatal marriage. A noble heart is always master of its fate, So long as Heaven allows it its choice of death. Since, thanks be to the gods, I’ve the power to die,

37. Astyages, king of the Medians, alarmed by a prophecy that the son to be born to his daughter Mandane would conquer Media and all Asia, refused to give her in marriage to any of the nobles of his realm. He finally agreed to marry her to a Persian nobleman named Cambyses (father of Cyrus and grandfather of the king in this play). A second dream warned that his grandson would usurp his throne. Cyrus fulfilled the prophecy by attacking and dethroning him (Herodotus I.107).

Nitetis 131 420

I’ve full power over myself and defy Cambyses, Whatever extreme acts he dares to commit. Princes, they who can die have naught to fear.



Ah, madam!



PRASITTE

Ah, my sister!

SMIRIS

MANDANE You turn pale. What! So this misfortune’s greater than your courage?



SMIRIS What heart, however brave, could not be shaken?



PRASITTE Who could fail to tremble for a death like that?

425 430 435

MANDANE You are two men for whom I feel great affection, You by the tie of blood, you by that of my passion. If I give up the light of day, I lose Everything that love and nature have to give. But despite this bond that makes me cling to life, I readily prefer death to disgrace. Princes, if you love me, follow my example; May crime alone have the power to make you tremble. Fear far less for my death than for my glory. And if you grant tears to my memory, Bewail my sad fate and heave sighs, you as My lover, you as my brother, both as heroes. Receive this great blow, do not act ignobly, And deserve to hear me admit my tender feelings.

440

PRASITTE There’s still a remedy, madam, for this misfortune. Cambyses does not know that I’m his rival. We’ve hidden our love from him so carefully That it’s clear he has no suspicion of it.

132 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 445

Let me secretly stir up the malcontents, And don’t act hastily while there’s still time. The people cherish you; this action angers them; They hate the king …



SMIRIS He’s here.

MANDANE I take my leave. At his approach I feel my horror increase; In its fury I might hasten to strike the blow. (Enter Cambyses.) 450

CAMBYSES I was looking for you, madam. At last the hour Has come when you must prepare … You flee my presence?



MANDANE Expecting nothing from you that I ought to hear, I can do nothing less than avoid your sight. (Exeunt Mandane and Barsine.)

455 460

CAMBYSES What, carry her insolence to such extremes! Defy me to my face, avoid my presence! And I could still delay a moment longer! No, I’m your king, though I’m your suitor too. Ingrate, it’s settled; hope for no more mercy. I’m off to take revenge, punish your boldness. I know what you fear, and my just burst of fury Will make you accept either marriage or death.38



PRASITTE Ah, sir, control your overwhelming rage.



SMIRIS Sir, one must treat Mandane a different way. Stop; she is free and of the blood of Cyrus.

38. Cambyses continues to speak to Mandane after her exit, in what is essentially an aside.

Nitetis 133

465

CAMBYSES Even were Cyrus a god, speak no more of this. The die is cast.

SMIRIS Though I risk your displeasure, I must speak to you of this despite your anger. My duty and blood bind me to you too closely To let you, sir, pursue your wrathful course, And even should my frankness make me its victim, 470 I wish, if I can, to save you from a crime. One cannot flatter you, sir, and not betray you; In short, obeying you is to destroy you. A prince who fears you far less than he loves you Distinguishes you from your crown today, 475 And less as a subject than as your good friend Tries to make your slumbering honor reawaken. What has Mandane done to you? What do you hope from her? A thing that will ever cover you with shame, An abhorrent love, a hateful marriage that 480 Would make both men and gods view you with horror.

485 490 495

CAMBYSES What’s this I hear? Great gods! Is this how, odious man, You persuade the princess to accept my homage? Does this close affection, this excessive fervor That goes beyond the duties owed to siblings, Produce a result so counter to my wishes? To conquer myself, have I done less than I Should have? Cruel man, did this love that defeats My virtue triumph over it without a fight? Countless famous examples authorize my love: A god known to all took his sister to wife;39 The Assyrians have put it in their laws; And ever since Cyrus annexed that nation I’ve established that practice so well among us That custom has legitimized this love. And yet my heart has agonized over it And declared it only when the pain almost killed me.

39. The reference is to Jupiter, king of the gods in Greco-Roman mythology, who married his sister, Juno. Critiques of paganism often focused on the immoral behavior of its chief gods.

134 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 500

What more could I have done in my piteous lot, You heartless advisor with your crushing censure? If glory really has such charms for you, Pity my misfortune, cruel man; don’t increase it. Stop hardening the princess’ mind against me; Let her pity operate, though not her love.

505 510 515 520

SMIRIS You don’t know her well. My sister the princess Needs only her own heart to resist your love. She knows that there’s no creature here on earth Who can be exempted from the laws of Nature. That power brings together, by common laws, The lowliest mortals and the greatest kings, And, using its supreme power worthily, Puts shepherds’ crooks on a par with royal crowns. Its eternal order, strict, inflexible, Forbids you, like all men, to marry your sister; And the same decree that makes kings merely men Makes them just like us on certain common points. But if I must speak frankly to you today, If I had seen that her heart, needing support, Wavered one moment on the choice it needs to make, I’d have given that support despite your anger; And if it were needed I would do still more To keep great Cyrus’ race from being corrupted.

525

CAMBYSES And I vow to Heaven that if your insolence Makes you thwart my hopes by just a single word, If you’ve the least desire to mar my happiness, Hear now the oath that my rage swears to you: Even should the whole universe, after such an outrage, Oppose the violence of my too just fury, Even should Heaven try to prevent your death, No one would save you, neither men nor gods. After these words, set limits to your boldness.

530

SMIRIS My fearless heart already foresaw your threat. Everything you tell me is what I expected

Nitetis 135 535 540

From you, and your words by no means frighten me, Knowing how utterly my soul despises you; They appear too gentle, coming from Cambyses. After this admission, you should set limits too. Seek more ignoble hearts to flatter your love; Smiris is too sincere and hates injustice too much To approve your passion through the fear of death. I was born your subject; you have total power here; But he who has no more hope has no more fear. One has everything to fear from hearts like ours, And my downfall, after all, could lead to others. Farewell, I leave it to time to inform you what A just despair is capable of inspiring. (Exit)

545 550 555 560 565

CAMBYSES What muddled murmuring has reached my ears? Gods! What have I just heard? Am I truly awake? These insolent statements, this rebellious stance, Are they not the result of some illusion? To speak to me that way, here in my palace! And Smiris is still alive? Is my rage idle Then? What unworthy pity, what lethargy Makes me delay one moment over this death? After this insolence, Cambyses, why do you wait? Ah, weak and cowardly king, run, fly to your revenge. Make this just death so cruel and so prompt that Insult and execution will be announced together; Let’s show that the crown’s rights trump everything, And that no one’s exempt, even blood relations.40 For all those subjects who despise their king Let Smiris ever serve as a thundering law. Let him show that a head one wants to grind to dust Is sooner struck the closer he is to lightning, And in short, that the scepter is, for reckless men, What Jove’s thunderbolt is for the ungodly. Let’s order this death at once.

40. According to Herodotus, Cambyses had his brother murdered because of a prophecy that he had misunderstood (the usurper who would later cause his death was a magus, also named Smerdis, and who would claim to be Cambyses’s brother). Because Cambyses ordered the killing to be done in secret, and not publicly, as his counterpart in the play wishes, the deception by the magus went undiscovered for a long time (III.30, 61–67).

136 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) PRASITTE Permit me, please, To dare oppose it. CAMBYSES Prasitte, what audacity Makes you set obstacles to my just plans? Go away, withdraw; your efforts would be useless. I owe this illustrious victim to my wrath. 570 By shielding him from me, you share in his crime: After you’ve been witness to an act of treason, Defending the criminal is a crime of state. Withdraw; farewell.





PRASITTE If I might further tell you …

No, tell me nothing. Go.

CAMBYSES

PRASITTE I now withdraw. 575 [aside] Tiger, if I today seem so submissive, It’s to save the prince’s life, or die with him. (Exit)

580 585 590

CAMBYSES (alone) He does well to obey. In my wild anger I already viewed him as my brother’s friend, And that made me find some satisfaction in Punishing one doubly through the other’s death. I know what close friends they have been since childhood; If I’d begun my vengeance with Prasitte, My rebel would have felt over that death Far greater pain than losing his own life. But since his deference lets him escape my justice, Let us invent some new torture for Smiris. My brain, get to work, increase your ingenuity; For my revenge, existing torments don’t suffice. I must find a new one so unprecedented That its horror makes the fiends tremble in hell, One that will make future centuries acknowledge

Nitetis 137

That I alone have found the way to punish. Come, guards! (Enter Guard.)

My lord.

GUARD

CAMBYSES Let sword and flame unite … [aside] But what inner agitation grips my soul? 595 A mysterious terror takes over my heart; I feel my brow covered with gloomy sweat; A deathly chill is stealing through my veins. [to the guard] Go; I want nothing. [aside] But what causes this anguish? I tremble as I command a death so just. 600 What, does punishing a rebel take such great effort? It’s true, I know, this rebel is my brother; We had the same parents … But he is so rash. Respect for his king and duty owed to a brother Have not stopped him from scorning my high rank. 605 If in offending me he could forget our kinship, Why, when punishing that offense, should I recall it? If rights, blood, laws, respect have had no power on him, Should an illusion, an unease, have power on me? Ah, no, the matter’s settled. Seductive Nature, 610 Stifle forever your untimely murmur. When absolute power, which kings jealously guard, Endeavors to steel my heart against your assault, When I pit against your rights those of the crown, You, Nature, must give way to the highest greatness. 615 Here all your power is ineffectual. There are no crimes when one defends a scepter. You depict in vain the horror of killing kinsmen. My mind’s made up; the perfidious wretch will die.41

41. In this pair of monologues, the only ones in the play, Cambyses experiences a true internal conflict. It is ironic that he temporarily recognizes the power of Nature, given that the other characters consider incest to be an offense against that primal force.

138 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

Act III (Enter Nitetis, Phameine, Mireine.)

620 625

NITETIS Phameine, can I believe what my eyes show me? Alas! Is it really you that I behold here? What demon, called up by the blackest envy, Hands over to Cambyses such a fine man’s life? Have you forgotten his rage and his high rank? And if you do recall, alas, where are you going? Why brave the king’s hate and fall into his clutches? To make your death both easy and certain, were The powers of fate and Cambyses not sufficient?

630 635 640 645 650

PHAMEINE Yes, madam; that’s why I’m beside myself. It’s because I know that I must lose my life That I can’t abide to have it snatched from me Without letting you know, in my last extremity, That Phameine remains the same as he always was. Ever since the fatal day when you were handed over To the overly blind and fortunate Cambyses, Though I’ve tried various ways to let you know Of what my just despair has done to me, Your rigid virtue, my bad luck, the warfare, Have kept me from getting the slightest news of you. At last, when I’m so soon to perish, crushed by fate, And having no more hope save for a speedy death, Inconstant destiny, tired of opposing me, Relieves my misery when I least expect it. A Persian captured in our earliest battles, And whom I, out of pity, saved from death, By good fortune became captain of my guards. He recalls my features as soon as he sees me, And believing he owes all to the man who saved his life,42 He finds the means to offer me assistance; I limit that help to getting to speak to you; And, finding this effect of his gratitude Far more necessary and more touching for me

42. Another invented episode, intended to display the kindness and valor of Phameine.

Nitetis 139 655 660

Than protecting me against the king’s great fury, He makes such efforts, Heaven is so propitious, That, to be brief, he does me this great favor; And, having let me out stealthily and silently, He brings me over here by a secret path. He says he has so carefully foreseen surprises That I’m safe from being discovered by Cambyses. Thus, madam, despite such numerous misfortunes, I can bathe your feet with my tears once again; I can swear once again to my divine queen That an innocent love …

NITETIS Phameine, stop, go no further. Your reason goes astray, and in this conversation You don’t fully consider your rank and mine. 665 The laws imposed by my duty and my marriage Have had to change our hearts, just like my fate. And if they have not fully disjoined our hearts, What we say to each other must at least be changed. The gods have forbidden my soul forever to 670 Utter those enchanting words of love and passion. The majesty of the throne and the bonds of wedlock Have placed so much distance between love and me That, in whatever guise it’s offered to my thoughts, My self-esteem is always harmed and surprised by it. 675 However odious the king’s crimes may be, Phameine, he’s the spouse whom I received from Heaven. See what that name obliges you and binds me to, And don’t force my heart to say anything more. Despite the sweet error that made it favor you, 680 My heart tells you enough if you know it well.

685

PHAMEINE I hear it all too well. Would to the gods, madam, That I could hide that language from my soul, That some sweet error could assist me by Erasing your rank from my heart forever, That my too cruel and barbarous memory Could one day betray me over this sad story. But love has imprinted it so well in my heart

140 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 690 695

That death will hardly have the power to erase it. I know your rank; I know that of Cambyses; But if I’m still allowed this sweet thought, madam, I also know that my original fate Had long promised itself a happier ending, That if I had to judge your words sincere, Your desires arose prior to my father’s plans, And that, in short, this love …

NITETIS Phameine, on this point Don’t I recall the things that you recall? In this story was I less involved than you?

700

PHAMEINE So much virtue leaves one little memory, Madam; in the state Heaven has reduced me to, I expect small benefit from your recollections. If your marriage forces you to act so heartlessly, Then …

NITETIS Let me doubt that I’m that heartless and Believe, if possible, that a mere memory Is not a feeling that I ought to banish. 705 I don’t know if I had less memory or love, But indeed that thought was so sweet for my soul That all my virtue failed to prevent it from Still reigning over me and being dear to me. Too rigorous duty, if this avowal offends you, 710 Forgive my tenderness just this one time. It won’t go very far, and this weak outburst Is its final struggle and its final effect. Yes, Phameine, this is the final victory That your love will ever gain over my self-respect, 715 And to prove that, I won’t listen to any more; My reason fears a longer conversation. Against a powerful love flight’s the remedy; Cupid likes danger and fears those who avoid him. Farewell, Phameine.

Nitetis 141 PHAMEINE Where are you hurrying, madam? 720 What takes you away from me?



NITETIS My self-respect, my husband.

725

PHAMEINE Your husband! Ah, great gods, just one more moment! Must that offend the man who owns all things? From him who today steals from me all I value, Is demanding a brief interview too much? Consider, madam, that this small benefit Serves only to let me die feeling less rage, And that the unjust violence from your husband Won’t leave you leisure time to feel remorse.

730 735 740

NITETIS If the gods had thought our love legitimate, They wouldn’t have allowed it to be made a crime. We would be disobeying them, thwarting their designs, If we relit a fire that they ordered put out. Prince, let us leave it for those weak hearts to Suffer the dangerous storms of love’s desire; Their earthbound illusion cannot reach us here, The lofty sphere to which our rank has raised us. Our hearts were formed for conquest, and we fail to know them If we enslave them and give them a master. They were formed from a race … But what do I see? Just Heaven, it’s Cambyses! Gods, defend me! (Enter Cambyses.)

CAMBYSES My eyes, do you deceive me? Is that Phameine? What, the son of Amasis, with the queen, alone! For what purpose, madam, for what criminal plot Are you hiding here the state’s main enemy? 745 [to Phameine] Who brought you to this place? [to Nitetis] Who, madam, keeps him here? Speak, and dispel the anxiety of your spirit.

142 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

750 755 760 765 770 775

PHAMEINE The queen cannot reply to you on that point. I only know this riddle and can explain it. Listen, king of Persia, and stop feeling anxious. I was born for a throne, and not for wearing chains, And he who commanded one-fourth of the globe Has trouble bearing the indignity of prison. I was, as much as you, invincible in war— Which at its whim unseats all earthly kings, And whose law you may yourself one day submit to; It alone has granted you power over me. In your pride you abuse that power; you forget That I am merely a fruit of victory, That when a prince like me is made a captive He loses none of his glory and dignity. That’s why I want to free myself from the effects Of your wrath; but though great ills come with slavery, A noble heart finds crimes even more hateful, I want to break my chains and not offend the gods. Years back I knew the queen when we were children; Since we were both born in the same land, I Hoped that the power of a lifelong friendship Could inspire in her a bit of pity for me; And to receive a kindly service from her, I came to beg her to hasten my execution. When one’s strongest efforts are limited to one’s death, It’s easy to overpower one’s guards without qualms.43 That’s my great scheme; if you find it criminal, Refuse yourself nothing; I offer you your victim. Order me to be sacrificed to your resentment.

780

CAMBYSES Ah, I too clearly see through your disguising, Traitor, and for my bad luck, your crude deception Is all too ineffective in this circumstance. Even if your both being anxious didn’t tell me all, A king like me is rarely caught unawares. Nitetis’ face, now overcome with blushes, Shows me your designs and my shame all at once. This profound silence, this disconcerted look,

43. An unconvincing explanation. Phameine is too virtuous to make an effective liar.

Nitetis 143 785

Have said all too much for the honor of my life; Too many cruel signs show that I’m dishonored.

790

PHAMEINE O gods, don’t add this reproach to your bad life; Don’t abuse the treasure that you received from Heaven, And recognize the worth of a gift so precious. The rarest virtue and the noblest heart That Heaven ever bestowed on any mortal Are in this princess, and I swear …

CAMBYSES You love her! Can that be doubted after such an admission? Can this great eagerness to defend the queen Still leave my wrath uncertain of its target? 795 [to Nitetis] You were faithless from the start; your utter coldness Had fully convinced me that you loved another. This scorn for my throne and this indifference, Came from your love, not from your constancy. You feel no sorrow for the spouse who’s snatched from you; 800 You would have shed tears if he’d been dearer to you. Speak, it is time; overcome your state of shock. You loved him back in Memphis … NITETIS Yes, Cambyses, I did, and my heart would never have felt that fine flame Had it been shameful for me to admit it to you. 805 So long as my heart was at liberty to love, And the raptures of an innocent affection Could be felt without harming my good name, My heart felt no obligation to guard against it. I heard without blushing what was told me lawfully. 810 Since Amasis made that love legitimate, And since he joined my throne to the offer of his son, I thought I could bestow my affection at that price. But ever since the laws imposed by a new marriage Bound my destiny to form other desires, 815 Although your cruelties increase every day, Fidelity acts in my heart in place of love.

144 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 820 825 830

A soul that fully understands nobility Always keeps its feelings under full control. It’s honor, not its passions, that regulates it; It ceaselessly resists its amorous leanings. Rather than let its feelings drive or rule it, What pleases it the most is what it dreads. Thus, despite your hate and my original love, Duty has made you master of my heart. Above all, don’t think that a weak, ignoble fear Forces me to say these things to beg for mercy. No, far from hoping to protect myself that way, The selfsame feeling forces me to warn you That my soul gives allegiance to the name of husband, That while loving you as such, I abhor your person, And that if instead of you I were wed to a monster, He’d hold the same rank as you do in my heart. In you it’s my honor and self-esteem that I love, And I find there nothing charming but myself.

CAMBYSES 835 As for me, in the violence of my just fury, To deserve your horror even more, I want To have this traitor die this instant in your presence, Watch your tears increase his torment and my vengeance, And as I wash away the insult in his blood, 840 Observe your suffering as he breathes his last. Come here, Hydaspe. (Enter Hydaspe.)



HYDASPE My lord.

CAMBYSES Bring instruments of torture, And as he awaits still worse, bind him with chains. (Exeunt Hydaspe and Phameine.) [to Nitetis] Now let your tears flow; your childhood affection Surely deserves this remnant of pity for him. 845 Don’t restrain yourself in this harsh anxiety.

Nitetis 145

850 855 860

NITETIS Barbarian, you alone deserve my tears. It’s your cruelties and your impending woes That my sad heart ought to be weeping for. The wretched victim of your unjust rage, Whom your last order frees from slavery, This hapless remnant of destiny’s caprices, Far from provoking tears, makes me bless his death. In the horrid state to which envy has reduced him, To take away his life is an act of kindness. But when in a prince who’s sunk himself in crime I see the same husband given me by the gods, When reason tells me that heavenly justice looms And that my loyalty forces me to fear his death, To tremble for the woes that threaten his life, Honor forces my tears to flow forth freely; My rigid duty draws them from me in abundance.

865

CAMBYSES Cambyses exempts you from such charity. Your heart has others besides me to tremble for. Fear for your lover, and perhaps for you. A husband outraged by a crime like this Is not always content with just one victim. Behold what kind of crime causes me to blush, And tremble as you measure the vengeance by the insult.

870 875

NITETIS I don’t much fear the result of your vain threats. I’ll view arrest and pardon with the same calm face. A heart like mine was not born to tremble, and The gods alone have the right to unsettle it. I could defend myself against your base suspicion If my heart demeaned itself enough to try it, But you are free to banish or accept your doubts; I’ve too little esteem for you to cure you of them. Let your rage drive you to the extremes of horror; No matter how great, I will have no less courage.



CAMBYSES You might need to use it, and my angered heart

146 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 880 885

Will soon make you employ your fearlessness. I’ll make your lover perish with cruel tortures, Make you the witness of his final sufferings, And then, to ruin those whom love has joined, Expose you in your turn to similar torments. Steel your heart for that. (Exit)

NITETIS (alone)44 Ah, barbarous villain! Will you then sacrifice a man of such rare merit? Ah, let’s run after him and avert his blows. If we can, let’s spare our spouse from one more crime.

Act IV (Enter Cambyses and Predaspe.)



Sir, the prince is dead.

PREDASPE

CAMBYSES So at last his insolence 890 Has by your hand received its just reward?

895 900

PREDASPE After looking for him all day long in vain, Here, in the princess’ apartments, in his own, Finally, I found him in a garden walkway Alone, lost in thought, his spirit so disturbed That although he must have seen us several times, We came up to him without being noticed. If I could have foreseen that his impetuous Spirit would explode with such excessive rage, His drowsy state gave us the opportunity To overpower him at once and seize his person; But in this criminal, this reckless man, I always showed respect for the prince your brother, And wanting to mitigate, by being submissive, The harsh, deadly act I was sent out to do,

44. Despite this stage direction it is probable that Mireine, who has been present throughout the act, remains with her mistress.

Nitetis 147 905 910 915

I approached him by myself, but I tried vainly To flatter his pride through soft, enticing language. At my first word, sir, at the mere name of his king, At once he turned his weapons against me, And as the unjust effect of this violence, He forced me to forget his rank and noble birth. I shuddered to find myself in this urgent position, But I owed his death to your authority. Unable to do less to punish his insolence, Desperate, confused, I made direct attack. Though valiant, he’s outnumbered; pierced by many blows, He unleashes his rage against you as he dies; He would have wished to fight with you directly, And with his final breath he utters a curse.45

920

CAMBYSES That traitor! His death was vital for state safety. He was doubtless planning some great, heinous crime.

925 930 935

PREDASPE If I dare carry my suspicion further, The princess, sir, is in collusion with him. Hardly had he finished gasping his last breath When she suddenly came upon us at that spot. As soon as she perceives her dear brother’s body She shakes with horror, faints, weeps in despair, Cries out constantly to Heaven, and against you Hurls every insult that dreadful rage can dictate. Though she merely spoke, she made it clear to me That in her keen anguish she could do rash things, And fearing that in her highly excited state She might attempt some final bloody deed, I left all her attendants to watch over her, And I’ve come here to tell you of these tidings. But doubtless, sir, others have told you first, For everywhere in the palace I have noticed That the guard’s been doubled and that they are armed.

45. The playwright gives Smiris a more heroic death than the historians. Herodotus gives two versions: Prexaspes murdered him either during a hunt or during a stroll along the seashore, without his fighting back (III.30).

148 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

940 945 950 955 960

CAMBYSES Ah, that is not what makes me so alarmed! I have very different reasons to feel dread and anger, And Mandane’s not the only one I have to fear. With my mind provoked still by the earlier insult, I was burning with desire to slake my vengeance, And I found in my resentment that, to my taste, You were a bit too slow to serve my fury, When Hydaspe, surprised and out of breath, told me That an escaped prisoner was in the queen’s chambers, That one of his comrades had just come to alert him, And that the officers seemed to authorize it. In my rage Smiris is the first one I suspect, Since your order was to place him under arrest. At that point I didn’t know what would befall him; I thought he was behind this violent act. To thwart his plan I order two companies To reinforce my guard and seize control of The doors. With my mind indignant at this crime, I run myself to the place they’d indicated. At first there is resistance, but my presence At last makes the foolhardiest lose hope; They all move away and flee to avoid my sight. I order silence, the better to surprise them, And I noiselessly go straight to the queen’s chambers. But instead of Smiris, I encounter Phameine.



PREDASPE Phameine, great gods! What, the son of Amasis? Your mortal enemy!

CAMBYSES Yes, his son, Predaspe, 965 Whom Nitetis wished to rescue from my rage And maybe use to avenge the insult done her, For long ago that monster was her betrothed. The vile man dared to admit that to my face. Were it not for the good power watching over me, 970 My blood would have sealed their unworthy alliance: Nitetis would have ended her shame and woes, And the price of her favors would have been my death.

Nitetis 149 975 980

But since, thanks to Heaven, the scheme has been discovered, I’m off to plan the destruction of them both. That is what brings me back to her apartments. For just now, in the excess of my fury, I was so unable to think clearly that I let her go free, and I’ve just been told That she slipped away from my violent pursuit, And that she took advantage of my agitation. But I’m having her searched for; she hopes in vain To escape my anger and preserve her life.



PREDASPE But aren’t you afraid that by killing Nitetis …

985

CAMBYSES Would you want to sever those whom love has joined? No, no, let us not suffer death to part them. They’ll have the same fate. (Enter Mandane and Barsine.)

MANDANE Keep on, you barbarian. Finish, by making yourself still more hateful, The process of turning men and gods against you.



O gods!

CAMBYSES

MANDANE What, you are quaking when I approach you! 990 You didn’t fear crime, and yet you fear reproaches! A man who can shed my blood now dreads my voice?

995

CAMBYSES Although the gods alone can judge kings’ actions, Although for what is done through our absolute power We are accountable to no one but ourselves, The love I have for you cannot deny you The right to force me to justify myself Concerning the just death of a rash young man.

150 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 1000 1005 1010 1015 1020 1025

Without deigning to show you that it was required, I could speak to you as an absolute monarch And say, as my sole reason, “I so wished it.” But I’m in love, and when Cupid has touched a heart One wants to be esteemed by one’s beloved. It was not enough that Smiris condemned my passion, That he constantly opposed what I most desired, That he secretly vilified my latest conquest, And objected to seeing his crown upon my head; His age and his royal birth excused those faults. Besides, to be truthful, Heaven has raised me so high That the greatest plot such an enemy could form Always seemed beneath the notice of Cambyses. I’d have suffered all this had he been discreet, Had he been content with grumbling privately, But ever since he attacked me openly, Violating the respect owed to the crown, Scorning my anger, threatening his king, It’s all the world’s rulers he offends in me. The honor of the crown is the common cause; When one is scorned, all monarchs are affected. And once a subject affronts our kingly rank, His death is what is owed to all our peers. So if I’ve shed his blood, taken a brother from you, Blame the state for it, rather than my anger. A monarch is often the slave of his own laws, And reasons of state constrain the will of kings. I’m master of rights concerning my own person, But I’m not master of those that touch my crown. We must account to the gods for our authority,46 And to deny an example to posterity Would mean betraying the interests of the state.

1030

MANDANE Very well then, carry out your harsh policies; Sacrifice Mandane also to your reasons of state. She, cruel man, commits a crime more heinous: If Smiris hated you, barbarian, I abhor you,

46. Even if Cambyses seems sincere at the start of his speech, this allusion to the gods clearly proves his hypocrisy. Knowing that Mandane is a religious believer, he offers her arguments that he expects her to take far more seriously than he. However, theologians of the period, such as Bossuet, used just this sort of argument to justify the divine right of kings.

Nitetis 151 1035 1040

And if he threatened you, I’ll do still worse. For I call the Creator to witness in your presence That there’s no source from which I won’t draw help To sacrifice your blood to my brother’s ghost. What, coward! This speech does not arouse your anger! By what greater misdeed can one deserve it? How happy Smiris was to make you furious! How much I esteem the honor that his death brings! And since he displeased you, how I envy him! Can’t I obtain that favor from destiny And inspire in you, tyrant, the wish to kill me?

1045

CAMBYSES No, stop hoping that my justice will condemn you. My fury prepares a crueler torture for you. Since, unluckily for you, you find me hateful, I want to marry you at once.

MANDANE May the gods grant it! May just Heaven hasten your violent act, 1050 And offer me this means to make my vengeance perfect! Ah, tyrant, how my heart would bless your anger If it could make you my husband right away, If it thus delivered you totally to my hatred! What pleasure I would have to view your suffering, 1055 To see you day and night dread what I might do, That my hand, stroking you, might hide a dagger, To see you mistrust my words of tenderness, And fear incessantly even my caresses. If Heaven has seemed so deaf to our outcries 1060 And subjected us so long to your wild rage, It’s not from lack of pity for our woes. But he reserved you for this horrid torment: That’s how he punishes tyrants like you. Besides, he owed this glorious task to me; 1065 It’s up to Cyrus’ race to avenge his memory For the harm your crimes endlessly do to his glory. I’m impatient to obey this just obligation.47 47. This chilling threat is never realized. Other strong-willed heroines in tragedies of the period similarly consider the possibility of accepting marriage to an odious tyrant in order to have the chance to

152 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 1070 1075

Here, I offer you my hand; dare to receive it. But, tyrant, you turn pale! What does your soul fear? Would he who doesn’t fear the gods fear a mere woman? Yes, let my vehement fury take its course; It can advance your death by just one moment. Since you, cruel man, must resolve to see your punishment, What matter if it comes from me or a thunderbolt? Just Heaven, ashamed that the sun shines on your crimes, To punish them, has no need of my wishes. Without my help your death is all too certain.

1080 1085 1090 1095 1100

CAMBYSES Then let it suffice you that Heaven has decreed it; Let him work for my destruction without you. Since he wants to spare your hand from striking this blow, By what unjust right and what principle Can you punish me by copying my crime? Is an attempt on my life more lawful for you Than was for me the crime that I committed? If your love for this dead brother was extreme, We’ve the same kinship, and, what’s more, I love you, You ingrate, and these crimes that make you scorn me Were all committed by me to make you queen. Through what other motive, despite the Magi’s warnings, And ignoring the fright from hundreds of dire omens,48 Did I abolish the commonly held error That banned marriage between brother and sister? It’s for your sake that in this circumstance My laws have made love reign even over nature, And that, permitting what was once a crime, I alone changed nature’s course on carnal matters. My passion was so fertile in miracles that It surmounted countless obstacles and dangers, To conquer the remorse that religious fear Inspired in the hearts of the most audacious people. Where reason was lacking, I made use of force; I imposed on my subjects incest and divorce.

assassinate him, though without acting on it. An exception is the title character of Thomas Corneille’s Camma (1661), who poisons the cup from which both she and the tyrant Sinorix (who, as she is aware, murdered her first husband) must drink at their wedding ceremony. 48. These omens, not mentioned by Herodotus, are presumably inventions of Cambyses to lend support to his claims of innocence.

Nitetis 153

All those who resisted me have felt my wrath, Down to my own brother, and all that for you.

1105

MANDANE I’m the hateful cause of all your heinous deeds!

1110 1115 1120 1125

CAMBYSES And who else but love could be guilty of them? If my heart hadn’t been assaulted by your beauty, I was Cyrus’ son, born to be virtuous, Formed from a race so pure, so noble-hearted, That had I not loved, who would have taught me crime? Yes, love alone is what has caused my madness, And you’re the one who kindled it in my heart. So stop coming to reproach me for being wicked; If I’ve committed crimes, you’re my accomplice. For Smiris’ death blame only your own charms; If I shed his blood, you were guiding my arm. I loved you; he opposed that passion. Were it not For you, for your charms, your brother would be living. And yet, your unjust, barbarous anger wants To make me pay the penalty for your blows. It’s you who robbed me of my innocence, And you seek revenge for your own heinous crime. Since it’s my love that makes me odious, Let the gods thunder at me if it offends them, Let my whole nation weep, let nature moan; But you must stifle your unjust complaints, Even if all others are allowed to condemn my love. (Enter Hydaspe.)

1130

HYDASPE Ah, sir, make haste; rush to the outer courtyard; A huge aroused crowd, scorning the massed guards, Brazenly strive to get inside the gates, And making loud and grumbling cries toward heaven, They make Smiris’ name resound from every side.



MANDANE It’s the noble blood you shed that asks for vengeance.

154 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 1135

It’s all over, tyrant; your end is at hand. Your countless crimes have wearied the gods at last.



CAMBYSES At least I’ll keep that spectacle from your sight, Ingrate, and if I die, your relentless hatred Won’t have the pleasure of gazing on my torment. Hydaspe, keep her under guard in these apartments. (Exeunt Cambyses and Hydaspe.)

1140 1145

MANDANE May that last order hasten your punishment, Cruel man; may Heaven grant that this tyranny Will be the crowning last crime of your life. Let’s hurry after him; he tries in vain if he Thinks to deprive me of the pleasure of his death. Nothing can hide that spectacle from my sight, And his unjust love accords me too much power To fear that the boldest soldiers in their pride Would dare to confine my eyes or steps to this place.

Act V (Enter Mandane and Barsine.)

1150 1155 1160

MANDANE Yes, the weak soldiers have all feared my power, But how cruel they are to me by their obedience, Barsine! And had they followed their orders better, They would have brought comfort to my just despair. By making me witness of Cambyses’ peril, They also showed me who’s leading the uprising; They let my weak eyes make the discovery That Prince Prasitte is leader of the rebels. Thus my destiny in its relentless anger Pursues and crushes me with such great harshness That in the sad choice of these two enemies I’m not even allowed to pray for either one.49

49. This scene is patterned after passages in Pierre Corneille’s Le Cid and Horace, where a virtuous female character is anxiously waiting for news of a combat that pits a family member or friend against

Nitetis 155



BARSINE How’s that? Between Prasitte and the king your brother, Can your heart tremble at having to make a choice?

1165 1170 1175 1180

MANDANE Ah, since fate pleases to arrange things so, Now it’s no more the tyrant who’s at issue, He’s still for me the same target of rage, And if my mind is split over such a choice, It’s not that my heart still doesn’t wish him dead, But it would have liked to choose another killer. I’d like to reconcile my hatred and my glory, To conceive desires that will not stain my fame, And see him sacrificed on this deadly day To satisfy my brother’s ghost, not love. If possible, I’d like to see his fury punished From the sole motive of fleeing his tyranny; So I could feel blameless for his death, I’d wish Someone other than his rival had undertaken it. For, in short, if Prasitte has a role in his demise, A burst of jealousy might be his motive; This prince might slay him out of pure resentment, Far less for being a tyrant than for being my suitor. If that unjust ardor is what sparked his anger, If he offered me his hand stained with my brother’s blood, How favorably do you think I could view that, And how can I reconcile my love and duty?

1185

BARSINE But, madam, why try to look inside his soul And distinguish in this way honor from love? Your mind is too ingenious on this matter; Trust in your heart; it will judge more correctly.

1190

MANDANE In vain does my heart take Prasitte’s side here; The heart does not judge women of my high birth, And my loving sighs would be of no effect Unless the whole world approved my choice of suitor.

her beloved. But the reminiscence is ironic, since in the earlier plays both combatants are virtuous and heroic, whereas Cambyses is neither.

156 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 1195 1200

One must, to deserve a solid reputation, Be free of suspicion just as much as crime. It’s for those hearts fashioned for lesser virtue To think themselves innocent unless they’re convicted. But in the glittering high rank that I was born to, It’s a crime for me even to be suspected. The closer our lofty rank brings us to heaven, The more it obliges us to imitate the gods. And Heaven expects of us so pure a virtue That the shadow of a crime is insulting for us. But the queen approaches.50 (Enter Nitetis.) Well, madam, at last What can we expect to see today from Fate? 1205 How fares the dangerous boldness of the rebels? Will the tyrant win? Do they yield ground to him?

1210

NITETIS Yes, princess, he’s victorious, and as the final woe, It’s my pity, it’s I who am propping up his fury; It’s my hand that repels so powerful a storm, And since Fate wills it so, he owes his life to me.



MANDANE What! Have you saved Cambyses from his death?

1215 1220

NITETIS I did so, and, what’s more, I don’t regret it. Having been witness to Phameine’s arrest, I went off to save that hero from his hatred, And though in the state Fate has reduced me to, I could expect little profit from my efforts, A mysterious instinct, contrary to my welfare, Secretly inspired in me this foolhardy plan And made me think that it is often chance That plays the biggest role in heroic exploits.51 Heaven seems to approve this lawful undertaking;

50. Sentence added by the translator. The first half of the verse is missing in the original. 51. Villedieu’s cynicism about military and political glory, which will be a dominant feature in her later novels, is clearly anticipated here. It is further ironic that the victory of a male general is made possible only through the quick thinking and resolve of a woman.

Nitetis 157 An unforeseen riot at once works in its favor. A crowd of rebels, asking to see the king, Had filled the whole palace with such terror that 1225 The frightened guards were abandoning their posts And not stopping this vile, criminal rabble. “Soldiers, where are you running to?” I asked them. “To calm your fright, come, follow where I lead. Profit from the good luck that destiny hands you 1230 And in short, soldiers, to win dare to follow me.” In the minds of weak men full of apprehension The least shadow of hope makes an impression. The soldiers, at these words, ashamed of their weakness, Wait with firmness for me to fulfill my promise; 1235 They’re led to the tower; it’s opened to us at once; Phameine’s released, and to reverse his fate I needed merely to arrange for his escape.



MANDANE At least you did that, for …

NITETIS Just hear what followed. I was planning that when from countless jumbled voices 1240 I learn that my husband’s at his last extremity. No sooner has that report come to my ears When my duty reawakens in my heart. I no longer recall the king’s outrageous conduct; I forgot everything, princess, except my wifely troth. 1245 My personal interest, even Phameine’s safety, Undertook in vain to shake my firm resolve. That prince, my love for him, my fear, my anger, In my soul all those gave way to my husband’s danger. Finding my troops fully ready to obey me, 1250 I lead them to Cambyses, with Phameine At their head; he, by his first blows and his actions, Shows me what a noble heart can do to rebels; He attacks, defends; all yield before his fury; Through his aid or rage he takes men’s lives or spares them. 1255 And when finally he reached the king’s position, A thousand ringing cries of fright or gladness Let me judge sufficiently, though I couldn’t see it, Of the surprising effect that his coming produced.

158 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU) 1260

I wished to spare myself this hateful spectacle,52 But Mireine remained out there; she’ll have more news.

1265 1270

MANDANE O astonishing effect of sublime virtue! Great gods! Was there ever a more heroic soul? But when carrying out this feat that none expected, Did your heart not make a secret disavowal? Did you not feel at all these marks of weakness, Which the greatest virtue has trouble overcoming? In spite of us they put our souls in such a state That stifling a desire costs us great inner struggle, And that joins such harsh tortures to our triumph That one barely can resolve to be victorious.

1275

NITETIS Whatever the desires of a heart like mine might be, Once duty speaks to it, it heeds nothing else. Glory is a severe, harsh mistress, who Always wants to triumph in great, noble hearts; One must never retreat while following her, And to serve her one must sacrifice all to her. But what happy fate does Mireine seem to announce? What causes your joy? (Enter Mireine.)

MIREINE Ah, madam, Phameine …



NITETIS What? Phameine? Continue.

MIREINE He’s victorious. 1280 Prasitte is bringing him here to you in triumph.



Prasitte, just heaven!

NITETIS

52. Nitetis must leave the scene of the battle before the end in order to allow for the misunderstanding later in the act.

Nitetis 159



MANDANE What are you trying to tell us?



MIREINE They’re coming right behind me.



NITETIS Gods! What have I heard? Phameine with Prasitte? And Cambyses?

MIREINE He is dead, At least if I can believe confused reports.

1285

MANDANE That’s just what I feared, cruel gods!

NITETIS Ah, madam! What bewilderment takes over my whole mind! Can it be that a hero whom I thought so perfect Has committed such a black, ignoble crime? The head of the rebels brings Phameine back here? 1290 How did they join forces? Do you know, Mireine?



MIREINE You’ll learn that from him, madam; here he is. (Enter Phameine and Prasitte.)

1295

PHAMEINE At last, thanks to the gods, you’re in command here, O queen;53 Cambyses is dead, and auspicious Fate Today has done you justice, despite yourself. In your virtue you struck just a powerless blow; His blood …

53. Phameine is addressing Nitetis, the only woman in the play to bear the title of queen. However, in the play’s final lines, Mandane seems to believe that it is she who will assume power. Villedieu does not make clear who will succeed to the throne.

160 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)



NITETIS And you dare inform me of that death! Do you have so little knowledge of my soul That, after that crime, you withstand my presence?



PHAMEINE To defend the king, it’s all in vain I fought …

1300 1305

NITETIS Then you should have followed him, or avenged his death. You should have wiped out your shame by dying, or else Done more to protect my husband’s life for me. I’d entrusted you with that glorious commission; Traitor, what have you done with that precious blood? Despite your unworthy victory, I’ll succeed In shielding my fame from posterity’s suspicions.



I beg you hear …

PRASITTE

NITETIS No, after this surprise, I’ll hear no more except as Cambyses’ widow. You know what that title demands from my loyalty, 1310 So see what victim it expects from me. You cruel, unjust prince, whose persistent hatred Exposes me to the despair of being suspected, My heart was so receptive to your love, you ingrate; What had I done to you to make me blush for it? 1315 Before this black, perfidious action, I Could still reconcile esteem for you with my glory.



PRASITTE I can’t stand any longer …

PHAMEINE Ah, stop, Prasitte! In vain, by the report you plan to make, Do you want to shield me from this august anger. 1320 If I’m suspected, my death is all too just. Yes, queen, if—ever since a sincere affection

Nitetis 161 1325 1330 1335

Revealed my whole heart to your penetrating gaze, Since all the feelings of an innocent passion Must have revealed my innermost soul to you— You still think me capable of wicked acts, Being suspected of this crime means I am guilty. I should, by the glory of a lofty virtue, Have forced you to judge my heart by your own standards. Countless discreet feelings and proofs of my loyalty Should have vouched for me today in your esteem, Kept you hesitating, though a crime was proven, Despite the most visible and strongest hope; These, far from allowing you an insulting doubt, Should have made you question what your own eyes saw. So if you’re capable of the least suspicion, Have them lead me off to death; I’m guilty enough. I await this fair decree without protesting. Command it, great queen; come, you see I’m ready.54

1340

PRASITTE Yes, madam, to do him justice, order him To be led in triumph, not to execution. He alone defended Cambyses against all others, And it’s the king’s own hand that robs you of a husband.



MANDANE Cambyses killed himself?

PRASITTE Yes, madam, and Phameine, Far from being guilty of it, as the queen thought, 1345 Had, thanks to his valor, put him in a position To have nothing more to fear but his own remorse. But the king, driven wild by an excess of fury, Believed that this hero aimed to take his life, And letting himself be guided by his tragic fate, 1350 Misled by this error, died by his own hand.55 54. This declaration of absolute submission to the will of the beloved, despite her manifest injustice, recalls the heroes of pastoral novels. However, it is improbable that the misunderstanding should be sustained for over forty lines. 55. According to Herodotus, Cambyses killed himself by accident, and not deliberately. Having learned that the impostor Smerdis had just started a revolt, he leapt upon his horse, but the clasp covering the

162 MARIE-CATHERINE DESJARDINS (MME DE VILLEDIEU)

1355

MANDANE O equitable result of Heaven’s kindness! So then, the king alone is guilty of this death? You both are innocent, and our timid hearts Can still hear the victors without being criminal. But, madam, Heaven reserves the rest for you. Take full advantage of its kindness today; Allow a marriage, awaited for so long, To grant this hero a prize he’s justly owed. Come here, prince, come; this hand will …

NITETIS No, princess, 1360 Expect no sign of weakness from my hand. My duty long ago made me give it in marriage; My duty today forces me to keep my faith. I know what Cambyses was and see what Phameine is. I know what strong feelings of love and hatred 1365 All my past misfortunes ought to inspire in me. But my heart can master itself; that says enough. Yes, Phameine, that statement clearly enough informs you What your passion can expect now from Nitetis. It’s sweet for me to see your love’s so pure and perfect, 1370 But because I cherish it I fear what will result. If I derived this profit from Cambyses’ ill fortune, I’d fear that my heart was sweetly misleading me, That it had foreseen his death with too much pleasure Or even had formed some secret desire for it. 1375 If my heart did decide to feel so complacent, I wish to punish it by thwarting its hope, And let it not be said that a love not fully stifled Has played some part in my just resolutions. So expect from me no cure for your suffering; 1380 I’ve preserved your life, and I’ve broken your chains. Unless I’m mistaken, Egypt belongs to you. But, prince, limit your sweetest hopes to that. I can do nothing more without sullying my fame, And if you’re dear to me, I love my glory more.

sheath of his sword broke off, and the blade inflicted a deep wound in his thigh. Although the injury was not immediately fatal, gangrene would cause his death three weeks later (III.64).

Nitetis 163 1385

Farewell, I must plan to render to the king The baleful duties that my troth demands of me. (Exeunt Nitetis and Mireine.)

1390

PHAMEINE Gods! What have I just heard? How great is my surprise! What! Destiny forces me to regret Cambyses! What! To crown my woes, I lose by my rival’s death! Is there any misfortune that can equal mine? Ah, I’ve too long resisted! Cruel Destiny … (Enter Hydaspe.)

1395

HYDASPE Sir, the populace, still bent on massacre, Fills this whole palace with carnage and horror. Predaspe was the first to fall, feeling their fury,56 And if someone does not rescue us from this danger, We are all, sir, on the verge of following him.

MANDANE Go, princes, go and calm this justified fear, And entrust your personal interests to me. [to Phameine] I’ll pacify the proud heart of Nitetis. 1400 [to Prasitte] And as for you, I know what my promise binds me to. I’ll keep my word to you and henceforth intend To establish peace and happiness in this land. END

56. The lynching of the wicked advisor by an enraged mob was a frequent feature in the denouements of French tragedies, the best-known example occurring in Racine’s Britannicus (1669). According to Herodotus, however, this advisor survived Cambyses, agreeing to cooperate with the usurpation by the Magi, and then with the coup d’état that overthrew them.

Antoinette Deshoulières Biography Antoinette Du Ligier de la Garde, daughter of a nobleman with the title of knight of the king’s orders, was born December 31, 1637 (some sources put her birth on the following day).1 She received a very serious education and learned Latin, Italian, and Spanish. Graced with remarkable beauty, as well as a lively intelligence and a talent for poetry, she cultivated the company of intellectuals throughout her life. At the age of thirteen and a half she married a nobleman from the Poitou region, Guillaume de La Fon de Bois Guérin, seigneur Deshoulières. Due to her extreme youth, she remained in her parents’ home and saw little of her husband, who was lieutenant colonel of a regiment in the service of the Prince de Condé. (Condé, one of the preeminent military commanders of his day, was a cousin of Louis XIV, but sided with the rebels during the civil war known as the Fronde, which lasted from 1648 to 1653.) In 1653 Mme Deshoulières joined her husband at his command post at Rocroi, where she spent two years. She next resided in Brussels, making a great impression among the nobles. Condé himself fell in love with her and pursued her for a long time, but in vain. In May of 1656, she gave birth to Antoinette-Thérèse, the only one of her children who would survive her. Several months later, urged on by her father, she persuaded her husband to abandon Condé’s faction and accept the amnesty offered to Fronde participants by the king. When Condé learned of their betrayal and received orders from the king to hand over Rocroi to royal forces, he arrested the couple, seized their papers, and imprisoned them in the fortress of Vilvorde in Belgium. In August of 1657 both managed to escape from captivity, made their way to France, and were received at court. The king pardoned the husband and named him governor of the port city of Sète. However, his wife did not accompany him there, preferring to remain in Paris and gather a circle of cultivated people in her home. Mme Deshoulières’s salon quickly became one of the most brilliant, including many of the most eminent authors of the day. Women writers were also represented, including two of the most illustrious, Marie de Sévigné and Madeleine de Scudéry. 1. The earliest biography is that of Chambors in the first critical edition of Deshoulières’s collected works, Œuvres de Madame et de Mademoiselle Deshoulières, nouvelle édition, ed. G. de la Boissière, Count de Chambors, 2 vols. (Paris: Durand, 1753), 1:vii–xlvi. Later biographies are found in the following works: Frédéric Lachèvre, Le Libertinage au XVIIe siècle (Disciples et successeurs de Théophile de Viau): Les derniers libertins (Paris: Champion, 1924), 25–63; Catherine Hémon-Fabre and PierreEugène Leroy’s introduction and appendices to their critical edition of her poems, L’Enchantement des chagrins (Paris: Bartillat, 2005); Sophie Tonolo’s introduction to her critical edition of the poems, Poésies (Paris: Classiques Garnier, 2010).

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166 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES In 1658, just after her father’s death, Mme Deshoulières obtained a financial separation in order to protect herself against her husband’s creditors: his military assignment at Rocroi had exhausted his resources, and he could not expect assistance from the king to cover those debts. She remained on friendly terms with her husband but did not see him often, since he was fully occupied with his role as governor and was also required to fight with the royal army during the wars declared by Louis XIV. He did manage to return to Paris on occasion, as evidenced by the fact that his wife gave birth to two more children: Antoinette-Claude in 1659, and Jean-Alexandre in 1666. Between 1672 and 1674, she traveled with some female friends to the regions of Dauphiné and Provence; this trip included a pilgrimage to the banks of the river Lignon in honor of the novelist Honoré d’Urfé, of whom she was a lifelong admirer. Around 1678 she contracted breast cancer, which would cause her to spend the rest of her life in enormous pain. In 1683 she reconciled with the Catholic Church, presumably inspired by the conversion of her old tutor, the libertine poet Dehénault. She had her son baptized (something that she had secretly refused to do when he was born), and she even praised the revocation of the Edict of Nantes in 1685 (the decree ordering all Protestants to convert or leave the country). Her husband, who had been sent to Flanders in 1682, died in 1693. The king, aware of the family’s precarious financial situation, granted the widow a pension of a thousand pounds. Mme Deshoulières died just a year after her husband, on February 17, 1694, and was buried in the Church of Saint-Roch. A few weeks later, the king granted her daughter a pension of 400 pounds, later raised to 600 pounds, in gratitude for the services rendered to the state by her father. Mme Deshoulières’s poetry had been circulating in manuscript ever since her youth, but she was reluctant to publish anything, prevented by the prejudices associated with her rank (nobles were not supposed to engage in money-making activities) and by fear of critics. In 1672 two of her poems appeared in the very first issue of the Mercure galant, which would soon become France’s leading literary gazette, and its editor, Jean Donneau de Visé, would go on to publish other of Deshoulières’s poems. In 1678 she obtained a privilege for her collected works, but she waited over nine years to make use of it. The volume of her poetry, which appeared in 1688, did not contain her tragedy Genseric. However, she did publish the play with Claude Barbin in 1680, shortly after its premiere; it is significant that on the title page she hid her name but not her gender. Meanwhile, her reputation as a gifted and serious poet continued to increase. In 1674 Deshoulières learned that she was one of only three women named to the Academy of Letters that was planned by abbé d’Aubignac. However, when d’Aubignac died in 1676, the project was abandoned. In 1684 she was elected to a foreign academy that accepted women, the Accademia dei Ricovrati in Padua. The Academy of Arles elected her in 1689, marking the first time any French

Genseric 167 woman writer had received such an honor in her own country. In 1690 the main French Academy in Paris, which would not accept women as members until the late twentieth century, realized that she deserved to be formally honored, so they invited her to read one of her poems during one of their meetings. Mme Deshoulières’s daughter Antoinette-Thérèse, also acclaimed as a poet, though not on the same level as her mother, would likewise be granted honors: she received first prize in the French Academy’s poetry competition in 1687. Mlle Deshoulières, who would live until 1718, published a collected edition of her own and her mother’s works. The poetry of Mme Deshoulières consists exclusively of short pieces. There are pastoral poems, verses addressed to the king and other notables (after all, she was chronically short of money), and informal poems dealing with daily activities. The most enduring part of her corpus is the series of moral and philosophical poems in which she comments, from a perspective influenced by Epicurean thought, on the brevity of life and on the greater happiness enjoyed by plants and animals, who do not share many of the problems of humans. Although Deshoulières’s strong point was always acknowledged to be lyric poetry, she had an abiding fascination with the theater. While Genseric is the only play she ever completed and published, she attempted a number of other dramatic works during the course of her career; the remaining fragments would not be printed until the 1754 edition of her complete works. An opera libretto and a comedy of manners, though abandoned at an early stage, demonstrate her willingness to capitalize on the popularity of newly emerging dramatic forms. At an unknown date she worked on a second tragedy, Jule Antoine, based on Cléopâtre, a popular novel by La Calprenède; only a few hundred lines of fragments remain from this play. In 1689 she composed an allegorical dialogue between Love and Ambition in the style of an operatic prologue. It was intended for performance at the opening of a festival that the king was organizing for the English court, but that festival was ultimately canceled and the prologue was never used. It is unfortunate that Deshoulières’s most frequently reprinted poem is the cruel sonnet that she composed in 1677 to make fun of Racine’s Phèdre, now generally acknowledged to be the greatest French tragedy of all time. Like many of her contemporaries, she preferred Corneille to Racine and failed to appreciate the latter’s merit. The motivation for her satirical poem was her participation in a cabal favoring Jacques Pradon, a young playwright who composed a tragedy on the same subject to compete with Racine’s. Needless to say, Racine and his friends were greatly offended, and, according to Brossette, a close friend of the acclaimed satirist Nicolas Boileau, the acid portrait of a pedantic bluestocking in the latter’s diatribe against the female sex (Satire X, 1694) was specifically directed against Deshoulières.

168 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES One should not read too much into Deshoulières’s involvement in this cabal. Literary quarrels were a frequent event among intellectuals of the day, and she, being active in salon society, participated in a number of them. In 1676, when Louis XIV decreed that the inscriptions on triumphal arches would henceforth be written in French, rather than Latin, she wrote an amusing ballade commending her friend Charpentier, who had argued in favor of the use of French. As a friend of Thomas Corneille and Charles Perrault, two of the leading champions of the Modern cause during the Quarrel of the Ancients and the Moderns, a complex intellectual battle starting in the late 1680s that would divide the French Academy for decades, she openly favored the Moderns. In 1684, inspired by the premiere of Lully and Quinault’s opera Amadis, Deshoulières composed a ballade entitled “On n’aime plus comme on aimait jadis” [People no longer love the way they did in ancient times], which was both an attack on the mores of the court and a celebration of contemporary art forms like opera. This poem provoked a series of verse responses and counter-responses, with Jean de La Fontaine as one of the participants.2 The overall impression one gets from reading the poems in these quarrels is that Deshoulières was motivated by irrepressible wit and good humor, rather than by aggression or mean-spiritedness.

A New Vision of Tragedy The final quarter of the seventeenth century saw a number of crucial changes in the direction of French tragedy. With Corneille’s retirement from the stage in 1674 and Racine’s three years later, the era of masterpieces came to an end. The merger of Parisian troupes, promoted by the king, led to the formation in 1680 of a single dominant theatrical company, the Comédie-Française; this event was being organized at the time Genseric had its premiere. The new troupe took as its mission the preservation of plays already judged as canonical, while accepting only those new plays that lived up to the highest standards. Significantly, they chose Racine’s Phèdre (premiered in 1677, but promoted almost instantly to the status of classic) as their inaugural production. Nicolas Boileau’s verse treatise L’Art poétique (1674), which provided a pithy summary of the main precepts of what would come to be called French classical doctrine, contributed to the widespread belief that the French tradition rested on a system of rigid rules and on consecrated models. In other words, it gave the impression that there was very little room for innovation. Playwrights of the next generation faced a serious dilemma: if they followed the canonical models too closely, they would be accused 2. For an account of this episode, see Sophie Tonolo, “Aimer comme Amadis: Mme Deshoulières, une poétesse entre deux siècles,” in Origines: Actes du 39e congrès annuel de la North American Society for Seventeenth Century French Literature, ed. Russell Ganim and Thomas M. Carr, Jr. (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2009), 273–85.

Genseric 169 of being mere imitators, but if they strayed too far from Corneille and Racine, critics and audiences might object. Fully aware of this problem, Deshoulières proposed a thoughtful and ingenious solution: retain elements from both Corneille and Racine, while calling the tragic vision of both authors into question. In Genseric the standard models of literary heroism no longer operate. None of the characters is fully sympathetic or admirable. There are six protagonists (the norm was three to five), which meant that not all could be fully developed. In fact, only Sophronia is a fully realized, complex character; the others are two-dimensional, although Genseric and the empress make a strong impression. Internal conflicts, a staple of the French tradition, are kept to a minimum: Thrasimund, forced to choose between his love and his duty to his father, hesitates only briefly before choosing love; Sophronia repeatedly changes plans and tactics, but her actions are always motivated exclusively by her passion. The ending is utterly pessimistic, presenting the defeat, either total or partial, of all the protagonists. Divine providence, although often invoked, never manifests its presence, and, even more seriously, the moral order is not restored. The play ends with the tyrannical Genseric firmly in control, even if he is frustrated in his desire to install his favorite son as emperor of Rome. While a number of French authors had portrayed the decline of the Roman Empire and the rise of the barbarian peoples, usually exalting one group at the expense of the others, a play that simultaneously disparages Romans and barbarians was atypical. Deshoulières presents the Vandal king as a scoundrel devoid of grandeur, while Rome, the object of his recent plundering raid, is so corrupt that it is hardly worth the effort of conquering, even through the path of a diplomatic marriage. She takes the vision of a world in the process of disintegration, already present in Corneille’s last tragedy, Suréna (1674), and makes it even more depressing. In Genseric virtue is linked to innocence, but rarely to heroism. Thrasimund possesses many of the qualities of the traditional hero, but he surpasses Racine’s virtuous young men in naivety and timidity. There are references to Thrasimund’s past military exploits, but during the play he passes up the chance to engage in combat, realizing that a victory would mean unseating his father. He lacks assurance and the need to surpass himself, which are distinguishing traits for Corneille’s principal heroes. The most revealing moment is when he rejects the link between love and magnanimity (ll.111–14); this eliminates a core component of the heroic ideal in Corneille, for whom love is converted into a virtue when linked to esteem for the beloved’s nobility of soul. Unable to understand the Machiavellian thinking and amoral attitudes of his father and brother, Thrasimund cannot hope to prevail, even though his cause is just: he aims only to defend his rights and those of his beloved. His death at the hands of the woman whose love he has spurned is not glorious, though he does in effect sacrifice himself to save the life of Eudoxia. But the audience also realizes that this accidental killing merely

170 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES anticipates the plans of Genseric, who has resolved to get rid of the son whom he dislikes. As for the princess Eudoxia, her role is mainly limited to lamentation. On one occasion she defies the tyrant to his face, but for the most part she does not think for herself and does nothing to arrange for her escape. She is far less assured and less conscious of political realities than her counterparts in the tragedies of Racine. The champions of amoral ambition are distinguished by their energy and their lucidity, but they alienate the reader with their coldness, cynicism, and almost total lack of family affection. Genseric, instead of recalling his military conquests, prefers to speak of a rather infamous exploit, the sack of Rome, and he has no clearly defined projects for the future. He openly admits that he has no regard for treaties or official pledges, and he seems unimpressed by the military prowess of his older son. Although he often speaks of the gods, it is obvious that he is a nonbeliever and that his references to them are hypocritical and self-serving. Even his military skills are not infallible: having neglected to order his soldiers stationed in the ships to go ashore as soon as he learns of the rebellion organized by Thrasimund, he has some initial difficulty quelling the insurrection organized by Sophronia. While Genseric’s ambition, perseverance, and hatred for imperial Rome count as genuinely heroic qualities, he lacks the other principal traits of the French tragic protagonist: selfless love, pursuit of glory, nobility of soul, respect for noble enemies. His favorite weapons are trickery, intimidation, and violence. The empress Eudoxia, who lacks proper gratitude toward her one genuine protector and who gleefully admits that she wishes him harm, does not have welldefined plans either. She speaks constantly of returning to Rome, failing to understand that the Romans, who have good reason to blame her for their misfortunes, would refuse to welcome her if Genseric allowed her to leave. She commits a serious strategic error: not suspecting Sophronia’s jealous fury, she confides to the young woman the plot devised by Thrasimund for their escape. But after realizing her blunder, she quickly recovers and persuades Sophronia to launch a new plot to free the prince. By allowing the empress to echo (l. 640) a cynical comment by the murderous queen Cléopâtre in Corneille’s Rodogune (1647; l. 503), Deshoulières suggests a moral affinity between two queens with a lust for power and a willingness to sacrifice the happiness and even the lives of their children. Sophronia, the sole major character invented by the playwright, constitutes both a reflection and a refusal of the Racinian model. Like Hermione (in Andromaque, 1668), Eriphile (in Iphigénie, 1674), and Phèdre, she feels a frustrated passion for a handsome and brave young prince who loves another woman, becomes uncontrollably jealous, makes plans to take revenge by destroying either the prince or the rival, and commits suicide when she discovers that she has definitively lost her beloved (and, as in two of those Racine plays, is responsible for his death). But Sophronia is more lucid than these earlier characters because she recognizes

Genseric 171 that the hatred she feels is merely another aspect of her love (ll. 361–66), and she changes her tactics once she understands that Thrasimund risks being actually killed. In addition, she displays greater political skill, for she organizes a popular revolt to save her beloved’s life, and the plan is successful. (Hermione, on the other hand, plots the murder of the man who has spurned her but confides the execution of her vengeance to another of her suitors. The other two heroines work indirectly by making false accusations.) Like Eriphile, Sophronia directs her vengeance at her rival, though she ends up accidentally stabbing her beloved; unlike her predecessors, she wields the dagger herself. But despite her intense internal conflict, her lucidity and her capacity for taking direct action, she disappoints readers with her pettiness and her final attack of hysteria, where she fails to see in time the true identity of her victim. The terrifying awareness that she is violating moral laws and is being judged by all-seeing gods, which makes Racine’s Phèdre such an extraordinarily moving character, is absent in Sophronia. Deshoulières has endowed Sophronia with some heroic qualities, but not enough to win our admiration, or even our full compassion. The ending of Genseric, far from showing the restoration of moral order and the existence of a divine power that cares about justice, is exceptionally pessimistic. The gods seem absent; all the characters who feel true love are destroyed; the odious Genseric, punished by a brief return of fatherly feeling when he learns of his older son’s death, remains in control and apparently invincible. This refusal of poetic justice (the convention according to which evil is always punished at the end, and goodness is rewarded or at least glorified), observed in the vast majority of French plays, must have proved shocking to audiences of the time.3 Deshoulières’s innovations, far from producing imitators, provoked mostly negative comments from critics. A typical response to the tragedy was that the author had no talent or understanding for the theater and should have restricted herself to lyric poetry, an area where she was generally acknowledged to excel. The editor of the 1754 edition of her complete works noted that she “is extremely far removed from the greatness of the feelings of Corneille to which she aspired,” while the brothers Parfaict in their history of French drama objected to the poorly constructed plot, unsympathetic characters, and, most of all, to the failure to reproduce “the language of the heart, or of feeling, that Madame Deshoulières possessed so perfectly.”4 No one at the time even suspected the possibility that the 3. The Marquis d’Argenson, a perceptive and usually sympathetic critic of plays who wrote in the eighteenth century, condemned Genseric for its overly terrifying plot, the choice of a thoroughly wicked man as protagonist, and most of all for an ending “where virtue perishes and wickedness triumphs.” René-Louis de Voyer d’Argenson, Notices sur les œuvres de théâtre, 2 vols. (Geneva: Institut et musée Voltaire les Délices, 1966), 1:357. 4. Chambors, ed., Œuvres de Madame et de Mademoiselle Deshoulières, 2:xxx–xxxi; François Parfaict and Claude Parfaict, Histoire du théâtre françois depuis son origine jusqu’à présent, 15 vols. (Paris, 1735–49), 12: 162–64, 170.

172 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES playwright had deliberately sabotaged the consecrated models of Corneille and Racine, intending instead to propose a brand new vision of the tragic genre.

A Double Rewriting of History It was expected that tragedies should derive their plot from history or classical mythology. Most of the characters in Genseric are indeed historical figures, although much of the plot is fictional. Genseric (or Gaiseric or Geiseric) was king of the Vandals, reigning from 428 to 477. He succeeded his brother Gontaris (or Gunderic) at a period when this people of Germanic origin was living in Spain, in the region later known as Andalusia. In 429, shortly after coming to power, he transported his people to Africa, at the request of Count Boniface, governor of the Roman province of Africa. This ambitious Roman commander, hoping to create an autonomous domain for himself, solicited the aid of the Vandals to reinforce his position against Rome, with disastrous results. It should be noted that the Byzantine historian Procopius (sixth century) gives a far more favorable interpretation to the actions of Boniface, and this is the version that the playwright follows. Procopius lays most of the blame on his rival, the eminent general and royal advisor Aetius.5 According to his account, Aetius, who had remained in Rome, hoped to get rid of Boniface by accusing him of treason. He urged the regent to test Boniface’s true intentions by seeing whether he would obey an order to return to court. Then Aetius sent a letter to Boniface, telling him that the regent was planning to destroy him and would soon be recalling him to Rome for that purpose. Boniface, trusting this warning, refused the regent’s order and decided to protect himself against the unjust persecution that he feared by summoning the Vandals. However, Boniface had not counted on his new ally’s excessive ambition. In 430 Genseric declared war on Boniface, defeated his army and became master of Africa. The Eastern and Western emperors, alarmed by this development, sent a joint army to dislodge him, but he defeated them as well. In 435 he signed a treaty with the Romans, making the Vandals official allies of Rome; Genseric was also allowed to retain Mauritania and a part of Numidia. In 439 he conquered Carthage in a surprise attack, thus ridding himself of the last bastion of Roman control on the African continent. Too weak to repel him, the Romans decided to recognize Genseric as master of proconsular Africa in a new treaty signed in 442. But the Vandal king, still not satisfied, sent his fleet to make additional conquests in the western Mediterranean; he soon annexed Corsica, Sardinia, Sicily, and the Balearic Islands. In 455 Genseric pulled off the most daring feat of his career: 5. Procopius, History of the Wars, trans. H. B. Dewing, 5 vols. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann, 1960–62), III.3.14–36. Further citations of Procopius are to book III.

Genseric 173 taking advantage of the chaos in Rome following the assassination of the emperor Valentinian, he invaded and sacked the city. The pillaging and devastation were so outrageous that the word “vandal” has entered modern languages with a highly pejorative meaning. On two occasions, Roman emperors tried to get Genseric unseated, but without success. He died in possession of a vast empire and passed it on to his oldest son, Huneric. He left at least two other sons, Theoderic and Genton, but the character of Thrasimund in the play was invented by the novelist Baro (see below). As for the empress Licinia Eudoxia, daughter of the emperor of the East, Theodosius II, she married Valentinian III, emperor of the West, in 437. He seems to have devoted his whole life to pleasure and allowed his advisors to run the empire. The most powerful of these was Aetius, a brilliant commander who took charge of the negotiations with the Vandals and who successfully repelled the invasions of the Huns under Attila in 451–52. In 454 the enemies of Aetius, including Petronius Maximus, persuaded Valentinian that the illustrious general was planning to assassinate him and seize power for himself. The frightened emperor killed Aetius with his own hands. But the following year two of Aetius’s supporters avenged him by murdering the emperor on the Field of Mars. According to Procopius, however, it was Maximus who killed Valentinian and for strictly personal reasons: the emperor had abducted and raped Maximus’s wife (III.4.16–24). Maximus quickly proclaimed himself emperor and forced Eudoxia, the wife of his predecessor, to marry him. However, he reigned for only ten weeks (March 17 to May 31, 455). When the Vandal fleet landed in Rome, he panicked and tried to flee, but an enraged mob seized him and ripped him apart. It was said at the time that Genseric was summoned to Rome by Eudoxia, eager to avenge the murder of her first husband, but modern historians question this: if Genseric had waited for an invitation, he would hardly have had the time to equip his vessels and set sail for Rome. After sacking the city, Genseric withdrew with his army and took Eudoxia and her two daughters with him as prisoners. It is at this point that the action of the play begins. However, despite the tragedy’s gloomy conclusion, the ladies did not remain captives in Carthage forever. In 462 the empress and her younger daughter, Placidia, were released and sent to Constantinople, at the request of the Eastern emperor, and Placidia was finally reunited with her husband, Olybrius. Ten years later, Olybrius became emperor of the West, but he was assassinated soon after. As for the older daughter, Eudoxia, she was forced to wed Huneric, son of her captor, in 456. But in 472 she fled to Jerusalem, disgusted, it is said, by her husband’s fanatical Arianism and persecution of Catholics. Sophronia, daughter and heiress of Boniface (in the play), was invented by Deshoulières, but since that general had a son-in-law, Sebastian, who inherited his military command upon his death, he obviously had a daughter. (Boniface, after being expelled from Africa by Genseric, returned to Rome, was restored to

174 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES favor, and died in 432 from battle injuries.) However, the new character poses difficulties with historical chronology. If Sophronia was only six when the Vandals first arrived in Africa (l. 311), she would have been born in 422. But given that she seems to be only in her late teens, that would put the time of the action in 438–42, whereas the Vandals’ sack of Rome occurred in 455. It is not certain whether Deshoulières even realized this problem, but in any case she knew that her great predecessors, including Corneille and Racine, had taken equally great liberties with history. Another alteration of history in Genseric concerns the religion of the characters. Once Christianity was adopted as the official religion of the empire during the fourth century, paganism largely disappeared in Italy. By the fifth century, non-Catholics could not become emperor of either branch of the empire. However, Arianism, a rival branch of Christianity condemned as a heresy by the Catholic leadership, was the faith of many of the barbaric peoples, including the Vandals, the Goths, and the Huns. As has been already noted, Genseric and Huneric were ferocious in their promotion of Arianism and their persecution of Catholics. Nevertheless, Deshoulières gives the impression that all her characters are pagans, and references to the gods are consistently in the plural, though there is not a single allusion to mythology. It is conceivable that Deshoulières, by showing the misery of humans in a world where God appears to be absent, as well as the inability of good people to make justice and virtue prevail, might have been hinting, perhaps unconsciously, at the inner struggle that would lead her to embrace Christianity three years after the premiere of her play. Even though Genseric has a foundation in history, the bulk of the plot was derived from a work of fiction, L’Astrée (1607–27), Honoré d’Urfé’s sprawling pastoral-chivalric novel, which remained hugely popular throughout the seventeenth century. The episode dramatized in Genseric is taken from part 5 (1628); that volume was composed by Balthasar Baro, d’Urfé’s secretary, after d’Urfé died, leaving the work unfinished.6 One of the novel’s central tensions is the contrast between the tumultuous events in Rome and throughout the Western Empire during the fifth century and the idyllic, apolitical world of the shepherds in Forez (a region in central France), populated largely by disgruntled ex-courtiers seeking a happier and more fulfilling life. But even in the episodes dealing with life in the outside world, it is still love that motivates the actions of virtually all the characters. In Baro’s account, the empress, far from being impervious to love and obsessed with a desire for vengeance, has loved, since her youth, a valiant and chivalrous knight, Ursace. That knight, who returns her love, has always remained faithful to her and has never married, although she has been forced into two marriages for political reasons. Her younger daughter, Placidia, loves and is loved 6. See Honoré d’Urfé [and Balthasar Baro], L’Astrée, ed. Hugues Vaganay, 5 vols. in 8 (Lyon: P. Masson, 1925–28).

Genseric 175 by a young warrior, Olimbre, who is also Ursace’s best friend. (Olimbre is based on Olybrius, to whom in history Placidia was already married.) After failing to prevent Genseric from taking the women to Carthage as captives, the two knights resolve to liberate them. Ursace falsely announces his own death, and the friends arrive in Africa secretly and in disguise. Meanwhile, Genseric has fallen in love with the empress. Frustrated by her insistence on remaining faithful, not to the memory of her first husband, but rather to her beloved Ursace, the Vandal king threatens to wed her by force. In order to protect herself, the empress sets fire to her apartments and spreads the rumor that she and her daughters have died. In fact, the three women have escaped from the burning building with the help of Genseric’s virtuous oldest son Thrasimund, who loves the princess Eudoxia and is loved by her. Filled with remorse over causing the death of the woman he loves, Genseric relents when he learns that she has survived. He nobly overcomes his passion and allows all three women to marry the men they love. Deshoulières, although a great fan of L’Astrée, subverted its ideology and radically altered the plot of the episode that she dramatized. In her play, Genseric and the empress are now indifferent to love and have little affection for their children. Their coldness and ruthlessness make them the play’s most energetic characters but also show that the world of chivalric virtues is on the verge of extinction. Thrasimund and the princess, who represent those values, are ineffectual and end up totally defeated. The utterly bleak ending is exactly opposite to Baro’s perfectly happy ending.7

A Huge Success? Genseric was premiered in January 1680 at the Hôtel de Bourgogne. It was the next to last tragedy staged by that company prior to the fusion of the Parisian troupes seven months later to form the Comédie-Française. Michel Baron, the most acclaimed actor of his generation and a former protégé of Molière, took the role of Thrasimund; it is not known which actors performed the other parts. According to Deshoulières’s first biographer, Chambors, who was a close friend of her daughter, the tragedy had an exceptionally long run of forty performances. Modern historians cast doubt on this number, arguing that if the play had been that successful, there would have been more comments about it from the gazettes and letter writers of the period, and it is curious that it was never revived. One 7. There had been an earlier adaptation of this episode from L’Astrée for the stage, though it is by no means certain that Deshoulières knew of it. Georges de Scudéry’s tragicomedy Eudoxe (1641) follows Baro very closely but has little in common with the later play. At most, Deshoulières could have borrowed from Scudéry the name of Ispar for the king’s advisor (Aspar in the earlier play), and a brief passage where Genseric becomes enraged when Thrasimund tries to give him advice. But Aspar is a sinister figure who gives amoral counsel and is disgraced at the end; he has little in common with the honorable and well-meaning Ispar.

176 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES can only speculate as to why the tragedy was so well received initially. Perhaps it is simply that audiences recognized the work’s literary merit, but perhaps the success was rather due to respect for Deshoulières, already widely acclaimed as a poet, or to the echoes (however subverted) of Corneille and Racine, or to the continued popularity of L’Astrée (there had been a spate of dramatic adaptations during the second quarter of the century, but almost none after that). In any case, it is strange that a tragedy with such success in the theater seems to have garnered virtually no critical esteem. In fact, the sole critical evaluation of the play from the time of the premiere is a satirical sonnet sometimes attributed to Racine, whose own tragedy Phèdre Deshoulières had ridiculed in a similar manner three years earlier. Like the earlier sonnet, it is funny, accurate in the details, but unfair in the general assessment. Young Eudoxia is a good-natured child, Old Eudoxia is an outright she-devil, And Genseric a double-dealing and wicked king, Worthy hero of a wretched play. As for Thrasimund, he is a poor innocent fellow, And Sophronia in vain shows him attention; Huneric is an indifferent man, Who, as others wish, either takes her or leaves her. And most of all, the subject is treated God knows how! Author of noble rank, You hide your name as you give this work. It is very well done to hide oneself that way; But to act as a fully wise person, You should have hidden the play, as well.8 Despite this bad publicity, the tragedy was not forgotten. Deshoulières remained an esteemed poet for roughly a century after her death, and Genseric was regularly included in collections of her complete works.

8. Jean Racine, Œuvres complètes, ed. Raymond Picard, 2 vols. (Paris: Gallimard, 1950–52), 1:981–82.

GENSERIC TRAGEDY CHARACTERS GENSERIC king of the Vandals and of Africa THE EMPRESS EUDOXIA widow of Valentinian III, emperor of the West THE YOUNG PRINCESS EUDOXIA in love with Prince Thrasimund, Genseric’s eldest son9 THRASIMUND son of Genseric, in love with young Eudoxia HUNERIC second son of Genseric, engaged to Sophronia SOPHRONIA daughter of Count Boniface, formerly governor of Africa, engaged to Huneric and in love with Thrasimund ISPAR confidant of Genseric, and an ally of Sophronia JUSTINE confidante of Sophronia CAMILLA confidante of the Empress and of young Eudoxia HAMILCAR Genseric’s captain of the guards NARBAL confidant of Thrasimund A GUARD The setting is in Carthage, in Genseric’s palace.10

9. To tell apart the mother and daughter, Deshoulières refers to only the latter as Eudoxia in speech headings, designating the former as the Empress. 10. Carthage (near the modern city of Tunis) had been captured by the Vandals in 439 and became their capital. Since the play appeared semianonymously (the title page lists the author as Madame ****), the absence of dedication and preface should not be surprising.

177

178 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

Act I (Enter Eudoxia and Camilla.)

5 10 15

EUDOXIA To dispel my sorrows use other arguments; Examples are of little help to me. If Fortune has made multiple women unhappy, Does that mean my misery must be less frightful? To lessen one’s misfortunes through another’s Is a relief unworthy of a noble heart. Besides, of all woes mine is the most harsh; Death is greatly preferable to my uncertainty. Alas, Camilla! Where are those happy days That saw me and the prince first fall in love, When he was sent to our court as a hostage For the peace that was sworn between Rome and Carthage?11 O sad reflections, tender memories, Add to my cruel despair, if that is possible! Today I abandon myself to all my grief, And in short I can no longer live in chains.



Madam, stop urging …

CAMILLA

EUDOXIA No, I wish this morning To learn from Ispar my real destiny. Genseric confides in him completely, and 20 Through him I’ll lose my fear or else my hope. Have you informed him that I expect him here?



CAMILLA He knows your plan, madam, and here he is. (Enter Ispar.)

11. In Baro’s novel, Thrasimund is the hostage sent to Rome, and it is on that occasion that he and Eudoxia first meet and fall in love. However, Thrasimund is a fictional character invented by Baro. In history, it was Huneric (the real eldest son) who was sent to Rome, as part of Genseric’s plan to establish friendly relations with the Romans. The move was successful, and Huneric was eventually sent back to his father (see Procopius III.4.13–14).

Genseric 179

25

EUDOXIA Will the king hold the empress captive for much longer? Is he not yet weary of treating us unjustly? Does he take such great pleasure watching our tears flow? And does he condemn us to eternal sorrows? As minister to that proud, barbaric ruler, You well know, Ispar, all he’s prepared for us.

30

ISPAR Madam, it would be in vain to hide it from you. Forget the very name of Roman, if you can; Resign yourself, madam, to your destiny.

35 40

EUDOXIA So I’ll never see again the place where I was born, That lofty Rome, where on countless occasions My ancestors led captured kings in triumph; And Heaven allows that inside Carthage’s walls The daughter of Caesars pines away in slavery! No, however angry at us he may seem, He’s no protector of unfaithful people. Genseric, by a thunderbolt or human hand, Will see the pillaging of Rome avenged on him.

45

ISPAR Will you never adopt appropriate views? You and the empress, in your fits of anger, Always forget that in your present state You ought to speak less loudly than you do. So much pride’s not fitting …

EUDOXIA You’re mistaken, Ispar. Wherever she is, my mother is Caesar’s widow, And maybe one day you’ll be forced to learn What respect is owed to that exalted rank. There’s no hero who, on learning we are captives, 50 Could sit idly by in a disgraceful slumber; Filled with that hope, I see their arms made ready …12 12. Deshoulières here alludes to events in Baro’s novel, where there are indeed two noble knights who arrive secretly in Carthage to rescue the captives: Ursace, the empress’s original fiancé, and Olimbre,

180 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

55

ISPAR Heaven will avert those painful storms from us. I’ve left Prince Thrasimund with the king. If what He eagerly urges, madam, comes to pass … But here he is. (Enter Thrasimund and Narbal; Ispar withdraws.)



THRASIMUND Ah, madam! Ah, my father!



EUDOXIA Well, sir, I see what I must now expect; I know the cruel Genseric all too well.

60 65

THRASIMUND I urged him, madam, but got nothing from him. In vain did I invoke glory and justice, The respect for oaths that he made to the empress, Her rights as fellow sovereign violated, Her sex, her lineage, her country devastated. Except for the passion that consumes my heart, I’ve used every argument, madam, against the king. Fear of angering him made me conceal the love That I let burn in my heart, without his endorsement.

70

EUDOXIA Why did it have to be, sir, that, to take vengeance For Maximus’ crime and his insolence,13 My mother in her pitiful state sought aid From your father, though she had so many neighbors? Or if blind Fortune ordered that through him We’d be left with lives that are a burden to us, Why, prince, why did our hostile destiny Make you the son of the cruel Genseric?

who is in love with the empress’s younger daughter, Placidia. There will be a perfectly happy ending, with the women freed and each of them married to the worthy man whom she loves. Deshoulières, by suppressing Ursace and Olimbre, eliminates the possibility of a happy ending for her play. 13. After the assassination of Valentinian III, Maximus seized power and forced his predecessor’s wife (the empress of this play) to marry him.

Genseric 181

75 80 85

THRASIMUND What do I hear, princess? Alas, I dared to claim That the purest, strongest, tenderest of passions By which a sensitive heart could be consumed Would make you forget what family I spring from. But I deluded myself with a vain hope: You forget my passion and don’t forget my birth, Madam; and even if, in some lucky moment, Cupid let you see in me just a tender lover, The empress in tears, who can’t keep from expressing The violent outbursts of her just anger, Would easily destroy what love …

EUDOXIA Alas! You don’t fathom what’s in her innermost heart.



THRASIMUND I’d see contempt there …

EUDOXIA In her bitter grief, She does not confuse the father with the son, And it’s a source of sweetness for me, sir, 90 That I see her sigh but not complain of you.



THRASIMUND And what can cause such good fortune for me, madam?

95 100

EUDOXIA On the day when Genseric, by fire and flame, Ravaged all of Rome, she beheld you, sir, Stopping the insolent fury of the soldiers And, touched by the fate of that majestic city, Granting asylum to its innocent people. She knows that here you are seen every day With Genseric, urging him to let us go home, And separating innocence from crime in you, She esteems you, prince, far from despising you.

182 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

105 110

THRASIMUND How charmed I feel by all her kindness toward me! The thought of her hatred filled my sad heart with dread. I’ve asked myself countless times: what will my princess Do? She has no support but my weak love Against the strongest things that Fate’s cruelty Can assemble to keep two hearts disunited. Her feelings will follow those of the empress; She’ll doubtless sacrifice her love entirely, And I will end up faithful but unhappy. What you’ve told me has reassured my passion. I’m esteemed, it’s true; but when you see me make My most pressing business to secure your freedom, When I risk everything, is that effort deemed Merely an effect of noble-heartedness?

115 120

EUDOXIA One rarely fails to recognize what’s done for love; The acts it inspires have a tender character That easily distinguishes all loving hearts From those that good Fortune made merely noble. The empress sees the full difference between them, And, if I dared betray her confidence here, I’d tell you, sir … But why relate to you A plan that never could be carried out?

125

THRASIMUND What confusion you’ve just cast into my soul! In the name of our love, madam, tell me all. What plan, what secret do you want to hide from me? Alas! To learn it, must I tear it from you?

130

EUDOXIA Ah, how you pressure me! If the king your father Had granted your request to let my mother leave, She destined me … The blushes on my face, My embarrassment … Sir, my mind’s getting confused.



My princess, speak.

THRASIMUND

Genseric 183 EUDOXIA There is no more to say Sir, when one blushes, sighs and tries to flee.

135 140

THRASIMUND Ah, don’t hide this charming agitation from me! Make this too happy lover die of love. O gods, by what important, rare act of service Could I repay the empress’ favor toward me? Flattered by a hope that she deigns to fulfill, Let’s hurry off to free and reinstate her. A means is left to me: the proud Sophronia Is soon to be wed to my brother Huneric; She has always shown me countless acts of kindness, And my brother’s less the king’s son than his chief advisor. Madam, grant me permission to confide today The happiness of my life into such sure hands.

145 150

EUDOXIA The secret of my heart was known only by you, But if you must, to make your fate more gentle, Inform Sophronia of just how much I love you, I consent to have you yourself tell her of it. May just Heaven grant, sir, that she will do more Than I expect from her and from our fortune! (Exeunt Eudoxia and Camilla.)

155

THRASIMUND Ah, what do you suspect, too timid princess?14 Would Sophronia have a base, perfidious heart? And could the fear you want to make me feel Accord with everything I see in her? Everything she tells me seems so sincere to me, And yet you do not want me to feel hope?



NARBAL Her fears perhaps have a too sure foundation; Love is easily disguised under the cloak of friendship,

14. Thrasimund continues speaking to Eudoxia after her exit, in what is really an aside. Genseric will do likewise later in the play (ll. 380, 777).

184 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 160

And indeed Sophronia, when you are near her, Seems a thousand times more lovely to all eyes; A charming mix of passion and of languor Adds greatly to her eyes’ sparkle and sweetness. You are loved by her …

THRASIMUND Say no more about this; Respect a virtue that all Carthage esteems; 165 Banish from your mind this horrifying suspicion. Don’t you recall that she’s almost my sister? Her publicly known engagement to my brother Authorizes the warm regard she feels for me. About her one can think nothing base or hateful; 170 Her fondness would not show if it conflicted with Her duty; crime tends to hide … NARBAL Time will reveal Who is mistaken, sir. But I see her coming. (Enter Sophronia and Justine.)

175

THRASIMUND You see me, madam, speechless and embarrassed, Making vain resolutions to break my silence. As I’m about to tell you of the misfortune That crushes me, I fear to find you pitiless. Your kindness, I know, ought to reassure me, And yet I tremble and I dare not hope.

180

SOPHRONIA Please banish a suspicion that offends me. Sir, have a little confidence in me. Can you fail to know how dear you are to me?

185

THRASIMUND My sad heart can no longer hide from you; Despite all my respect, I feel it forcing me To let you know at last its secret and its pain. If the horror of my woes touches you but faintly,

Genseric 185

If you don’t take pity on a wretched lover, I’m going to die, madam …

SOPHRONIA Ah, prince, what language! What do I see in your eyes and on your face?

190

THRASIMUND The sharpest pain one can be stricken with. Never has a lover deserved more to be pitied.



SOPHRONIA You a lover! Why, sir, how is that possible? Can your heart be receptive to love’s fire? Born among soldiers, brought up amid combats, You’ve never let beauty attract your gaze.15

195 200

THRASIMUND I was fleeing Cupid’s treacherous allure. But is there anything beyond his power? I believed that this heart, aspiring just to glory, Would become hardened in the midst of dangers. Born among soldiers, brought up amid combats, Have I been spared from learning to shed tears?

205

SOPHRONIA A man of pleasing looks need not shed any. Love can dispense with torments and with tears. Suspicions, jealousies, rage and despair Are woes that you will never experience.16 Predestined hearts, whatever their desires, Must breathe sighs of love only amidst its plesures, And your soul gives way too quickly to distress. You’re valiant, young, heir to more than one crown;

15. A deliberate parallel with Racine’s Phèdre, where the virtuous and heroic Prince Hippolyte, long believed impervious to love, comes to feel passion for the virtuous princess Aricie and thus arouses the jealousy of his stepmother, Phèdre, who secretly loves him as well. 16. There is a striking parallel with Elvira’s comments to Moncade in Villedieu’s Le Favori [The Favorite Minister]: “… you’ll need never fear anything but / Our charms; and, sir, for those with your good looks / It’s no great harm to be attacked by us. / If I judge aright the looks from our fair ladies, / They will not cause you any fatal wounds” (ll. 494–98; my translation in The Lunatic Lover). It is conceivable, though not certain, that Deshoulières knew the play by her predecessor, performed fifteen years before her own.

186 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 210

Could anyone reject the offer of your love? No, believe me.

THRASIMUND Without you I cannot be Happy. But, madam, I’m perhaps too rash, And your refusal …





SOPHRONIA What must I do for you, sir?

THRASIMUND Allow me, at your feet …



SOPHRONIA No, prince, stand up.

215

THRASIMUND My brother must become your husband shortly; And this sword will end my misery with my death, If you don’t urge him to convince my father, In order to calm my agitated spirit, To set fully free the princess and her mother.



O gods!

SOPHRONIA

THRASIMUND That is the greatest favor you 220 Can do for my heart, and I ask it of you. Eudoxia has charmed me; love unites our hearts, And you alone can …





Madam …



SOPHRONIA Justine, I feel faint. THRASIMUND

SOPHRONIA I’ll make your interests my own;

Genseric 187 225

You can have trust in that, sir; I know no others. But throbbing pains keep me from listening to A speech … As I talk, I feel them growing stronger. You adore Eudoxia; she feels tenderness. Prince, my actions will go further than my promise; Go assure her of that.

THRASIMUND Moved by your kindnesses, 230 I’ll never lose the tender memory of this. (Exeunt Thrasimund and Narbal.)

235 240 245

SOPHRONIA I no longer restrain you, and you may appear, Rage that an ingrate raised up in my heart; Force me to forget his charming qualities, And let me see only his amorous bond. He’s in love, and not with the tender Sophronia! Heaven, what was my crime that I should be punished so? To love alone! Justine, did I hear correctly? And is my hope finally lost forever? You give no answer! Alas, what should I do? Whom should I blame? Eudoxia or her mother— Which one should I make pay for my mortal anguish? “Eudoxia has charmed me; love unites our hearts,” He told me. Both of them have that same name; He likes one or the other; both are beautiful.17 O useless fury! On whom must I take revenge For cruel Thrasimund’s insult to my charms? But why look so hard for that fatal beauty? Let’s destroy them both, and thus destroy my rival. Love excuses all things …

JUSTINE Madam, please reflect: 250 How far will your blind anger make you go? What has the empress done? And the princess? 17. The empress, born in 422, was only fifteen at the time of her marriage and would have been thirtythree at the time of the play. She could well have kept her great beauty, as is specifically noted in the novel.

188 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

255

SOPHRONIA They’ve robbed me of the hope of my tenderness, My lover’s heart, my happiness. No, never Has love forgiven such egregious crimes. To punish them, Justine, one must stop at nothing.



JUSTINE The heart they took from you wasn’t yours to start with.

260

SOPHRONIA Not mine to start with! I know that all too well; But before this love, Justine, he loved nobody; I didn’t have to suffer a preferred rival. How much difference one moment made to my woes!



If reason could …

JUSTINE

SOPHRONIA It gives but feeble help; It’s not heeded. And one would always like, When a harsh fate hands us over to some ingrate, That his heart would serve merely to keep him alive. 265 In loving, I enjoyed that fatal happiness: Beating was all that his heart ever did; It now serves him for sweeter purposes. What pleasures for him! How many insults to me! How many horrors at once! Justine, I’ll die, 270 But before my death … yes, I will be avenged.



JUSTINE So what would you do if he were unfaithful?

275

SOPHRONIA My destiny, alas, would be less cruel. He would have loved me and, in my consuming Grief, I’d have good cause to complain of him. Heaven has refused to me common misfortunes; It’s I myself who cause all my wretchedness. Tyrannical duty! Did I have to hide My tender feelings so long from Thrasimund?

Genseric 189 280

Had it not been for you, alas, perhaps his soul Would have burnt with an eternal flame for me. Since I was pledged to Huneric, could he guess …

285

JUSTINE Since you were pledged to him, could you love another? Have you so little respect for your engagement? Could Huneric have tolerated such an insult? He who so often rebels against his lot And can’t abide Thrasimund’s being the older brother, Could he see him snatch away the woman he loves, Without sacrificing all to his excessive pride? No, madam.

SOPHRONIA In matters of love you are no expert. 290 His heart is not touched by my feeble charms. Being a stranger here, Justine, you do not know What passion my destined husband feels for me. Learn now that all these public displays of affection From Huneric are just reasons of state. 295 When, to protect himself from base treachery, My father summoned Genseric to Africa, He made the proposal, to gain his support, To divide up Africa with him some day. This Vandal, lured by such a great advantage, 300 Lands on our shores with a thousand vessels, Bolsters our hopes, expels our enemies; But, far from being content with the promised sharing, The cruel man strips my hapless father of his power And forces him to leave the Africa he loves 305 To go implore assistance from the Romans And in their country end his wretched life.18 The common people, fond of me, take up my cause; They constantly revolt against the usurper Until the skillful Genseric, to appease them, 310 Pledges to have me marry Huneric. I was only six; due to my tender years 18. The playwright follows the version of events given by Procopius (III.3.14–36). When Boniface was summoned to Rome in 427, he refused to leave Africa, realizing that it was part of a plot against him. Needing an ally, he turned to the Vandal king. But only three years later Genseric turned on Boniface, defeated him, and forced him to flee back to Rome.

190 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 315

I was not told of my family’s misfortunes. I was always raised as Huneric’s betrothed, But, alas, I would see Thrasimund every day. You know the rest; hardly had I first seen you When I let you see the secrets of my soul; I found pleasure in telling you of my woes, Which no one knows and which cannot be equaled.

320

JUSTINE I’m properly grateful for the honor you do me; And, madam, I share in your unhappiness.



SOPHRONIA You must do even more in this pressing danger, And pitying my misfortune does not relieve it.



JUSTINE You need only speak, and you will be obeyed.

325 330 335

SOPHRONIA Ispar owes both life and honor to my father; He’s not ungrateful; he controls the king; And I even suspect he has fondness for me. To take revenge on the ingrate whom I worship, To avoid a marriage that I abhor, I must Today use all of Ispar’s influence. Go find him, Justine, and tell him that I wish Him to go to my apartments in one hour. You can confide to him the things I dread. Explain in full how much I need his help; Excuse my cruel passion, if you can, In the wretched state to which fate has reduced me.



JUSTINE But what will result for you from all those plans? If you break off a match that’s hostile to your love, If you make Thrasimund forever unhappy, Will you love him any less?

SOPHRONIA I, love him! May

Genseric 191 340

Lightning strike me, Justine, or may the earth Open at my feet to engulf me, in your sight, If I am ever seen to stop hating him!



I really fear …

JUSTINE

SOPHRONIA Fear nothing from Sophronia’s heart. Tenderness is banished from that heart forever. 345 But go now, find Ispar and let me weep Over the shameful grief that makes me sigh.

Act II (Enter Sophronia and Justine.)

350 355

SOPHRONIA Ispar has pledged to do all things to serve my wrath. Thrasimund will find a rival in his father; For I don’t think his heart could have been charmed By a woman so young her mind is barely formed. Let’s doubt no longer: his love is for the empress. What strife, what torment for so tender a lover When, to follow his duty as a loyal son, He must renounce the hope of becoming happy! If, to console himself or take revenge on her, Prince Thrasimund became unfaithful to her, If he came to my feet, full of new desires, Justine …

JUSTINE Far from having pity on his sighs, You’d discomfit him with your overt contempt.

360



SOPHRONIA I cannot guarantee what I would do.

What! You …

JUSTINE

192 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES SOPHRONIA This great wrath that makes all things seem easy Is perhaps in me only a love disguised. Why, what assurance do you think one can take Based on the scorn from a faithful, tender heart? 365 I feel, as you compel me to confess, That as long as one hates strongly one still loves a bit.



JUSTINE I hear sounds; someone’s coming; madam, it’s the king.



SOPHRONIA Let’s hide my inner conflict from his sight. (Enter Genseric, Huneric, Ispar.)

370 375

GENSERIC You flee from me, madam, and I always see you Show signs of discontent. Why such evasion? If you believe you have reasons for complaint, You will be heard; speak out with no restraint. I know that your wedding, long since decided on, Should have been concluded upon my return here, That you’re perhaps concerned by that delay; But good reasons …

SOPHRONIA You are the master, sir. There is no urgency, and I don’t know why You look for pretexts to be cross with me. I flee those who I know find my presence annoying. (Exeunt Sophronia and Justine.)

380 385

GENSERIC How much violence I see beneath your sweetness! But let other people fear your powerless wrath; I have other concerns. Huneric, do you love her? Tell me, without reservation, what your heart feels. Is it in accord with my political aims? To disarm the people, in revolt against me,

Genseric 193 390

I had to pledge that you would wed Sophronia; But that time has passed; I fear no further intrigues; No more rebels in town or conspirators at court; And, at whatever cost of blood this calm has come, I’ll never think the price paid was too steep. Profit from that, my son, and don’t torment your heart; Choose for your wife the person you desire.

395

HUNERIC You choose her, sir; I’m trained just to obey. My heart awaits your order to love or hate; It recognizes no other power but yours. Unite me to Sophronia or some other, Or let me never know the pleasures of marriage— You’ll always see me submit to your desires. I have ambition, and no tender feelings.19

400 405 410 415

GENSERIC I wasn’t expecting so much from an ardent youth. I’m pleased to see in you just an ambitious prince. However, Thrasimund will reign in this land; And though my heart prefers you to your older brother, You’ll be, despite my wish, your brother’s subject, Unless we go off and steal a neighbor’s scepter To compensate you for destiny’s mistake. In our position we can dare anything; We have plenty of ships, of money and of men. Our neighboring kings, weakened by years of war, Seem to be buried in cowardly idleness. But to go invade their lands we need a pretext To justify taking power from their rulers. The common people, who always fear a tyrant, Can be fooled only by seemingly valid rights. My son, we have none. As foreigners in Carthage, We can get that great advantage through a marriage. The one destined to unite you with Sophronia Won’t bring us anything we don’t already have; Time has made that alliance useless to us.

19. Huneric is one of the very rare examples of a young man in French tragedy who remains totally impervious to love. The more common scenario is for the character to experience a wrenching conflict between passion and duty to family or country.

194 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 420 425 430

The emperor of the east has neither niece nor daughter;20 And I see just Eudoxia: if she marries you, She can lead you to the rank of Roman emperor. You’ll have to avenge the murder of her father And the forced marriage of her mother to Maximus. Those crimes seem to have been punished already; Rome fell prey to a series of disasters;21 She saw her houses ravaged by our hands, Her temples set on fire, their treasures pillaged. But we can renew the punishment of crimes To the degree that it’s useful for our aims; And some unlucky remnant of the rebels Could once again become deadly for her.



HUNERIC But will Rome consent to see upon the throne The son of a king, her most mortal enemy?

435 440

GENSERIC That name can be blended with that of son-in-law Of the emperors whose memory Rome still worships. Besides, I have friends, both powerful and secret, Who, though they’re Roman, support my interests. Just work carefully to win the princess’ favor; For that the utmost skill will be required; Never was there greater arrogance than hers.



HUNERIC So then she doesn’t know …

GENSERIC No, she knows nothing. Even Ispar, in whom I’ve so much trust, Was let into this secret just today; 445 Not that I mistrust him; he has always been A model of respect, loyalty and zeal; 20. Marcian (396–457), emperor of the Eastern Empire since 450, came to power through his marriage to Pulcheria, the sister of his predecessor, Theodosius II. But since Pulcheria, who was fifty at the time of that marriage, could not have children, the next of kin was her niece, the empress Eudoxia. Eudoxia’s daughter thus had a clear right to the throne. 21. There was in fact a chaotic interregnum following the assassination of Maximus in 455.

Genseric 195 450 455 460 465 470

Separating Genseric from what surrounds him, He’s devoted to me as a personal friend. But, being uncertain of your romantic feelings, I couldn’t propose a plan to favor you. Had you been madly in love with someone else, I, instead of you, would have married the princess, Rather than lose an opportunity That could fulfill my ultimate ambition. My ships are already in Italian waters; The tyrant’s vacant place is not yet filled; And though Avitus is proclaimed in Gaul,22 Rome still lacks a master; the senate is confused; As soon as they see you arrive with Eudoxia, They’ll unanimously choose you as their master. Let’s flatter her ambitious heart with this Hope; that’s all that remains for us to do here. So go woo her as a way to seek the crown. (Exit Huneric.) What devouring worry my tender feelings give me! Ispar, I’d purchase at the price of countless dangers The pleasure of seeing him on the Caesars’ throne. Thrasimund, I admit, is noble and courageous; But my secret preference for Huneric outweighs that. Do you think the princess would dare to spurn him? Do you think Rome would be upset, were he to reign?

475

ISPAR To make them both more receptive to your wishes, You could in your turn marry the empress. Her beauty, strong spirit and illustrious race Equal in every way the splendor of her rank;23 And you …

22. Avitus, a general of Gallic origin, was proclaimed emperor in 455 by the troops in Gaul. However, upon his arrival in Rome, he was dethroned by the most influential general at court, Ricimer (who plays an important role in Baro’s novel). Forced to become a bishop, he died the following year. 23. Deshoulières again tantalizes readers familiar with Baro’s novel with a plot line that she will not pursue. Baro has Genseric fall in love with the empress and propose marriage to her. Enraged by her persistent refusals, he threatens her with force, whereupon she sets fire to her own apartments and gives out word that she and her daughters are dead. Filled with remorse, Genseric overcomes his passion and agrees to free the three women when he learns that they have survived. But in the play Genseric, like his younger son, is impervious to love.

196 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES GENSERIC I, marry her! That’s all I’d need to do To make the Italians hostile to my plans. They hate her, Ispar; they know that she summoned Us to bring the sword into the heart of Rome.



ISPAR Their hatred will extend to her whole family.

GENSERIC 480 Rome doesn’t attribute its misery to her daughter. She, too young to be involved in key decisions, Played no part in attracting the foe to Rome. Besides, I have reasons to avoid such a marriage, Furnished, Ispar, by my age and temperament. 485 The empress is proud; her heart could be touched only By extreme signs of devotion from a suitor; And if my heart conceived romantic feelings, I’d want my love to be returned at once. So much attentiveness is good for common lovers 490 Only; extended courtships are not for kings.

495

ISPAR Have no fear, sir, that she’ll receive you coldly. Merely tell her that you burn with love for her, And leave me the care to show her all the value Of a love supported by a sovereign’s power. Time does not age those heads that wear a crown;24 Their charms are independent of their years; And without …

GENSERIC It’s pointless trying to excite me; One should not feel what one no longer inspires. Go find her, Ispar; it is time she learned 500 That I’ve plans to unite my family with hers. But I see her coming; let us try to flatter This arrogant spirit that cannot be tamed. There is no shame in that, and the noblest souls 24. Several of the late plays of Corneille, especially Sertorius (1662) and Pulchérie (1672), treat with sympathy the romantic attachments of an aging but still heroic and ambitious general. The latter play deals with the marriage of the Byzantine princess alluded to earlier in this act.

Genseric 197 505 510

Are the least embarrassed when women insult them; For my son I’d go so far as to betray myself. (Enter Empress and Camilla.) Madam, we’re going to stop hating each other. All your wishes are fulfilled; you’ll soon be free; Soon you will see the Tiber’s shores again; A hundred thousand chosen men will take you back, And they will reinstate you or lose their lives. Have no doubt; I’ll go in person to command them; And I call to witness Heaven’s supreme power …

515

EMPRESS Reserve your oaths for some gullible person; They will not put to rest my fierce resentment. For far too long those oaths have tricked me. But, After you’ve usurped Carthage and Libya,25 Should I put any confidence in your word?

520

GENSERIC Kings must not be the slaves of their promised word; That foolish notion yields to the state’s needs. But, madam, there’s a remedy for your woes: I’ll bring you back to Rome, and there I’ll work to …



EMPRESS Might Rome have any treasures left to pillage?



GENSERIC I’m going there just for you; even if all the earth …

525

EMPRESS I won’t serve as pretext for another war; Seek other reasons to see the Romans again.



GENSERIC The plan that I have made to join our two houses Will soon prove to you how sincere I am.



Join our two houses!

EMPRESS

25. Another reference to the political intrigue by which Genseric succeeded in capturing all of North Africa.

198 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES GENSERIC Madam, that’s my hope. For my son Huneric I have come to ask you 530 For a treasure that you should grant me with pleasure. I’ll make you mistress of the Roman Empire If my son and the princess are joined in marriage.

535

EMPRESS I’d rather drive a dagger into her heart. Give up, give up this generous plan, sir. Too much Glory today would follow our wretchedness. What, Huneric, marry his father’s slave! He’ll never abase himself to that unworthy match, And I prefer death to such an act of kindness.

540

GENSERIC You’re going too far; fear kindling my anger. Be more receptive to the honor that a victor Wants to make you. With one word I could …

EMPRESS I’d bless Fate if this wrath went so far as to wish for My death. Alas, in my crushing anguish, you Would hardly be more cruel, hardly more guilty.26

545

GENSERIC This disgust with life and all these gloomy outbursts Are, in guilty hearts, the effect caused by remorse.



EMPRESS There’s no remorse for those who are not criminal.



GENSERIC So what name do you give to Maximus’ death?27 He was …

26. Here and again in act 5 the empress urges Genseric to kill her and thereby put an end to her captivity and wretchedness. The fact that she never considers the option of suicide probably derives from the fact that she is a Christian (despite her referring to the gods in the plural). 27. Genseric insinuates that the empress was directly responsible for the death of Maximus, who was lynched by a mob. But most historians think that elements in the army, and not the empress, incited

Genseric 199 EMPRESS He was a tyrant, just like you, 550 And I avenged my husband’s death upon him. With help from rebels, egged on by his boldness, He dared to place himself on the throne and in my bed; And if I viewed that marriage without shuddering, It’s because it was a means to cause his death. 555 I did that, and I leave a great model to follow: Those who don’t take revenge are unworthy to live.



GENSERIC I understand you, madam; and these cruel words …

560

EMPRESS I speak this way to my daughter every day, sir; I impress upon her mind that harsh offenses Demand from noble hearts a glorious vengeance.

565

GENSERIC From these proud feelings filled with cruelty, Madam, one can recognize your ancestry. That spirit of vengeance that preoccupies you Is what caused Thessalonika’s destruction;28 It recently proved fatal to all Italy.

570

EMPRESS And one day Carthage might be harmed by it. Tremble, sir, tremble; the princess is my daughter; Refuse her the honor of joining your family; Theodosius’ offspring, eager to take revenge,29 May put a life in danger in this place.



GENSERIC Madam, leave the care of this head to me. Let The princess be ready to obey my will tomorrow. Here she is; I’ll leave you together.

the mob. According to Procopius, her motive for inviting Genseric to invade Rome was to avenge the death of her first husband (III.4.38–39). 28. In 390 Theodosius I, the empress’s great-grandfather, ordered the inhabitants of this Greek city to be massacred for having revolted against their governor. Over ten thousand people were slain. 29. This could alternatively refer to Theodosius II, emperor of the East, who was the empress’s father.

200 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES (Enter Eudoxia; exeunt Genseric and Ispar.) EMPRESS Have you heard That the proud Genseric has chosen you a husband?

575

EUDOXIA No, madam; what could have made him be so bold? Does he have the right …

EMPRESS He thinks it’s an act of kindness When he destines you to one of his two sons.



EUDOXIA Madam, Huneric is pledged to wed Sophronia.

580

EMPRESS Daughter, I understand you; a sweet hope Has flattered your heart …

EUDOXIA I was just obedient When I listened to Thrasimund; your express command …

585 590

EMPRESS Do not deny that you did a bit more. Love him; you’re allowed to by a mother’s order; A prince who, despite our utter wretchedness, To which a horrid reversal of fate reduced us, Is noble enough to ease our captivity. But prepare your soul now for the harshest torment That one can feel, apart from servitude. Despite all his oaths, treacherous Genseric Breaks with Sophronia and gives you Huneric.



EUDOXIA Madam, ah, could you …



EMPRESS Only the prince who loves you

Genseric 201

Can guarantee you from this extreme danger. Beg for his help; the people here adore him; And against a rival nothing can seem hateful.

595

EUDOXIA Rather than risk a life so precious, wouldn’t it Be better to speak frankly to his brother? Madam, do you think he’d wish to take advantage Of the unhappy state …

EMPRESS He can dare anything. I see that this prince aspires to marry you 600 Only to gain some right to take the empire. It’s widely known that he’s an ambitious man, And we know that he’s cruel and audacious. He has all of Genseric’s bad traits combined; And in short, I hate him because he’s like his father. 605 Once again, daughter, make good use of the power That Thrasimund’s love gives you over him. Without him, I cannot repeat enough …

610

EUDOXIA What! From all the countries allied to the empire, Not one will take arms to deliver us … But what can have happened to the Romans’ courage, That ancient valor that is world renowned?

615

EMPRESS The Rome we see is but a shadow of Rome; The Romans of today, countless times defeated, Have only cowardly and corrupted hearts. There’s no more Roman greatness or Roman virtue.30 Don’t act so proud of a name that now is worthless, Wretched Italy, to whom, in my misfortunes, I so often dedicate my sighs and tears. May just Heaven, to whom I often pray for you,

30. Rome, increasingly powerless to defend itself against the various barbarian groups on its frontiers, was invaded and pillaged by the Goths in 410 and by the Vandals in 455. It was not far from its definitive fall in 476. Later in this speech the empress blames the decadence of the Romans for their political and military decline.

202 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 620 625 630

One day give back to you your earlier fortune, Once more make your Romans judges over kings, And the whole universe subject to your laws! When I brought on you the woes that caused your ruin, Through me divine vengeance was executed. Yes, that fire that burned your palaces, your temples, Was lit by your crimes, far more than by Genseric. However, despite my innocence, I suffer From that, and no allies rise to my defense; No one is touched by the perils that I face. Bound by an oath he swore to save his life, Marcian dares not wage war against this land;31 And I, daughter and wife of the world’s masters, Cannot find an assured refuge against The frightful fate that is prepared for us.

635

EUDOXIA Ah, what dangers a quick death would have saved me from!



640

EMPRESS Daughter, go show your tears to Thrasimund; Make him fully grasp all that he’ll lose in you, And by a little sighing ignite his anger. (Exit Eudoxia.) How easy a tender, young heart is to trick!

What, madam, in fact …

CAMILLA

EMPRESS Know me fully, Camilla. I’ve not rewarded Prince Thrasimund’s great pains; Despite all he’s done for me, I hate him no less. Though he’s as noble-hearted as he is handsome, Is he any less the son of an odious king? 645 And could you think I have a heart so base That it could love one of my tormentor’s sons? If I pretend to approve the passion he displays, 31. Marcian, the Byzantine emperor (see note on l. 420), refused to aid the Western Empire. Having been previously captured and then released by Genseric, he had been forced to swear that he would never again take up arms against the Vandals.

Genseric 203 650 655 660 665 670

If I urge my daughter to dare to be responsive, It’s only to serve my vengeance, and I want To make their passion spark a long conflagration. That way I’ll arm one brother against the other. Love rarely is held back by ties of blood; It destroys still greater obstacles every day; And one’s rivals are not counted as relatives. Yes, I will soon see bloody battles ripping The entrails of the cruel Genseric; And while he’s devoured by frightful calamities, I’ll enjoy the evils into which I’ve plunged him. I know that I betray a prince whom I esteem, That my daughter is the victim of my fury, That if destiny lets Huneric prevail, I’ll lose, in Thrasimund, my sole support; And that, if Thrasimund comes to rule Carthage, My feelings of grief and rage will not be lessened. But my heart recognizes neither shame nor danger, Once I need to take revenge against a foe. I’ll watch with dry eyes this internal strife That will cause the ruin of both father and sons; And even if I have the same fate as they, It is sweet to perish with one’s enemies.

Act III (Enter Thrasimund and Narbal.)

675 680

THRASIMUND Alas! What torments prey upon my heart! Can I never enjoy a peaceful joy? O unjust Heaven! My brother is my rival! Am I not mistaken? Narbal, did you speak the truth? He wants to take Eudoxia from me; he leaves Sophronia! The king pushes tyranny that far! Great gods, to what use he puts his promises! But have you not learned with what sentiments The empress viewed this foolhardy design? Will my princess make opposition to their wishes? Do they intend to use absolute power to force her?

204 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES



NARBAL You’ll be able to learn that from her own lips. (Enter Eudoxia.)



EUDOXIA (to Thrasimund who looks at her for some time without speaking to her)32 You say nothing to me, sir! All things conspire …



THRASIMUND I’m seeking in your eyes what I must tell you.

685 690

EUDOXIA Don’t you still find that within your own heart? But doubtless, sir, that heart is silent toward me; It does not share the anguish that consumes me. If your heart still had feelings left for me, You would not need, to make a lengthy speech, To seek useless assistance in my eyes. What a change has happened in you in one hour! Ah, I see all too well it’s time for me to die; Now nothing more can prevent me from expiring; When one’s no longer loved, one must die, ingrate.

695 700

THRASIMUND I’ve stopped loving you! So what am I doing, madam? When I, confused, uncertain, filled with despair, And holding back tears that are about to flow, Seek in your eyes to be able to discern Whether it’s as my sister or as my beloved That I must speak to you …

EUDOXIA Why, do you suspect My heart could be that weak? Gods, don’t you know …



THRASIMUND Your fear has ended my deadly embarrassment. Eudoxia still loves me; I’ve nothing more to fear:

32. Mute scenes relying on gesture and facial expressions to produce pathos were unusual in the seventeenth century but became quite common in the following century.

Genseric 205

Rival, king, father …

EUDOXIA Alas, how pitiable we are! 705 No one wastes time in sighing over me; His brutal fury, threats made by the king— Those are Prince Huneric’s formidable arms, To counter which, you know, I’ve nothing but my tears.



THRASIMUND So you count as naught the aid of my fighting arm?

710

EUDOXIA Against a brother, sir, I do not count it. However strong the hatred that inflames me, I’d never want it to make you commit a crime.

715 720

THRASIMUND Why, instead you’d rather make my rival happy! Adorable princess, you don’t love properly! But, despite your arguments, if he’s insolent Enough to commit the least violence against you, That rival will learn how strong the anger is From a brother lucky enough to be loved by you. Your beauty silences nature in my heart; I’ll punish that ingrate, that insolent, perjured man, In the sight of Genseric, amidst his court; Henceforth I recognize no master but Cupid.

725

EUDOXIA I beg of you, restrain these tender outbursts; Genseric comes toward us, he might overhear you; Keep your resentment carefully hidden, sir. (Enter Genseric and Ispar.)



GENSERIC I was going to look for you in your apartments. I intend to push you into a pleasing match; The empress should just now have informed you of it, And doubtless, madam, she has told you how far

206 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 730

My kindness goes in ending your misfortunes.



EUDOXIA (aside) Good gods, what kindness!

THRASIMUND (aside) Ah, barbaric harshness!



GENSERIC What causes your tears, madam? And what sorrow …

735

EUDOXIA Overcome by fear and grief at the same time, Can I be asked what cause I have for tears? Alas, when my mind reviews sad memories, The pitiful history of my family’s woes, When I recall Rome preyed on by your soldiers, When I feel my chains, how could I fail to weep?

740

GENSERIC You weep for Rome, but should you cherish it? The city still reeks with your father’s blood. Forget the memories of that ungrateful land; Become African through marriage to my son.

745

EUDOXIA The tears that guilty Italy has shed Have wiped away the blood that it was filled with; If its crimes are great, its woes are infinite, And in short, I only see crimes that are punished. Death has served as payment for its treacheries. By paying that price, Carthage will deserve to please me.



GENSERIC Madam, stop abusing all my kindness to you.

750

EUDOXIA I cannot forget all your cruelties.



GENSERIC To bind you to my son by solemn marriage

Genseric 207

Is not the sign of a very cruel heart, madam. This noble plan, by freeing you from your chains, Leaves all roads to the empire open to you.

755 760

EUDOXIA Why, what do I care what happens to the empire? The only goal I aspire to is a calm life; Let me enjoy that, sir; the state I’m in Fills me with dread for all these royal honors. The fact that I count among my ancestors So many Caesars only adds to my shame today; I’d feel the excess of my woes less keenly If I had the blood and feelings of a slave.

765

GENSERIC These noble sentiments, these prideful words, Display great courage in your youthful heart. Wed Huneric; I demand it; that’s enough; I’ve declared my views; if you do not obey, Nothing will stop me from making you recognize, Despite such great pride, that you have a master.

770 775

EUDOXIA Whatever rights Fortune gives you over me, I won’t be any less an emperor’s daughter. From that illustrious rank and great heritage I retain only the pride; that’s my whole share; I will conserve it to my dying breath. Everything else, sir, subject to laws of change, May follow faithless Fortune, to your liking; But my sad heart is independent of it. (Exit.)



GENSERIC Beware of forcing me to take drastic measures. I’ll show little respect for these forebears you boast of. In short, I’m losing patience with your pride.

780

THRASIMUND If I may dare, upon my knees, to ask a favor …

208 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

Your reputation, sir …

GENSERIC A wise potentate Must sacrifice his fame to his state’s welfare.

785 790

THRASIMUND You’ve a duty to the state; but, sir, it seems to me That here it and your fame are compatible. Having betrothed your son, is he yours to give? Don’t you remember that calamitous day When the enraged populace caused you such alarm? The onslaught of your troops did not subdue them. What secured Genseric’s hold on the throne of Carthage Was the match between Sophronia and Prince Huneric; You were forced to swear it; only Sophronia’s youth Made you delay the time for the ceremony. If you don’t conclude it, I foresee against you …

795

GENSERIC Heaven has taken care to release me from my oath; Had it approved my promise, even briefly, It would have sparked tender feelings in their hearts. It’s vainly that we count on our own will; It’s up to Heaven to keep the things we promise.



THRASIMUND Even if I draw your anger down upon me …

800

GENSERIC In short, all I can do for Sophronia is To procure her from among the nearby rulers A husband to console her for my earlier plan. She will consent to that.

THRASIMUND By that policy You’ll leave Africa open to boundless strife; 805 Your name will be hated by posterity; And your broken oaths will …

Genseric 209 GENSERIC What foolhardiness! What makes you vain enough to tell me how to act? Is it to you that I owe the glorious series Of so many long campaigns and glorious exploits 810 That have raised me above all other kings? Is it your valor, is it your wise counsels That make my power respected in my lands? Have you forgotten what respect is owed me? Ungrateful son … THRASIMUND No, I’ve not lost respect. 815 I know my duty, sir; as king, as father, In every way I cherish your good name. Sophronia has rights that cannot be contested; The man she weds will be able to profit from them. The people, who have always taken her side …

820

GENSERIC Very well, we’ll have to marry her in Carthage.



THRASIMUND She won’t accept a subject as her husband.



I believe that.



GENSERIC

THRASIMUND So then, who will marry her?

GENSERIC You. THRASIMUND Me? Great gods! Sir, what name have you just spoken? Sophronia? GENSERIC And for what reason is your heart complaining? 825 Is Africa’s heiress someone to despise?

210 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

You’re all too lucky to be able to wed her.

830

THRASIMUND I, wed someone who’s supposed to wed my brother! My heart has always held Sophronia dear; I’ve good reason to think that she esteems me; But my heart, accustomed to this name of sister, Could not feel passionate love or pay court to her, And not think it was filled with criminal desire. If it’s not your intention, sir, to hate me, Do not force me to disobey your will.

835

GENSERIC Arguments such as those are frivolous. But in order not to waste too much time talking, Tomorrow I’ll attach, by the sweetest bonds, Eudoxia to your brother and Sophronia to you. Don’t anger a king who jealously guards his power.

840

THRASIMUND I owe you a blind and prompt obedience; My duty and reason clearly show me that; But a heart recognizes neither reason nor duty.

GENSERIC Ispar, arrange all things for this grand celebration. [to Thrasimund] If you fail to obey, your head’s at stake; 845 Ponder that. I leave you; and, without more delay, Go, prince, prepare yourself for this wedding day. (Exeunt Genseric and Ispar.)

850

THRASIMUND What torture, you gods! What, must I always see My father on one side, my princess on the other! I’ll be assailed by the most sacred duties! O wretched Thrasimund, what will you decide? Listen to your reason; stop now and consider That you have obligations to your king, your father. But, alas, if I have duties to them both, Have I no duties to the one I love?

Genseric 211 855 860 865 870

Ah, I feel my tenderness sways me in that direction. Nature, it’s done; your power is the less strong; But don’t complain of it; one sees all other Duties equally give way to a lover’s duty. Let’s hesitate no longer in this utmost danger; Let’s leave this land, Narbal, to save my beloved. But, gods, I’ll merely exchange my woes for others, And I’ll have rivals in all my protectors.33 So by what means can I escape the cares that irk me? Doesn’t my bad fortune come from Huneric? I no longer acknowledge him as my brother, Narbal; I see in him nothing but a hateful rival. Let’s bring down upon his guilty head this swarm Of misfortunes that his love prepares for me. Even if this just design costs me my life, I must extinguish this love in his blood. I’ve left his boldness unpunished for too long; Let’s avenge Eudoxia and Sophronia on This lover. He dares pay court to my fair princess!



An attempt on his life!

NARBAL

THRASIMUND Stop objecting to it. 875 In the horrid despair my father drives me to, To take revenge and die is my sole hope. Was it not enough to have suffered great sorrow When seeing my princess weighed down with chains? Was it not enough to have received my life 880 From a king, her foe, a king who has betrayed her? Was it not enough to see him thrust me aside When I fell at his feet to seek her freedom? Was it, finally, not enough, to show his anger, To have made me find a rival in a brother, 885 Without, cruel man! commanding me that tomorrow I give to Sophronia both my heart and hand? To him perjury seems not to be a crime; Nothing’s illegitimate if it makes me suffer; 33. Believing that anyone who beholds Eudoxia will fall in love with her, Thrasimund fears that turning to other kings for refuge would lead to her marrying one of them.

212 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 890

And thanks to all the care he takes to persecute me, I see, Narbal, no further ills to dread; I can safely challenge Fortune to do still worse.



NARBAL Sir, if you did not have rare fortitude … (Enter Sophronia and Justine.)



SOPHRONIA I’ve come … You’re taken aback on seeing me! Must I believe, sir, what the king has told me?

895

THRASIMUND Ah, to add to your mishaps, he is all too truthful; He’s broken the oath that pledged you to my brother; I’ve learned that as your husband he intends A prince whose heart cannot be worthy of you.

SOPHRONIA Filled with a charming and dangerous idea 900 That has ruled my soul ever since early childhood, Perhaps I failed to understand his words. When one’s in love, sir, one always clings to hope. I doubtless believed, given my consuming passion, That the king fathomed the secret of my heart 905 And that he intended me for that young hero Whom Cupid made fatal to my peace of mind. I imagined a fate full of happiness and glory. But you must judge whether I should believe it. This husband, with whom, I thought, they flattered my hopes 910 Is one of those men whose sight is dangerous; Just one glance from him carries into one’s soul, Along with pleasure, passion and disorder. His tender and proud air, which touches and surprises, His merit, his mind, against which there’s no defense, 915 A great and noble soul, an illustrious valor— These traits make this prince worthy to conquer hearts.



THRASIMUND I thought my brother was fortunate enough To make your heart constant and fulfill your wishes;

Genseric 213 920

And I already named Fortune as cruel For breaking off the plan of such a happy union. But, from what I now see …

SOPHRONIA If you could know The efforts I have made to follow my duty, You’d give less blame to the feelings I display. Alas, can one control one’s wild emotions? 925 Is the heart involved with loving or with hating?34 It merely obeys orders from destiny. So long as the promise made to me was in force, I hid the anguish that consumed my soul; And you wouldn’t have learned about my secret grief, 930 Had Prince Huneric not formed another match. I would have sacrificed my life’s happiness To the peaceful state that my homeland enjoys. But since a lucky chance restores my freedom, Will you stand in the way of making me happy? 935 You have full power, sir, over the man I love; You control my fate.

THRASIMUND I, madam?

SOPHRONIA You yourself. I will not tell you anything more, sir; it Is not yet time to open my heart to you. However, you must save me from the unworthy match 940 To which, you say, the king just now condemned me. What a strange, tender effect of the impressions That violent passions make on lovers’ hearts! Whatever you tell me, it still seems to me That the king spoke to me of the prince I worship. 945 To undeceive me, please inform me who Is this unworthy husband whom the king spoke of. 34. This curious question is linked to the belief, to which many of the characters subscribe (or at least pretend to), that at the time of marriage one gives one’s heart along with one’s hand. With arranged marriages, the parties, who are not generally consulted, must adapt their feelings. Alternatively, Sophronia may mean that since passions are determined by fate, she bears no real responsibility for failing to love the man to whom she was originally betrothed.

214 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

Let my anger rage against his bad qualities.

950 955

THRASIMUND He’s of high birth; he has some abilities; In short, he’s only unworthy of becoming Your spouse because his heart cannot belong to you; He burns for someone else, and nothing, madam, Can extinguish this sincere flame in his heart. The power of the king, that of your charms, Not even death itself can make it end. That’s who the husband is …

SOPHRONIA Justine, what have I done? Sir, I recognize the spouse they intend for me; To attempt further concealment would be pointless; You’ve grasped my meaning, and I now grasp yours. (Exeunt Sophronia and Justine.)

NARBAL Her eyes display a frightening anger, sir.

960 965 970

THRASIMUND Must I be responsible for fate’s caprices? So Sophronia believed … What sudden horror That name just brought into my inmost heart! Despite myself I feel it shudder and get disturbed; The more I try to shake that thought, the more my fear Augments. Why is that name hateful? What alarms me? And what have I to fear from one who loves me? To such vain terrors let’s not sacrifice Affection … All my blood freezes in my veins. In the premonitions caused by such gripping fear, Heaven, spare Eudoxia, and crush only me.

Act IV (Enter Huneric and Ispar.)

ISPAR Don’t get discouraged, sir; whatever she does,

Genseric 215

One day she will indeed have to satisfy you. When you see her flare up at you, don’t be annoyed; One must let an angry woman shed her tears.

975

HUNERIC No, I was not born for the shameful weakness Of weeping and pining at a princess’ feet. Let others listen to her insolent refusals; Whatever the king orders, I’ll see her no more.

980 985

ISPAR What! You so readily give up your claims To the most glorious fate a mortal can expect! A young woman’s wrath stuns this great heart, which finds There is no happiness without a throne! To renounce the hope of gaining the Roman Empire, Because a princess dares to contradict you! The king will condemn such great timidity. He thought you had, sir, far more strength of will.

HUNERIC And I would think I lacked a noble heart If I paid court, Ispar, to one who insults me. There are other means both quicker and more certain; 990 And if the king believes me, within two days … (Enter Thrasimund.)

THRASIMUND Prince, I was seeking you.

Tell me, sir?

HUNERIC What might you have to

THRASIMUND You’ll know soon. Make him withdraw: My heart, for its declaration, wants no witnesses.



HUNERIC (to Ispar) Go and tell the king how my wooing turned out.

216 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES [Exit Ispar.]

995

THRASIMUND You know the affection I have for Sophronia? You know that it’s you she is supposed to marry?



HUNERIC I know that, to calm rebels in their fury, They made me pledge my hand and my heart to her.

1000

THRASIMUND However, people here spread a report; They say that, faithless to Sophronia and yourself, You love the princess and that you intend To obtain today the hand that you desire.

1005

HUNERIC They are not well informed about my inner feelings. Eudoxia’s charms, though great, don’t make me love her; And when I limit my desires to marrying her, My projects are not projects based on love.

1010

THRASIMUND What, then, are those projects? What! For this princess … In short, prince, I support Sophronia’s interests; Without insulting me she can’t be offended. I’ve already told you that; now think it over. Even if this resentment led me to my doom, I’ll resort to overt force to avenge her; and In Africa it won’t be said in the future …



HUNERIC The king makes no complaint, and that’s enough for me.

1015

THRASIMUND Have you forgotten that Heaven placed me at birth In a rank allowing me to give you orders?



HUNERIC You overvalue the little that I owe you.

Genseric 217



THRASIMUND You overvalue the king’s capricious conduct.



HUNERIC What he calls reasonable, you call caprice.

1020

THRASIMUND I know you both well, and I do you justice.



HUNERIC This is not the first time that your jealous spirit Can’t abide that he prefers me over you.



THRASIMUND Heaven has consoled me for that preference By placing some other difference between us.

1025 1030

HUNERIC Heaven once placed between the king and Gontaris The same inequality that’s seen between us. Genseric, scorned by that arrogant brother, Had just the good luck of being liked by his father; Heaven finally relented in his favor, And rid him permanently of a proud older brother.35



THRASIMUND This example flatters your wish for a fate like his; Your hatred for me bursts forth in this hope. We must satisfy it; and, to raise you up, Let’s go see whether Heaven will dare relent.36

1035

HUNERIC Let’s go, let’s go, sir … But see, here’s the princess. Use all your skill to get away from her; There are certain reasons making me avoid her. We’ll meet again soon.

35. Gontaris (or Gunderic), half-brother and predecessor of Genseric, died in 428. Procopius relates two accounts of his death: he was captured by the Germans during a battle and executed, or else Genseric had him murdered in order to seize power (III.3.32–33). 36. In other words, if Huneric kills Thrasimund in a duel, he automatically becomes heir to the throne, and dynastic succession was believed to represent the will of the gods.

218 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

Follow you.

THRASIMUND Nothing can stop me; I’ll

(Exit Huneric; enter Eudoxia and Camilla.) EUDOXIA You flee in order not to hear me! 1040 Is that, from a lover, what I should expect When I come in tears to ask him for his help Against a new misfortune threatening my life? Ah, sir! THRASIMUND Gods, someone dares attack your life! Ah, there’s nothing that I would not sacrifice, 1045 Madam. Do not spare me; speak without delay; Against what enemies must I give battle?

1050

EUDOXIA Against the despair I’ve been caused by the news Of a marriage that makes you break faith with me. Through speeches filled with the most flaming passion, Through tender glances, reassure my heart; Force me to forget everything that I dread. Sir, that’s the help Eudoxia asks you for.

1055 1060

THRASIMUND I won’t swear hateful oaths to you in order To destroy a suspicion that I find insulting, Madam; I disdain a path so base. It’s by My actions I want people to believe me; They will speak to you, and perhaps today The excess of my love will be your only torment. Perhaps the outcome of what I am planning … But despite myself, madam, I have to leave you; By being with you I’m losing precious moments That I’ll put to better use to serve our love.



EUDOXIA Where are you running, sir? My mother approaches …

Genseric 219



THRASIMUND (aside) What! Always some obstacle to my just vengeance! (Enter Empress.)

1065 1070

EMPRESS What agitated pain shows in your face? Your Africa, sir, enjoys a perfect calm; The base and fearful souls of your neighboring princes Have for a long time kept your valor idle; Your vessels every year bring to your ports The rarest treasures from the Orient; The people cherish you; the whole court does likewise; Heaven placed in you dazzling good qualities; And to crown your wishes with the sweetest pleasures The wedding torch is soon to be lit for you.

1075 1080 1085

THRASIMUND I’d rather have the whole universe against me! I’d rather perish at my own hand before you! Madam, the time is past when I can hide from you The violent love that I feel burning me. Concentrate all your wrath on me alone; Take vengeance on the son for the father’s insults; Despise and punish an audacious prince Who dares to lift his eyes up to the princess. I adore her … Strike me … My death would be only Too fine; I’d die at her feet and die faithful. Far from punishing the love …

EMPRESS Do not suspect me Of having feelings so cruel and so base. Sir, far from making you the target of my vengeance, I owe you nothing but esteem and gratitude; And if one day I made you Eudoxia’s husband, 1090 I wouldn’t think I had fully paid you back.



THRASIMUND How much you fail to do justice to her charms! Ah, madam, my attentiveness and weak services

220 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 1095 1100

Pale in comparison to the glorious hope That you allow my loving heart to conceive! What have I done for you that another could not? But what more could I do against a king, a father? And why, in short, don’t you have as enemies Rulers against whom all things would be allowed me? Wishing nothing more than the honor of having served you, I’d go and seize from them both crown and life; And even if I should find certain death there, I‘d not complain of such a glorious fate.

1105

EMPRESS (to Eudoxia) You may share that passion, you who are its cause; Besides, you alone can show gratitude for it. Whatever my heart might do, it would owe more payment; A love can be paid back only through love.

1110

THRASIMUND If you obey the order that you’re given, Madam, there is no danger that can stun me; There is no plan that I cannot succeed in. Simply command; my love will have the power.



EUDOXIA Why, against Genseric what could it do? He, sir, is still your king, your father. In vain Do you offer me the help of a tender love; Duty will always win out over love.

THRASIMUND 1115 No, my princess; I obey without reserve; I examine nothing, provided that I serve you. My crimes will be authorized by your beauty, And by all lovers they will be excused. (to the empress) This very night, madam, I undertake 1120 To make you leave behind this hated Carthage. I’ll go assemble my friends from various places, Ask for their help that I’d refused before. For such loyal friends nothing will be too hard. Narbal will inform Camilla of the timing. 1125 For the rest of the day let us still keep concealed

Genseric 221

On your side your hope, on mine my violent love. Genseric does not know the secret of my soul, And if he discovered it, he’d ruin us, madam.



EMPRESS Have no fear, sir; we know how to disguise.

1130

EUDOXIA Go, prince, and beware of taking too much risk. (Exit Thrasimund.)



EMPRESS About to leave captivity, you shed tears!

1135

EUDOXIA Madam, forgive justified anxiety: The prince perhaps will make my sorrow greater, And I always expect still more misfortunes. Alas, if he perished, if for our defense …

1140 1145

EMPRESS Oh, let’s not create misfortunes for ourselves In advance; let’s fully enjoy a pleasing hope. Fortune has always loved dramatic changes; And, weary of making cruel war against us, Her inconstant mood now calls us back to peace. Let’s have no doubt, daughter; and, rather than Abuse her, let’s actively help her favor us. Let’s involve Sophronia in our angry feelings. Huneric despises her; the king has betrayed her; Her friends are powerful … (Enter Sophronia.)

SOPHRONIA I’m jilted in your favor, But, far from feeling jealous over that, I come to assure you, princess, and you, madam, That I would work to serve Prince Huneric’s passion At the expense of my glory and my heart,

222 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 1150

If by that means your misfortunes could be ended. I tremble when I think of what’s in store for you. Just think how far a barbarian’s fury can Go; he respects nothing; and you always must Fear for your reputation or for your lives.

1155

EMPRESS Madam, I owe a lot to this great zeal; But your lover might remain faithful to you. Despite so many dangers, I won’t mingle The blood of Genseric with that of the Caesars; Rome will not see the man who caused its misery …

1160

SOPHRONIA But Huneric and Thrasimund are brothers, Madam; and though both are formed from the same blood, You do not place the two of them in the same rank.



EMPRESS And what makes you judge that I’ve a preference? Do I treat Thrasimund any differently?

1165 1170

SOPHRONIA You vainly hide from me how far his good fortune Goes. He has confided all to me: plans, sorrows, Hopes; and my heart, touched by a love so tender, Makes me undertake all things to set you free. I’m working on that, madam; and by a great scandal I intend today to take vengeance on an ingrate.

1175 1180

EMPRESS Prince Thrasimund told you truly, madam, when He spoke to you of his fortunate love. What he has done for us in Rome and here Should seem to the Romans worthy of my forebears; And if I could give him, with my daughter’s hand, The empire that fate snatched from my family, I’d think I was restoring Rome’s old glory By making it fall into such good hands. May Heaven favor his courageous efforts So well that we can soon abandon Carthage!

Genseric 223

Madam, do you believe he can carry out The plan he resolved to try this very night? If your friends join his, and with equal ardor, Will they be able …

SOPHRONIA (aside) At last I know my rival. 1185 (to the empress) You are troubling yourself with useless cares; In this affair we’ll do more than you think. You’ll see whether I know how to punish the man Who spurns me, and what fair outcome this plan will have. The ingrate will pay dearly for refusing me his heart.

1190

Here’s the king, madam.

EMPRESS

(Enter Genseric and Hamilcar, captain of the guards.) SOPHRONIA (to Genseric) Sir, you are betrayed. Prince Thrasimund, urged on by his tender love, Tonight intends to carry off the princess.



EMPRESS O gods! What have I done?



EUDOXIA Heaven! Our plans are betrayed!



GENSERIC What, madam, you’re the one who’s seduced my son!

1195

SOPHRONIA To satisfy their vengeance and their hatred, Perhaps he thinks of killing you as well. (Exit.)



GENSERIC (to Eudoxia) Yes, of course, you give your heart on that condition; But I’ll surely keep him from acting on his fury.

224 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES Son, not worthy to live, your hopes are thwarted. 1200 (to Hamilcar) Go, ask him for his sword, at my command; And if this foolhardy man dares to resist you, It’s his head that you must bring me, Hamilcar. (Exit Hamilcar.)



EUDOXIA Dear prince, to what perils your love exposes you!

EMPRESS [to Genseric] Ah, show less weakness in a kingly soul! 1205 Barbarian, your worries for your life are vain. Can you imagine that in a Roman heart A thought so base and treacherous can be found? Come now, my daughter’s not the reward for murder. I would disown her if in any respect 1210 She dishonored the Caesars’ noble blood. You refuse to listen! I see why you’re shaken. [to Eudoxia] It’s not your heart, daughter, that he suspects; It’s his son’s heart; only that makes him tremble. He thinks his son must be just like himself. (Enter Ispar and a guard.)

1215 1220

ISPAR Thrasimund, sir, rebels against your orders. The people mutiny and support his cause; And, not considering that he takes arms against you, He attacks your soldiers and disperses them all. But what will add, sir, to your anger is: He was disarming his brother when Hamilcar found him.



GENSERIC Ah Heaven, I imagine him stabbed countless times!



ISPAR Huneric, sir, is wounded, but just slightly.



GENSERIC (to Eudoxia) He wants to take control of your fate, madam;

Genseric 225 1225

But in such a project that traitor will perish. Go, Ispar, gather up my scattered soldiers, And have them charge him from every direction. (Reenter Hamilcar.)



HAMILCAR Sir, the prince is captured.



EUDOXIA Ah, what cruel fortune!

GENSERIC I entrust this rebel, Hamilcar, to your care; Lead him to a safe place; I must make him pay 1230 For his black crimes against his brother and the state. The faithless man will die for his misdeeds. (to Eudoxia) And you, madam, be ready to obey me. Remember, I’m all-powerful. EUDOXIA Base, faithless king, Your Africa holds nothing crueler than you. (Exeunt Genseric, Ispar, Hamilcar, guard.) 1235 He’s doomed, madam, and his barbaric father Will sacrifice him to make his brother happy.

1240 1245

EMPRESS To shed his son’s blood he is cruel enough; But love will act to save this great criminal. Whatever proud Sophronia may have done against him, It’s from her I expect his freedom and his life. For hearts in love there are sudden reversals; And if I can find a favorable moment, You’ll see me lower myself to plead with her. I’m off to seek her; you can wait for me; Seeing a loved rival would make her grief more bitter. Restrain your anguish. (Exit.)

226 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES EUDOXIA What aid for my heart! Heaven persecutes me in everything I cherish. I’ve seen the pitiable fall of my family, I see that my lover shortly will be killed; 1250 And they can order me not to feel distress! No, whatever your fate, dear prince, I must follow it. How could I live without you or your love? But what am I doing? Ah, speaking is useless! I speak to my lover and perhaps he is no more. 1255 For my sensitive heart what a cruel image! Let’s forestall this dreadful tiding with my death; Let’s go off to escape from all my sorrows. For me death is not the greatest of misfortunes.

Act V (Enter Sophronia and Justine.)

1260

JUSTINE Madam, please give some respite to your sorrows; Day is almost breaking …

SOPHRONIA Is there a baser heart? What have I done? What horror must I blame myself For? I wish I could hide in the depths of hell. As a wretched plaything of an unjust fortune, I find daylight bothersome and irritating. 1265 I’ve suffered for too long; ever since the cradle All my days have been marked by some new misfortune. But at least, during the course of dreadful miseries, I had been only unfortunate, as you know; And in an innocence equal to my sorrows, 1270 I had not yet deserved my suffering. O gods, what has become of that innocence? Alas, to avenge my spurned love I have lost it With a betrayal worthy of a thousand deaths. Dear prince, I’ve done all my plotting against you; 1275 I’m the one whose jealousy, black and barbaric, Will rob you of life by the executioner’s sword.

Genseric 227

What mark of love have I just given you? Alas, is murdering you a sign of loving you?

1280

JUSTINE I beg you, restrain the anguish that consumes you; You have the infallible remedy for your woes. Carthage adores you; all its citizens Will risk their lives and property for you. A tender memory of your illustrious father Makes them … (Enter Ispar.)

1285 Ispar?

SOPHRONIA What hope must I have for Thrasimund,

ISPAR They’re making plans for his execution; But, thanks be to Heaven, the people support your cause; Never was there zeal so strong and so sincere. They have seized the port; they’re guarding every entry; And, by a lucky chance, this great crowd mingles 1290 Your interests, madam, with those of Thrasimund. Your friends and his want, whatever may befall, Huneric to wed you and Thrasimund to live. You have so well disguised the love you feel That they think this marriage is what your heart aims at; 1295 And these tears that they saw you shed just now Produced the full effect that could have been expected. Genseric, astounded by this great reversal, Can’t figure out how to calm the mutinous crowd.37 Alarmed by the senate’s plans, he prudently 1300 Has his army, madam, occupied far from here. And to free themselves from a cruel and dreadful yoke, The crowd couldn’t have chosen a more lucky moment.

37. Mutinies, always kept off stage, were fairly common in French tragedy and tend to display the public’s support for legitimate and virtuous rulers or leaders. But in this case, the crowd’s lack of training and of weapons can have only a short-term success; they would be no match for the naval invasion that Genseric proposes in order to suppress them (ll. 1397–1400).

228 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

1305 1310

SOPHRONIA Let Heaven dispose of Africa as it pleases; It’s love that occupies my thoughts, not politics. If today the people don’t besiege the palace, If Genseric doesn’t grant their ardent wish To give full freedom to the prince I worship, If after all that he can still disdain me, If his love for Eudoxia still is manifested, I’ll listen to no voice but that of my despair.



ISPAR You’re not reduced to such an extremity; Our strife will have a more peaceful conclusion. But, madam, I hear the king who’s coming toward us. For your lover’s sake, keep this great anger hidden. (Enter Genseric.)

1315 1320 1325

GENSERIC Under your name Carthage dares to take up arms. Is that the way you intend to show off your charms? And are all the chaos and horror found in war Suitable, madam, for winning over hearts? Are these cruel sentiments my reward for having So tenderly brought you up since you were small? Without the care I took and all my kindness, You wouldn’t have stayed alive for very long. Your death was required to keep Africa at peace; But, too humane a victor and a bad strategist, I, far from attacking your life, through countless favors …

1330

SOPHRONIA Alas, how many woes you would have spared me! But don’t disguise the reason that preserved me: You kept me alive for your security. Without me, your power was on a weak foundation; You were viewed less as a king than as a foe. Always some reversal, always some great storm Threatened your state, rumbled over your head. The hope of my marriage calmed the people down; At that price they let you enjoy African rule;

Genseric 229 1335 1340

And just when you thought Carthage was subjugated, Your faithless nature did not belie itself. Sir, you’ve forgotten all your promises, And the people could not tolerate these changes; They insisted on avenging your insult to me By all the dreadful perils you now face. I need tell you no more; you recognize this.

1345

GENSERIC Those perils are not as great as you believe. The foolhardy people take up arms for you. Your life will answer to me for what they might do. It’s you who expose yourself to your dire fate. I owe a great lesson to the rebellious crowd; I know it’s cruel, but however it is judged, I insist, in short, on being master of my realm. Withdraw now.

SOPHRONIA Tyrant, yes, I shall withdraw 1350 But it won’t be to moan or weep; I wish To spare myself the sight of a man I hate. (Exit Sophronia and Justine.)



GENSERIC In fact, I know your treachery all too well. This hatred … (Enter Hamilcar.)

HAMILCAR Ah, sir, your soldiers are defeated, And the rebels … GENSERIC Well, then?



HAMILCAR They have stormed this palace.

230 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

1355

GENSERIC My subjects carry their violence that far! And Heaven sanctions such great insolence!

1360

HAMILCAR With fury in their eyes and boldness in their faces, They make the air resound with Thrasimund’s name; And this prince, in love, held back by no respect, Will head their ranks to avenge his beloved. In This pressing danger …

GENSERIC Stop feeling alarmed, Hamilcar; I well know how to disarm him. Let my usual prudence operate on this; Countless times it has surmounted adverse fortune; 1365 Through it, without soldiers, I’ve scored countless triumphs. The art of dissimulation is a king’s great art.



Sir, I hear noises.

HAMILCAR

(Enter Thrasimund.) THRASIMUND [to his men offstage] Let no one enter here. (to Genseric) Far from seizing royal power from you, I View with regret this deadly change of fortune; 1370 And I’ve come, sir, only to take back my chains. Vainly do the people hope I’ll be their master; You’ll be in power here as long as you wish to. Whatever I’ve been charged with, to make me suspect, You’ll see in me only a respectful son. 1375 Yes, despite my passion and my jealous fears, I am … GENSERIC Let’s make neither reproaches nor complaints. I pardon you for everything; come, embrace me. I infinitely prefer to be a father than A king. Wed your charming princess; I consent;

Genseric 231 1380

And restore your full tenderness to me, my son. Go proclaim a peace; I am not jealous of The warm affection that the people have for you. Order my subjects to put down their weapons, And go to your princess to dry her tears.

1385 1390

THRASIMUND Ah, sir, just imagine all the feelings in A heart full of respect, love and repentance; As I’m ready to see a painful life conclude, You restore it to me along with countless pleasures. Surprised, abashed and charmed by all I hear, I can’t express the raptures that I feel. I’ll bring the rebels back to dutifulness; And since you, moved at last by my cruel suffering, Permit Eudoxia to complete my happiness, I hasten to make her fear and anguish cease. (Exit with Ispar.)

1405

GENSERIC The traitor in his frenzy, in his boundless fury, Thinks he already possesses his beloved; But, in order to quell the violence of his faction, I’m going to recall my ships into our ports; And once they have landed a hundred thousand men, I’ll permit the rebels to make war against me. Then I’ll be master; then I’ll choose which blood I’ll spill for the welfare of the state. Without Support Eudoxia will no longer be so proud … (Enter Huneric and Ispar.) But what do I see? Huneric, what brings you here? What are you doing, my son? And what pressing concern …

1410

HUNERIC My sole eagerness to serve you brought me here. I could not resist the pressing desire to Sacrifice to you the remnants of my life. Wounded as I am, sir, I’ve hastened here To share the hapless state that we’re reduced to; And, to reward my efforts, Ispar has just told me

1395 1400

232 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES

That you’re taking Eudoxia and the hope of empire From me! Did my brother’s crime cause his good fortune? Sir, is that the way people can touch your heart?

1415

GENSERIC My son, I forgive, because of your condition, All the bitterness that shows in your complaining. Crimes do not get rewarded by me, and Thrasimund is not so far along as you think.



Sir …

HUNERIC

GENSERIC He doubtless believes that he’ll wed the princess, 1420 And that you’ll fulfil my promise to Sophronia; But no day has been set for this double wedding, And I will wait for your health to be restored. Your wounds, my son, are a convenient pretext. Let’s calm the rebels; time will do the rest. 1425 Go see your brother and let’s conceal our plans Under the deceptive mask of a genuine peace; Appear satisfied at his happiness in love. (Enter Empress.)



EMPRESS Come see your son perish by a woman’s hand; Come feast your eyes on such a sweet spectacle.

1430

HUNERIC (leaving) Let’s hurry to help him.38

O gods!



GENSERIC Heaven! What are you telling me?

EMPRESS That Thrasimund, wounded by Sophronia,

38. This magnanimity is unexpected, given the rivalry between the two brothers. Clearly, Huneric feels a strong general loyalty toward his family members.

Genseric 233 1435 1440

In my daughter’s rooms just fell dead at her feet. I keenly felt the blow that pierced his heart; On seeing his blood flow, all my own froze. Don’t think that this was from tenderness or pity. A loftier feeling makes his death of interest To me: he adored my daughter, and I hoped that His love would one day lead to your destruction. But that love is no more; death has just quenched it; Tyrant, you’ve nothing left that can constrain you. As ultimate horror, go, hasten to kiss the hand That has just pierced the bosom of your son. Don’t fear that Heaven will smash you into dust; Since you still live, Heaven has no thunderbolt.

1445

GENSERIC I shortly will reply to this angry outburst. Withdraw, madam; go back to your apartments.



EMPRESS Unnatural father, monster whom I hate, Why don’t you give an order that’s more bloody? (Exit.)

1450

ISPAR Whatever the prince has done in his fatal passion, You’re still a father, sir; that’s visible; This great dejection that his death has cast you Into leaves no doubt that a secret sorrow …

1455 1460

GENSERIC Yes, I admit it, Ispar, I’m a father, and Feel that one’s efforts to forget it have no force. On learning of his death, my soul was greatly shaken; I heard nothing further once I got that news. Nature asserts itself; surprised and troubled, I’m overwhelmed now with useless remorse. Gods! Can a girl have such a cruel soul? What harm could Thrasimund have done to her? But, since there is no remedy for her crime, Let’s think how we might profit from her misdeed.

234 ANTOINETTE DESHOULIÈRES 1465

She claims to have some right over Africa: Let’s hide expediency under the name of justice; Let’s punish her for murdering my son. Her death will rid us of all our enemies. Ispar, go arrest Sophronia at once. (Enter Justine.)

1470

JUSTINE Ah, sir, she herself, before my eyes, has punished Herself. Alas, she has just died in my arms. Forgive me, sir, if I dare weep for her; Having been brought up with her from earliest youth …



GENSERIC To stab Thrasimund and then take her own life! What could have led her to such extreme behavior?

1475 1480 1485 1490 1495

JUSTINE I’m going to reveal some sad truths to you. In any case, The time for concealment’s past, to save her good name. Love compelled her to do everything she did; Thrasimund spread this poison in her heart, And love within her overtook her reason. She couldn’t abide the fact that a cruel fate Had forced Thrasimund to love someone besides her; She revealed to you his love, his plans; then, seeing What danger he was incurring at your hands, By one of those shifts of feeling, common to lovers, She stirred up the people to what they just did. She thought his heart would surrender to this kindness, And this prince appeared more ungrateful than ever. “So I’ve labored so hard only for a rival,” She told me, “and the peace is fatal to me alone! How’s this? Through my influence, through my zeal, Justine, I’ve placed my lover in her arms! No, let’s disturb the pleasure love prepares for her; Let this sword avenge me on a barbarian through her.” After these words, she makes her way to Eudoxia, With the aim of punishing her criminal charms. At that fatal moment, Prince Thrasimund was lying

Genseric 235 1500 1505 1510 1515

At the princess’ feet, expressing his tenderness. Her rival’s fortune makes her sorrow keener; She raises her arm to pierce the princess’ heart; Eudoxia dodges the blow that threatens her. The prince moves forward, tries to restrain this boldness; The arm that she lifted falls, pierces his breast, And frustrates a wild plan by piercing him. One sees Sophronia’s weapon falling from her hands; Her mouth makes no sighs, and her eyes no tears. The excess of her grief leaves her motionless; But, as she sees her hapless lover expire, She utters screams, and her criminal hand Picks up the dagger and turns it on herself. She falls, sir, right next to Thrasimund; Her blood flows with his and is mingled with it. She appears to be conscious of this deadly pleasure; And, wanting to give it her remaining moments, “Approach,” she tells me, making a great effort, “Console yourself, Justine, and don’t pity my fate. I reach my fatal hour without regret; At least in the tomb I’ll be without a rival! Since Thrasimund’s dying, I enter it with no fear; Eudoxia’s infinitely more to be pitied than I.” Saying those words, she expires. In vain my faithful care …

1520

GENSERIC Let the rebels be informed of these deadly tidings, And let’s hurry to Eudoxia to try …

ISPAR Ah, sir, Her despair might put an end to her misfortune; With Thrasimund dead, she cannot stay alive.39



GENSERIC Let’s go and with our care keep her from following him. END

39. The playwright suggests that Eudoxia may kill herself out of grief and/or to prevent her marriage to Huneric, to which there are no further obstacles. Her historical counterpart was indeed forced to wed Huneric.

Catherine Durand Biography Very little is known about the life of Catherine Durand.1 We know neither when she was born nor when she got married. It is said that she always used her maiden name Durand, rather than her married name of Bédacier, when publishing her works because she had begun her literary career prior to her marriage. In the preface of her last novel, Henry Duc des Vandales (1714), the editor states that her collection of historical novellas, Les Belles Grecques [The Beautiful Greek Ladies] (1712), was the last work she published prior to her death. If that is true, then her death would have occurred between 1712 and 1714. However, the preface to the collection of her posthumous writings, published in 1737, gives the impression that her death was a recent event. It is unclear who obtained official permission in 1732 for the publication of a multivolume edition of her complete works, but in all likelihood it was Durand herself, eager to perpetuate her literary reputation. If so, then she died in 1736, and the 1714 editor must have been misinformed. Most historians have opted for the 1736 date, and it is hard to understand why, had she really died earlier, her literary executor would have waited over two decades to publish the works left in manuscript. One way to reconcile the conflicting accounts is to speculate that she fell seriously ill in 1714 and that rumors of her death were circulated. If one further conjectures that she recovered but remained permanently incapacitated, that could explain why she published nothing more during the final portion of her life. Only one date in Durand’s biography is certain: in 1701 she won the annual poetry prize of the French Academy for an ode praising Louis XIV for displaying both the qualities of a well-bred man of the world and the talents of a king. Her output consists of a small number of short poems, an opera libretto that she deemed unfinished, two sets of works in dialogue form reproducing salon entertainments of the time (including the ten proverb comedies reproduced here), and a variety of novels, with either historical or contemporary settings. Several of the novels contain fairy tales, a literary form that rose to popularity in France during the final decade of the seventeenth century and of which most of the early practitioners were women active in the salons.

1. The best overall treatment of her is the brief chapter in Mary Elizabeth Storer’s book, Un Épisode littéraire de la fin du XVIIe siècle: La mode des contes des fées (1685–1700) (Paris, 1928; repr. Geneva: Slatkine, 1972).

237

238 CATHERINE DURAND

An Unusual Publication Strategy The ten proverb comedies appeared for the first time as an appendix to the second and final volume of an experimental novel entitled Voyage de campagne [A Trip to the Country], published under the name of the Countess de M*** by Claude Barbin in 1699. The author was Henriette-Julie de Castelnau, Countess de Murat (1668–1716), a well-known author of novels and fairy tales.2 To my knowledge, this is the first French novel ever to feature intercalated plays. In the first volume, there is another proverb comedy, but it is carefully integrated into the main plot and was clearly composed by Murat. The narrator declares on two occasions that the ten dramatic proverbs placed at the end of the novel were written by another author, who is designated only by the following description: “a person of great wit, by whom the history of Madame de Martane [sic] will shortly be seen to appear.” The identity of this second author was hardly a mystery to readers of the time: La Comtesse de Mortane, which appeared in 1699 (the same year as A Trip to the Country), was the first published work of fiction by Catherine Durand. The two authors never explained why they made such an unusual arrangement, whereby Murat gave over roughly one-quarter of the pages of her book to the work of Durand. They were good friends, and in Murat’s manuscript journal she states that when she abandoned work on a project about famous courtesans of antiquity, she entrusted it to Durand, who ultimately wrote the book, published as Les Belles Grecques. Presumably, Murat was eager to promote the literary career of Durand, who had published nothing up to that point, and she hoped that since a proverb comedy is featured within the novel, her readers might be sufficiently intrigued to want to read more such playlets. Moreover, since A Trip to the Country is a loosely structured work, the vast majority of which consists of intercalated stories (the seven protagonists’ accounts of their amorous adventures, a fairy tale, and a series of ghost stories), Murat may have realized that she had too much material for a one-volume publication, but not quite enough to fill up two volumes. If that was the case, she might have well asked Durand to compose a group of playlets to be included in the second volume. Durand, as an aspiring novelist, would have had nothing to lose and everything to gain by this genre-mixing strategy, of which I can find no other examples. To be sure, collaborative authorship and multiauthored publications were frequent among participants in literary salons of the seventeenth century, and aristocrats like Murat were more likely to try to hide their identity, since money-making activities were believed to be incompatible with their noble rank. It is noteworthy that when Durand arranged for the publication of her complete works, Œuvres de Madame Durand, she returned the favor: instead of 2. There is an English translation of A Trip to the Country by Perry Gethner and Allison Stedman (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 2011).

Proverb Comedies 239 including just her own works, she had the entirety of Murat’s novel reprinted as volume 2 of the collection. While the title page proclaims “Œuvres de Madame Durand,” there is a second title page that lists the title of the novel and attributes it, as in the 1699 edition, to “Madame la Comtesse de M***.” However, unlike the title page of the original edition, the 1734 edition adds mention of the proverb comedies by “Madame D***.” Obviously, everyone would have known who the latter was, since her name was spelled out on the first title page, so the use of initials on the second page was presumably a gesture of solidarity with her deceased friend.

History of a Home Entertainment As refined court life and informal literary societies both developed during the Renaissance, many sophisticated parlor games were introduced or codified. Some of these games featured proverbs: one could be called upon to enumerate proverbs beginning with a certain letter of the alphabet, to find a proverb that rhymed with another proverb, or to choose a proverb and follow it with a story or fable that illustrates its lesson. Two experimental stage works had been built around collections of these wise sayings. La Comédie des proverbes, published anonymously in 1633 and sometimes attributed to Adrien de Montluc, has its dialogue studded with proverbs. Le Ballet des proverbes, with text by Isaac de Benserade and performed at court in 1654, consists of vignettes based on proverbs. However, it is not clear whether these works had any impact on the dramatic proverb, though Charles Sorel, the first French writer to mention the form (in his compendium of games, La Maison des jeux [The House of Games], 1642), served in his youth as Montluc’s secretary. The dramatic proverb, an entertainment derived from charades, is a little play, either improvised or written out beforehand, that illustrates a well-known proverb but without mentioning the proverb within the play. The viewers of the performance are then required to guess which proverb inspired it. Sorel gives several examples of the game, noting that a proverb could be represented by a wide variety of plots and in a variety of dramatic registers. To illustrate the proverb “Courage against bad fortune” in the manner of a tragedy, one could show the adventures of a hero who faces a series of disasters with greatness of soul; to illustrate the same proverb in the manner of a farce, one could place the protagonist in a silly situation, such as falling into a muddy ditch while trying to climb up to his beloved’s window. According to Sorel, only a single spectator should be made to guess, with everyone else informed in advance of the correct answer. If the spectator cannot guess the proverb or gives a wrong answer, he must keep his place during other playlets until he guesses one correctly. Sorel also notes that he has seen this game in action.

240 CATHERINE DURAND There is no way to tell when this form of home entertainment became popular. I have found no references to it between the publication of Sorel’s book and that of Murat’s novel over fifty years later. Catherine Durand’s collection, along with Murat’s single playlet, constitutes the first time any such texts had ever been published. It is possible that their work contributed to a brief vogue, but, with one intriguing exception, nothing more is heard of proverb comedies until the middle of the following century.3 That exception comes from Mme de Maintenon, second wife of King Louis XIV, who directed a school at Saint-Cyr for orphaned daughters of the nobility. For their edification, she composed a variety of educational texts, and these included proverb comedies. Her playlets were presumably intended to be read aloud, rather than acted. These dramatic proverbs take far greater liberties with the rules of dramaturgy than those of Durand: the unities are not always observed, and in some cases two or more unrelated plots illustrate different aspects of the same theme. The didactic purpose is directly presented, and the message is often rather cynical. The girls must be prepared to face the unpleasant realities of real life that they will encounter once they leave Saint-Cyr to rejoin their families, to get married or to become nuns. They are expected to maintain their moral integrity, self-respect, and religious faith, to resign themselves to whatever position in life they are placed into, and to handle with competence such domestic responsibilities as managing finances or servants. Like all of Maintenon’s pedagogical texts, the playlets were not intended for publication, but they survived in manuscript and were first printed in 1829, over a century after her death.4 During the second half of the eighteenth century, however, these short comedies became wildly popular. A large number of playlets were published, with the most prolific author being Louis Carrogis de Carmontelle, who authored over two hundred of them, in eight volumes appearing from 1768 to 1781. It is likely that the reissuing of the work of Murat and Durand in 1734 played a role in the revival, aided by the widespread practice in that century of private theatricals, known as théâtres de société. Many wealthy bourgeois and aristocrats had actual theaters constructed in their homes and staged fullscale productions, using a combination of amateur and professional actors and 3. For the history of this subgenre, see Clarence D. Brenner, Le Développement du proverbe dramatique en France et sa vogue au XVIIIe siècle (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1937); Jean-Hervé Donnard, Le Théâtre de Carmontelle (Paris: Armand Colin, 1967). 4. For a discussion of Maintenon’s playlets, see Penny Brown, “Rehearsing the Future: Madame de Maintenon’s Proverbes dramatiques for the demoiselles at Saint-Cyr,” Seventeenth-Century French Studies 26 (2004): 209–18; Perry Gethner, “Money, Responsibility, and Lifestyle Choices in the Proverb Plays of Mme de Maintenon,” Origines: Actes du 39e congrès annuel de la NASSCFL, ed. Russell Ganim and Thomas M. Carr, Jr. (Tübingen: Gunter Narr, 2009), 287–95. There is a new critical edition: Madame de Maintenon, Proverbes dramatiques, ed. Perry Gethner and Theresa Varney Kennedy (Paris, Classiques Garnier, 2014).

Proverb Comedies 241 singers.5 Mme de Montesson was one of the leading champions of the dramatic proverb at the midpoint of the century, and when she became the mistress (later to be wife) of the Duke d’Orléans in 1766 the form gained widespread interest at court. Carmontelle was her playwright-in-residence, and it was likely she who persuaded him to publish his playlets, which he did to much acclaim. Many reasons contributed to the vogue for dramatic proverbs: they are short, making them easy to learn by a troupe of amateurs; they are humorous and witty, while avoiding vulgarity and indecency; they are inexpensive to stage, since they require little or no sets and often no special costumes. Some authors of dramatic proverbs claimed a moral value for their work; in fact, some authors, like Mme de Genlis, specifically designed their playlets for young people. When salon life resumed after the turbulent years of the French Revolution, dramatic proverbs regained some of their popularity. The fact that one of the greatest of Romantic playwrights, Alfred de Musset, wrote a number of works in this form, some of them still considered masterpieces, meant that the subgenre would not be forgotten by students of literature, even as it faded away as a home entertainment. Musset’s plays in this form continue to be staged in the twenty-first century, and there have been occasional revivals of playlets by Carmontelle at France’s premier theatrical company, the Comédie-Française.

Satire and Subversion By the latter part of the seventeenth century, the rules of dramatic decorum had become so rigid, especially in tragedy, that one could characterize the attitudes of critics and public as prudery. Restrictions on vocabulary, gestures, and basic situations were simply taken for granted when Durand was starting her career, and the situation would get even worse with the imposition of formal drama censorship in the first decades of the eighteenth century. In the private sphere of théâtres de société, however, there was total freedom. Indeed, starting in the early part of that century, one finds vulgar and sometimes obscene farces called parades. Somewhat surprisingly, a number of these works were published, and highly respected playwrights, such as La Chaussée, Collé, and Beaumarchais, were called upon to compose them. However, the authors of proverb comedies avoided indecency of language and gesture, while feeling free to present risqué situations and immoral characters. Durand also dared to satirize the aristocracy in a bolder and more subversive manner than was allowed in plays designed for public performance. 5. For a history of this phenomenon, see Victor Du Bled, La Comédie de société au XVIIIe siècle (Paris: Calmann-Lévy, 1893); Léo Clarétie, Histoire des théâtres de société (Paris: Librairie Molière, 1906); Pierre Mélèse, Le Théâtre et le public à Paris sous Louis XIV (1659–1715) (Paris, 1934; repr. Geneva: Slatkine, 1976), 394–402.

242 CATHERINE DURAND The final years of Louis XIV’s reign were a fascinating transitional period between the golden age of French absolutism and the Enlightenment. Old certainties were being increasingly challenged, and in a variety of areas, such as traditional religion, the political system, the social hierarchy, and the lesser status of women. Even in the French Academy leading intellectuals debated such issues as the validity of new artistic genres, the role of women in the cultural sphere, the possibility and desirability of progress in the arts and sciences, and the right of individuals to think for themselves and seek private happiness, free from political and societal control. Durand was clearly writing for a cultured but cynical audience that could no longer take seriously the conservative ideology of the previous generation, reflected in the comedies of Molière. Like some of her colleagues in the public theaters, especially Dancourt, Regnard, and Dufresny, she describes the decline in moral standards, the penchant for debauchery and excessive spending in high society, and the increasingly tolerated practice of letting husbands and wives lead separate lives. But at times she goes further than they do in presenting a debased aristocracy, where the men are boorish or stupid, and where the young women rebel, courageously but blindly, against social and moral constraints.6 In general, Catherine Durand’s female characters are more intelligent than the men and fully capable of thinking for themselves. Even an extremely conventional woman like Elise (number 9) speaks with wit and good sense and refuses to be impressed by excessive flattery. There are also women who display a remarkable independence of spirit, rejecting or at least questioning the social constraints imposed on their sex. Isabelle (number 1) refuses to marry a handsome young man who is a suitable match on social and economic grounds, once she realizes that the baseness of his character is incurable. She sufficiently reflects on the role of males in elegant society to be able to distinguish between activities that contribute to refinement, such as frequenting the salons, and those that are pure vices, such as frequenting taverns and gambling dens. She likewise grasps the manifest dangers in the behavior of wealthy bourgeois who ape the nobility with their excessive expenditures, especially for clothing and carriages, and their refusal to pay their debts. Finally, she is revolted by her fiancé’s contemptuous attitude toward her and women in general—an attitude shared by men of all classes, from Eraste’s valet (number 1) to a viscount and a baron (number 4). Mme de Montiré (number 2) dares to challenge what would come to be known as the préjugé à la mode [fashionable prejudice]: the belief that it was unseemly for a married man of noble rank to love his wife, spend much time with 6. For a fuller analysis of the playlets, see Perry Gethner, “Playful Wit in Salon Games: the Comedy Proverbs of Catherine Durand” in L’Esprit en France au XVIIe siècle, ed. François Lagarde (Paris: Papers on French Seventeenth Century Literature, 1997), 225–30. For the subversive nature of drama in that generation, see Guy Spielmann, Le Jeu de l’ordre et du chaos: Comédie et pouvoir à la fin de règne, 1673–1715 (Paris: Champion, 2002).

Proverb Comedies 243 her, and be faithful to her. (This would become a staple of eighteenth-century comedy.) After her repeated attempts to save her marriage have been rebuffed and she meets with nothing but insults from her philandering husband, she decides to pay him back in kind. She takes a lover and does not try to hide it from her husband. Refusing to be cowed by his threats to invoke his powers under the patriarchal system, she calmly declares that she would certainly prevail in a legal proceeding whereas he would reap only scandal. The husband quickly backs down, and they reach an amicable agreement whereby they will remain married but lead totally separate lives. Another case in which independence of thought does not lead to the embrace of traditional moral standards is that of Mlle d’Alrane (number 10). She deliberately chooses a scandalous course of action (a love affair with, and possibly marriage to a peasant youth) but puts the blame on her parents, who have decided, imprudently and for no stated reason, to keep her confined to a remote country house with nothing to do and with only a female companion of her own age as company. Mlle d’Angine (number 6) likewise emancipates herself from parental control, insisting on her right to freedom and love. She has observed society sufficiently to know that even if she elopes with the man she loves and to whom her family objects, her mother will eventually agree to a reconciliation. However, although she is fully capable of arranging her abduction all by herself, she fails to discern that her beloved is mentally deficient and will make her life unhappy. The most dangerous example of women’s liberation is the escapade of Elise and Julie (number 5). The girls have decided to shake off the social constraints imposed by their mothers and which they fear their fiancés will reimpose after marriage. Unfortunately, they fail to foresee the dangers that such an act of defiance can cause in a society eager to pounce on scandals. Even worse, they underestimate the cleverness and vigilance of their mothers and fiancés. The final irony is that, as Lisidor explains, had they been patient enough to behave themselves until their marriage, they would have gotten the chance to enjoy the freedoms that they find so fascinating, such as going out alone to evening entertainments. Durand’s lesson seems to be that independence of thought can rarely lead to positive results unless it is joined to a solid grasp of people’s characters, a willingness to satisfy society by at least keeping up appearances, and a sense of responsibility. One of the more positive elements in Durand’s portrayal of women is her belief in the possibility of genuine friendship between women. As was noted earlier, this is a phenomenon that only a handful of women writers dared to discuss in the seventeenth century and one that male writers usually deemed impossible. The friendship between Elise and Marianne (number 9) is particularly impressive: Marianne displays not the slightest jealousy when Elise marries the man whom she would have preferred for herself, even agreeing to accompany her to the interview where the match is officially concluded, and she unhesitatingly praises

244 CATHERINE DURAND her friend for having a better reputation. There is clearly a bond of affection between Mme de Cassagne and her niece, Mlle de Létang, since one of the motives for the stratagem devised by the former is to demonstrate that the girl has been misjudged by her mother. Hortense and Angelique (number 4) have so solid a friendship that, despite their coquettish nature and the fact that they have become amorously entangled with the same men, their bond to each other emerges intact at the end. It even helps them unmask the undignified behavior of their suitors. It is not known whether Catherine Durand had any children. But there is no denying the importance of relationships between parents and children in her proverb comedies. It is curious, however, that we never see a family with two parents: there is either just a father (number 8) or just a mother (numbers 3, 5, and 6), and apparently they are all widowed. The sole child with two living parents is Mlle d’Alrane, who does not live with them. Most of the time the parents are very conscientious, taking personal charge of their children’s upbringing and keeping them at home, which was hardly the norm at the time, especially for the aristocracy. The sole exception is the parents of Mlle d’Alrane, whom we never see, though at least they seem to have given her a respectable education. The one father whom Durand presents shows extraordinary patience in dealing with a mentally retarded son and hopes desperately to make him a functional member of his social class. The mothers, who are all very affectionate, try very hard to make their daughters happy, arranging suitable matches or discouraging clearly unsuitable ones. Even the rebellious Elise and Julie admit that their mothers have always treated them with perfect kindness. Finally, it should be noted that none of the mothers believes in a life of austerity. Mme Dubens regularly takes her daughter to the opera; Mme d’Angine promises her daughter “all the pleasures that an honorable girl is allowed to take”; Mme Dumeny even allows her daughters to meet, unchaperoned, with young men whose visits she has approved.

Stagecraft The brevity imposed by the form of the proverb comedy does not allow for much complexity of plot or for in-depth character development. But despite these constraints Durand managed to create lively scenes and some memorable characters, while filling her playlets with humor and with surprise endings. The unities are observed with little trouble, and in the one play divided into multiple acts (number 7) the action takes exactly twenty-four hours. The denouement of the playlets consists either in arranging or breaking up a marriage or liaison. In cases of double denouements, these can be parallel, with two friends or couples having identical misadventures (numbers 1, 4, and 5), or by contrast, where the good character and the bad character receive appropriate rewards (number 3). Number

Proverb Comedies 245 7, treating the problems of five friends, contains multiple plot strands, but since the two women pair off at the end with the two eligible men, there is a simple resolution. The most minimal plot is in number 9, where an engagement, already concluded, is confirmed and the date of the wedding moved up. Although it is not known whether Durand’s playlets were staged in salons, they certainly could have been. Proverb comedies are in fact performed on several occasions in the course of Murat’s novel, in which the characters praise them as an enjoyable form of home entertainment. These ten plays require little or no decor: a brook (number 7), a sofa and windows (number 10), a screen or closet allowing several characters to hide (number 3). In some cases the precise location is not specified, and the action could conceivably be placed either indoors or outdoors, with virtually no set.

PROVERB COMEDIES FIRST PROVERB [Is This How Men Should Behave?]7 CHARACTERS ERASTE ISABELLE PASQUIN MARTON MR. COUNTER FAT JOHN

suitor of Isabelle beloved of Eraste valet of Eraste companion of Isabelle merchant tavern owner

[Scene: in front of Isabelle’s house] (Enter Eraste and Isabelle.) ERASTE: Will you always keep me in suspense, madam? Will you never consent to my happiness? It is close to two years that I have been dying of love for you, that I have followed you everywhere, that I have worn your chains like a true Amadis, and if I dare say so, you have not scorned to reveal to me some rather tender feelings. But since in your gratitude you have not fully followed the footsteps of Oriana, my word, there is no satisfaction.8 I’m a real man, and … ISABELLE: Be quiet, Eraste, you are mad; your witticisms sometimes take you too far. You must cure yourself of these little outbursts of temper, if you want me to think about serious things. My heart is on your side; you are only too convinced of that; but the way you behave is altogether suited to disgusting me. ERASTE: Why, what am I doing, charming Isabelle? It always seems, when I hear you talk, that I am a highway robber. Oh, you have a severity of principles that is a bit tiresome, to say the least. ISABELLE: No, Eraste, I am not an enemy to innocent pleasures. I will never object to your frequenting plays and elegant parks. I am not even forbidding you to see other women besides me; they are the ones who inspire civility. It is neither 7. The playlets have no titles in the original, the true title being the proverb that must be guessed (and is printed only at the end of the volume). I have supplied this and the subsequent bracketed titles to use on programs if the playlets are given a public performance. 8. Protagonists of the fifteenth-century Spanish romance Amadis of Gaul by Montalvo, which was enormously popular at the time. Eraste is alluding to the fact that the superhero and his beloved consummate their love prior to their marriage.

246

Proverb Comedies 247 priggishness nor jealous suspicions that occupy me. But consider that with a quite limited income you want to live like an aristocrat; you go in for fancy carriages, elegant clothes, late-night suppers; but suppers, God knows where! That is the upsetting part: always at the tavern with a crowd of hotheaded young men, who decide rashly about other people’s merits and reputations, and from which you always come back a bit less well-behaved than when you left. ERASTE: What, madam, lectures! Lectures to me! Good gracious, that isn’t bad! You had never before explained your views so well. I am perhaps to keep my hands in my pockets at my age, and I am always to be at your side like a conceited ass, to enact courtly love! Oh, you are beautiful, charming, rich; but I wouldn’t inconvenience myself for Helen of Troy, even if she were bringing me all of Greece as a dowry.9 ISABELLE: You are revealing yourself, Eraste, and because you believe yourself to be assured of my heart, you are no longer taking the trouble to hide your faults from me. But you might be mistaken in that. My tenderness has not totally destroyed my reason, and if the care that you have taken to compose yourself in front of me, accompanied by a charming face, had induced me to give you my hand, your dissolute actions will oblige me to withdraw my promise. Look! There is Mr. Counter who is coming all this way to seek you. (Enter Counter.) ERASTE: Oh good grief, Mr. Counter, you could have chosen a better time and terrain. COUNTER: There is no way, sir, to find you at home. Mr. Pasquin always sends me away; you aren’t up yet; you are dining in town; you are in the country. However, I need 150 pistoles10 that you owe me. ERASTE: I, 150 pistoles! You are dreaming, Mr. Counter. You undoubtedly doubled the sum to reflect the interest; and on that score, farewell until next year. COUNTER: Sir, here are your bills signed in your own hand. Would you go against your signature? ERASTE: It’s true; there is my mark; but I was undoubtedly drunk when I put it there. Good evening, Mr. Counter. You want to argue, I believe. Zounds, if it weren’t for the respect that I owe the lady, I would treat you like the scoundrel you are. 9. Given that the Trojan War was not only the symbol of military prowess in classical antiquity, but also a war undertaken to defend a woman’s honor, this comment would have seemed exceptionally offensive to Durand’s readers. 10. Gold coin worth eleven livres (pounds).

248 CATHERINE DURAND (Exit Counter.) ISABELLE: Aren’t you ashamed, Eraste, by what I have just seen? That’s all that was missing to make me lose all esteem for you. ERASTE: Me, madam, ashamed for not paying my debts? Fashion authorizes all such things. But I implore your mercy for getting carried away. Pardon me, charming Isabelle; I’m a scatterbrain. But I am going to die at your feet if you don’t give me back your heart. ISABELLE: No, Eraste, it’s finished now; I am breaking with you forever. You would try in vain to stop me; farewell. (Exit Isabelle; enter Marton.) ERASTE: My poor Marton, she is as spiteful as a little devil. Could you not calm her down? MARTON: Me, sir? My word, I am an inept schemer. And besides, you have a rascal whom I will be delighted to be rid of, and I can’t be rid of him until my mistress is rid of you. ERASTE: Farewell then, Marton. I see indeed that I must accept the inevitable. A ladylove who reprimands me, a companion who is tired of my Pasquin; what means is there to emerge from such an enterprise with one’s honor intact? All that remains for me is to win the top stake of four pistoles in a big gambling match;11 that will be a fine day for me. (Exit Eraste; enter Pasquin.) PASQUIN: Marton, my charming Marton, do you want to keep your little Pasquin languishing still longer? He has loved you ever since Eraste has loved your mistress; that’s my era. MARTON: Yes, but your master has just been dismissed for I don’t know how many things that Isabelle doesn’t like. And since you follow in Eraste’s footsteps as much as is permitted to a valet, and since I am just as reasonable as Isabelle, you might well have the same fate. PASQUIN: How’s that, my angel? Would you want to dismiss me for tiny trifles? Are you an enemy of your Pasquin’s pleasures? I swear to you that, apart from a bit of wine, which truly I can’t do without, I am the most faithful lover in the world. 11. The technical term refers to a move in the game of lansquenet deemed very unlucky. The following comment is thus ironic.

Proverb Comedies 249 MARTON: Ah, you are admitting the wine at quite the right moment. There is Fat John, owner of the tavern on the corner of the street, who is coming to track you down here. (Enter Fat John.) FAT JOHN: Mr. Pasquin, I can’t extend any more credit to you, quite frankly. In the two years that you have been coming to my place every day to run up a bill, devil take me if I’ve received a red cent. PASQUIN: For shame, Mr. Fat John! Coming to disturb an amorous conversation for a trifle! For how much does that add up to? FAT JOHN: To over 100 écus12; I must be mad. It’s true that since I was sometimes one of the drinking party, that made me stay patient. But once again we’ve got this devilish weather that’s not suitable for the wine harvest, and I need all my coins. PASQUIN: God must have made my soul very patient, to suffer the impertinence of that knave. 100 écus, 100 écus? 100 blows with a cudgel, my fine Mr. John, and don’t argue. Leave me with my little ladylove; for I’ll let all the devils carry me off if I don’t try out my new sword upon your miserable carcass. FAT JOHN (leaving): Next time you pass my door, we’ll see whether you’ll be so brave. PASQUIN: Nothing bothers me in all of this except having been disrespectful to you. But still, you see indeed that I have courage; and every woman gladly gives her heart to such men. MARTON: Go get lost; leave me in peace. I would really have to find being single a great burden to want to wed a dog like you. PASQUIN: All right, let’s not get married, my love; I will love you just as much on that footing. Aha, you’re professing to have moral standards. Farewell then, cruel beauty. Can I find Fat John any less inflexible than you are?

12. Coin worth three livres.

250 CATHERINE DURAND SECOND PROVERB [Can This Marriage Be Saved?] CHARACTERS MONSIEUR DE MONTIRÉ MADAME DE MONTIRÉ MADEMOISELLE DUPIN THE CHEVALIER

in love with Mlle Dupin beloved of M. de Montiré

[Scene: the home of M. de Montiré] (Enter M. de Montiré and Mlle Dupin.) M. DE MONTIRÉ: What, miss, will I always have to combat a frivolous fear? It is stopping you from acting on an inclination that appears to be in my favor; and at the same time that I believe I have convinced you of my passion, my fidelity, my devotion; that I am charmed to see gentle dispositions in your eyes, I see those very eyes turn toward heaven and shed tears. MLLE DUPIN: Alas! Do you ask me what is causing my fears? You are married; you have a pretty wife; in vain do you vow to me an eternal love. How many moments are to that woman’s advantage! And how unhappy I am to have made all these reflections only when I am no longer in a position to profit from them! M. DE MONTIRÉ: So is that what is preventing you from giving over your heart entirely to my passion? Ah, miss, how easy it is to cure you! She is my wife; that word calls for a satire. Have you seen many men of my age and temperament love their wives? One might feel somewhat aroused during the first days of the marriage; but how soon afterwards disgust follows! How bored one is with a person with whom one sees oneself linked for one’s whole life! This fatal contract, far from making reason submit, stirs all the senses to revolt against it. The hours that one is forced to give to basic propriety seem intolerably tedious, and what puts the finishing touches on this estrangement is to adore a charming person who is far from indifferent toward us, and at whose side one would like to spend all one’s moments. MLLE DUPIN: What means is there to resist your reasons? My heart guarantees them to be sound, and you further have the public’s taste on your side. I am delighted to see that it accords with your taste. Perhaps it would be more delicate to wish that no one but you had ever thought that way and that the strength of your passion by itself furnished you with these views; but I hold on to what is surest, and I tell myself that, being as pretty as I am, there is no likelihood that you would prove an exception to the general rule.

Proverb Comedies 251 M. DE MONTIRÉ: How adorable you are to agree to place confidence in me! That was the last point you needed to make you perfect. But how many sweet moments you have made me lose! How this one increases my ardor! Permit me to kiss your beautiful hand to thank you for it a thousand times. (Enter Mme de Montiré.) MME DE MONTIRÉ: Continue, sir, I am delighted to see you so gallant. That is a role that I thought you would perform poorly; but, according to appearances, Mademoiselle Dupin has taken the trouble to teach you this great art, and I must thank her for it. MLLE DUPIN: I, take trouble, madam? I think that, given my face, one should see that I am not obliged to take too much of it to attract men’s worship; but you are peevish and don’t know whom to blame. MME DE MONTIRÉ: Stop, miss; your vanity is causing you to make some rather astonishing remarks. Your face, you say? Ah, without unduly flattering myself, I do not believe I am inferior to you on that point; and if Monsieur de Montiré does not behave the same way toward me, it is because I am already acquired by him and he hopes to acquire you. M. DE MONTIRÉ: Your judgments are accurate, madam. Do you know many husbands who waste time courting their wives? My word, swallow your little sorrows by yourself. You are preparing anxiety and bother for yourself if you examine my actions this way. But what are we waiting for, miss? Your friend will get impatient with our delay. Let’s leave Madame de Montiré the time to calm her anger, and let’s not lose any time when what is involved is our entertainment. (Exeunt M. de Montiré and Mlle Dupin.) MME DE MONTIRÉ (alone): Go, fickle husband. I won’t be behindhand for long. The chevalier is looking at me in a gracious manner; I may well have responded to that involuntarily; but it will be with deliberate intent in the future. (Enter Chevalier.) Ah, here you are, chevalier; I was in fact wishing for your presence; you have arrived at just the right moment. CHEVALIER: Might I be fortunate enough to do you a service? I have never wished for anything so much. MME DE MONTIRÉ: Yes, chevalier, a very considerable one. But on the point of telling you, I feel myself getting embarrassed. Why this modesty at the wrong time? Vengeance is sweet; the way I am taking to avenge myself is not harsh; let’s take the plunge. The service that you can do for me, chevalier, is to love me

252 CATHERINE DURAND ardently and faithfully, and above all without any of those cautions that men have invented through an alleged refinement of discretion, but in fact in order to be freer and to share their time among three or four mistresses. CHEVALIER: Ah, madam, how easy it will be for me to serve you in your style! But is what I am hearing a dream? Is it you speaking to me? During the year that I have adored you, hardly did I believe that you had noticed it, and I am fortunate enough to … No, I must have lost my mind to believe you. A certain mention of vengeance struck my ears: you are occupied with that at the present moment; everything seems permissible to you in the first outburst. You have doubtless caught your husband in the act; jealousy has made you resolve on a course of action that you will soon repent, and you will hate me for the same admissions of affection that you are honoring me with at present. MME DE MONTIRÉ: No, no, this is a confirmed intention. I am discarding the prejudices of my sex, and I don’t believe myself obliged to conserve my heart for my husband, when he gives his heart to someone other than me. So long as I thought him only indifferent, I made it a point of virtue to stifle the feelings that I had for you; but I find today that I am entitled to punish him when he offends me and to give over to you a heart that was seeking only an occasion to surrender. Do not fear a change of mind. The more I resisted you, the less you ought to be wary of me. CHEVALIER (throwing himself at her feet): Ah, madam, how happy I am! Allow me to die at your feet, to give you a thousand thanks for the bliss that you make me attain. How I like Mademoiselle Dupin! What good reason Monsieur de Montiré has to prefer her to you! She is quite far from being as charming as you; but perhaps without her I would have languished uselessly in your spell for my whole life. (Enter M. de Montiré; the Chevalier [hastily] leaves.) M. DE MONTIRÉ: The chevalier at your feet, madam! What kindnesses was he thanking you for? He is right to avoid my fury by fleeing; you are not content with tormenting me through your jealousy; you are also dishonoring me through your conduct. Your family is going to be informed of your misbehavior. MME DE MONTIRÉ: Not so fast, sir. Believe me, we are not living in a century so favorable to husbands. You will create a scandal; I will scheme my way out just as a thousand other women have done; you will be stuck with the disgrace, and a good separation will make me mistress of my actions.13 That is the fruit that you can expect from your uproar; whereas, if you permit me to see the chevalier, 13. Although husbands who formally accused their wives of adultery could get some harsh penalties imposed on them (loss of dowry, confinement in a convent), the husband could lose his right to bring charges if it could be shown that he was likewise guilty of adultery.

Proverb Comedies 253 who is a very honorable man, I will grant you Mademoiselle Dupin, and we will live in an apparent union that will dazzle the public without our being obliged to constrain ourselves. M. DE MONTIRÉ: You are displaying resolution and intelligence. Leave me in peace, then; don’t cross my pleasures any longer, and let’s live as so many other people do. MME DE MONTIRÉ: That is speaking reasonably. It would be curious indeed for me to be a spectator of your love affairs my whole life, and, like an innocent girl, not to dare to pay you back in your own coin.

THIRD PROVERB [How Well Do Parents Know Their Children?] CHARACTERS MADAME DUMENY MADEMOISELLE DUMENY MADEMOISELLE DE LÉTANG MADAME DE CASSAGNE THE MARQUIS THE CHEVALIER A SINGING MASTER

her older daughter her younger daughter her cousin suitor to Mlle de Létang suitor to Mme de Cassagne

Scene: A room in Mme Dumeny’s house (Enter Mme Dumeny and Mme de Cassagne.) MME DUMENY: Ah, my dear cousin, if you knew my two daughters thoroughly, you would form a totally different judgment of them! The older one, wise and pious, is the source of all the happiness of my life; the younger one, mad and frivolous, causes all its grief. MME DE CASSAGNE: Beware, madam, of misjudging there. You know the interest that I take in the chevalier, and you are aware that I am engaged to marry him. I have seen glances shot at him by Mademoiselle Dumeny, which make me think altogether differently from you. Permit me to make use of him to unravel her feelings; this trial can do no injustice to your older girl, if she has only pure intentions; and, supposing I am not mistaken, the younger girl, who is very charming, will alone occupy your affection.

254 CATHERINE DURAND MME DUMENY: Do it, cousin; I am quite willing to do this to be obliging to you; and I am too sure of my views to be worried about the outcome. (Exit Mme Dumeny; enter Mlle de Létang and Marquis.) MLLE DE LÉTANG: Marquis, I have already told you, don’t speak to me that way. (to Mme de Cassagne) Madam, for God’s sake, tell the marquis quite seriously that he should leave me in peace. MME DE CASSAGNE: I have something quite different in mind, my little cousin; it is a matter of penetrating the most secret recesses of Mademoiselle Dumeny’s heart. I have to speak to the chevalier for this great plan. Farewell, I will come back soon to see you. (Exit Mme de Cassagne.) MARQUIS: Will you always treat me cruelly? Shall I find in you only cruelty? Will my ardent passion never obtain any recognition? At least set an end to my misfortunes. MLLE DE LÉTANG: Admit, marquis, that a person of my temperament gives rise to suspicions, and that people believe they can take advantage of a scatterbrain such as I appear to be. But the agitation of the body does not prove that of the heart; and I declare to you that I am sensible enough to stop listening to you, if you do not first get my mother on your side with a serious proposal of marriage. MARQUIS: Yes, beautiful creature, I shall speak when it is time, but in the meantime let’s love each other as much as our hearts prompt us; let’s leave the rest in the hands of Destiny. Would you want to start with marriage? MLLE DE LÉTANG: I want nothing at all, except that you should no longer be so bold as to speak to me of love, without having for me the feelings of esteem that make a man wish to make his beloved his wife. MARQUIS (throwing himself at her feet): How unfeeling you are! In the name of Cupid, charming girl, surrender to a passion that will drive me to some outrageous act. (Enter Mlle Dumeny.) MLLE DUMENY: A man on his knees before you, sister! That is what you get from your vivacious nature; he undoubtedly had something to thank you for. MARQUIS (leaving): Would to heaven that were so!

Proverb Comedies 255 MLLE DUMENY: Truthfully, sister, it is quite cruel to see you behave this way; and a person like me suffers when I am linked by blood to a harebrained person like you. MLLE DE LÉTANG: My God, sister, you are showing off a virtue that frightens me! Everything seems criminal to you! A man is at my feet, and at once you are going to judge that it is to thank me for an amorous favor. As for me, if I saw a man in the same submissive posture before you, I wouldn’t doubt that it was to obtain some request that you have been refusing him for some time. And perhaps, after all, I might be mistaken in my conjectures, as you undoubtedly are mistaken in yours. MLLE DUMENY: Don’t exhaust my patience, or I shall notify my mother of your misbehavior. (Enter Mme de Cassagne and Chevalier.) MME DE CASSAGNE: I was coming to beg Madame Dumeny to receive the chevalier in her home while I go to do some shopping; (to Mlle Dumeny) but in her absence, my beautiful cousin, I believe that you will be willing to receive him and to give me this foolish girl to come with me. MLLE DUMENY: You are free to command, madam; I shall try not to let the chevalier get bored. (Exeunt Mme de Cassagne and Mlle de Létang.)14 CHEVALIER: What great pleasure she gives me, miss! And how I love to see in you this modesty, this simplicity in clothing, and these artless graces with which nature wanted to enrich you, and which art would only diminish! MLLE DUMENY: Is it possible, chevalier, that you have so peculiar a taste? Among your sex, the majority of men are taken in by false luster and are put off by a severe appearance. CHEVALIER: How far I am, miss, from such bad taste! And how much headway I would make with a person of your looks who had a bit of affection for me! But your virtue—what an obstacle! MLLE DUMENY: To tell you the truth, I am not displeased to awe people. I see with pleasure the respect that I inspire; and I am in no hurry to undeceive the 14. Given subsequent comments made by Mme de Cassagne, one must suppose that she and Mme Dumeny are eavesdropping during the following conversation, hidden either behind a screen or on the other side of a door.

256 CATHERINE DURAND human race about the idea that has been formed of me. But as for you, chevalier, as for you … CHEVALIER: Well, miss, but as for me? Complete a statement that has begun to enchant me. MLLE DUMENY: But as for you, chevalier, since I must tell you, I single you out sufficiently to expound my morality to you; it is not as severe as it appears. It is true that, having been born proud, and seeing so many reputations torn to pieces, I have tried to distinguish myself by an exterior that never fails to have its effect. I have shunned plays, dances, fancy jewelry; my dress has been neat but simple; but I have not excluded the feelings of the heart. On the contrary, I have imagined an infinite pleasure in deceiving the whole world and in obtaining by fraud a reputation that is no less honorable for the man who knows it to be false than for the woman who possesses it. CHEVALIER: What cleverness! What reasoning, miss! But where is the happy man who will make you put into practice the maxims of a morality so subtly conceived? MLLE DUMENY: Do you have so much trouble guessing? The confidence that one thinks of taking in you, and my expression as I look at you—aren’t they capable of informing you of the secret that you want to know? Ah, undoubtedly all you lack is a heart to understand it. CHEVALIER: Yes, miss, I begin to understand my exceeding happiness. But complete your work; assist your charming glances, and let your beautiful mouth confirm them by some clear words. MLLE DUMENY: Ah, how pressing you are! I hear a noise; I don’t have the time to resist you. Farewell, chevalier; see me every day; lose no occasion to do so; I will cooperate with you to find some. The reputation I have acquired for myself won’t harm us. (Exit Mlle Dumeny; enter Mme de Cassagne.) CHEVALIER: Ah, madam, what a role you are making me play! But what wouldn’t one do for you? Our devout lady has surrendered. Never was there so easy a conquest; two or three sighs settled it. MME DE CASSAGNE: Oh, I quite suspected it! The little bigot! I used to merely scorn her; at present I hate her. So she is after your heart? No more consideration for her; I am going to reveal everything to my cousin. CHEVALIER: Ah, madam, what are you going to do?

Proverb Comedies 257 MME DE CASSAGNE: Ah, sir, I know everything that you are going to tell me: honor, integrity. A fine display that is! But I must take my revenge and have justice done to the conduct of the two sisters. (Exeunt; enter Mlle de Létang and Singing Master.)15 MLLE DE LÉTANG: Come on, sir, show me something new; for I am very bored today. SINGING MASTER: Here is an air, miss, that I wrote this morning, and which surely won’t displease you. (sings) You tender sighs, gentle alarms That tear my tender heart apart; While for Tircis I shed my tears, That ingrate caused my misery; But yet that misery had such charms! You tender sighs, gentle alarms, Will you cease to perturb my heart? (Exit Singing Master; enter Mme Dumeny and Mlle Dumeny.) MME DUMENY: My daughters, I am delighted to be able to speak with you together at the moment I have finished forming my resolution. (to the older girl) I know, daughter, the taste you have for retreat; I no longer have a taste for pleasures. I am determined to retreat with you into some agreeable convent, with the better part of my fortune, to taste the sweetness of solitude without renouncing the comforts of life.16 (to the younger girl) As for you, you will retreat into high society with your cousin, de Cassagne. MLLE DUMENY: Madam, it is not yet time to decide about my fate; these sorts of resolutions are not the work of one day. I am young, and I don’t want to shut myself up yet.

15. The episode with the singing master seems superfluous and also violates the dramatic rule known as linking of scenes. The text of the song suggests that Mlle de Létang may indeed have fallen in love, though rather than immodestly declare her feelings to the man involved, she prefers the more socially acceptable manner of expressing them privately and indirectly through art. In any case, Mme de Cassagne needs several minutes to arrange the stratagem that will precipitate the play’s conclusion. 16. Wealthy women who were tired of high society and/or who wished to devote themselves to a life of study or meditation could rent quarters in a convent without having to commit to the vows of a nun. The title character of Lafayette’s celebrated novel, La Princesse de Clèves, spends the final part of her life in that manner.

258 CATHERINE DURAND MME DUMENY: What language, daughter! You frighten me! Is it you speaking? You, I say, who, always locked in your study, show so much scorn for the frivolities of the world? You who … MLLE DUMENY: Yes, madam, it is I; I want liberty in all things. The same retreat that I like, because no one is forcing me into it, would become unbearable to me, if I saw myself tied down to a convent. In a word, madam, give me my inheritance from my father. My conduct ought not to be suspect to you. I will able to make the choice I like, without anyone’s being able to find fault with it. MME DUMENY: But, daughter … MLLE DE LÉTANG: Stop pressing my sister, madam; and if you believe me worthy to follow you into your retreat, you will see me as content there as in the midst of pleasures. I would be only too happy to be able, for once in my life, to do something that is pleasing to you. (Enter Marquis.) MARQUIS: No, madam, no; I won’t endure to have the most charming person in the world shut herself in a convent. I have heard everything. She has been sufficiently tested; her virtue and her personal charms induce me to enter into an engagement of which I didn’t believe myself capable. Accept the request that I make to you, madam; I place no conditions on it. MLLE DUMENY (leaving): How unhappy I am, to see this little girl triumph! MME DUMENY: Yes, marquis, I receive you with pleasure for my son-in-law. Let’s go bring these happy tidings to Madame de Cassagne. But whom will one trust now? And what am I going to do with a treacherous daughter who has deceived me for so long?

FOURTH PROVERB [How Much Infidelity Can One Get Away With?] CHARACTERS HORTENSE ANGELIQUE THE BARON THE VISCOUNT Scene: in the home of Hortense and Angelique

Proverb Comedies 259 (Enter Viscount and Baron.) VISCOUNT: What, baron, the conquest of Angelique is not the only one that you are contemplating? And you even want to limit the conquest that I am planning of Hortense! This act does not fit with the role of loyal lover, or that of a true friend, as you wish to be considered. BARON: What do you want, my poor viscount? I simply let myself follow the corrupt ways of the age; and since I am not really in love, I admit that I would be flattered to touch two hearts by my skill alone, without having it cost me feelings that always make people unhappy. VISCOUNT: My word, my friend, I will be just as open in confiding in you. What I think in regard to Angelique is just what you think in regard to Hortense; and if I pay court to the latter in public, I have with the other one a hidden game that might well have a moderate success. BARON: So much the better; thus I was merely getting even with you. Let’s both push our fortune, but let’s keep each other informed about our progress. It is permitted to be a deceiver in love; that is a liberty as well established as being a cheat with horses; but in friendship one must maintain good faith. VISCOUNT: Oh, that goes without saying. But here are our ladyloves; let’s line up to do our duty. (Enter Hortense and Angelique; the baron goes over to Angelique and the Viscount goes over to Hortense.) HORTENSE: What are the two friends doing today? Will they go to the opera or play cards? VISCOUNT (answering Hortense but looking at Angelique): As for me, madam, I have no fixed plans when you are present. ANGELIQUE: And you, baron, what do you intend to do? BARON (playing the same game as the viscount): Me, madam? I am sticking close to you, and my destiny depends on you. HORTENSE [to Angelique]: Madam, they are too gallant and too polite. If you take my advice, we will give them leave to depart in order to reward them for it. ANGELIQUE: I agree. Besides, I have something to tell you. VISCOUNT: Since you are chasing us away, ladies, we will go for a stroll among high society, provided that you allow us to come back.

260 CATHERINE DURAND (The men leave, gesturing indifferently to one or the other of the ladies.) HORTENSE (laughing): You must admit, my dear, that the baron loves you to distraction. But you are so secretive that I haven’t been able to discover yet whether you feel any gratitude for him. ANGELIQUE (laughing also): You laugh so good-heartedly that you have to be very content with the viscount. Indeed, he has eyes only for you. HORTENSE: I would quite genuinely wish he had eyes for someone else, I who, not to be vain, am neither coquettish nor unfaithful. ANGELIQUE: That is precisely the portrait of me. Having a lover is so cumbersome! Why would someone want to make so many conquests? But, darling, I wanted to learn from you how it happens that you no longer have for me those little affectionate ways that caused me such great pleasure. You look constrained; it even takes away from your beauty; for you know that eyes don’t sparkle except in the company of people one likes. HORTENSE: There is a surprising similarity between our thought processes! I find in you everything that you find in me; and you appeared to me so changed today that I believed that you were ill. (Enter Viscount.) ANGELIQUE: Ah, here is the viscount, and I want to ask him what he thinks of this. [to the viscount] Come here for a minute to tell us whether we are right. VISCOUNT: I will not decide between two beautiful ladies; but I will tell you that the baron entered the Comédie-Française during the last act of a play that I am tired of, and that I quickly took my flight back in this direction. HORTENSE: As for me, I am going to consult my mirror over my alleged change in appearance; it is a more accurate judge than the viscount. (Exit Hortense.) ANGELIQUE: I was telling her that she was changed in appearance; she judged it fitting to retaliate. VISCOUNT: Never have you seemed so beautiful to my sight; and if I didn’t fear to get scolded, I would tell you what my glances have already told you all too clearly. ANGELIQUE: And as for Hortense, what would she say? That would be quite sufficient for her to find me hideously ugly.

Proverb Comedies 261 VISCOUNT: What difference does that make to you, madam? Judgments made by other women are unreliable. But I know a sure method to beautify you: tell me something sweet. Then goddesses will have less grace and beauty than you. But the baron, madam, is a dreadful obstacle! ANGELIQUE: How foolish you are, my poor viscount! I don’t want to beautify myself that quickly; but I won’t be angry if you take the trouble necessary to accomplish that great project. And as for the baron, don’t let him scare you. (Enter Hortense.) Ah, my poor Hortense, what sad news your mirror has told you! I can clearly see it from your expression. HORTENSE: The viscount has told you more pleasing news, for you appear to me to be quite lively. VISCOUNT (clasping her hand): Me, madam? I have spoken of quite inconsequential things. But I spot the baron, who is coming to tell you sweet nothings. (Enter Baron.) BARON: My word, I got so bored with the conversation of a fop whom I ran into at the theater that I am coming here to get over my annoyance. ANGELIQUE: I am going to leave you with Hortense; she has a thousand remedies against boredom. (Exeunt Angelique and Viscount.) HORTENSE: What’s this? A tête-à-tête with you! The viscount and Angelique don’t know what they are doing. BARON: That is their business. I am not so charitable as to employ a time so precious in useless pity; and if you, madam, want to meet me half way, we will give them material for reflection and concern. HORTENSE: You are jesting, baron; Angelique has a greater hold over your heart than you think, and I am not beautiful enough to erase the impressions that she has made on it. BARON: If that is the only thing holding us back, madam, I will quickly cure your mind. Would to Cupid that it were as easy for me to touch your heart! But isn’t the viscount too well entrenched there for my peace of mind? HORTENSE: The viscount? Ah, you are jealous! That is a good sign. Go, do your duty well, and I will treat the viscount the same way you are treating Angelique. (Enter Angelique.)

262 CATHERINE DURAND ANGELIQUE (angrily): The baron apparently has not bored you, madam; and your eyes are sparkling with such a brisk fire … HORTENSE: Oh, not at all, madam; my appearance is so changed today … ! (Enter Viscount.) ANGELIQUE: The viscount is coming back. These gentlemen don’t know what to do, apparently. Take my word, madam; let’s leave them together, and let’s go into my private room to clear up a doubt that has just entered my mind. HORTENSE: Let’s go, madam; you will give me great pleasure by preventing me from being duped. (Exeunt Angelique and Hortense.) BARON: My word, viscount, this little secret game is turning out to be awkward. What do you say about it? VISCOUNT: I wanted to tell you the same thing. They are both devilishly coquettish; but they don’t want to lose anything, and when one is gracious to me, the other makes horrible faces at me, which doesn’t fail to cast a bit of remorse into my soul. BARON: Oh, I don’t give a rap for remorse. I could extricate myself from this embarrassing business if it were with women who rarely saw each other; but these two, apart from a bit of jealousy over beauty, are such close friends that it scares me, and I fear discovery. VISCOUNT: Let’s ask pardon from our real ladyloves and attempt at least not to lose everything; that’s my opinion. BARON: I just had another thought: let’s go seek our fortune elsewhere. Young and good-looking as we are, we won’t remain out on the street long. Here we are, discredited like the devil in this house. Let’s make a formal bow to each of them, and let’s get out of this intrigue like courageous men. VISCOUNT: They are coming back at the perfect time; let’s make our little speech. (Enter Angelique and Hortense.) ANGELIQUE: Baron, you have vast designs! That is worthy of your courage; Macedonia is too small a kingdom for you.17 17. The linking of military and amorous conquests was a commonplace going back to antiquity. The title character in Molière’s Dom Juan (1665) had also compared himself to Alexander the Great (act

Proverb Comedies 263 HORTENSE: The same desire for conquest is in you, viscount; I am saddened, out of love for you, that your schemes are exposed. BARON (to Angelique): Your boldness is extraordinary in accusing us of crimes of which you are as guilty as we are. VISCOUNT (to Hortense): After all your coquettish behavior, do you really think you have a right to reproach us? ANGELIQUE (to the baron): For my part, I declare to you that I am breaking with you definitively. HORTENSE (to the viscount): I am no less proud than my friend. The little explanatory discussion that we have just had together is not to your advantage. BARON: My word, ladies, you are doing nothing more than anticipating us; and you are dismissing us only because you were the first to speak. VISCOUNT: That’s the truth, but the advantage is not great enough for you to object to granting it to the fair sex. What disturbs me in all this is that there is duplicity of action, and that is a monstrous violation of the rules.18 ANGELIQUE: The only rules we recognize are those of our duty, and we do not want to have any further dealings with men who have tricked us. BARON: As for us, since we have only the pride of fictional heroes without having either their weaknesses or their insipid nature, we courageously abandon two villainous women who had no other aim but to deceive us. HORTENSE: Here are all four of us rather at loose ends. What a just reversal of events here below! We each wanted to deceive and have been deceived in our turn. Farewell, gentlemen; go try whether you will have better success with fidelity, and we will make the same experiment.

1, scene 2). 18. Humorous reference to the unity of action, which in the strict French interpretation required tight plot construction and the banning of subplots.

264 CATHERINE DURAND FIFTH PROVERB [How Dangerous Is Freedom for Teenaged Girls?] CHARACTERS ELISE JULIE MADAME DUBENS Elise’s mother MADAME DE CIMIÈRE Julie’s mother ALCANDRE Elise’s fiancé LISIDOR Julie’s fiancé LISETTE Elise’s companion ROMARIN Alcandre’s valet Scene: in Madame Dubens’s house. (Enter Elise, Julie, Lisette.) ELISE: Admit, my pet, that we have had a great deal of pleasure, that it is horribly sad to see only those people to whom one is engaged, and that a little escapade is not unimportant from time to time. JULIE: What, unimportant! I deem it necessary after the experience that we have had of it. With what ease did Madame Dubens’s porter deceive his mistress, on condition of a small payment! Ah, undoubtedly Heaven helps people our age who are unduly forced to see no one but their future husbands. LISETTE: Both of you are quite content with an action that might have adverse consequences. You are ingrates, first of all; and this same Heaven that you are so pleased with will punish you for not thanking me for all the clever stratagems I had to employ to bring this fine enterprise to a successful completion. Who was it, in your opinion, that got the porter to come around? Who bribed the coachman? Who made him spill a whole year’s worth of stable-litter into the courtyard, so that people wouldn’t hear the carriage leave? Who, finally, used unparalleled skill to keep Romarin, the curious Romarin, away from a house where his presence would have been very troublesome? It is to me, young ladies, that you owe these diverse services; and despite all that, although the matter was well conducted, I can’t help fearing that this secret will get out. You were devilishly coquettish with that group of mindless young men! Some curious fellow may perhaps have followed the carriage, and that piece of news will travel at a good pace.

Proverb Comedies 265 ELISE: Oh be quiet, Lisette, with your maybes; you might be capable of scaring people more timid than we are; but we are not of a mood to poison our pleasures by such sad reflections. LISETTE: My word, miss, even if it were just both of your faces, one could easily guess that you didn’t spend the night in your beds. But I see Madame Dubens coming; take care to maintain a bold front. (Enter Mme Dubens.) MME DUBENS: I see you are up very early, daughter; your diligence is surprising, being dressed and with your hair done at this hour, you who can hardly be ready when it is time for the opera; and Julie, who is quite as lazy as you, is already paying you a visit; there is some mystery behind all this. ELISE: I was unable to sleep last night, madam; I got up; Lisette asked permission of me to go out after dinner; I wanted to relieve her of the tasks of doing my hair and of dressing me, and that is the mysterious cause of what is causing you so much amazement. MME DUBENS: And Julie, did she have the same reasons? JULIE: As for me, madam, since I don’t have the honor of being your daughter, you will find it suitable if I let you make whatever judgment you please about my diligence. (Enter Romarin.) ROMARIN: Madam, stop pressing two guilty persons who do not want to accuse themselves; I am going to clear up your doubts for you. LISETTE: Sir Romarin is a clever man; but at least, madam, he is a master at inventing stories; beware of listening to him, and above all do not believe him. MME DUBENS: No, no, Romarin, do not fear that I won’t credit your statements; this business seems peculiar to me. I beg you, Lisette, to keep quiet. ROMARIN: Madam, you do me too much honor to grant me a favorable audience; I won’t abuse it; and after making a short reflection on the depravity of manners in this era, I will tell you that yesterday at roughly the same time it is now, Miss Lisette … LISETTE: Oh, you are going to keep madam all day; once you start with your pompous moralizing and afterwards begin a narration, there is no cat or dog that you don’t put to sleep. Madam, I will finish much sooner. It is true that, tired out by Mr. Romarin’s sweet nothings, I begged him yesterday to go all day without

266 CATHERINE DURAND seeing me. He insisted on resisting me; his eloquence struck me as ponderous and tedious; I took him by the shoulders and I threw him out. ROMARIN: Yes, you cruel beauty, it is true; that is the start of the matter, which I would have set in a light that would doubtless have made the pernicious sequel that I am going to relate to madam even worse. LISETTE: What will you say, you wretch? Wouldn’t someone think that he saw us commit great crimes? ROMARIN: If there was no crime fully committed, at least decorum was not properly observed. MME DUBENS (to Elise who wants to leave): No, Elise, no, you will not leave here, if you please; as for Julie, she is her own mistress; but as for you, I will teach you that I am yours. ELISE: And what do you want me to listen to, madam? An idle talker who is going to keep you for two hours in order to tell you nothing but silly things? (Enter Mme de Cimière.) MME DE CIMIÈRE: Ah, I find my daughter here! It is at least something positive that she spent the night in an honorable house. (to Mme Dubens) But, madam, might I dare tell you that your health will not be better if you stay up so extraordinarily late like this? MME DUBENS: Your daughter did not spend the night here, madam, nor did mine; that is a fact for which I am waiting for an explanation, and which they are interrupting as much as they can. MME DE CIMIÈRE: What, Julie, you go out of my house at night? I learned that when I woke up. You say that you are coming to see Elise? I don’t know what to believe about that, until I find you here. I am overjoyed upon finding you in this place; and yet it isn’t here that you spent the night. Ah, daughter, daughter, is that the result of an education such as the one that I have given you? MME DUBENS: But, madam, you will make your remonstrances once you have solid information. Come then, Romarin, resume your story. ROMARIN: Yes indeed, madam, I am ready to do so. You will note, if you please, that I am biased by no bitterness against these beautiful young ladies, and even less against Lisette, of whom love has made me a slave. MME DUBENS: Oh, Romarin, get to the point.

Proverb Comedies 267 ROMARIN: One is very pleased, madam, to remove all suspicion from your mind and to make it capable of a perfect confidence. LISETTE: Really now, you dog, are you going to accuse us of making counterfeit money? What wordiness! (Enter Alcandre and Lisidor.) ALCANDRE: We have been waiting for an hour to see where all this would end up. But, ladies, since Romarin is a long-winded orator by nature, and since Lisidor and I are directly concerned in the matter at hand, I will tell you that these young ladies, your daughters and our future spouses, spent last night at a very riotous gathering, with some of the most hotheaded young people of the court; that they pushed their coquettish behavior so far that several fops boasted that they lacked only the opportunity to complete a conquest. We believe that these statements are slander. But, just like Caesar, we do not want our wives even to be suspected; and you will judge it fit, ladies, that we take back the promises that we had given you.19 LISIDOR: I concur with everything that Alcandre has just said; and I will add that only a bit more patience on the part of these young ladies would have furnished them more secure pleasures in the future. But they insisted on risking a foretaste of marriage which will deprive them of marriage itself, at least if they don’t find some men newly arrived from the Indies who are unaware of their little misbehavior. ROMARIN: I was the first to discover their going out; but the rest took place in too numerous a company to allow the secret to be kept. MME DUBENS: O daughter, unworthy of my affection, daughter who will cause my death, a convent is the only refuge where you can be protected from my fury. MME DE CIMIÈRE: Ah, I have been choking for the last hour! Is it possible that I could have pushed patience so far? Go, Julie, go hide in the depths of some horrid cave. But no, do not be the mistress of your own conduct; you would only abuse the privilege; and I will choose for you a cloister so austere that you will curse a thousand times a day the pernicious entertainment that you insisted on taking. JULIE (kneeling before Mme de Cimière): I am in the wrong, madam, I confess it; I ask your pardon for it; in the future I will lead a life so orderly that you will have reason to be satisfied. My first mistake, though innocent, gives me no taste for committing a second one. 19. According to Plutarch, Julius Caesar used this argument when he repudiated his second wife, Pompeia. See Lives (translated by Bernadotte Perrin, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: William Heinemann, 1943, 11 vols.), “Caesar,” sections 9-10.

268 CATHERINE DURAND MME DE CIMIÈRE: No, Julie, in vain would the voice of nature wish to speak. You will be punished, and punished harshly. Lisidor, who did you too much honor by agreeing to give you his hand in marriage, will be convinced by my severity that I do not condone your dissolute conduct. ELISE (kneeling before Mme Dubens): Ah, madam, will you be inflexible? You, the best mother in the world! You, whom I am more blameworthy for having wronged than if I had committed several crimes! Won’t you pardon a young person who didn’t know the consequences of what she was risking? Won’t … MME DUBENS (interrupting her): It is that very goodness that condemns you, and which ought to make you feel your faults more deeply. ELISE: Alcandre, is it possible that you won’t intercede for me? I believed that you did not feel indifference toward me; and the choice you had made to … ALCANDRE (interrupting her): Me, miss? I am not opposed to renewed feelings of tenderness from Madame Dubens: she has full authority to pardon you or to punish you; I take no more interest in you. JULIE: Ah, Lisidor! Is that what you had vowed to me? And if you are as brusque as Alcandre, won’t I have reason to believe you to be either the most deceitful or the flightiest of all men? LISIDOR (laughing): Good gracious, miss, you do me too much honor to ask me for my protection. Last night you had a train of men around you who are so gallant that, if they get involved ever so slightly, you will be at once freed from your difficulties. ROMARIN: That train you speak of, sir, accompanied these young ladies all the way to this door and made them a large number of offers to serve them, truly in terms that were a bit strange, and which young ladies of a bit sterner character would not have had reason to be pleased with. ELISE: What, Alcandre, you are allowing this insolent creature to tell us … ? ALCANDRE (interrupting her): My word, miss, we believe ourselves to be dispensed from the politeness that our sex owes to yours by the predecessors that you would have liked to honor us with, had the occasion at all allowed it. LISETTE: Oh, as for me, I can keep silent no longer. We are in the wrong; for I must include myself in the business, since I played no small role in it. The whole thing was a silly blunder; but for us to be accused of crimes … ! MME DUBENS: Be quiet, Lisette. Leave my presence and my house; appearances are against you. And without probing further into the motives or the results of so bizarre a pleasure that will cause my death, I repeat to you, Elise, that you

Proverb Comedies 269 will go into a convent, and that I will not take you out of it except if it should happen that someone agrees to take you as his wife. ELISE: O unhappy night! Unhappy pleasure, that costs us so dear! At least give us the consolation of placing Julie and me in the same convent. MME DE CIMIÈRE: No, no, miss; you will be separated. Madame Dubens has the same interest that I do in that. MME DUBENS: My leaning toward clemency is only too strong; but yet there is nothing that I would not do to punish a crazy girl whom I loved too well, and to prove to Alcandre that I disavow her in a situation as sad as this one. ALCANDRE: Madam, we are capable of distinguishing the innocent from the guilty. Will you kindly permit us to hope that you won’t deprive us of your friendship? MME DUBENS: Yes, sir, I promise you that, and I vouch for Madame de Cimière to do the same in regard to Lisidor. Let’s waste no more time after this in making our ungrateful daughters feel the wretchedness of their condition.

SIXTH PROVERB [Can Love Conquer Stupidity?] CHARACTERS MARQUISE D’ANGINE MADEMOISELLE D’ANGINE her daughter THE CHEVALIER DE MONIÈRE CATOS companion of Mademoiselle d’Angine CHAMPAGNE lackey of the Chevalier20 Scene: on the grounds of the chateau of Angine (Enter Catos and Champagne.) CATOS: Be careful not to let people know who sent you. Madame d’Angine is quite reasonable: if her daughter were willing to torment herself a bit less over staying in the country and over the absence of your master, we would enjoy a quite respectable 20. It was a common practice for Parisian aristocrats to call male servants by the name of the province they came from, rather than by their given name. Champagne is also the name of the valet in Murat’s playlet found in the first volume of Voyage de campagne.

270 CATHERINE DURAND liberty. But, dear boy, don’t you see? This marquise has taken such a dislike to the chevalier that a messenger from him would get a rather unpleasant reception. CHAMPAGNE: Come now, Miss Catos, do you really think that I am as silly as my master? Oh, whenever you like I’ll let you know my talents. First of all, I’m a liar, a deceiver, a whiz at conjuring tricks; you know what I mean: sleight of hand and … CATOS: Why yes, yes; I understand you all too well. CHAMPAGNE: Would you like me, Miss Catos, to inform you of some of my other little qualities? I love with devilish fire, I … CATOS: No, no, Mr. Champagne, I know enough. Inform me only what you have come here for and what flowery message you have to recite to Mademoiselle d’Angine. If you deliver it such as your master ordered you to, I believe it will be great to hear. CHAMPAGNE: Who needs flowery messages? I have a letter written in his own hand and drawn from the hollow of his own brain. CATOS: A letter! Why, I didn’t believe that the chevalier knew how to write! You are making me die of laughter, my poor Champagne; show me only the envelope. CHAMPAGNE: Here it is. (They read.) “To Mademoiselle d’Angine, at the chateau of the noble estate of Angine, at Angine.” CATOS: How many Angines! Merciful heavens! And was this letter supposed to go by the postal service? CHAMPAGNE: No, my pretty one, the intention always was for me to be the bearer of it; but is there anything astonishing in this? My master is a fool, you know that, you say so, and nothing should surprise you except for the liking that your mistress has for him. CATOS: Not so fast, Champagne, no familiarity. You may make fun of your master as much as you please; I’ll join in with it; but I find the familiar form of address displeasing.21 CHAMPAGNE: Ah, pardon me, Miss Catos. I believed that I could use with you the same familiarity that you use with me; but let’s not have any quarrel over that. Just inform me, I ask with all the respect that I owe you, what could have 21. Here Champagne has begun to address Catos using the familiar pronoun “tu.” It is not clear why she objects, since she has been using “tu” to him since the opening of the play. He reverts at once to the more formal “vous,” which he will use consistently apart from one lapse later on, for which he will again apologize. In any case, Catos, being a companion to Mlle d’Angine, enjoys a higher rank than a female servant, and probably comes from a bourgeois (though impoverished) family.

Proverb Comedies 271 caused Mademoiselle d’Angine to love the chevalier. Is it his tall, slender body that supports itself no better than a reed, his skinny and pale face, his hollow eyes, his wide nose, his elongated mouth that stretches from one ear to the other, or his marvelous wit, so insipid, boorish and tedious that no one except her has ever yet been able to stand it? I’ll give myself over to the devil, Miss Catos, if, after seeing that, I don’t believe in magic spells, unless she has made some discoveries in him that haven’t come to my knowledge, though I, being his only servant, ought to know as much about him as she does. CATOS: My word, my poor Champagne, I am just as baffled as you. My mistress is beautiful and witty; her taste has so far been defective only in the matter of your foppish chevalier. CHAMPAGNE: Oh, we would be only too happy if he were merely foppish; it’s an art not everyone can master; one needs at least a certain type of ability to merit that great title. But my master is a perfect idiot; he has never put a word in the right place; he has no more reasoning capacity than a pumpkin; and I don’t even know whether what he feels for your mistress goes beyond mere instinct, while a blind passion makes her exert herself so much for a lover with such a fine character. CATOS: If you knew, my friend, what desperation she shows in this castle, how much she sighs over the absence of the chevalier, the tears she sheds, she would move your compassion, or rather she would cause you impatience, as she does to me, for wearing herself out in refined love for a person so extraordinarily unfit. But here she comes; you need only speak to her; the poor child will be consoled at least a little by a reminder of the chevalier. (Enter Mlle d’Angine.) MLLE D’ANGINE (weeping): Will I always be locked in a castle where I am restrained as if I had committed some terrible crime? A mother, a cruel mother— didn’t she ever know the feelings of the heart? And am I criminal for loving a man I find lovable? CATOS (interrupting her): Come now, miss, don’t give way to such despair; you wound my heart with your sighs. It is true that you could have made a better choice, but … MLLE D’ANGINE: But, my dear Catos, enough of these remonstrances. (noticing Champagne) But what do I see? Why, my dear Champagne, it’s you! What is your master doing? Where is he? Does he think of me? Does he still love me? CHAMPAGNE (making a deep bow): Here is a letter, miss, that he gave me to deliver to you.

272 CATHERINE DURAND MLLE D’ANGINE: Give it to me, Champagne, give it; I have no consolation except when I hear him spoken of. (She reads.) (Enter Mme d’Angine.) MLLE D’ANGINE (noticing her mother): Ah, I feel faint! CATOS (picking up the letter that her mistress has dropped): Ah, that is a cleverly timed dizzy spell! I must take her away as quickly as possible. (Exeunt Catos and Mlle d’Angine [into the house].) MME D’ANGINE: What does all this mean? I find a man with my daughter! She faints upon seeing me! She drops a letter! (to Champagne) Can’t you clear up this mystery for me and tell me who you are? I don’t want any unknown people in my house. CHAMPAGNE: Me, madam? I am an honorable man; I have come … I have arrived … MME D’ANGINE: Out with it. You have come, you have arrived; no ruses, if you please. I need only have my drawbridge raised; you are doomed if you conceal anything from me. CHAMPAGNE: Madam, once again, I am an honorable man; I have nothing to fear; acts of violence are not well regarded in this era. MME D’ANGINE: You are beating around the bush; finish at once. Where do you come from? CHAMPAGNE: Good gracious, madam, you don’t give people the time to get their bearings; if one were a criminal, you would be quite capable of disconcerting the poor wretch. But as for me, thank God … In short, madam, I must admit to you that it is merely discretion that has kept me from speaking until now; I am a surgeon, and, not to be immodest, quite skilled in my art. I was summoned this morning on behalf of the young lady, your daughter, to bleed her. The matter was dispatched before you woke up; they had her blood thrown into your moat; they urged me to secrecy, because they say that you are a determined opponent of bleeding; and when Mademoiselle d’Angine saw you, the weakness caused by the loss of blood and also, apparently, the fear of being discovered, caused her to have the fainting spell that so amazed you. MME D’ANGINE: My daughter is crazy; she has a will of her own when it comes to medical treatment. But since you are a surgeon, I will keep you here for several

Proverb Comedies 273 days; one of my servants is ill, and I am not so great an enemy of bleeding that I won’t permit it on certain occasions. CHAMPAGNE: It’s a great honor, madam, to stay for a while in your illustrious castle. (Enter Catos.) MME D’ANGINE: My daughter is very wasteful with her blood, Catos; she could at least have asked for my advice. CHAMPAGNE (making countless gestures to Catos): Oh, good gracious, madam, when I bled her, her greatest concern was that you shouldn’t know of it. CATOS: As for me, madam, you did not place me with your daughter to be her governess; I serve her according to her wishes. MME D’ANGINE: That’s why I am not putting all the blame on you; but truly, if she were a bit less agitated, she wouldn’t need medical treatment. I am going to see how she is feeling, for I continue to love her tenderly, despite all the aggravation that she gives me. CATOS (leaving): Ah, madam, I am going to alert her of your coming; that might be capable of throwing her into another mishap of the kind that has already come over her. (Exit followed by Mme d’Angine.) CHAMPAGNE (alone): So now I am a surgeon, by the grace of my quick wit that manages to get me out of jams. It is true that I know enough about it to cripple someone and to dazzle ignorant people by using the terminology of that art; but I pity the poor wretch destined to be bled by me; it might well cost him dear. Hey, by the way! Where do I find a lancet? Ah, my word, I have a penknife that is excellent for cutting quills; I can cut his artery with this instrument just as well as with any other; and I will inform Madame d’Angine that it is all the rage at present to bleed people with penknives. (Enter Catos.) CATOS: Unfortunate Champagne! Where did you ever come up with the idea of that bleeding? And how did you get the ambition to become a surgeon? CHAMPAGNE: How? By the fear of the drawbridge that was going to be raised and of several other acts of hostility that were going to be performed on me. Here I am in the castle like a comrade; I will be called sir; I will speak as much as I

274 CATHERINE DURAND want, and by bleeding one of Madame d’Angine’s retainers, whom I will assuredly cripple, I will doubtless punish a bad servant; I would have to do the job very accurately for the result to be otherwise. CATOS: Let’s have no reflections or moralizing. Your master’s letter needs answering. You must renounce, dear boy, the great advantage of punishing a criminal and profit from the liberty that your profession gives you to leave here promptly. CHAMPAGNE: But, Miss Catos, what will Madame d’Angine say when she learns of my departure? CATOS: She will say that you are crazy; that is nothing new with a village surgeon; the judgment will attach to the surgeon, and not at all to Mr. Champagne. But before Mademoiselle d’Angine brings you her response, let’s just read the letter that her fainting spell caused her to drop and which her confusion made her forget to ask me for: it is perhaps a slight infidelity toward a mistress to wish to pry into her secrets; but after all, besides the fact that I have the position of confidante with her, isn’t she only too lucky that my quickness of mind stole this paper from a mother’s curious gaze? CHAMPAGNE: Oh, you have just made a fine defense of your action for no useful purpose! Who the devil was thinking of accusing you? Damn it all—I beg your pardon, miss; an unfortunate tendency that I have toward familiarity always makes me fail in my duty; but also it’s a fact that you are very pretty and that I would really like you to love me enough to pardon my little liberties. CATOS: Let’s read, let’s read and not waste time. (They read.) “If you are desirous of seeing me, I would really like to see you too; but, good gracious, how can I can manage it? Madame d’Angine won’t allow me to enter her castle; and if I go there in spite of her, she need only raise the drawbridge and I will be trapped as if in a cornfield. Because of all these considerations I am sending you Champagne, to whom you will tell what means there are of getting me into your presence; or else you need only speak to him just as if it were to me; that rascal is very clever; he will certainly tell me all of that. Farewell, my little wife.” CATOS (continues): Now there’s a fine letter! The moron doesn’t even have the intelligence to ask her for a reply! He prefers that you bring back her words to him. “Farewell, my little wife.” What a fine ending! How blind my mistress is to love a simpleton like him! CHAMPAGNE: As for me, I find this letter quite beautiful; never would I have thought him capable of writing one as good as this; but hush, Mademoiselle d’Angine is coming. (Enter Mlle d’Angine.)

Proverb Comedies 275 MLLE D’ANGINE: Go and bear this letter to your master, my dear friend. Tell him also that I languish when I don’t see him, and that he should depart to come see me as soon as he has received it. CHAMPAGNE (aside): How beautiful she is! How lovable she is! What regret I feel that the ball never goes to the right player! MLLE D’ANGINE: What are you saying, Champagne? Leave, I beg you; you are making me die of impatience with your delays. (Exit Champagne.) CATOS: Really now, miss, you see that I, as a faithful and kindly confidante, am getting you out of a jam, and that I let you carry out anything you wish; but as a reward for this, would you kindly tell me what you find charming in the Chevalier de Monières. MLLE D’ANGINE: First of all, Catos, I love him; that suffices, I believe, to stop your objections. Everything about him pleases me; I find his face graceful, his wit agreeable; it is only the feelings of his heart that don’t seem to me delicate enough to respond to my own. CATOS: Oh, my word, miss, I fully believe that; but how could you expect an idiot to think like you? And … MLLE D’ANGINE: Be quiet, Catos; respect my choice. I forgive your outrageous comment as stemming from your lack of taste; but be careful never to speak that way again. I love with a passion that makes me find each moment unbearably long. Ah, Catos! [sings] “Oh, how severe a torment is / The absence of the one we love!”22 But how much annoyance is added to it by the cruel constraint in which my mother keeps me within this castle! Because of her suspicions I can’t go outside the gates; the loss of my liberty followed soon after the loss of my heart, and I can see nothing but an act of desperation that would allow me to recover the one and compensate me for the other. CATOS: But come now, miss; do you find that the marquise is so much in the wrong? You love a man, who is … lovable, I concede; but his fortune is not suitable; 22. Quotation from Lully and Quinault’s opera Proserpine (1680; act 3, scene 2), in Livrets d’opéra, ed. Buford Norman, 2 vols. (Toulouse: Société de Littératures Classiques, 1999). Although a river god sings this to his beloved, a nymph, the sentiment equally applies to the close bond between the title character and her mother, from whom she will be permanently separated for part of every year, following her abduction by the god of the underworld. This operatic excerpt, showing Mlle d’Angine’s familiarity with a popular art form, also suggests her tendency to lose herself in the world of fantasy, where she can imagine the chevalier as an ideal lover. (The opera quotations are not identified in the original editions, suggesting that readers of the time would have recognized them without difficulty.)

276 CATHERINE DURAND she brings you to her country estate, where you have every possible comfort, with the one exception of being able to leave; the food is delicious, the furnishings are superb; there are lovely streams, enchanting gardens, company whenever you want. What can you possibly lack in such a lovely place? MLLE D’ANGINE: My liberty and my lover; I don’t believe that those are two indifferent items. But here is my mother; let’s be silent. (Enter Mme d’Angine.) MME D’ANGINE: A bit of absentmindedness made me forget to inquire of you, daughter, what the paper was that Catos picked up when you became indisposed. CATOS: Ha ha! Madam, that paper was a bad song that the surgeon had given me, claiming it to be good; I had showed it to the young lady to amuse her with its ridiculous character; and I don’t know what I have done with it since, unless I gave it back to that moron. MME D’ANGINE: But that surgeon, where is he? I have just had him looked for in order to see the patient, and nobody found him. CATOS: He’s a type of madman who must have gone off to stroll in your beautiful gardens like a man of importance; I will find him quickly, and the patient isn’t urgent. MME D’ANGINE: In God’s name, daughter, don’t show me so much listlessness in your eyes any more; the cause of it is hateful to me; it is up to you to cure yourself of it. MLLE D’ANGINE: Why, madam, how can you expect me to make my eyes sparkle with joy? I have none in my mind! Always locked up like a hermit, without ever going outside these surrounding walls, I spend days that are very agreeable for a girl of my age! MME D’ANGINE: Once I can be assured that your blind passion is over for a man unworthy of you, I will bring you back to Paris, and I will give you all the pleasures that an honorable girl is allowed to take; but we will speak again of this tonight. I am going off to give some orders to my house-steward for a dinner that I am scheduled to give tomorrow. (Exit.) MLLE D’ANGINE: My poor Catos, for the last quarter of an hour I haven’t been listening to my mother. Just look toward the far end of this courtyard; look, and you will have no further doubt as to what is distracting me.

Proverb Comedies 277 CATOS: Why, it’s the Chevalier de Monières! How outlandish he looks! MLLE D’ANGINE: Who cares, Catos? He’s here in any case; that’s the matter most essential to my happiness. He doubtless adopted this disguise to get inside here more easily. (Enter Chevalier.) CHEVALIER (dressed as a peasant): It wasn’t Champagne, no, it wasn’t, who advised me to disguise myself. I alone am the one who invented this stratagem. MLLE D’ANGINE: Chevalier, how charming of you to have made no further delay in coming to deliver me from the pitiful state I am in! CHEVALIER: I don’t know what you want me to deliver you from; I have merely come to see you, because I feared the endless reproaches that you always give me; that annoys me. I don’t like to be scolded. MLLE D’ANGINE: No, chevalier, I will not scold you for the rest of my life; when I happen to do so, it’s my excessive tenderness that is the cause; but in the future, I will treat you in the way you wish, and I won’t say one word to you, I won’t give you one look that doesn’t assure you of my love. CHEVALIER: Just make sure to remember that. CATOS: But are you really secure in this courtyard? Let’s go into the gardens; you will be able to converse at your ease; meanwhile I will keep watch. CHEVALIER: But what do we have to tell each other that’s so extensive? I really need to go back as quickly as possible; if the marquise happened to notice me, we’d see a pretty mess. MLLE D’ANGINE: Cruel man! If you loved as I do, you wouldn’t be in such a hurry. I am risking more than you in this business. And then, to speak frankly, a thought just came into my mind that we simply must act upon: you apparently have a horse outside the gates? CHEVALIER: Yes, I have one, which I gave into the care of a little boy whom I don’t know. MLLE D’ANGINE: Well, chevalier, I will run away with you through the park gate; we will go to the spot where you left your horse; I will ride behind you and you will abduct me. CHEVALIER: I will abduct you! And where will I take you? First of all, I have no money.

278 CATHERINE DURAND MLLE D’ANGINE: Oh, I have some, plus enough jewelry to allow us to survive until I have made peace with my mother. I can’t remain locked up any longer; I can no longer live without you. Let’s go, chevalier; let’s not waste one moment. Catos will remain and endure the initial outbursts of an enraged mother, who will calm down in the end, as so many other mothers do. CATOS: My word, that’s a pleasant commission that you’re giving me. (Exeunt Chevalier and Mlle d’Angine; she continues alone.) There’s a fine escape! And that man will make her spend some sweet moments, once this frantic passion has had a bit of time to slow down! But as for me, what obstacle could I have put in the way of this abduction? I would have created a scandal and a commotion, and the poor girl would have had the right to complain about me, whereas now she can accuse only herself for her misfortune. Here is the marquise; what am I going to tell her? (Enter Mme d’Angine.) MME D’ANGINE: Where is my daughter, Catos? I just saw her through my windows walking in the gardens with a tall peasant. What could she say to him? CATOS: I don’t know, madam, what she was saying to him; but a certain resemblance between this peasant and the Chevalier de Monières made me feel a bit suspicious, and I asked everyone where you were, in order to alert you of it. MME D’ANGINE: Ah, Catos, what prospect are you making me contemplate? How unhappy I am! Let’s run to seek her; let’s make all my servants go on horseback, and let’s neglect nothing to avoid the dishonor of my house. CATOS (aside): Before all these orders have been given, the fugitives will have reached safety.

Proverb Comedies 279 SEVENTH PROVERB IN THREE ACTS [Will Sorrows Never Cease?] CHARACTERS THE BARONESS a young widow THE COUNT a colonel MADEMOISELLE DUFRENNE a friend of the widow THE MARQUIS THE ABBÉ 23 MERLIN valet of the Marquis Scene: a wood, on the banks of a stream

Act I (Enter Count and Abbé.) COUNT: Damn it, abbé, a man must be really crazy to go off to the army and get crippled! Valor has lovely rewards! I bear on my body some quite honorable wounds, but consider me dishonored if I get caught there again.24 ABBÉ: Gently now, count. A Frenchman is impatient, but he is brave. If war started anew, we would see you fly off to glory more than ever, and sooner or later glory finds the rewards that are due to it. But as for me, what resource can I have? During the two years that I have been pursuing benefices, has anyone seen a shorter wig under a skull cap than mine? Or cuffs flatter than the ones I am wearing? However, what have I obtained except refusals?

23. An abbé (there is no real English equivalent) was a priest who had no church position but functioned in secular society as a semiofficial representative of the religious establishment. Abbés during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries tended to be highly cultivated; many of them frequented the salons and composed literary or other intellectual works. Some abbés took only minor orders and were not full-fledged priests, but they were still required to take a vow of celibacy. This did not always stop them from courting the ladies, as they do in cynical comedies of the period. The abbé in this play is a priest and behaves impeccably, though he displays an extensive familiarity with the conventions of love poetry and mingles easily in polite society. 24. Nobles who served in royally declared wars were expected to cover all their own expenses, and high-ranking officers were expected to recruit, arm, and pay their own regiments. At war’s end the king, if there was enough money in his treasury, would provide reimbursement to them; if not, the officers could face financial ruin.

280 CATHERINE DURAND COUNT: My poor abbé, let’s rail against fortune. It is sweet at least to speak ill of it, since one can’t be revenged on it. ABBÉ: If I am not mistaken, we are going to need our eloquence for another use. Do you see a widow in full mourning attire, who is approaching us with a handkerchief in her hand? That’s the Baroness de Dabière who lost her husband just recently. And the young Mademoiselle Dufrenne whom I espy with her seems to me no less distressed, although she is not wearing such lugubrious clothing. COUNT: This Mademoiselle Dufrenne is beautiful. Let’s speak to them, my dear abbé, since you know them. (Enter Baroness and Mlle Dufrenne.) ABBÉ: Really now, baroness, always in tears! Can’t your lovely eyes be put to less sad uses? BARONESS: Alas, abbé, you know what I have lost; you are aware of how the baron and I used to live: never did any disputes, never did any jealousy disturb our happiness. Even war, pitiless war, had respected so fair a union; and a simple fever carries off my dear spouse at a time when we were spending together days flowing with joy! MLLE DUFRENNE: Ah, madam, he was your husband? Nothing is so suitable to console you: love doesn’t reign for long in a household; it only goes from more to less. I have acquainted you with misfortunes of so humiliating and so sharp a nature that you should not compare your own to them. ABBÉ: My word, ladies, I am persuaded that there will be consolations for all your disasters; and I, who am speaking to you, have my little share of them, which isn’t the youngest son’s portion. Despite all that, I want to do the honors of the stage. Here is the poor marquis in despair over the rigors of his ungrateful beloved; his face hardly looks human. (Enter Marquis.) Marquis, what a state you are in! Must a brave man like you abandon himself to his grief over the cruelty of a ladylove? MARQUIS: Don’t make fun of me, my poor abbé. For two years I have been following a coquette’s every step; I have been lavishly treating her to operas, plays, banquets, late-night suppers; I am not speaking of my constant attention or my sighs. The barbarous woman has never given me any credit for it. But what puts the finishing touch on my grief is that a bourgeois, a conceited ass, has managed to touch her heart. Content with such a choice, she boasts of it in my presence, and I am coming to these woods to hide my shame and to await another response from the heartless creature. (noticing the ladies) But, abbé, you are not introducing me to these ladies! Their names and their faces are not unknown to me, and I believe I find in them two illustrious unhappy persons who will doubtless take

Proverb Comedies 281 pity on my woes. Those woes are of a kind to be told to trees and to rocks; judge whether I ought to inform so fine a company about them. BARONESS: Yes, sir, self-love will not prevent us from sharing in them. Unconsolable though I am, I still find tears for the misfortunes of others. MLLE DUFRENNE: As for me, sir, I admit that I am not so compassionate. Your obstinacy over a person whom you yourself label a coquette earns you this fate. If you had been loved by her and if she had left you for another, that would be a stinging blow; but … ABBÉ: Ah, miss, will you permit me to guess the cause of your affliction? Do not blush for it; your beauty is such that it will always put in the wrong those people you will have to complain of, and the inconstancy of a lover will never seem like anything but a caprice of blind Fortune toward you. COUNT: What you say is true, abbé; any attempt to attack the young lady’s merit will invariably miss its mark. But despite all that I cannot believe that she has had so bizarre an experience of men’s inconstancy. MLLE DUFRENNE: However, it is all too true, sir. I too must give myself the relief of relating my grief. Enough examples prove that it is the stars that form and destroy the affections of the heart. I don’t fail to find myself humbled in admitting my sad adventure; my pride rebels within me every time I think about it. No matter. [sings] “My weakness I must now admit, / To start my punishment for it.”25 I was loved by a charming man; because of a certain disparity in our fortunes we were not permitted to see each other freely; mystery was required; we loved each other better because of that. But since people cannot dispense with seeing each other when love is violent, a lady friend, the falsest friend who ever lived, offered us her house and her mediation. I embraced her a thousand times, that cruel, perfidious creature; I confided my secret to her; I let her see my beloved as much as she wanted. They saw each other only too much; advances from the lady and weakness from the cavalier compose the rest of the story. The traitor perhaps found more solid pleasures at the side of his new conquest; his desire for me became less keen; and never has there been an affliction like mine. COUNT: Forget, miss; forget a man who gives you offense. Make a more reliable choice among all the men of rank; perhaps there isn’t one who could have left you once he had the glory to be loved by you. 25. Quotation from the opera Amadis by Lully and Quinault (1684; act 2, scene 2), in Livrets d’opéra. The evil sorceress Arcabonne, who admits that her profession should compel her to feel only hatred, and never love, laments her unrequited passion for the handsome stranger who saved her life. He will turn out to be Amadis, the slayer of her brother, whose death she has vowed to avenge. The choice of this passage indicates the extent of Mlle Dufrenne’s conflicted feelings.

282 CATHERINE DURAND ABBÉ: We all know, at the present moment, what to believe; we will be able to speak of it when we please. But in the meantime, ladies, will you find it agreeable if I offer you a light repast, like that of heroes in novels,26 in a quite pretty house I have near here? BARONESS: I consent, although now my principal food is my own tears. MARQUIS (to the baroness): You allow me, madam, to have the honor of giving you my hand to escort you to your carriage. COUNT (to Mlle Dufrenne): The young lady will, if she pleases, do me the same honor. ABBÉ: As for me, I am going on foot, because it is just nearby, and because I am not as gallant as you gentlemen. (Exeunt.)

Act II (Enter Count and Abbé.) ABBÉ: Count, upon my word, you catch fire easily! This morning you seemed like a maniac; you are at present playing the perfect lover with Mademoiselle Dufrenne. COUNT: I am not playing, my dear abbé; I find her quite charming. If my fortune were better, I would offer it to her with all my heart. You are laughing, cruel friend, instead of pitying me for a passion that is going to add to my misfortunes … ABBÉ: If I am laughing, count, it is truly a reflex of my mouth, in which my heart has no part. The packet of letters that you saw me receive during dinner contained a note from one of our common friends, informing me that the petition that you’ve had presented to the king by that man who was so eager to serve you—that petition, I say, has not yet been answered. And I also learn that people are making little comments about me that are visibly moving me away from a bishopric. However, I am a bit philosophical; I try at least to seem like one on the outside. Several of the most famous philosophers have hardly pushed the matter any further. COUNT: My petition hasn’t been answered! I am treated like a mercenary soldier! Oh good Lord, gentlemen, start the war again as often as you like. I am your very humble servant, and you can carry on without me. But, my poor abbé, I’m 26. In other words, a simple and not copious meal. In chivalric literature heroes tend to pay minimal attention to their physical needs.

Proverb Comedies 283 a scatterbrain; I am not thinking about speaking to you of the matter that concerns you. Let’s shake hands, my good lad; see how well-treated we both are! But Mademoiselle Dufrenne isn’t here yet! She had repeatedly promised us to follow us shortly to our brook. Her friend the widow might well find some consolation in the company of that uncouth marquis. ABBÉ: Be quiet, count; here they all come. Hurry to offer your hand to your goddess. (Enter Marquis, Baroness, Mlle Dufrenne.) So what’s this? I see all of you more distressed than you were when we parted! BARONESS: Alas, abbé! We have only too good reason to be. I have received news from Paris. My son, the sole token of the baron’s love, who was put out to nurse, died suddenly in his crib. And Mademoiselle Dufrenne learned from the same messenger that her faithless lover is marrying her rival. COUNT: Ah, miss, out of favor though I am, if my wishes might be received by you, and if your resentment were willing to turn you in my direction, I would bless my lot, and I would gladly renounce all the presents of the court. MLLE DUFRENNE: I know, count, how valuable such words are in the mouth of a man like you. But believe me; don’t imagine that you are cured. Disgruntled courtiers make their imaginations travel far; love appears to them as a haven, but that haven becomes tiresome to them as soon as reflection is mixed in. Think about regaining the king’s good graces, and let my fury have the leisure to increase. COUNT: Me, miss? You don’t know me; I will do without anything, rather than do without you. ABBÉ: Have a little patience, count, and let’s find out, if you please, after sharing in the baroness’s new grief, what increase the marquis believes he has in his grief; for he seems terribly distressed. MARQUIS: Me, abbé? I have no other grief than that of the baroness; her sighs pierce my soul. Is it possible, unless one is unspeakably callous, not to feel her woes in the bottom of one’s heart? ABBÉ: My word, gentlemen, you are moving at a good pace in your tenderness; but don’t put on such sad airs. The beginnings of passion ought to be pleasant. MARQUIS: I perceive my valet who is just arriving from Paris. Ladies, will you permit me to speak to him in front of you? BARONESS: I don’t believe that anyone is against it. (Enter Merlin.) MARQUIS: Approach, Merlin, approach; these ladies don’t object.

284 CATHERINE DURAND MERLIN: My word, sir, I don’t know whether I ought, in spite of the permission you are giving me, to inform you in front of everybody of the little amorous setbacks that have befallen you since your departure. MARQUIS: Hey, speak out, Mr. scoundrel; you are playing the mocker at a fine time! MERLIN: Sir, these aren’t trifles, at least, that I have to relate to you; you will perhaps be sorry for your openness. MARQUIS: Oh speak, Mr. Merlin, speak out. Wouldn’t one think, listening to you, that I am condemned to be hanged? MERLIN: No, not quite; but if honor is the least bit dear to you, I don’t believe you will be very content to learn that the beautiful lady, on whom you spent ruinous sums of money, at whose side you have wasted your time, who preferred to you the greatest fop in Paris—this lady, I say, said this morning to a distinguished gathering that you were the most tiresome, the most insipid, the most gullible of all … MARQUIS: Stop, you beast, or the respect that I have for these ladies will not be able to prevent me … ABBÉ: My word, marquis, you were the one who insisted. Don’t blame it on Mr. Merlin. He had all the politeness of a man of breeding; he wanted to tell you these slight trifles in private; you forced him to break the silence. But after all, is there anything here to make you angry? And do the comments of a coquette make a serious impression? MERLIN: Oh good Lord, Mr. Abbé, they make only too big of one. I saw more than ten people of breeding fully persuaded of the truth of these statements. MARQUIS: Ah, that’s the final blow! I’ll get even with you for this, you villain; or else don’t come into my presence without a good escort. (Merlin runs away.) ABBÉ: It is starting to get late. I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea for us to all spend the night at the baroness’s home. Consent to this little enjoyment. Here is the marquis beside himself because of his valet’s frankness. There would be cruelty in depriving him of the consolation that your conversation gives him. BARONESS: Let’s go, abbé. We are so at ease with you that we want to profit from being neighbors; and my new affliction is so keen that I cannot work too hard to deaden it.

Proverb Comedies 285 COUNT: As for me, I naturally follow the abbé’s fortune; and besides, even if I didn’t have pressing reasons not to abandon this company, I am expecting news from Paris tomorrow that should be quite interesting. (Exeunt.)

Act III (Enter Count and Abbé.) COUNT: As you see, abbé, the services of brave men are recognized sooner or later; the pension that the king has graciously bestowed on me is proof of it. What better action could this great monarch take, now that he has given peace to Europe?27 High positions would at present be vain titles; only monetary compensation makes sense. One must admit that a man of breeding in France cannot exercise a better profession than ours. ABBÉ: Yesterday I was in such a bad mood, just like you, that if I hadn’t on my end received pleasant news, I wouldn’t be listening to your outbursts of joy patiently. But an abbey that the king agrees to confer upon me is putting me into a gentle frame of mind that gives me patience. COUNT: You are right, my dear abbé. You are showing me my faults with a gentle tone that doesn’t fail to make me feel ashamed; but it is true that I am very content, and that if Mademoiselle Dufrenne agrees to grow softer toward me, I will not complain of my lot. ABBÉ: I believe that if you wish to offer her your heart and your fortune, she will not send you away discontented. There is only that poor marquis whom I dreadfully pity! How wondrously destiny pursues him! He is mistreated by a woman whom he adores; he starts to transfer his affections to the grief-stricken baroness; an indiscreet valet arrives to tell him some things in front of her that are capable of ruining her impression of him. And while this widow loses a son, thus depriving her of control over the family fortune, and she could recoup her losses by marrying the marquis, that scoundrel Merlin makes her lose her taste for him through a too artless narrative and may perhaps prevent two persons from becoming happy. COUNT: Really now! The baroness is not so fastidious; the two of them are marvelously well matched; I guarantee that both will be charmed by their good fortune this very day. We only need to tell the marquis that the words of a valet cannot

27. The Peace of Ryswick concluded the War of the League of Augsburg (1688–97), in which France had been engaged against England, Spain, Austria, the Netherlands, and Sweden.

286 CATHERINE DURAND damage his reputation; he will simply believe it; the widow will be assured by us that the marquis is quite the right man for her; and voilà! both will be content. ABBÉ: Those good people are indeed incapable of great subtlety. But you, count, have you already made a bit of progress in your business with the beautiful Dufrenne? COUNT: Be quiet, abbé, here they all come. (Enter Baroness, Marquis, Mlle Dufrenne.) MARQUIS (going up to the count and the abbé): My friends, I must inform you of my happiness, since you have taken part in my troubles. The baroness accepts my heart and my hand; I am only too happy that my annual income of 20,000 pounds can help dry her tears, and that she does not find me displeasing. BARONESS: Since I have resolved to embark anew on marriage, I must not hide from these gentlemen that an astonishing rapport has caused in me a metamorphosis that I did not believe I was capable of, and that my joy is as perfect today as my grief was frightful yesterday. ABBÉ: Since you were not awake, ladies, when I received a letter containing the announcement that the king has given me a substantial abbey, you consent for me to inform you of it at present and to mingle my satisfaction with yours? COUNT: As for me, I have so much reason to be satisfied with the pension that the king has bestowed on me, that, except for one point, I am the happiest man in the world. MLLE DUFRENNE: Enjoy Fortune’s return, all of you. I don’t envy you your pleasures. Being the only person in despair, I have nothing left but to hide myself in order not to disturb you with my tears. COUNT: Ah, what powerful charms there are in beautiful weeping eyes! I told you so yesterday in prose, miss; but I did not explain myself openly. My fortune was too limited for me to dare offer it to you; but at the present moment I make you the offer and the sacrifice of it, and you will shower me with honor and joy if you consent to turn your lovely eyes toward me and to forget an ingrate who is too unworthy of you. MLLE DUFRENNE: Ah, sir, there is something quite flattering and even quite consoling in such a speech! But you hardly know me; and you would get a terrible impression of me, if through a sudden change … ABBÉ: No, miss, no; you mustn’t, if you please, disturb this day by an ill-timed delicacy. We know indeed that according to proper form you would have to console yourself little by little; you would be required, in lovers’ parlance, to dry your

Proverb Comedies 287 tears in the count’s fires. But this play must observe the unity of time,28 and you will make your dried eyes shine immediately, or else we will have reason to complain of you. COUNT: The abbé is bantering, miss; but the tone is irrelevant. What he says is very sensible, and I ask you at least for a glance that can give me some hope. MLLE DUFRENNE: All right then, count, since, without being bad company, I cannot refuse you a favor, and since my eyes are not presently in a state to look at you as you deserve, I will tell you that I believe I have come out far ahead by losing a faithless man, by which means I acquire you. COUNT: Let me die at your feet, divine creature, to render you a million thanks! My happiness is perfect, and I clearly see that one must go through pains in order to reach pleasures.29 ABBÉ: Enough of ecstasy and quotations. I espy poor Merlin behind a tree, in a contrite mood that ought to make him find mercy from his master; let us all intercede for him. BARONESS: Come here, Merlin; I want to arrange your pardon. (Enter Merlin.) MERLIN (kneeling): Sir, just like Sosia, I renounce sincerity forever;30 but remember that I didn’t want to speak and that, stupid though I am, I clearly foresaw the consequences. ABBÉ: No, my poor Merlin; don’t trouble yourself with justifications. Embrace your master’s knees. He is too happy and too good-hearted not to forget everything. MARQUIS: I grant the baroness the pardon that you never would have obtained. MERLIN: My word, sir, this little incident has taught me just how fond I am of you, and … ABBÉ: Now we are all reconciled with Fortune. It would be sweet to make your little offerings to that deity in this rustic spot; but I have to go to Versailles to thank the king for his kindness. 28. The abbé, not for the first time, seems aware that he is a character in a play and insists on the rules associated with French classical theory. The unity of time limited the action of a play to a span of no more than twenty-four hours, and this playlet begins on the morning of one day and ends on the morning of the next. 29. A traditional notion that ultimately goes back to Plato. The fact that it is a cliché provokes an ironic comment from the abbé. 30. Servant of the title character in Molière’s Amphitryon (1668), whose identity is stolen by the god Mercury and who is constantly insulted and beaten when he attempts to tell the truth.

288 CATHERINE DURAND COUNT: I am committed to doing the same thing. BARONESS: And I am delighted to go inform my family of my lucky adventure. MARQUIS: As for me, madam, I can no longer leave you. MLLE DUFRENNE: I am following the baroness to Paris. Count, we hope to see you there when you return from Versailles. COUNT: Yes, miss, yes; you’ll see me there. Every moment that I spend without you will seem like a year. MERLIN: I am going to order the carriages for the departure. ABBÉ: When we have all fulfilled our obligations, I offer you the house where you slept last night to celebrate the weddings.31

EIGHTH PROVERB [Is This Youth Teachable?] CHARACTERS THE VISCOUNT THE COUNT MR. PEDANTA MR. DE FORMONT MADEMOISELLE DEMERIS MARINETTE

a schoolboy father of the viscount his academic tutor his governor [military tutor] fiancée of the viscount Mlle Demeris’s companion

Scene: The great hall of the count’s chateau (Enter de Formont and Pedanta.) DE FORMONT: Truly, Mr. Pedanta, you are much to be pitied for having to cultivate a person so devoid of ability as the viscount! He barely knows how to read. You are killing yourself, body and soul, and I don’t believe that you are making much headway. PEDANTA: With patience, one can succeed in anything. This morning I took him right as he got out of bed; that is the time when ideas are the clearest. I gave 31. As master of ceremonies for the group, the abbé begins at once to plan the double wedding and offers for the occasion not his own home, but rather that of the baroness (larger and better furnished). Clearly his friendship with the baroness is of long standing for him to propose this arrangement and not fear that she will find him rude.

Proverb Comedies 289 him a lesson which, with God’s help, should have made some impression on his mind. If worse comes to worst, I am making a great effort to satisfy the count, his father. If my pains don’t bring a successful result, I shall have done my duty; and philosophy teaches me that one must never get angry at anything. But you, Mr. de Formont, are you making better progress than I am in your training of this young plant that has been entrusted to us? DE FORMONT: Oh, as for me, Mr. Pedanta, since all I have to inspire is the feelings of a man of honor, I cannot fail to succeed. Being a nobleman suffices to be receptive to gentle hints that one must have valor, integrity, an urbane air. One doesn’t need great intellect for all of that. Therefore, heaven be praised, I am careful not to claim any. It is a sad business, Mr. Pedanta, to spend one’s life poring over books, or to make one’s sole striving the arranging of wretched convoluted sentences, which quite often do nothing but bore honorable people. PEDANTA: You are attacking scholars, Mr. de Formont. However, their pens are to be feared. One might find some weak spot in this valor that you profess. It is a praiseworthy virtue in some people and a brutal madness in others. Who, after all, knows which kind is the one that you possess? DE FORMONT: Stop, Mr. Pedanta; a philosopher ought to resist his passions. Keep your petulance for your student, in case he has forgotten that fine lesson upon which you are basing such great hopes. Besides, I see the count, who does not need to know of our disagreements. (Enter Count.) COUNT: Do you hope, Mr. de Formont, that you can at least make a man of honor of my son? That is my sole aim at present. I would have been pleased if his mind could have been trained; but I no longer aspire so high, and I will consider myself too happy to see a few virtues in him, for lack of attractive qualities. PEDANTA: Sir, you must not despair so quickly. Some minds develop late. Permit me to instruct the viscount for a mere ten years more, and I will make him the most learned nobleman in the kingdom. COUNT: Ten years, Mr. Pedanta! My son is already twenty; he would be the senior schoolboy in the kingdom. Ah, of course! You have seen the fable about that man who promised to make a donkey talk in the same number of years; and you are hoping, like him, that one of us three will die before then; that is what is making you hazard such a rash promise.32 32. This traditional story goes back to ancient times (Abstemius), but the direct source is probably La Fontaine’s fable, entitled “The Charlatan” (Fables, ed. Georges Couton, [Paris: Garnier Frères, 1962], Book 6, fable 19).

290 CATHERINE DURAND DE FORMONT: No, sir, no; that isn’t Mr. Pedanta’s idea. His vanity and his own example give him extraordinary hopes. The first persuades him that there is no mind, however savage, that his eloquence can’t succeed with, and the other that knowledge is acquired only when the fires of youth have passed. For as you now see him, sir, he turned pale plowing through an entire library, without managing to reach the honor of being a professor in a grammar school until age fifty. PEDANTA: And you, Mr. de Formont, for all your fancy display of bravery, at what age were you still an ensign in the regiment of … ? COUNT (interrupting him): Your disputes are not the issue here; it’s my son we are talking about. To tell you the truth, Mr. Pedanta, I will soon dismiss you; I now believe you to be the less useful of his tutors. But I still need Mr. de Formont to inspire courage in him. DE FORMONT: I believe, sir, that I have given him some quite strong lessons on that subject; and whenever you please to send him on his first military campaign, my example will teach him more than my speeches. Meanwhile, Mademoiselle Demeris, who is charming, will awaken his mind, which, to be honest, is a bit dull. COUNT: Ah, here she is with Miss Marinette! Mr. Pedanta, bring my son downstairs. (Exit Pedanta; enter Mlle Demeris and Marinette.) How good and gracious you are, miss, to agree to take the trouble to come in person to visit a lover so unworthy of you! MLLE DEMERIS: The wishes of a dying father should count as a command. My father had for you, sir, an affection so sincere that he did not consult my choice; and, too content to form an alliance with you, he promised me to your son, without daring to doubt of his merit, because he had the honor of being your offspring. I gladly submitted to the order my father gave me to look upon him as a husband. You know that I have neglected nothing to tease out a glimmer of intelligence in a man to whom I was to be united. Until now, I have done so in vain. I come to make a last attempt. If it is no more successful than the others, I will beg you to release me from my promise. COUNT: It is just, miss, that you not be constrained in a matter that must decide the happiness of your life. My unfortunate son is going to come down; I fear that today I will lose the hope of a union that I have so greatly wished for. (Enter Viscount and Pedanta.) Greet the young lady, son, and try to do it in a becoming manner. VISCOUNT: Hello, miss; your humble servant. DE FORMONT: What, viscount, keeping your hat on in the presence of a beautiful woman who is engaged to you?

Proverb Comedies 291 PEDANTA: Viscount, you are dishonoring me. For an hour I have been rehearsing with you a formal speech to make to the young lady, and you are speaking to her like a savage. VISCOUNT (to Mr. de Formont, who pulls off his hat): Yes, my governor, you want me to catch a cold. Will that make the young lady any plumper? PEDANTA: Very well, sir, do not catch cold, but speak up and raise your eyes. Come now, repeat after me. “The star that gives us light.” VISCOUNT (looking up in the air): “The star that gives us light.” PEDANTA: But do look at the young lady! VISCOUNT: But do look at the young lady. PEDANTA: Why now, viscount, that is not part of the speech; I am telling you to look at Mademoiselle Demeris. VISCOUNT: Fiddlesticks! What good will it do her if I look at her? COUNT: Ah, I’m choking! But, son, don’t you find her beautiful, and won’t you be supremely happy if you possess her? VISCOUNT: Provided that she plays shuttlecock well, I will look at her as much as she wants. MARINETTE: The viscount is right: there is nothing like holding a racket. Fine! You speak to him of marriage, of beauty, of possession, and he is still just a little scamp. It’s true that he’s twenty years old and that he’s as tall as the ceiling, but he has a very young mind, and he will be shrewd enough to stay that way for a long time. DE FORMONT: It might well be that the viscount lacks the full delicacy required to appreciate the young lady’s merit; there are even people of his age who are not yet susceptible to love. But I can boast that I have elevated his heart to a sense of glory. Isn’t it true, sir, that you do not yet find yourself worthy of possessing the young lady, and that you would be very pleased to merit her through some courageous action? VISCOUNT: Courage? I don’t know what that is; I haven’t yet heard of it. DE FORMONT: What, sir, I didn’t teach you that in France a nobleman is dishonored when he lacks valor? That one must go to the army to acquire reputation and to gain for oneself a sort of merit that pleases ladies and brave men equally? VISCOUNT: Aha! Yes, you told me something like that, but it seems to me that you also said that people sometimes came back from there crippled. Good

292 CATHERINE DURAND gracious, that gives me a distaste for it: I need my legs for walking, and my arms for playing shuttlecock. MARINETTE: The poor child! He has his heart set on shuttlecock; that must be his greatest expense. VISCOUNT: My shuttlecocks don’t cost me anything; it’s my father who gives them to me. When I have money, I keep it for myself. MARINETTE: Another fine propensity! I assure you that this young lord has a fully complete set of merits, miss. Hurry up and make him your husband. I exempt you from remorse, should you get the urge to give him a comrade; that is always a convenience. MLLE DEMERIS: Be quiet, Marinette. I pity the count for having so ill-favored a son; nature made a mistake in having him issue from such a father. (to the count) Sir, you can judge that there is no way to contract a serious engagement with the viscount. COUNT: Ah, miss, I am suffering everything that one can imagine. (to his son) What, you wretch, you lose the young lady without grief! What, you fear to be wounded in the army! Unworthy son of a father like me! Nothing—not my care, my example, my wishes, your tutors, a beautiful woman—can drag a sensible word from your mouth or a noble feeling from your heart! I abandon you to your bizarre fate; and the most that the name of father can permit me is not to throw you out of my house after the pain that you are causing me. DE FORMONT: As for me, sir, I am ashamed by this last stroke from the viscount! I admit to you that I can hope for nothing more from my lessons. But I have nothing to reproach myself for, and nature alone is guilty for his deficiencies. PEDANTA: Sir, after the lesson that I gave to the viscount this morning, of which he does not remember a single word, and the gallant and polished speech that I had taught him to deliver to Mademoiselle Demeris, I am no longer permitted to waste my time with him. I would sooner teach academic subjects to a chicken than to this man with no manners, no aptitude, no memory. MARINETTE: Well, viscount, isn’t your heart bleeding at these reproaches? Your father ceases to love you; your governor despises you, your tutor hates you; your fiancée is abandoning you; you are going to remain in bad company, at least, for you’ll be all alone, and … VISCOUNT (jumping up and down): Hey, great, so much the better! That’s what I want. I won’t have anyone near me except my lackey, Little John; I will run around with him in the garden, and I won’t hear anything more about things that I can’t understand.

Proverb Comedies 293 COUNT: Pitiless Heaven! What did I do to deserve so cruel a torment?

NINTH PROVERB [How Should One Choose a Bride?] CHARACTERS LICIDOR PHILINTE 33 ELISE MARIANE [Scene: a room in Philinte’s house.] (Enter Licidor and Philinte.) LICIDOR: What? You are serious about getting married, after the opposition I have seen you display to that fatal bond that people so often repent of having gotten themselves into! PHILINTE: Yes, my friend, very seriously I am getting married, and it is with perfect confidence and a perceptible joy. The woman I am marrying is beautiful, young, witty, well-behaved; I will be only too happy to possess her. LICIDOR: That is quite a list of desirable qualities; but you show a great selflessness, for you say nothing of her wealth, and I have always heard it said that that was the essential feature in such matters. PHILINTE: Indeed, my friend, that is precisely the point that I did not dwell on. I even believe that she has no dowry except her merits and her charms. LICIDOR: So then you are madly in love? PHILINTE: I am in love as much as one can be with a person whom one hardly knows; but, my friend, don’t you know that one often gets married for the sake of other people and that on this occasion, as on all occasions in life, one seeks the approval of everyone? I feel contentment by marrying Elise; men respect her, women like her, the public gives her a thousand praises. In short, dear friend, her name is echoed everywhere linked with attributes capable of flattering my vanity. LICIDOR: Ah, I wasn’t expecting talk of echoes; you have become a great exaggerator. It is true that I have heard people talk of Elise as a girl approaching 33. The name, borrowed from Molière’s Le Misanthrope (1666), suggests a loyal friend who is also phlegmatic and a voice of reason.

294 CATHERINE DURAND perfection; but though I don’t want to sound like a giver of advice, consider that something that one sees every moment no longer gives as much pleasure; it requires a certain perspective to appreciate merit in its proper light; your love will fade, children will come along; your fortune is considerable enough for you alone, but you will be very embarrassed with a crowd of heirs, and that is when you will repent for having fed yourself on an empty air of reputation that won’t add one penny to your income. PHILINTE: I am not totally crazy, Licidor; if I weren’t expecting a considerable inheritance, I would not embark upon making an honorable choice that might become a burden to me; but since I foresee a considerable opulence in the future, with whom can I better share it than with a person whom everyone wishes well, and who cannot fail to make me happy? In short, dear friend, I have brought you along to see my beloved. She is soon going to come to this apartment with one of her lady friends; and to let you into all my secrets, this friend, who has an immense fortune, would not have refused my heart and my hand, if I had offered them both to her; but since her reputation is not at all as pure as Elise’s, although she is just as beautiful, I did not hesitate to make the more glorious choice, and I will have public opinion on my side. LICIDOR: I yield, my dear Philinte; I see that you have reasoned this out, and that it is not a mad passion that makes you act. Having the commendation of everyone is indeed an entire satisfaction. But here apparently are the two friends. (Enter Mariane and Elise.) PHILINTE: The three Graces, divine Elise, follow your steps everywhere you go; people shower you with the most extreme praise, yet one can never go beyond what you deserve; and even the poets could not find among their expressions terms strong enough to depict the charms of your person, the greatness of your intelligence, the nobility of your soul. For this, adorable Elise, you must blame only the sterility of the language, for there is no one who doesn’t exhaust all its richness in order to try to express what people think of you. ELISE: You are becoming a poet yourself, Philinte; exaggerations no longer cost you anything. Be careful that you don’t let yourself get led astray by self-love, and that, having chosen me as your spouse, you don’t believe you see in me, for that reason, a merit above what I really have. MARIANE: No, my dear Elise, I answer for Philinte as to the selflessness of his words. I have known you too long to be able to make a mistake by agreeing with the judgment that everyone makes of you. It is only in accordance with that great judge that we heap praise on you, [to Philinte] and your particular approval adds but very little to the universal encomium.

Proverb Comedies 295 PHILINTE: It is true, charming Elise, that I had heard wondrous things said of you. But I admit that all my favorable disposition did not approach what I have learned firsthand. I always imagine that everyone has individual views that are more or less broad, and I flatter myself that I have made discoveries in your perfections that had escaped the most perceptive eyes; other people will perhaps surpass even me, and I am not jealous of that. You have an inexhaustible reserve of divine qualities, and you will always be beyond wonderment, no matter how far one may push it. LICIDOR: As for me, my dear Philinte, I am no longer that severe critic who was seeking to find the weakness in your choice. I am now convinced by the mere sight of your adorable beloved; you can never be happy with anyone except her. Her modesty alone, that lovable blushing that covers her cheeks when her ears are struck by the wonderment that she causes in us, makes her inimitable in my view. Happy Philinte, enjoy the sweetest fate with a charming wife who is approved by all, but whose soul is not filled with pride over it. ELISE (smiling): “Unworthy that I am of honors given to me.”34 I am willing to receive them, in order that the glory should fall upon a man with whom I am to share everything. PHILINTE: Allow me to kiss your beautiful hand and to beg you to speed up my good fortune. What a surprising effect of the marvels that I discover in you! I was hardly more than your admirer when I arrived, and at present I am the most enamored of all men! MARIANE: Do not refuse, my dear Elise, the entreaty of a lover who has preferred you to what the whole universe prefers above everything else. I am rich; I am far from ugly; he could have hoped to succeed in courting me. Your reputation alone has caused his decision, and your whole person enchants him. LICIDOR: I join my entreaties to those of your beautiful friend, madam. Pronounce a decree that is so sweet. PHILINTE: I ask you for it on my knees, overly modest Elise; don’t refuse my request to advance the most beautiful day of my life. ELISE: I yield to my friend, to your friend, and to you, Philinte, more than anyone. Henceforth I must wish for nothing more than to be agreeable to you.

34. Quotation from Lully and Quinault’s opera Atys (1676; act 2, scene 4), in Livrets d’opéra. The audience is expected to note the irony. In the opera Atys is indeed unworthy of the honor of high priest bestowed upon him by the goddess Cybèle: she wants him not just to display religious devotion but also to return her love for him, whereas he is secretly in love with his cousin. Elise, on the other hand, who does deserve the praise and honor bestowed on her, displays both her modesty and her love for music.

296 CATHERINE DURAND TENTH PROVERB [Should Parents Leave Their Daughters Unsupervised?] CHARACTERS MADEMOISELLE D’ALRANE CATOS Mlle d’Alrane’s companion COLAS peasant The scene is in a castle. (Enter Mlle d’Alrane and Catos.) MLLE D’ALRANE: Ah, my poor Catos, how bored I feel! How cruel it is for me to spend my most beautiful days in an old country castle, always sad, with no other consolation but the one you give me! My esteemed parents, you will make me do something foolish; but, at least, blame no one but yourselves. Sometimes the temptation comes over me to throw myself out the windows; I go to open one; I behold these big hideous moats full of muddy water; a remnant of love for life makes me return to my armchair, and I start crying again. CATOS: My word, miss, you are not alone in railing against your destiny; I have my sizable share, as you know. It is a matter that cries out for vengeance, that a beautiful young person like you should be reduced, through the odd notions of her parents, to a hermitlike solitude, while young middle-class girls in Paris are enjoying entertainments every day; but after all, one must have patience. Do needlework, miss; that is an activity with which every woman in the country should occupy herself. MLLE D’ALRANE: Me, do needlework, Catos? Wouldn’t you want me to make fancy-work of gold and silk, as in the romances? Still, if I had a knight, I might embroider sashes for him with my own hands, to help him to win some battle. But I don’t have one, and that’s the crowning touch to my boredom. CATOS: Yes, yes indeed. I quite understand that a lover would console you a bit; one hardly gets bored with those kinds of people. And if by some adventure arranged as in fiction, there arrived here a handsome knight who asked you for a meal, and who told you amazing things about his love and his exploits, you might be no more cruel to him than one ought. And yours truly might also get something out of it; for these honorable adventurers rarely go around without squires almost as handsome as they are. But let’s not feed our minds on fancies; the question now is how to dispel your boredom. Keep busy, miss; read, instead of

Proverb Comedies 297 growing sad like this. You have natural intelligence; that will enhance your mental powers considerably. MLLE D’ALRANE: Ah, be quiet, Catos; you’re killing me! Books of piety make me yawn; history books make me sad; and novels would make me go crazy. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing; I would no longer feel this fury that is agitating me. But I admit to you that conversation with the dead cannot compensate me for what I am losing by being deprived of conversation with the living. CATOS: Oh, as for that, you are very much alive. Even your boredom has nothing gloomy about it; it makes you say and think only lively things. So what will we do? Take a walk, miss; the motion of the body awakens the mind. You are always lying down on a big sofa. The loveliest evenings in the world can never attract you into the gardens; there one hears birds, one sees flowers, one smells the breath of the zephyrs, one … MLLE D’ALRANE (interrupting her): My poor Catos, you are plunging into poetic descriptions! If I were silly enough to get out of my laziness, I would find all this beautiful display reduced to seeing one bad tulip, trees laden with caterpillars mingled with the leaves, a well from which water is drawn to sprinkle the herbs of the kitchen garden, some uncouth bird that always fears being approached, and a wind that would spoil my complexion. CATOS: One must admit, miss, that your portrayals win out over mine. But at least, it won’t be said of you that you have cheerful ideas; you are apparently one of those sad painters who never draw anything but horrible things. MLLE D’ALRANE: Ah, how enraged I am, my dear! I don’t know whom to blame. And you are proposing to me only occupations for which I have no taste. CATOS: My word! So what would we possibly find to take you out of so violent a state? MLLE D’ALRANE: Couldn’t you get some wine from the Champagne region? They say that it’s a marvelous resource against boredom. I have never drunk any; but at the moment that I’m speaking to you I would drink as much of it as the most resolute drinker. CATOS: As for good local wine, I would indeed find some for you. But, if you please, you will have to do without that of Champagne; those things are not known in our village. MLLE D’ALRANE: Well, run, Catos; bring ten bottles of it. I wish you were back already! (Catos leaves; Mlle d’Alrane continues [and calls her back].) Catos, how foolish you are! Don’t you know anything that could dispel my boredom? If only some passerby might come along!

298 CATHERINE DURAND CATOS: Bless my soul! What an active brain! Wine and passersby! Oh, my word, miss, I can’t come anywhere near your level in imagining consolations! MLLE D’ALRANE: Ah, the passersby don’t arrive each time one desires them! Go in any case and fetch the wine. (Catos leaves; Mlle d’Alrane calls her back.) Catos, how dim your brain is! If you had been in the position of Prometheus, man would never have been created.35 What’s the name of that tall boy who plays skittles so well? CATOS: Ha ha, Colas. Yes, that tall fellow is quite strapping! Since I am feeling bored just as you are, I have sometimes wanted to test what he was capable of. I have proposed to him that he play skittles with me and let myself lose; but that ninny has never wanted to take the bait. MLLE D’ALRANE: That makes no difference, Catos. He will have respect for the daughter of his lord; he will gather fruits for us, he will pour us drinks, he will serve us in a thousand capacities. Catos, go fetch him; bring him to me. My eyes will always be amused by a man’s face. (Exit Catos.) Behold what the cruelty exercised upon me is reducing me to! Behold what is gained by leaving me alone at my age, in a lack of activity capable of making a person go mad! I will therefore see Colas; that name isn’t noble, but I must have something to do. I have no plan to harm my innocence; but I don’t know what is keeping me back from marrying Colas, to make my parents go wild! The little life that I am going to lead with him, which will appear very questionable, won’t punish them enough. But I see him approaching with Catos. (Enter Catos and Colas.) Approach, Colas, approach. Are you willing to come stay with us in this castle? You will be my manservant; you will help Catos in dressing me. COLAS: Lordy, miss, I don’t know nothing of them there goings-on; but I will soon have larned it, for I will do it gladly.36 MLLE D’ALRANE: Yes, Colas, that’s well and good. And what will become of the skittles? It is said that you play wonderfully well. COLAS: Oh golly gee, I don’t fear nobody. I always win against Pierrot, who is a big rascal and a strapping chap like me; and Pierrot wins against all the boys of the village. But that’s no matter; I will serve you as best as I possibly can, and I will play at some other game with Miss Catos. MLLE D’ALRANE: Oh no, Colas, no, if you please; I want you to give me all your time and all your attention. We will sometimes play together. But don’t you 35. Prometheus, according to classical mythology, created humans and initiated civilization by stealing fire from heaven for them. 36. Colas speaks in the peasant jargon that Molière made famous in several of his comedies; it is based on the grammar, vocabulary, and pronunciation of villagers living in the region surrounding Paris.

Proverb Comedies 299 have some girlfriend? For you see, Colas, I intend that for me you should leave everything. COLAS: Well, you know, that hefty girl Flipote sometimes comes to idle away her time around me; she always has some prank to play on me. Pierrot is just a tad jealous of it, for he really likes her, but so … MLLE D’ALRANE: Yes, Colas, the hefty Flipote? And is this idling girl pretty? COLAS: She’s a snub-nosed girl who’s a lustful wench. If I had loved her the way she loves me, the devil would probably have got hisself involved; but, thank gosh, I’ve resisted it. MLLE D’ALRANE (laughing): So much the better, Colas, so much the better. The devil must not dispose of you over Flipote. But don’t you find me prettier than she is? Look well at me. COLAS (lowering his eyes): Oh golly gee, miss, I ain’t worthy to look at you. MLLE D’ALRANE: I want you to answer me, Colas; raise your eyes. CATOS (to Colas): Hey, answer, you idiot. Provided that Pierrot answers me also, everything will go well; for, frankly, I am in no less sociable a mood than my mistress. MLLE D’ALRANE: I promise you Pierrot, my dear Catos, with feet and hands tied, provided that Colas finds me beautiful. CATOS: Oh, miss, I am not asking for Pierrot tied up; he must, if you please, have his body completely free. So speak, Colas, and make it fast. COLAS (laughing): Tarnation, I is all embarrassed. Miss is beautiful like a little teeny angel, but I wouldn’t hardly dare look at her. I won’t always be such a ninny, no, Catos; when she has broke me in somewhat, she’ll see, she’ll see. MLLE D’ALRANE: How’s that? Colas has an alert mind! That’s the way I want him. Let him go fetch Pierrot, and let’s sit down to eat at once; a bit of wine inspires liberty. Ah, Catos, I am beginning to get over my boredom! I know that this manner of living will find harsh critics; but what do I care? One must go back to the source and lay the blame on those people who are reducing me to this extremity.

ANSWERS [the proverbs illustrated by the playlets] 1. Like master, like man. 2. Tit for tat. 3. You can’t judge a book by its cover. 4. He who runs after two hares gets none.

300 CATHERINE DURAND 5. For one pleasure, a thousand pains. 6. There are no beautiful prisons or ugly beloveds. 7. One day follows another, but they are not all alike. 8. Washing a donkey’s head is a waste of soap. 9. A good reputation is worth more than a belt of gold. 10. Idleness is the mother of all vices.

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Index Croy, Dorothée de, 3

Abstemius, 289n32 Anne of Austria, 12, 106 Argenson, René-Louis de Voyer, Marquis d’, 171 Aristotle, 10 Aubignac, François Hédelin, Abbé d’, 5, 102, 111, 166 Augustine, St., 13

Dancourt, Florent, 242 Deshoulières, Antoinette Du Ligier de la Garde, 4, 12, 165–76, 167, 177n9, 179–80n12, 185n16, 195n23 Deshoulières, Antoinette-Thérèse, 165–167 Des Roches, Catherine, 3 Donneau de Visé, Jean, 29, 31, 102, 112 Du Boccage, Anne-Marie, 13 Dufresny, Charles Rivière, 242 Durand, Catherine, 7, 17, 19, 237–45

Balzac, Jean-Louis Guez de, 115n17 Barbier, Marie-Anne, 1n2, 5, 12, 13 Barbin, Claude, 102, 103, 104, 166, 238 Baro, Balthasar, 174, 175, 178n11, 179n12, 195nn22–23 Baron, Michel, 175 Beaumarchais, Pierre Caron de, 241 Benserade, Isaac de, 21, 26, 239 Bernard, Catherine, 1n2, 8, 12, 14, 107 Boileau, Nicolas, 167, 168 Bossuet, Jacques-Bénigne, 150n46 Boursault, Edme, 5 Boyer, Claude, 31 Brossette, Claude, 167

Elizabeth I of England, 26 Faustini, Giovanni, 26 French Academy, 10, 114n15, 167, 168, 237, 242 Fulgentius, 23 Genlis, Stéphanie-Félicité de, 241 Gilbert, Gabriel, 22, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33 Gombauld, Jean-Ogier de, 24–26, 34, 35, 47, 61n31, 64n32, 70n35, 94n39, 96n40, 99n43 Gomez, Madeleine-Angélique Poisson de, 13 Graffigny, Françoise d’Issembourg d’Happoncourt de, 1n2 Guilleragues, Gabriel-Joseph de Lavergne, Count de, 21

Caesar, Julius, 267n19 Carmontelle, Louis Carrogis de, 240, 241 Cavalli, Francesco, 26 Chambors, Guillaume de la Boissière, Count de, 165n1, 175 Charles II of England, 17 Charpentier, François, 168 Charpentier, Marc-Antoine, 30n7 Cochard, Marie, 102 Collé, Charles, 241 Comédie-Française, 7, 168, 175, 241 Condé, Louis II, Prince de, 165 Corneille, Pierre, 5, 9, 11, 13n17, 14, 30, 31, 50n23, 102, 105, 107, 111, 112, 154n49, 167–72, 174, 176, 196n24 Corneille, Thomas, 13, 30, 31, 33, 105, 152n47, 168

Herodotus, 109, 110, 111n10, 113n14, 118nn19–20, 119n22, 120n23, 121nn24–27, 122n28, 124n30, 127n35, 130n37, 135n40, 147n45, 152n48, 161n55, 163n56 Hôtel de Bourgogne, Théâtre de l’, 22, 30, 33, 102, 111, 175 Labé, Louise, 3 La Calprenède, Gauthier de, 167 307

308 Index La Chaussée, Pierre-Claude Nivelle de, 241 Lafayette, Marie-Madeleine Pioche de la Vergne, Countess de, 1, 107, 257n16 La Fontaine, Jean de, 168, 289n32 La Guerre, Elisabeth Jacquet de, 9 La Morelle, 26 La Roche-Guilhen, Anne de, 1n2, 18 Lionne, Hugues de, 103 Longchamp, Mlle, 15 Loret, Jean, 111 Louis XIII, 24 Louis XIV, 7, 12, 104n5, 108, 165, 168, 237, 241 Lucian, 23 Lully, Jean-Baptiste, 32, 102, 168, 275n22, 281n25, 295n34 Lyly, John, 26 Maintenon, Françoise d’Aubigné, Marquise de, 240 Marais, Théâtre du, 32, 33 Marguerite de Navarre, 2, 3 Marie de France, 21 Mazarin, Jules, Cardinal de, 26, 31 Medici, Maria de’, 12, 24, 106 Molière, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin de, 7, 31, 32, 39n15, 101–03, 242, 262n17, 287n30, 293n33, 298n36 Montalvo, Garci Rodríguez de, 246n8 Montesson, Charlotte-Jeanne Béraud de La Haye de Riou, Marquise de, 240 Montluc, Adrien de, 239 Morangis, Philiberte d’Amoncourt de, 101 Murat, Henriette-Julie de Castelnau, Countess de, 17, 238–40, 245, 269n20 Musset, Alfred de, 241 Parfaict, François and Claude, 171 Parthenay, Catherine de, 3

Pascal, Françoise, 1n2, 7, 9, 16, 19, 21–36, 37–39, 43n19, 47n21, 50n23, 52n26, 91n37, 99n43 Perrault, Charles, 168 Plato, 287n29 Plutarch, 267n19 Pradon, Jacques, 167 Procopius, 172, 173, 178n11, 189n18, 199n27, 217n35 Quinault, Philippe, 30–32, 168, 275n22, 281n25, 295n34 Quinet, Gabriel, 102 Racine, Jean, 4, 9, 13n17, 14, 30, 105, 111, 163n56, 167–72, 174, 176, 185n15 Regnard, Jean-François, 242 Richelieu, Armand-Jean du Plessis, Cardinal de, 3, 11, 104n5 Rohan-Montbazon, Duchess de, 101 Sainctonge, Louise-Geneviève de, 9, 17 Saint-Aignan, François de Beauvilliers, Duke de, 112, 114 Scudéry, Georges de, 175n7 Scudéry, Madeleine de, 105n5, 111, 165 Sévigné, Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, Marquise de, 165 Sorel, Charles, 239, 240 Tallemant des Réaux, Gédéon, 111 Ulrich, Mme, 8, 16 Urfé, Honoré d’, 174 Vertron, Claude-Charles Guyonnet de, 22 Villedieu, Antoine de Boësset de, 103, 104, 111 Villedieu, Mme de (Marie-Catherine Desjardins), 1n2, 7, 10, 12–14, 19, 101–12, 113nn11–13, 120n23, 124n30, 156n51, 159n53, 185n16 Villeroy, Nicolas de Neufville, Duke de, 21, 22, 32, 38 Voiture, Vincent, 115n17