by Jean Cocteau
HANS. What we desire we must take by force.
CHRISTINE. If I am not mistaken, you wish to take me by force.
HANS. You are very intelligent. Everything in this house is mine.
CHRISTINE. You are mad.
HANS. Be mad, too!
CHRISTINE. I am going mad with anger.
HANS. That is not enough. Your anger must turn to madness.
He takes her in his arms while she struggles to get free.
CHRISTINE. I am going to scream.
HANS. It’s not a case of “going to scream.” … Scream!
She screams as she fights for freedom.
Scream. Scream! The ice is smoking and blood is rushing through your veins. Your nails tear. At last something’s happening to you.
CHRISTINE. I shall raise the town against you.
HANS. Raise it. The people like nothing better than trouble.
CHRISTINE. If they like trouble, let it be yours; let them burn you.
HANS, laughing. That’s happened. I am burning… I am burning. …
CHRISTINE. Take your mouth away. I shall bite off your tongue.
HANS. What a woman!… or nearly …
CHRISTINE, with fists pounding his chest. You beast!
HANS. So she bites and scratches and spits. Bang away! Struggle! Shriek! Wake up the sleeping town.
The door at the back opens, and the Archers appear, alarmed by the noise.
Stop!
He pushes Christine toward the Archers who close the door and bar her way.
Enough of this game. My men must think I am being murdered.
To the Archers.
It is true, gentlemen. I am being murdered. Here is my murderer but don’t hurt her.
The Archers surround Christine.
She is so weak. A weak, a very weak, young girl. Take her to my room. Keep close watch over her. Don’t let her call from the window for help. Weak people are uncommonly strong. Here’s proof of it, on my face and on my hands.
Enter Lothar from the back of the stage. He walks through the group of Archers.
LOTHAR, to Christine. Christine, what is happening?
CHRISTINE. That creature has now made me a prisoner, after insulting me and preventing me from going out. I suppose you won’t lift a finger to protect me.
LOTHAR. He is master here.
CHRISTINE. That’s what I thought. Your presence is as hateful as his. Let’s go upstairs, gentlemen. Lock me up out of sight of these two despicable creatures.
The Archers lead Christine to the low door and open it.
HANS. You won’t be long alone.
CHRISTINE, quietly. I hate you.
She goes out, framed by the Archers. The door closes behind them.
LOTHAR. What’s been going on with Christine?
HANS. Nothing. I love her. Greek gods don’t waste time.
LOTHAR. Hans! It’s not possible …
HANS. She is safer in my arms than in a town where they might look on her as an accomplice in a murder for which I am not even responsible.
LOTHAR. Are you serious? You love Christine?
HANS. Since the day I saw her on horseback, red with shame because her friends were mocking me. It was probably that instant more than the manhunt which made me lose my wits. When she came to fetch me at the farm, I nearly gave myself away, forgetting my role, I nearly made an idiot of myself… for good. I am going up to her … there’ll be a fight…
LOTHAR. I am warning you; Christine is like Ulrich. She is capable of anything.
HANS. That’s what I’m counting on.
LOTHAR. I think that’s my father coming back. I shall tell him everything.
HANS. You are quite free. Everybody’s free. Everybody.
He goes out by the low door. Lothar runs after him, but changes his mind, as he hears the Duke coming in by the big door.
DUKE. Lothar, where is your sister? Call her. I have something to say to her.
LOTHAR. Christine has gone out.
DUKE. Gone out? Where has she gone?
LOTHAR. She must have gone somewhere where she was not in danger of meeting Hans whom she detests because he got the better of her. She is wrong in hating him, as he is the only person who can protect her against the town. They are looking at her and at us in a very ugly way.
DUKE. I am very anxious indeed. Christine is in danger, I am sure of it. Something tells me so. Where is Hans?
LOTHAR. Hans? In the barrack square; I believe he is arranging an archery tournament. I hope to win a medal. I am a very good shot.
DUKE. There’s a curse on this masquerade. It is all being spoiled. Your Hans amuses the mob and that is what causes misunderstanding. The street is not the town. The townsfolk seem to think Christine responsible for street disorders. The Syndic and the Provost have spread the rumor that she knew the truth about the young man and that some intrigue is afoot. I should not have lent myself to a young girl’s folly.
LOTHAR. Do you dislike Hans?
DUKE. I neither like nor dislike him. He is my guest.
LOTHAR. You’re wrong. He is your host. What’s more, they take you for his accomplice. You should have given the place over to him from the very first: left the house to him. In other words, you should have done things strictly according to the rules of the game. But I love and admire you because you always do what is not done.
DUKE. You are wrong, Lothar. I live behind a mask. Living in society makes it necessary for us to do so.
LOTHAR. It is not necessary to wear a mask. That is what Hans has taught me. He is like you. He always does what is not done, but he wears no mask. His face is bare. It is beautiful.
DUKE. If you think we are alike in our clumsy ways, you are probably right, yet you are nevertheless wrong. I cannot drop the mask and leave my face bare.
LOTHAR. I should like this adventure with Hans to force you to drop your mask.
DUKE. That is, alas, impossible.
LOTHAR. It would be possible if things got so bad that we had to leave everything. Now, I’ve got that out.
DUKE. You are dreaming.
LOTHAR. Yes! I am dreaming of a wilderness where no masks would be worn, a refuge from this city of masks. Where, for instance … Christine would be married to Hans.
DUKE. Are you going out of your mind?
LOTHAR. Christine cannot marry one of the human monsters who surround us here.
DUKE. Do you realize where this young man comes from.
LOTHAB. Never mind. He is noble.
DUKE. I do not deny it. In his own way he is. But he has become a scandal and it is almost our fault; Lothar, understand that they are trying to incriminate your sister in such dangerous actions that I cannot be sure of the places she depends on for shelter.
Listening.
Did you not hear something?
LOTHAR. No.
DUKE. I thought I heard screaming in the house.
LOTHAR. Your nerves are on edge. If you wish we can go and look for Christine.
DUKE. She wanted to be of some use to me. It is not her fault, she is like your poor brother, not responsible for the ideas which come into her head. The responsibility is mine.
He leads Lothar to the door at the back of the stage.
LOTHAR, on the step. You remember the law of the sea.
“The Captain is not held responsible for acts of God.”
As he goes out, the Duke stops and raises his head.
DUKE. This time I am sure I heard something.
LOTHAR. There are archers in the hall where Hans has his rooms and they are drinking. I am astonished that one does not hear more of them.
DUKE. Listen — someone screamed.
LOTHAR. It’s in the street.
They go out.
CURTAIN
ACT THREE
The Cardinal, the Bishop, the Duke, the Provost Marshal, and the Syndic are in council.
Long silence. The Provost Marshal walks up and down, then comes to a stop in front of
the Duke.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Well, my lord Duke, if everyone insists on treating this bad joke as a miniature reign, then surely the temporary king’s greatest mistake was when he disbanded the funeral procession of his own victim. We can pass over all his other blunders. At last the people understand that as the immediate result of the relief which he proclaimed, we were obliged to double the taxes to make up for the deficit and restore the balance. So, from one Sunday to the next our Bacchus has made himself hated by all, even by those who were willing to believe in him.
Silence.
CARDINAL. Can you see any way in which we can prevent this masquerade from ending in tragedy?
PROVOST MARSHAL. If the Cardinal were not in this house, it would be taken by storm and I should be helpless. That is where we have got to — a state of siege.
DUKE. What I cannot understand is that the Square should be empty and everything so silent.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Silent! It’s more than silence, my lord Duke. Listen to it. It’s the deuce of a queer silence, like a hunt ready to spring on its quarry.
BISHOP. How many men have they?
PROVOST MARSHAL. All the young people, middle-class and noble, and quite a lot of armed volunteers from the lower orders. They’ve got hold of the arms we give out to defend the town from the peasant.
DUKE, at the window. There is no one to be seen.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Once again: it is only respect for His Eminence and for the Cathedral precincts that pulls the wool over our eyes. They do not show themselves. This makes matters worse. They are all in the nearby streets. In their homes, families are sitting silently looking at the hands of the clock. They are waiting.
CARDINAL. Waiting for that exquisite moment when vengeance can be taken without risk.
SYNDIC. Man is like that, Your Eminence. What can we do about it?
CARDINAL. And the garrison?
PROVOST MARSHAL. It is powerless against a state of siege. Powerless first of all because in this dirty business they have gone soft. They don’t like people making a fool of me.
DUKE, to Syndic. Have you spoken to your colleagues?
SYNDIC. What do you want me to say to them? They would shout me down. The liquidation of this charming incident has to be reckoned in cut losses and bad jokes.
DUKE. It is terrible.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Yes, it is terrible. In that empty Square there is a stake which has not built itself. Men worked at it all night. Even the meanest men run to it with pieces of wood they have hoarded for their winter fires.
DUKE. But the stake is part of the masquerade. An effigy of Bacchus is to be burned there.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Just try to stop them burning the man himself!
CARDINAL. Do you think they might even do that?
BISHOP. It would be against all our laws. Only the Ecclesiastical Tribunal can assume so grave a responsibility.
PROVOST MARSHAL. You make me laugh. How can you prevent such things from being done without the jurisdiction of the Ecclesiastical Tribunal? You can threaten. You can excommunicate. It won’t stop anything.
DUKE. You said yourself that the presence of Cardinal Zampi kept the rising in check.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Until the hands of the clock meet at twelve, his presence may protect you. After that I can answer for nothing and I even advise your Eminence not to expose yourself to the insults of the mob. It might end with worse; we might find ourselves saddled with a sorry mess.
DUKE. If what you say is true, Provost, it’s out of the question to let this young man be burned without doing everything we can to save him.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Of course; I’m all for it. I represent law and order, and to burn disorder is not to restore order; quite the contrary, in fact. But what can I do against a whole town with nerves strung up to breaking point.
CARDINAL. Supposing I were to address —
PROVOST MARSHAL. They would think that Your Eminence was protecting a man who belongs to the Church.
CARDINAL. That is not the case. His tragedy is that he belongs to no one.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Then he’s a fool. The mob will get rid of him in its own way, which is not ours but which has always been theirs. What do you think I could do?
DUKE. Could he escape?
PROVOST MARSHAL. Try it! They hold all roads. There is not a chink left to let him out.
CARDINAL. What about the Cathedral? It gives the right of sanctuary.
BISHOP. They have thought of that too. The guilds are in it. The Cathedral porch may look empty, but only in front, not behind.
CARDINAL. My dear Bishop, our tribunals have not condemned this man and the rules of this masquerade do not allow them to proceed against him. Our humanity alone can speak. Since we do not condemn, we must save. A solution must be found at once.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Find it. I can find none.
CARDINAL. Are you acting in good faith, Provost Marshal?
PROVOST MARSHAL, screaming. Me!
DUKE. Cardinal Zampi means that you are not exactly fond of this Bacchus and that perhaps it would not distress you if you saw things go wrong.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Well! Of all the …
SYNDIC. As for me, I have attempted what proved impossible. But I wash my hands of my failure in front of my colleagues. Let the crowd burn your young man, it’s all the same to me.
DUKE, to Provost Marshal. Can’t you be frank too?
PROVOST MARSHAL. I am not in the same position. I can see why this clash puts the Syndic neither up nor down. But I am responsible for law and order, and if things go wrong I have to answer for what happens. I don’t like it at all.
CARDINAL. That being so …
PROVOST MARSHAL. That being so, if Your Eminence has some idea, will you tell me about it, and I shall do as you say.
CARDINAL. I shall give it thought, but, alas, there is now but little time. I must talk it over with the Duke and the Bishop. I wonder, gentlemen, whether you would go into the town and try to make one last effort.
PROVOST MARSHAL. If I tried any such thing at the moment, I should be finished off and then I should be of no further use to anybody.
SYNDIC. I shall go to the Cathedral and have a word with the merchants.
PROVOST MARSHAL. Be careful; as soon as they get themselves up in arms and armor, they are worse than my soldiers.
SYNDIC. I know … I know …
PROVOST MARSHAL, bowing. I shall leave you, gentlemen.
To Syndic.
Come. We shall return in order to defend Your Eminence as soon as events dictate.
They go out.
BISHOP. How charming!…
CARDINAL. I was not at all anxious that these gentlemen should be present at our discussions. They do not greatly appeal to me.
DUKE. Nor to me.
BISHOP. They have one excuse. They have to defend their jobs.
CARDINAL. I have an idea …
DUKE. What is it, Your Eminence?
CARDINAL. Recantation …
BISHOP. Recantation of what? The young man does not belong to any religion.
CARDINAL. I beg your pardon, he is Catholic.
BISHOP. Surely a Catholic does not ride on horseback into a church. His sacrilegious heresy has disgusted the whole town.
CARDINAL. I shall be responsible. I am speaking of a denial, but the word recantation will strike home better. Nothing would be easier than to say that he was an agent of the Reformation and that he is returning to the bosom of the Church.
DUKE. My lord! That would be a lie….
CARDINAL. My lord Duke, are you by any chance afraid of reprisals by the Reformers?
DUKE. Not in the least. But I dislike lies.
BISHOP. There are such things as pious lies.
DUKE. Couldn’t you say to simplify things that he was a Catholic agent of the Church who had gone beyond the terms of his commission and that he now confesses as much?
CARDINAL. My lord Duke! To make His Holiness responsible for a lie —
DUKE. Did you not say that a lie? …
CARDINAL. Let us understand one another. We can have nothing to do with those who call the Papal Sovereign “The Scarlet Woman and Antichrist.”
The Bishop makes the sign of the Cross.
DUKE. Quite so. But I dislike the method. One dislikes using weapons used by the enemy.
CARDINAL. Do you see another way out?
DUKE. Exorcism — He could be declared possessed of the devil and publicly exorcised.
CARDINAL. Only those who are possessed can be exorcised.
BISHOP. And isn’t he?
CARDINAL. I do not think so. Neither God nor the devil commands his soul. I should be glad to give it back to God and for our little brother to make his peace with the Church.
DUKE. Wouldn’t it be possible simply to accuse Hans of heresy and free him from the taint of recantation?
CARDINAL. Recantation does not preclude punishment and I should not care to encroach upon secular jurisdiction under which our young man does not come. All that I can do is to stretch my powers a little and call a denial a recantation. But I need a plea.
DUKE. I am afraid this ruse will deceive no one and that they will pursue him later wherever he goes.
CARDINAL. Naturally; that would be too simple. Things will not stop there. If I announce a recantation I must take advantage of the moment of surprise, of truce, to remove our young man to a monastery where we shall shut him up until people calm down and events resume a normal course.
DUKE. Do you mean him to take the cloth?
CARDINAL. I am speaking extempore. We shall protect him. Then we’ll see what we can do.
DUKE. He will never agree to what you propose.
CARDINAL. People say that they want to be burned. They say so. But faced with actual flames they think differently.
DUKE. He will be obstinate.
CARDINAL. There is one person who might convince him.
DUKE. Who?
CARDINAL. Your daughter.
DUKE. Christine!
CARDINAL. This young madman has made a great impression on both your son and daughter. Has not your daughter’s attitude quite changed from what it was on the day of the masquerade?
DUKE. That’s true. I put it down to the horror Christine had of injustice. On the first day this false idiot hurt her feelings. She could not bear his success. She is drawn to those who are failures.
