Cheri-Bibi: The Stage Play

by Gaston Leroux

  MARQUIS: Here she is. Now is the time.

  BOURRELIER: You’re in such a hurry!

  MARQUIS: Isn’t it better to get it settled?

  BOURRELIER: Cécily, what happened to Madame la Marquise?

  CÉCILY: I’ve come back to collect her scarf.

  MARQUIS: My son could have spared you that task, my dear.

  CÉCILY: Maxime went to telephone his friend, Monsieur de Pont-Marie.

  BOURRELIER: I want to talk to you, child.

  CÉCILY: But the Marquise is waiting for her scarf.

  MARQUIS: I’ll take care of it.

  (He finds the scarf and leaves.)

  BOURRELIER: My child, I have to inform you of a marriage proposal that I have just received on your behalf, and which I must answer promptly.

  CÉCILY: Is it from Maxime du Touchais?

  BOURRELIER: Yes.

  CÉCILY: I refuse!

  BOURRELIER: Now, Cécily, you’re no longer a child, so no caprices. Maxime is a very advantageous match. I beg you to consider his proposal seriously because it deserves attention.

  CÉCILY: Father, I told you already: I refuse.

  BOURRELIER: At least, give me a reason why.

  CÉCILY: It’s very simple. My heart’s already taken.

  BOURRELIER: What! You love someone and you never told me! You know that I’m the best and the weakest of fathers. I would have no prejudices against anyone you’d select. I just want to know who he is.

  CÉCILY: It’s my cousin, Marcel Garavan.

  BOURRELIER: (stupefied) Marcel Garavan! But he works for me!

  CÉCILY: So what? I don’t see that as a dishonor!

  BOURRELIER: You must be joking!

  CÉCILY: Not at all! If I can’t marry him, I won’t marry anyone else.

  BOURRELIER: So I would have worked hard to build my fortune just to give my daughter, my sole heir, to one of my salesmen–to a Garavan!

  CÉCILY: He’s your sister’s son.

  BOURRELIER: All the more reason! When one doesn’t go up in the world, one is going down. I could make you a Marquise, and you tell me that you prefer to become Madame Garavan. It’s laughable.

  CÉCILY: I don’t think so! Far from the multitude of suitors who are attracted to me like flies to honey, I have discovered the one man who, terrified by your millions, would be content to live in my shadow and love me in silence, without daring to raise his eyes to me. I know the exquisite sensation of being loved for myself alone, without inappropriate calculations of interest, and you want me to relinquish this happiness? Absolutely not, father! Marcel Garavan is a straight, honest and simple heart, who, at least, knew how to not engage in promiscuous liaisons. Instead, who is the husband you are offering me? A tired nobleman who would bring, along with the deficiencies of his ancestors, those that are the result of his life of debauchery and sloth.

  BOURRELIER: It was never my intention to impose Maxime du Touchais on you, but as regards your cousin, never, you hear me! Never will I consent to it! And to cut this ridiculous idyll short, I will order him to leave on my first steamer.

  CÉCILY: Your action will be quite useless, because when you love the way Marcel and I love each other, distance doesn’t matter.

  BOURRELIER: We’ll see about that!

  (Seeing the Marquis, his wife and Maxime entering from the left, Bourrelier heads towards them.)

  BOURRELIER: We are going to take our leave after all, Marquis. I sincerely apologize, but time is passing and I can’t take a chance on missing my meeting in Dieppe.

  MARQUISE: In that case, please leave Cécily with us, my dear Bourrelier–if she won’t be too bored. It’s still early, and you could come and get her when you return.

  BOURRELIER: If my daughter consents, why not?

  MARQUIS: (aside to Bourrelier) Well? What is the result of your conversation?

  BOURRELIER: (aside to the Marquis) My daughter is a child who won’t be pushed; leave it to me; things will go better that way. (to the Marquise) My respects, Madame la Marquise. I’ll take the train; I’ll arrive faster.

  MARQUIS: Are you leaving on foot, my dear friend?

  BOURRELIER: After such a fine dinner, the walk will do me good. Dieppe is not so far from Puys. I’ll take the cliff-side road.

  (Bourrelier leaves.)

  MARQUISE: (to Cécily) If you’d like, Cécily, we could wait in the salon. (calling) Reine!

  (Reine, a lady companion of about fifty, appears on the terrace)

  MARQUISE: Would you set the gaming table?

  REINE: Of course, Madame.

  (She goes into the chateau by one of the French doors.)

  MARQUISE: I am going to beat you at cards, my little friend. It’s an old lady’s privilege. You get better at cards as your hair gets whiter.

  (The Marquise and Cécily climb the stairs and leave by one of the French doors. Maxime is about to follow them.)

  MARQUIS: (to Maxime.) One moment, Maxime.

  (Maxime turns toward his father.)

  MARQUIS: You seem to be forcing yourself to be in a good mood today. What’s bothering you?

  MAXIME: Nothing, father. I’m waiting for George, that’s all.

  MARQUIS: You and your friend George de Pont-Marie are most likely blundering badly into some kind of shady business, I suspect.

  MAXIME: No, not at all, father, I assure you.

  MARQUIS: Whatever may be the case, I advise you, in your own interest, to watch your conduct. At the moment, I am focusing all my efforts to make you an acceptable fiancé for Cécily Bourrelier, but, I beg you, do take a little care of your reputation–it is deplorable.

  MAXIME: I understand, father. If you see me so preoccupied, it’s because I absolutely need a sum of money–oh! a mere trifle–200 francs. Could you loan them to me?

  MARQUIS: I don’t have it.

  MAXIME: But only this morning, you received several rents?

  MARQUIS: And tomorrow, I have many bills due, which makes it completely impossible for me to spare a centime. No use insisting. When I can do it, I do it, but today, I cannot.

  (The Marquis leaves by the terrace. At this moment, George de Pont-Marie enters wearing a grey colored felt hat.)

  MAXIME: (going quickly to de Pont-Marie) Did you succeed?

  PONT-MARIE: No. That’s why I’m so late. No one wants to lend us any money any more. Did you ask your father?

  MAXIME: He’s obstinately refusing, under the pretence that he needs his money to pay his bills.

  PONT-MARIE: What to do? In your set, you see no one else? (a pause) What about Bourrelier, rumored to be your future father-in-law?

  MAXIME: He won’t advance me a sou.

  PONT-MARIE: How do you know?

  MAXIME: I’m sure of it. He doesn’t like me.

  PONT-MARIE: You can still try...

  MAXIME: Time’s wasting! If I don’t pay tomorrow, I’ll be banned from the club.

  PONT-MARIE: What about me? I might be prosecuted for fraud. Go on, let’s ask him! Let’s go to his villa. If you like, I’ll come with you.

  MAXIME: He dined here and just left for Dieppe, but he’s got to return to collect his daughter.

  PONT-MARIE: Let’s meet him on the way then.

  MAXIME: He went on foot, on the cliff-side road. He’ll certainly return the same way...

  PONT-MARIE: (edgy) You’re sure of that?

  MAXIME: Why?

  PONT-MARIE: (after a pause) For no reason. (abruptly) Let’s not waste ant more time. We must have the money this evening, no matter what it takes. Come on, let’s go.

  (They leave hurriedly by the side. A moment passes, then Chéri-Bibi enters from the side. He is dressed very simply. He looks around, then heads rapidly toward the kitchen window and calls.)

  CHÉRI-BIBI: Hey! La Ficelle! It is I, Chéri-Bibi!

  LA FICELLE: (inside) Wait–I’m coming!

  (La Ficelle appears, dressed as a scullery boy, first in the window frame, then enters.)

  LA FICELLE: I’m happ
y to see you. (shaking Chéri-Bibi’s hand) Your shift is already over?

  CHÉRI-BIBI: No, but I left the shop anyway. Tomorrow, I’m going away. I asked the boss for a day off to accompany Jacqueline to the convent. You know that my poor little sister is taking the veil?

  LA FICELLE: Ah, yes. After what happened with Bourrelier...

  CHÉRI-BIBI: That wretch! To attack a poor defenseless child like that... Ruin her honor... But Jacqueline was determined to see Mademoiselle Cécily one last time before taking the veil. It’s not the daughter’s fault, after all, if the father is a scumbag. But, as I didn’t want my sister going to the villa, on account of Bourrelier, and as I learned in the village that they were dining here tonight, I brought Jacqueline here. She’s waiting at the gamekeeper’s house.

  LA FICELLE: And also, admit it, you’ll be pleased to see Mademoiselle Cécily.

  CHÉRI-BIBI: Yes, La Ficelle, it causes me great joy and great pain at the same time. You recall that, when we were kids, we all played together. She wasn’t Mademoiselle Bourrelier then. There was no difference between us; she was just a kid, like us. Seeing her every day, I began to love her a little. But the years went by, and as they did, the barrier that separated us became unbreakable. Alas, the heart don’t accommodate itself of social differences. I haven’t stopped loving her, but because she is now very rich, it’s without hope. Still, I love her, La Ficelle, and I’m really miserable.

  LA FICELLE: Look, Chéri-Bibi, you’re not being reasonable. You know that a love like that is impossible. Where will it lead you?

  CHÉRI-BIBI: I’m not even thinking of that; it’s of her alone that I think.

  LA FICELLE: Poor Chéri-Bibi! And as for me, I’d like to see you happy! I would give up my life to guarantee your happiness, as you risked yours to save me that day on the beach when the riptide was carrying me away.

  CHÉRI-BIBI: I’d have done better to die myself that day; at least, I wouldn’t have to endure all the tortures that are tearing me apart now. And the one I adore would have to be the daughter of the man who seduced my poor Jacqueline. Ah! Misfortune!

  (Cécily appears on the terrace in the moonlight seemingly looking for someone.)

  CHÉRI-BIBI: Here she is! (he remains ecstatic.)

  LA FICELLE: (to Chéri-Bibi) Go and speak to her!

  CHÉRI-BIBI: No. Let me stay in the shadows. That’s the story of my love, you see.

  LA FICELLE: My word, you’re terrible at this! (calling softly) Mademoiselle Cécily!

  CÉCILY: Is that you, La Ficelle? You haven’t seen my father return?

  LA FICELLE: No, Mademoiselle. But there’s someone here who’s like to speak to you. Jean Mascart, you remember him? Chéri-Bibi?

  CÉCILY: I’m coming down.

  (She rapidly descends the stairway.)

  CÉCILY: Good evening, Jean.

  CHÉRI-BIBI: (hardly able to open his mouth) Good evening, Mademoiselle Cécily.

  CÉCILY: (offering her hand) Why, you aren’t offering me your hand!

  CHÉRI-BIBI: (very embarrassed) I don’t dare (taking her hand, still embarrassed) My sister Jacqueline is here. She would be happy to see you, because, tomorrow, you know, she’s going to join the nuns of Saint Vincent de Paul.

  CÉCILY: I plan to be there at the ceremony when she takes the veil. But I’d be delighted to see her this evening.

  CHÉRI-BIBI: In that case, I’ll go and get her.

  (Chéri-Bibi leaves by the side.)

  CÉCILY: (to La Ficelle) I’m surprised that my father hasn’t returned yet. Would you be kind enough to go and look for him at the entrance of the park?

  LA FICELLE: My pleasure, Mademoiselle Cécily!

  (He leaves. Then, Jacqueline enters, escorted by Chéri-Bibi.)

  CÉCILY: My little Jacqueline! (they embrace)

  CHÉRI-BIBI: I’ll wait for you here, little sister.

  CÉCILY: Don’t bother. Since my father is late, I’ll go into the villa with Jacqueline. Reine will accompany us. Then, I’ll send Jacqueline home.

  CHÉRI-BIBI: (with regret) I see. So I’ll be going then... (bowing to Cécily) Mademoiselle.

  (He leaves.)

  CÉCILY: So, Jacqueline, your decision is irrevocable?

  JACQUELINE: Yes, Mademoiselle. Tomorrow, I will be a nun.

  CÉCILY: You were my tutor; you were bright and happy. Then, there were these few weeks when you left our house under the pretext of health. And when you returned, you said you planned to enter a convent. Your vocation came to you so suddenly?

  JACQUELINE: Er, yes. Circumstances caused it to develop spontaneously.

  CÉCILY: You are really going to say good-bye to the world?

  JACQUELINE: Without any regrets. The ugliness I’ve suffered was enough to separate me from it forever.

  CÉCILY: It takes courage to leave it.

  JACQUELINE: It takes an even greater deal of courage to stay in it. I’m not complaining, Mademoiselle Cécily. Instead of sadness, I will find peace and rest. I will raise children, I will care for the sick, and the days of my life will shine like the beads of a rosary.

  CÉCILY: You were like a sister to me, Jacqueline, kiss me.

  (Reine appears on the terrace and comes down the stairs.)

  REINE: You forgot your cloak, Mademoiselle Cécily. It’s cold tonight.

  (She gives Cécily a cloak with a Capuchin’s hood.)

  CÉCILY: Jacqueline is with me. Will you take her home later?

  REINE: Of course!

  CÉCILY: (to Jacqueline) Then, come, Jacqueline. I want you to remember forever the last night you spent in the world with me.

  (Cécily and Jacqueline leave, followed by Reine. A moment passes, then de Pont-Marie is seen entering furtively by the rear. He makes sure he cannot be seen, then furtively climbs the stairway and goes into the chateau by one of the French doors. Unseen by him, Chéri-Bibi has spotted him and follows him inside. Soon thereafter, we hear a violent brouhaha and Costaud enters, followed by several police officers and peasants carrying torches.)

  COSTAUD: (to a servant) Inform Monsieur le Marquis du Touchais that Sergeant Costaud from the Dieppe Police wishes to speak to him immediately.

  (As the servant starts up the stairway shouting and calling, Maxime enters suddenly by one of the French doors, holding Chéri-Bibi by the collar.)

  MAXIME: Help! I’ve just found my father struck dead in his office next to his safe. (a pause.) It can only be the work of this wretch! (pointing to Chéri-Bibi)

  COSTAUD: What a terrible development! And I had just come to inform Monsieur le Marquis that Monsieur Bourrelier has just been found murdered on the cliffs

  (Chéri-Bibi remains speechless.)

  COSTAUD: (to Chéri-Bibi) Answer my questions. What were you doing at the chateau at this hour?

  CHÉRI-BIBI: I am innocent!

  COSTAUD: Answer!

  CHERI BIBI: (gripped by a violent emotion) I was returning to Dieppe by the cliff-side road when I saw two men fighting. One of them might have been Monsieur Bourrelier. I couldn’t distinguish the features of the other man, because his face was hidden by a grey hat. Suddenly, Monsieur Bourrelier was pushed violently and fell off the edge of the cliff. The man in the grey hat fled. I followed him. He entered the chateau, I entered after him. Then, I found myself in complete darkness. Suddenly (pointing to Maxime), Monsieur Maxime sprang up and grabbed me. That’s the whole truth, I swear!

  COSTAUD: So the author of these two crimes would be a man in a grey hat! What kind of fancy story is this? (to the policemen) Officers, search the house, just in case.

  (Two officers enter the chateau.)

  COSTAUD: (to Chéri-Bibi) No doubt, the judge will appreciate your effort of imagination, but it would be much simpler to confess. The first crime, at least, is marvelously clear. It is public notoriety that Monsieur Bourrelier had abused your sister Jacqueline. Revenge would, therefore, be the motive...

  CHÉRI-BIBI: But, Sergeant, I swear to you that I’m innocent! The idea that
you could mistake me for a murderer is driving me mad.

  (The two officers return.)

  POLICE OFFICER: We didn’t find anyone, Sergeant.

  COSTAUD: I expected that. Officers, place Jean Mascart, alias Chéri-Bibi, under arrest.