Chapter 3

Widow I tremble with fear that he suspects me. Perhaps, in my mourning, I innocently called on Desmond.

Lucy Innocently, of course. But now virtue and propriety insist, that in the batting of an eye, change your love into esteem. And, if your husband should eventually die, you may, in another bat of an eye, change your esteem into love.

Widow Your advice is so wise. I will follow it. And send Arabella a hundred leagues from here.

Lucy So. Let's go, embrace your husband as if nothing happened.

Widow It will be very hard to hide my anger.

(Enter Tuneless and Bramble.)

Lucy Here he is. Recall all the feelings you had on your wedding day.

Widow I do. I'm freezing. My blood is like ice.

Lucy It's conjugal tenderness thawing.

Tuneless Force yourself. Let no rancor show on your face.

Lucy Courage, Madame.

Tuneless Make an effort, sir.

Lucy Strength.

Tuneless Go on, now.

(Bramble and the Widow look at each other and run to embrace. As they hug, their faces show outraged grimaces.)

Bramble I see my dear wife again.

Widow And my equally dear husband!

(They embrace and separate several times, breathing like divers who surface for air, nauseated.)

Bramble Ecch!

Widow Ouf!

Bramble (turning to his wife with a joyful, but somehow tortured look) My joy is so great that it's frightful--ah-ecch!

Widow My delight is too much to bear--yuck!

Bramble Why is it that your joy appears troubled?

Widow Emotions of rage come over me--against the Countess. In making you believe I was dead, she exposed you to a possible seizure. You might have died.

Bramble You?--she would've enjoyed to make me die.

Widow Thank God's Mercy, you look--well. You appear healthy. I am furious with--that woman.

Bramble All this has merely redoubled my feelings for you. I can't really express them.

Widow I feel, also, that my love for you--I don't know how to say it. Huh-- how I hate the Countess.

Bramble This is like a renewal of the feelings I had for you when we first met.

Widow Yes. It's like a second honeymoon.

Tuneless A posthumous marriage.

Bramble A renewal of my love. Yes, I also wish to take these little precautions that will assure you are cared for properly when I die.

Widow I want you to survive me to enjoy my wealth. All that you deserve of it.

Bramble As, so as to no longer have to put up with the presence of anyone around me who might take something from you when I die, I've decided to send my nephew to the Indies.

Widow (with surprise and spite) And, for the same reason, I--I am going to marry Arabella a hundred leagues from here.

Bramble You tell me that with a little spite. It's innocently that I speak to you of separating from Desmond.

Widow And, I have nothing but pure good intentions in separating from Arabella.

(Enter the Countess's Maid.)

Maid Here is the Countess, coming to rejoice. We are going to sing and dance all night. It's not only for the three marriages I see on the agency, WE are ready for a wedding, you see.

Bramble What's that about three weddings?

Maid Yours first--for the Countess regards all this as a new marriage.

Widow She's right. But not one made in Heaven.

Bramble And the two others?

Maid Don't you know? Didn't you know the joke was to get money from you to marry Desmond in Wales. And you, Madame, understood, of course, that the money asked from you was to marry Arabella in Scotland. But, since you refused to give it, the Countess is bearing the expenses herself.

Widow (low, to Lucy) Desmond in Wales!

Lucy Keep a straight face--virtue.

Bramble Arabella in Scotland!

Tuneless Shut up, sir. Dissimulation.

(Enter the Countess, Arabella, Desmond, and the MacPhersons.)

Countess I come to share your joy in being reunited, in seeing each other again, like Orpheus and Eurydice. And to celebrate the two marriages I've made. Now, enjoy yourselves.

(The MacPhersons start to sing: La, la, la--)

Countess Stop the singing. I perceive that instead of rejoicing you, something saddens you. There's something here I don't understand. When I marry a nephew who displeases you so much that you are sending him away--

Bramble Send him away, Madame, that's what I wish--

Countess And, when I take your niece off your hands--

Widow You please me greatly, Madame.

Countess Arabella will leave tomorrow for Scotland.

Widow I consent, but--

Countess And your nephew to Wales--

Bramble That's what I want--but--

Countess Why then, are you both irritated, when I do what contents each of you?

Lucy Madame doesn't want to be separated from her only niece.

Tuneless The gentleman always wishes to see his dear nephew.

Countess I don't believe that you love them at all. Yet--your tenderness for them gives me an idea. It would keep them here. I'll marry them to each other--if you give your consent to it.

Tuneless This marriage would enrage your wife, and--Arabella would always be where you could get at her.

Lucy This marriage would punish your husband, and someday, with Desmond about, you might--

Countess You hesitate at this second proposition. That makes me suspect--

Widow Not at all, Madame.

Bramble You deceive yourself.

Countess What then made you stop?

Widow Because, Madame, having destined my wealth for a husband who is unspeakably dear to me--

Bramble Yes, Madame, and to protect mine for a loving spouse--

Countess Oh, I'm delighted to be deceived in my suspicions. I see the point that causes you hesitation. I ask nothing for them. Leave your money to each other, and let them take from the survivor. That way, they will ultimately get all your wealth, and you will take proper care of your spouse.

Desmond (to Widow) Madame, prevent them from separating me from your presence.

Arabella (to Bramble, low) Sir, will you let them take me away from you into Scotland?

Bramble What determines me is the fear of--of displeasing my wife.

Widow The fear that I have of angering my husband--

Countess Then, the marriage is made. Give your hands.

Tuneless Such a pretty marriage merits a complete Opera. But unfortunately, we have neither musicians nor dancers. And, in the town they have only peasants. Be content, therefore, to listen to the little cantata I have composed. We are going to rehearse it in your presence. And, while we lack musicians, I myself will sing it for you. La, la, la.

(While Tuneless is getting ready, they all run away.)

CURTAIN