The Princess Of Bagdad Part 7

Of another?

LIONNETTE (_laughing_).

You are mad. You have always been a little inclined that way. It is true that if you had not been silly you would never have married me.

JOHN.

Whether I am mad or not, answer my question.

LIONNETTE.

No, you can be a.s.sured on that point. I have never thought of any one else.

JOHN.

And if I were to die; if I killed myself; if you, in the end, became a widow, and that man who is there--that strange man, that millionaire--made you an offer, would you marry him?

LIONNETTE.

We have not arrived at that yet.

JOHN.

Who can tell? In the meantime that man loves you, and wishes to go so far as to make you love him without waiting for my death. You have remarked it as well as I.

LIONNETTE.

Where is the woman who does not discover such things? Ask those who have never, by anyone, been told or allowed to see that they were loved, what they think of life. Our dream is to hear such declarations; our art is to listen to them; and our genius and power not to believe in them.

JOHN.

Has he declared himself?

LIONNETTE.

Never.

JOHN.

Your word for it.

LIONNETTE.

My word of honour.

JOHN.

It will come to that.

LIONNETTE.

He will not be the last, I hope. What do you want to make of it?

JOHN.

He will declare himself, perhaps, at the moment when nothing remains for you but misery or suicide: both are equally hard for a young and beautiful woman.

LIONNETTE (_seriously and haughtily_).

You are confounding me with some other woman whom you loved before me.

Do I expose myself to these suppositions by my ways of living? Ah! no, no. I have many defects but no vices, I believe; and, in spite of my anxiety for the future, I have never yet dreamed of these ways of escape. I trust never to think for a moment of them.

JOHN.

How much I love you! You have in you all that is most strange and n.o.ble in this world. You have a power over me almost superhuman. I think of no one but you; I want nothing but you; I dream only of you. If I suspect, it is because I love you. When you are not here, I do not exist: when I find you again, I tremble like a child. I implore you never to trifle with that love,--so deep, and, yet, so troubled. I do not ask you to love me beyond your power of loving; but love none other more than me.

You know not--I do not know myself--what the result might be. When I think of the future, I grow giddy. (_In a low, eager voice_) I adore you! I adore you!

(_During the last words_ NOURVADY _has come on to the stage again. He has looked at_ JOHN _and_ LIONNETTE. _He takes his hat_; G.o.dLER _and_ TReVELe _follow him_.)

LIONNETTE.

Do not speak so low; you could be heard.

JOHN.

Kiss me, then.

LIONNETTE.

You wish me to kiss you. Here?

JOHN.

Here.

LIONNETTE.

Before everybody?

JOHN.

Before him.

LIONNETTE.

The same subject. Take care! You are doing him a great honour.

JOHN.