THE SIRE DE MALETROIT’S DOOR
trap. I break my sword on the old beast—
give it up—up come stairs—ah ! stairs come
up—I mean / come—a murrain on these
courtly phrases! and here I stand [rzses and
dows], Denys de Beaulieu, Damoiseau de
Beaulieu, in the Province of Normandy, at
your lordship’s service.
ALAIN,
That is your way of looking after the
lady’s reputation. Hear mine! Allow me
first to introduce myself as Alain de Malé-
troit, Sire de Malétroit, and Warden of the
Marches under his Majesty King Charles—
DENYS.
Whom God preserve !
[ Waves his broken sword.
ALAIN,
What excellent sentiments, and what an
unfortunate omen—dear, dear me! And
I have the honour to offer you the hand—
I presume you already possess the heart—of
the Lady Blanche de Malétroit.
DENYS.
You—what ?
ALAIN,
Tut! Tut! The marriage, if you please,
will take place in an hour.
DENYS.
[ Aszde.] Oh, he is mad after all! [Aloud.]
What nightmare is this?
ALAIN.
You are not very polite to the lady—not
as polite as your letter.
DENYS.
My letter?
[ALAIN takes up letter from table and
reads,
75
ALAIN (reads).
““O white-bosomed Blanche! I am pale
and wan with suffering for thy love. Pity
me, moonlike queen. Leave to-night the
postern door”—my postern door—‘‘ ajar
that I may speak with your beauty on the
stairs’—my stairs. ‘“ Beware of thy lynx-
eyed uncle ”—me—ah ! yes?
DENYS.
Sir, do you take me for the pernicious
idiot that wrote that stuff?
ALAIN.
Sir, I know that there is a lady and a
letter and a door and—a marriage.
[udicating the appropriate four
guarters of the universe.
DENYS.
And a sword. If it de broken—
ALAIN.
Lnteger vite scel—
DENYS.
I know ¢hat tag at least.
[ALAIN claps his hands, walks toward
door behind DENYS. The arras
swings back and armed men appear.
ALAIN.
O mator tandem parcas, insane, minort.
DENYS.
A truce to all this theatrical folly, Mon-
sieur de Malétroit. Let me do you the
honour to take your words seriously. I
decline this marriage. I demand free
passage from your house.
ALAIN,
I regret infinitely that I cannot comply
with Monsieur’s most moderate demands—
at least [yzezck/y] in the sense he means.