Scaramouche Page #2

get three days in the pillory...

- Hello, my pet. How are you?

- Are you mad?

We're all out of our minds.

Haven't you observed it?

Lunatic! l'm on my way to my wedding

with a lunatic.

- Stop the coach!

- No. Patience. We're almost there.

And Lenore desires to be married.

Don't you, my darling?

l certainly do.

"Lenore"? "Darling"?

Do you know this man?

Yes, l know him.

That is, l used to know him.

He's a stupid fellow and an awful liar.

Pay no attention to him.

Who is he?

- Who are you?

- l've often wondered.

They call me Andre Moreau.

- Whoever you are, get out this instant!

- Won't you sit down?

That wedding gown

is most becoming, my darling...

but about this marriage, l have my doubts.

- l'm not interested.

- How dare you!

- You're wrong for each other.

- This is monstrous, atrocious, outrageous!

We have here a middle-aged gentleman,

an honest fellow, a solid citizen.

What does he ask of a wife?

That she sit by the fire of an evening...

the little ones at her feet,

darning his hose...

while he tells of the gossip

of the sausage bazaars.

He wants a mere half-dozen children.

Better make that a dozen.

And who does he pick for a wife?

An actress.

A traveling player,

experienced in a number of roles...

but never, l fancy, as the mother of 12.

- Did you say an actress?

- Yes.

Hasn't she told you?

Lenore is an actress.

An indifferent one, but...

lndifferent? l am superb.

The theater's in my blood.

Know what that means? One night, in the

middle of supper, she'll get the old urge.

And while you're having pickles,

she's off on the road again.

- l have only one urge at the moment.

- l know.

To marry me.

- Marry you?

- Yes.

Why didn't you tell me?

- Why didn't you ask me?

- But you never mentioned it.

Darling.

But... my other bridegroom...

Your other bridegroom

is no longer with us.

l shall always remember him.

And now, to make you respectable.

- Excuse me, my darling.

- Where are you going?

- Philippe will be waiting.

- Philippe?

Philippe de Valmorin. My best friend.

You know, my best man.

He promised to be here at noon

with the ring.

Andre!

Don't be nervous.

What's your name?

lvan the Terrible. What's yours?

lf you're Andre Moreau, you must go

to Philippe's at once. There's trouble.

All right, come on!

- Andre, stop!

- All right, my pet, don't be nervous.

- Andre, what happened?

- Unforeseen accident.

Owing to circumstances

entirely beyond my control...

l'm afraid there'll be a slight delay

before l make you my own.

Don't be nervous.

- What's that?

- lt's a carriage. Stopping here.

What do you mean?

- ls it Andre?

- No. lt's a coachman. He's jumped down.

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