FullReads

ADELE.
If he had only lived until mow, you’d see how beautiful he’d be!

DURAND.
It’s very possible that there’s truth in your irony–as I remember him, however, he was not as you all are now.

ADELE.
Will you be good enough to receive Monsieur Antonio yourself? He is coming now to have his coffee without bread! Oh, if mother were only living! She always found a way when you stood helpless.

DURAND.
Your mother had her good qualities.

ADELE.
Although you saw only her faults.

DURAND.
Monsieur Antonio is coming. If you leave me now, I’ll have a talk with him.

ADELE.
You would do better to go out and borrow some money, so that the scandal would be averted.

DURAND.
I can’t borrow a sou. After borrowing for ten years! Let everything crash at once, everything, everything, if it would only be the end!

ADELE.
The end for you, yes. But you never think of us!

DURAND.
No, I have never thought of you, never!

ADELE.
Do you begrudge us our bringing-up?

DURAND.
I am only answering an unjust reproach. Go now, and I’ll meet the storm–as usual.

ADELE.
As usual–h’m!

[Goes. Antonio comes in from back.]

ANTONIO.
Good morning, Monsieur Durand.

DURAND.
Monsieur Lieutenant has already been out for a walk?

ANTONIO.
Yes, I’ve been down toward Cully and saw them put out a chimney fire. Now, some coffee will taste particularly good.

DURAND.
It’s needless to say how it pains me to have to tell you that on account of insufficient supplies our house can no longer continue to do business.

ANTONIO.
How is that?

DURAND.
To speak plainly, we are bankrupt.

ANTONIO.
But, my good Monsieur Durand, is there no way of helping you out of what I hope is just a temporary embarrassment?

DURAND.
No, there is no possible way out. The condition of the house has been so completely undermined for many years that I had rather the crash would come than live in a state of anxiety day and night, expecting what must come.

ANTONIO.
Nevertheless I believe you are looking at the dark side of things.

DURAND.
I can’t see what makes you doubt my statement.

ANTONIO.
Because I want to help you.

DURAND.
I don’t wish any help. Privation must come and teach my children to lead a different life from this which is all play. With the exception of Adele, who really does take care of the kitchen, what do the others do? Play, and sing, and promenade, and flirt; and as long as there is a crust of bread in the house, they’ll never do anything useful.

ANTONIO.
Granting that, but until the finances are straightened out we must have bread in the house. Allow me to stay a month longer and I will pay my bill in advance.

DURAND.
No, thank you, we must stick to this course even if it leads us into the lake! And I don’t want to continue in this business, which doesn’t bring bread–nothing but humiliations. Just think how it was last spring, when the house had been empty for three months. Then at last an American family came and saved us. The morning after their arrival I ran across the son catching hold of my daughter on the stairs. It was Therese,–he was trying to kiss her. What would you have done in my case?