Pélléas and Mélisande; Alladine and Palomides; HomeMaeterlinck, Maurice
General
Pélléas and Mélisande; Alladine and Palomides; Home
Maeterlinck, Maurice
French drama
Oh! oh! What saidst thou, Mélisande?... I hardly heard it!... Thou
sayest that in a voice coming from the end of the world!... I hardly
heard thee.... Thou lovest me?--Thou lovest me too?... Since when
lovest thou me?...
MÉLISANDE.
Since always.... Since I saw thee....
PÉLLÉAS.
Oh, how thou sayest that!... Thy voice seems to have blown across the
sea in spring!... I have never heard it until now;... one would say
it had rained on my heart!... Thou sayest that so frankly!... Like an
angel questioned!... I cannot believe it, Mélisande!... Why shouldst
thou love me?--Nay, why dost thou love me?--Is what thou sayest
true?--Thou dost not mock me?--Thou dost not lie a little, to make me
smile?...
MÉLISANDE.
No; I never lie; I lie but to thy brother....
PÉLLÉAS.
Oh, how thou sayest that!... Thy voice! thy voice!... It is cooler and
more frank than the water is!... It is like pure water on my lips!...
It is like pure water on my hands.... Give me, give me thy hands!...
Oh, how small thy hands are!... I did not know thou wert so
beautiful!... I have never seen anything so beautiful before thee....
I was fall of unrest; I sought throughout the house.... I sought
throughout the country.... And I found not beauty.... And now I have
found thee!... I have found thee!.,. I do not think there could be on
the earth a fairer woman!... Where art thou?--I no longer hear thee
breathe....
MÉLISANDE.
Because I look on thee....
PÉLLÉAS.
Why dost thou look so gravely on me?--We are already in the
shadow.--It is too dark under this tree. Come into the light. We
cannot see how happy we are. Come, come; so little time remains to
us....
MÉLISANDE.
No, no; let us stay here.... I am nearer thee in the dark....
PÉLLÉAS.
Where are thine eyes?--Thou art not going to fly me?--Thou dost not
think of me just now.
MÉLISANDE.
Oh, yes; oh, yes; I only think of thee....
PÉLLÉAS.
Thou wert looking elsewhere....
MÉLISANDE.
I saw thee elsewhere....
PÉLLÉAS.
Thy soul is far away.... What ails thee, then?--Meseems thou art not
happy....
MÉLISANDE.
Yes, yes; I am happy, but I am sad....
PÉLLÉAS.
One is sad often when one loves....
MÉLISANDE.
I weep always when I think of thee....
PÉLLÉAS.
I too.... I too, Mélisande.... I am quite near thee; I weep for joy,
and yet ...[_He kisses her again._]--Thou art strange when I kiss thee
so.... Thou art so beautiful that one would think thou wert about to
die....
MÉLISANDE.
Thou too....
PÉLLÉAS.
There, there.... We do not what we will.... I did not love thee the
first time I saw thee....
MÉLISANDE.
Nor I ... nor I.... I was afraid....
PÉLLÉAS.
I could not admit thine eyes.... I would have gone away at once ...
and then....
MÉLISANDE.
And I,--I would not have come.... I do not yet know why,--I was afraid
to come....
PÉLLÉAS.
There are so many things one never knows. We are ever waiting; and
then.... What is that noise?--They are closing the gates!...
MÉLISANDE.
Yes, they have closed the gates....
PÉLLÉAS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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