BRIGNAC. And then I should be tried for murder? Well, do you think I’m afraid of that? What then? I should defend myself, and I can tell you not many people have heard such a speech as I should make! Think of the effect on the jury! I should be acquitted, and the public would cheer till the court had to be cleared. [_A pause_]. He’s in luck’s way, the brute, that I’ve too much respect for human life. If I weren’t a bit old fashioned—ha, so much for him. [_A pause_]. No, no; the weak point in these folk is their pocket. That’s what I’ll go for. That’s it. We’ll bring an action, an action for the seduction of an infant. LUCIE. Publish her shame like that! BRIGNAC. He’ll have his share of it. I’ll make him sing another tune, so I will. We’ll ask twenty, fifty, a hundred thousand francs damages! It’ll be a dowry for Annette. Yes; we can do that, an ordinary civil action, or else, if we like, prosecute him criminally. I could shew you the law about it; it’s all in the reports. And besides, the way I’ll conduct the case, the papers will boom it sky high. LUCIE. You can’t surely want to have the papers talking about us, printing poor Annette’s story, discussing her honor? BRIGNAC. Reflecting on me, too. If only we weren’t related! LUCIE. We should be just as much dishonored. BRIGNAC. If you hadn’t made me take Annette to live with us when your parents died, none of this would have happened. LUCIE. It was you who suggested it to me! BRIGNAC. I know I did. All the stupid things I’ve done in my life—not that there have been many—come from my having too good a heart. All people from the South have; we can’t think twice before doing a kindness. So much the more reason why you should have looked after her carefully. LUCIE. Oh, it’s too much! When you yourself wanted her to make friends with the Bernins! BRIGNAC. Because I hoped that old Bernin would be useful to us! LUCIE. You always kept urging Annette to go to them. BRIGNAC. So it’s all my fault, is it? LUCIE. I don’t say that, but I must shew you that I’m not so culpable as you make out. What are we going to do? BRIGNAC. In any case Annette can’t stay here. LUCIE. Good heavens, where can she go? Madeleine can’t have her. Perhaps our old nurse, Catherine— BRIGNAC. If she went to Madeleine or Catherine, it would be exactly as if we kept her here. The important thing is that no one should know anything about it. She must go to Paris, to some big town, till the birth of her child. LUCIE. It’s not possible. BRIGNAC. The only thing not possible is to let it be known, to keep her at Chartres. Can’t you imagine what it would be like for her if we did? Think of her going to a concert or to Mass when her condition became evident! She wouldn’t be able to go out of the house without being exposed to insult and insolence. And the way our acquaintances would look at her! Why, it would be purgatory. LUCIE. And everyone will welcome M. Jacques Bernin.