Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe: Three Plays By BrieuxBrieux, Eugène
General
Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe: Three Plays By Brieux
Brieux, Eugène
French drama
MOUZON. Here is some more. "Illicit relations were before long formed
between the girl Yanetta and the son of the family, who was twenty-three
years of age. Two years later the lovers fled, taking with them eight
thousand francs which the young man had stolen from his father. On the
information of the latter the girl Yanetta was arrested and condemned to
one month's imprisonment for receiving stolen property. After serving
her sentence she disappeared. It is believed that she returned to her
own district." Are you the person mentioned here?
YANETTA. Yes. My God, I thought that was all so long ago--so completely
forgotten. It is all true, Monsieur, but for ten years now I've given
every minute of my life to making up for it, trying to redeem myself.
Just now I answered you insolently; I beg your pardon. You have not only
my life in your hands now, but my husband's, and the honor of my
children.
MOUZON. Does your husband know of this?
YANETTA. No, Monsieur. Oh, you aren't going to tell him! I beg you on my
knees! It would be wicked, I tell you, wicked! Listen, Monsieur--listen.
I came back to the country; I hid myself; I would rather have died; I
didn't want to stay in Paris--you understand why--and then in a little
while I lost mother. Etchepare was in love with me, and he bothered me
to marry him. I refused--I had the courage to go on refusing for three
years. Then--I was so lonely, so miserable, and he was so unhappy, that
in the end I gave way. I ought to have told him everything. I wanted to,
but I couldn't. It would have hurt him too much. For he's a good man,
Monsieur, I swear he is. [_Mouzon makes a gesture_] Yes, I know,
sometimes when he's been drinking, he's violent. I was going to tell you
about that. I don't want to tell you any more untruths. But it's very
seldom he's violent now. [_Weeping_] Oh, don't let him know, Monsieur,
don't let him know. He'd go away--he'd leave me--he'd take my children
from me. [_She gives a despairing cry_] Ah, he'd take my children from
me! I don't know what to say to you--but it isn't possible--you can't
tell him--now you know all the harm it would do. You won't? Of course I
was guilty--but I didn't understand--I didn't know. I wasn't seventeen,
sir, when I went to Paris. My master and mistress had a son; he forced
me almost--and I loved him--and then he wanted to take me away because
his parents wanted to send him away by himself. I did what he asked me.
That money--I didn't know he had stolen it--I swear I didn't know--
MOUZON. That's all right; control yourself.
YANETTA. Yes, Monsieur.
MOUZON. We'll put that on one side for the moment.
YANETTA. Yes, Monsieur.
MOUZON. Now your husband--
YANETTA. Yes, Monsieur.
MOUZON [_with great sincerity_] You will have need of all your courage,
my poor woman. Your husband is guilty.
YANETTA. It's impossible! It's impossible!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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