Eugène Brieux

“ It is the poisoned blood of the prostitute which poisons my daughter and her child; that abject creature, she lives, she lives in us! She belongs to our family—he has given her a seat at our hearth! He has soiled the imagination and the thoughts of my poor child, as he has soiled her body. He has united forever in her soul the idea of love which she has placed so high, with I know not what horrors of the hospitals. He has tainted her in her dignity and her modesty, in her love as well as in her baby. He has struck her down with physical and moral decay, he has overwhelmed her with vileness. ”

“ The ugliest, the most deformed, the most unreal of our gods, I adore them, and I bow down before their impossibility. [She kneels] Oh, I stifle in their petty narrow world, sad as a forest without birds! Air! Air! Singing! The sound of wings! Things that fly!
Yaouma [kneeling] Let me be sacrificed!
Mieris. Let me have a reason for living!
Yaouma. I would give my life to the gods who gave me birth!
Mieris. I would believe that there is some one above men!
Yaouma. Some one who watches over us!
Mieris. Who will console as with his justice!
Yaouma. Some one to cry our sorrows to! ”

“ Have pity upon us! Have pity upon her! You speak of the weakest—it is not she who is the weakest? You have seen her, you have seen that poor little baby, so emaciated! You have seen what a heap of suffering she is already; and cannot that inspire in you any sympathy? I pray you, sir—I pray you!”
“I pity her,” said the doctor, “I would like to save her—and I will do everything for her. But do not ask me to sacrifice to a feeble infant, with an uncertain and probably unhappy life, the health of a sound and robust woman. It is useless for us to continue such a discussion as that.” ”

“ CAROLINE. Still for your own sake you will have to send them away.
JULIE. What do you advise, then? That I should remain with my husband?
CAROLINE. Ah, Julie dear, you complain of not being loved as you wish to be. What can I say to that, I whom no man will ever take in his arms? I who feel myself a thing apart, useless, absurd, incomplete. You don’t know what a void that means for a woman: to have no one to forgive, no one to devote herself to. And the world sneers at women for remaining single. It makes their loneliness a reproach. ”

“ I shall bring him back to our gods.
The Pharaoh. You will fail.
High Priest. He who for long has breathed the air of temples can never wholly clear his breast of it. If he give way, he shall never leave the house of the Gods again, if he be still rebellious, he shall leave to go to his death.
The Pharaoh. I order you to give Satni up to me.
High Priest. I would I might bow to your will. But he is a priest: his life is sacred. And I may not transgress the orders given me by the Gods.
The Pharaoh. Prate not of these follies to me—do you take me for one of your priests? Obey! I command you! ”

“ He struck the floor with his foot, he tore his hair, as if he were suffering from violent physical pain. “Oh, oh, oh!” he cried. “My little child! My little child!” And then, in a horrified whisper to himself, “I am a wretch! A criminal!”
“Madame,” said the doctor, “you must calm yourself; you must both calm yourselves. You will not help out the situation by lamentations. You must learn to take it with calmness.”
Madame Dupont set her lips together, and with a painful effort recovered her self-control. “You are right, sir,” she said, in a low voice. ”

“ JULIE. But, Caroline, if people see me accepting hardship with courage, living alone deliberately, because I choose, surely the dignity of my life will make them respect me?
CAROLINE. No one will believe in the dignity of your life.
JULIE. Then it is monstrous! That is all I can say. Monstrous! And since to pay for bread to eat and clothes to wear and a roof to cover me I must either give myself to a husband I hate or to a lover whom, perhaps, I may love, I choose the lover. If I must sell myself to someone, I prefer to choose the buyer.
ANGÈLE. You are mad! Mad! Be reconciled to your husband. ”

“ Satni. In spite of you, I will save you. [Yaouma goes up the stairway leading to the terrace. Satni stands on a bench and shouts to the crowd] Hear me, my brothers, I know of better Gods, of Gods who ask for no victims—
The People. They are false Gods!
Satni. They are better Gods—
Steward. Rheou! Rheou! bid him cease!
Rheou. No—let him speak.
Satni. I come to save you from error, to overthrow the idols, to teach you eternal truths—
An immense shout of acclamation drowns the rest of Satni's words, as Yaouma, who has appeared on the terrace above, stands with her arms raised to the setting sun. ”

“ BRIGNAC. But Jacques Bernin is engaged.
LUCIE. He must break it off, that’s all.
BRIGNAC. He won’t break it off, because it means lots and lots of money, and because he is the most ferocious little fortune-hunter I ever met. Yes, he is; I know him, I see him at the club. I’ve heard him holding forth about women and money; his opinions are edifying. By the way, has Annette any letters from him connecting him with this business?
LUCIE. No.
BRIGNAC. He’s not such a fool as to compromize himself. He’ll deny everything.
LUCIE. You must threaten them with a scandal. ”

“ George thought of his own mother, and what she would think if she could know about his night’s adventure. He thought again and again, with a pang of anguish, of Henriette. Could it be possible that a man who was engaged, whose marriage contract had actually been signed, who was soon to possess the love of a beautiful and noble girl—that such a man could have been weak enough and base enough to let himself be trapped into such a low action? ”

“ Yaouma. Then you would have died believing in a lie—if what they say be true.
Mieris. What matter, I had smiled as I died, thinking death but the journey to a land where my lost child was waiting for me. The death of a child! No mother ever can believe, at heart, in that. It is too unjust—too cruel to be possible. One says to oneself: it is but a separation! Oh! Satni, thy doctrines may be the truth. But they declare this separation eternal; they make the death of our loved ones final, irreparable, horrible, therefore I foretell thee this: Women will never believe them! ”

“ LUCIE. Send it in.
BRIGNAC. Yes, and what should we live upon then?
LUCIE [after a silence] Then that is society’s welcome to the newborn child!
BRIGNAC. To the child born outside marriage, yes. If it wasn’t for that there would soon be nothing but illegitimate births. It is to preserve the family that society condemns the natural child.
LUCIE. If there is guilt two people are guilty. Why do you only punish the mother?
BRIGNAC. What am I to say to you? Because it’s easier.
LUCIE. And that’s your justice! The truth is, you all uphold the conventions of society. ”

“ More than any other such an infant has need of a nurse—is that not true?”
“Yes,” the doctor admitted, “that is true. But—”
“In that case, between the life of the child, and the health of the nurse, you understand perfectly well that my choice is made.”
Between her words the doctor heard the sobbing of George, whose head was buried in his arms. “Madame,” he said, “your love for that baby has just caused you to utter something ferocious! It is not for you to choose. It is not for you to choose. I forbid the nursing. The health of that woman does not belong to you.” ”

“ Isis, we adore thee!
High Priest. This year, once more, show to us by that miraculous sign of thy divine head, that still thou art our protectress. [The people repeat the incantation in a murmur] O goddess, if thou hast pity on those who suffer, thou wilt bend thy head. Pity! Pity! we suffer! The evil spirits torment us.
The People. We suffer! Drive forth the evil spirits!
High Priest. Neith! Mother of the Universe! The evil spirits torment us! Neith! Virgin genetrix! Isis, sacred earth of Egypt, bend thy head! ”

“ Three, sir! Three out of twenty-eight! Syphilis is above everything a murderer of children. Herod reigns in France, and over all the earth, and begins each year his massacre of the innocents; and if it be not blasphemy against the sacredness of life, I say that the most happy are those who have disappeared. Visit our children’s hospitals! We know too well the child of syphilitic parents; the type is classical; the doctors can pick it out anywhere. Those little old creatures who have the appearance of having already lived, and who have kept the stigmata of all out infirmities, of all our decay. ”

“ LIGNOL. If making love to you means yielding to an overmastering attraction—to a fascination—
JULIE [laughing] You certainly make the most of your time as friend of the family. But I shouldn’t hurry if I were you. You will only be wasting a lot of pretty speeches which you could employ to greater advantage elsewhere. I have old-fashioned views on the subject of marriage.
LIGNOL. Whatever they are I am sure they will be lofty and noble.
JULIE. You are too good. But you are mistaken. My view is commonplace enough. All I ask of life is that I may love my children and love my husband. ”

“ Satni. I have no God. If there be a god, he is so great, so far from as, so utterly beyond our comprehension, that for us it is as though he did not exist. To believe that one of our actions, to believe that a prayer could act upon the will of God, is to belittle him, to deny him. He is himself incapable of a miracle; it would be to belie himself. Could he improve his work, he would not then have created it perfect from the first. He could not do it.
Rheou. Our ancient gods at least permitted hope.
Satni. Keep them.
Rheou. In the heart of Mieris, you have destroyed them. ”

“ René. Well, Thérèse, they won't come to our wedding.
Thérèse. They still refuse their consent?
René. We can do without it.
Thérèse. But they refuse it?
René. Yes. Forgive me, my dearest, for asking you to take just my own self. Do you love me enough to marry me quite simply, without any relations, since I leave my relations for your sake?
Thérèse. My dear, we mustn't do that; we must wait.
René. No, I won't wait. I won't lose the best time of my life, and years of happiness, for the sake of prejudices I don't believe in. Do you remember what you said to me the night we played Barberine? ”

“ The play is, above all, a powerful plea for the tearing away of the veil of mystery that has so universally shrouded this subject of the penalty of sexual immorality. It is a plea for light on this hidden danger, that fathers and mothers, young men and young women, may know the terrible price that must be paid, not only by the generation that violates the law, but by the generations to come. It is a serious question just how the education of men and women, especially young men and young women, in the vital matters of sex relationship should be carried on. ”

“ The manufacture of well made plays is not an art: it is an industry. It is not at all hard for a literary mechanic to acquire it: the only difficulty is to find a literary mechanic who is not by nature too much of an artist for the job; for nothing spoils a well made play more infallibly than the least alloy of high art or the least qualm of conscience on the part of the writer. ‘Art for art’s sake’ is the formula of the well made play, meaning in practice ‘Success for money’s sake.’ Now great art is never produced for its own sake. It is too difficult to be worth the effort. ”

“ But I think, young man, that I know more about life than you do. When a man and a woman have once committed such a sin, it is easy for them to slip back. The less time they spend talking about their misfortunes, and being generous and forbearing to each other, the better for them both.”
“But, Doctor,” cried George. “I love Henriette! I could not possibly love anyone else. It would be horrible to me!”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “But you are not living with Henriette. You are wandering round, not knowing what to do with yourself next.” ”

“ Believe me, Etchepare, the jury will be touched by your confession, by your repentance—you will escape the supreme penalty. You are still young—you have long years before you in which to expiate your crime. You may earn your pardon and perhaps you may once again see those children, who will have forgiven you. Believe me—believe me—in your own interests even, confess! [Mouzon has approached Etchepare during the foregoing; he places his hands on the latter's shoulders; he continues, with great gentleness] Come, isn't it true? If you can't speak, you've only to nod your head. ”

“ BRIGNAC. You’re always worrying about the future; now what makes me the man I am is my persistent confidence in the future. If Balureau doesn’t get into office again we’ll stay quietly at Châteauneuf, that’s all. You can’t complain, as you were born here.
LUCIE. But it’s you who complain.
BRIGNAC. I complain of the want of spirit in the people. I complain that I cannot get them to love and respect our political institutions. I complain above all of the society of Châteauneuf: a set of officials entertaining one another.
LUCIE. Society in Châteauneuf doesn’t open its arms to us, certainly. ”