Claude Debussy

“ Golaud.
So it is that which makes you weep, my poor Melisande?—Then it is only that.—You weep to have not seen the sky.—Come, you are no longer at the age when one weeps for these things... And then, is not summer here? You will see the sky every day. ”

“ Pelléas.
No, no, no; I have never seen hair like yours, Melisande... Look, look, look, it comes from so high and it inundates me to the very heart. It inundates me more, even to the knees... It is so soft, it is soft as if it fell from heaven! I no longer see the sky through your hair. You see. you see, my hands can no longer hold it. It even reaches to the branches of the willow. It lives as a bird in my hands, and it loves me, it loves me a thousand times more than you!
Melisande. ”

“ At my age,—and there, perhaps, is the surest fruitage of my life,—at my age, I have acquired, I know not what faith in the truth of events, and I have always seen that every being, young and handsome, created about itself events that were young, handsome and happy... ”

“ Golaud.
A great innocence! They are bigger than innocence! They are purer than the eyes of a lamb... They would give God lessons in innocence.—A great innocence! Listen: I am so near that I feel the freshness of their lashes when they blink; and yet, I am less far from the great secrets of the other world than from the little secret of these eyes!... A great innocence!... More than innocence! One would think that the angels of heaven were there ceaselessly celebrating a baptism! I know them, these eyes! ”

“ Come here; why do you remain there without answering and without lifting your eyes?—I have kissed you thus far only once, the day you came; and yet, old men want to touch sometimes with their lips, the forehead of a woman or the cheek of a child, to still believe in the freshness of life and to put farther away the threat of death. Are you afraid of my old lips? How I pitied you these past months...
Melisande.
Grandfather. I was not unhappy...
Arkel.
Let me look at you, quite near, a moment...one has so much need of beauty by the side of death...
(Enter Golaud.)
Golaud. ”

“ Is it Pelléas?...
Melisande.
No, no; it is not Pelléas. It is nobody... You cannot understand me... it is something that is stronger than myself...
Golaud.
Come; be reasonable, Melisande.—What would you have me do?—You are no longer a child.—Is it me that you would leave?
Melisande.
Oh no! it is not that... I would like to go away with you... It is here that I cannot longer live... I feel that I should not live long.
Golaud.
But there still needs a reason. They will think you mad. They will think you have childish dreams. Come, is it Pelléas, perhaps? ”

“ In the Third Act Melisande is seen at a window of the tower arranging her long hair for the night. Pelléas enters the walk below and asks her for her hand to kiss before he goes away. She will not let him have it unless he promises to stay and, when he agrees, she leans so far out to let him reach it that her hair runs down over him in a flood and causes an ecstasy of love to bubble up. Both are so entranced that they give no heed to a menacing shadow in the darkness. It is Golaud. He comes upon them suddenly but treats their alliance as the play of children and leads Pelléas away. ”

“ I would sooner have lost all I have than to have lost this ring. You do not know what it is. You do not know whence it comes. The sea will be very high to-night. The sea will come to take it before you... You must hurry. ”

“ Pelléas.
Let us enter... You must be able to describe the place where you lost the ring, if he questions you. It is very large and very beautiful. It is full of blue darkness. When one lights a little lamp, it is as if the vault were covered with stars, like the heavens. Give me your hand, do not tremble, do not tremble so. There is no danger: we will stop at the moment when we longer see the light of the sea... Is it the noise of the grotto that frightens you? ”

“ I know that my mother will willingly forgive me. But I fear Arkel, spite of all his goodness, for I deceived, by this strange marriage, all his political projects, and I fear that the beauty of Mélisande will not excuse in his eyes, so wise, my folly. If, nevertheless, he consents to receive her as he would receive his own daughter, the third evening that follows this letter, light a lamp at the summit of the tower that looks on the sea. ”

“ Enter Genevieve and Melisande.
Melisande.
It is dark in the gardens. And what forests, what forests around the palaces!...
Genevieve.
Yes; it astonished me too when I came here, and it astonishes everybody. There are places where one never sees the sun. But one is soon used to it. It is a long time, it is a long time... It is nearly forty years that I live here...Look on the other side and you will have the light of the sea...
Melisande. ”

“ Golaud.
At once?... Oh, oh! I must tell her...—Melisande! Melisande!... Leave me alone, leave me alone with her!...
Arkel.
No, no; do not approach... Do not trouble her. Do not speak to her any more... You do not know what the soul is...
Golaud.
It is not my fault, it is not my fault!
Arkel.
Attention...attention... We must speak low.—Do not annoy her any more... The human soul is very silent... The human soul likes to go away alone... It suffers so timidly... But the sadness, Golaud... but the sadness of all one sees!... ”

“ Pelléas.
My lips cannot reach your hand...
Melisande.
I cannot bend over farther... I am on the point of falling. Oh, oh, my hair descends from the tower!...
(Her hair suddenly revolutes, as she bends over thus, and covers Pelléas.)
Pelléas.
Oh, oh, what is it?... Your hair, your hair comes down toward me!... All your hair, Melisande, all your hair is fallen from the tower... I hold it in my hands, I hold it in my mouth... I hold it in my arms, and I put it around my neck. I shall not open my hands again to-night... ”

“ It is heavier than all the world.—It is heavier than everything.
I see my golden ball between the rock and this naughty stone and I cannot reach it... My little arm is not long enough—and this stone will not be lifted—One would think it had roots in the earth...
(The bleating of sheep is heard in the distance.)
Oh, oh! I hear the sheep cry.—Hallo, there is no more sun!—They come, the little sheep; they come...what a lot...what a lot! They are afraid of the dark... They press together...they press together! They cry...and they go quickly!... ”

“ I cannot come nearer to you... I am leaning over as much as I can...
Pelléas.
I cannot mount any higher...give me at least your hand to-night...before I go away...I start to-morrow...
Melisande. ”

“ Genevieve, the mother of Golaud and Pelléas, reads a letter to Arkel in which Golaud writes to Pelléas that he has wedded the mysterious Melisande and if it is acceptable to the king a light should be placed on the highest tower at night so that it may be seen from his ship. If no light is there the ship will go on.
The third scene shows the castle. Melisande tells Genevieve how dark and gloomy the place is. The forest is so wild and old with trees that the sky is hidden. Pelléas comes to show the way to Melisande but she is timid of his aid. ”

“ Golaud.
Bring it. (to Arkel.) They have just found the body of a peasant, starved to death, on the seashore. One would think they all wanted to die under our eyes.— (to Melisande.) Well, my sword?—Why do you tremble thus?—I am not going to kill you. I simply wanted to examine the blade. I do not use a sword for these purposes. Why do you examine me like a pauper?—I do not come to beg of you. You hope to see something in my eyes without my seeing anything in yours? Do you think that I know anything? (to Arkel.) Do you see these big eyes? One would imagine they were proud to be rich... ”

“ Nothing, nothing, my child.—I saw a wolf pass in the forest.—They embrace each other sometimes—No?
Yniold.
They embrace each other, little father?—No, no.—Ah, yes; once...once that it was raining... ”

“ Melisande.
Oh, oh! you hurt me. What is it, Pelléas? What is it that flies around me?
Pelléas.
It is the doves that come out of the tower. I frightened them. They fly away.
Melisande.
They are my doves, Pelléas.—Let us go, leave me; they would not return...
Pelléas.
Why would they not return?
Melisande.
They will be lost in the obscurity... Let me lift my head... I hear a noise of footsteps... Leave me!—It is Golaud... I think it is Golaud... He has heard us...
Pelléas.
Wait, wait!... Your hair is around the branches... It has got caught in the darkness. ”

“ There, perhaps, happen no useless events...
Genevieve.
He has always been so prudent, so serious and so firm. Since the death of his wife he only lived for his son, the little Yniold. He has forgotten everything.—What shall we do? ”

“ Golaud says he values the ring above all earthly possessions. She must go to seek for it at once. She is afraid in the dark. He tells her to get Pelléas to help her.
In scene three Pelléas and Melisande are in the grotto. As they enter, by a sudden ray of moonlight they see three blind old men, sleeping. Melisande is frightened. Pelléas says the blind men presage misfortune. ”

“ Suddenly Charles Fairfield rushed forward and, seizing both her hands, fell upon his knees. "Deborah! Deborah! Deborah! I love you! In the name of God Almighty, give me some hope! I meant everything honestly—honorably—do you hear? The marriage would have been legal. Rockwell will swear that to you. What right have you—Debby! Debby, you promised! Is it true that you don't care?"
Deborah drew away from him as far as she could. Her face was drawn and weary, and no light in her eyes answered his entreaties. Claude, who had watched her narrowly, now interposed. ”

“ The older woman beside her kept looking round the table with a jolly air of hospitality, and showing her yellow teeth in a smile.
Afterwards they went back to the sitting room and Andrews sat down at the piano. The girl sat very straight on a little chair beside the piano. Andrews ran his fingers up and down the keys.
“Did you say you knew Debussy?” he said suddenly. “I? No; but he used to come to see my father when I was a little girl.... I have been brought up in the middle of music.... That shows how silly it is to be a woman. There is no music in my head. ”

“ Debby ran to her, alarmed at her tragic expression, and Mrs. Carroll, drawing the girl's face into the privacy of her big bonnet, whispered one awful word, adding, distractedly,--
"Dive for them! oh, dive for them! I shall be perfectly helpless, if they are lost!"
"I can't dive, Aunt Pen; but there is a man, let us ask him," said Debby, as a black head appeared to windward. ”

“ Lord Antony Dewhurst, one of the sons of the Duke of Exeter, was in those days a very perfect type of a young English gentlemen—tall, well set-up, broad of shoulders and merry of face, his laughter rang loudly wherever he went. A good sportsman, a lively companion, a courteous, well-bred man of the world, with not too much brains to spoil his temper, he was a universal favourite in London drawing-rooms or in the coffee-rooms of village inns. ”

“ Through the darkness and through the tortuous streets of Nantes Lord Anthony Dewhurst—the young and wealthy exquisite, the hero of an hundred fêtes and galas in Bath, in London—staggered under the weight of a burden imposed upon him only by his loyalty and a noble sense of self-prescribed discipline—and that burden the dead body of the man who had done him an unforgivable wrong. ”

“ Under her simplicity of character and girlish merriment Debby possessed a devout spirit and a nature full of the real poetry of life, two gifts that gave her dawning womanhood its sweetest charm, and made her what she was. As she looked out that summer dawn upon the royal marriage of the ocean and the sun, all petty hopes and longings faded out of sight, and her young face grew luminous with thoughts too deep for words. Her day was happier for that silent hour, her life richer for the aspirations that uplifted her like beautiful strong angels, and left a blessing when they went. ”

“ Amidst all the confusion incident to the announcement of the old seaman, Devereaux drew Francis aside and whispered entreatingly:
“Francis, I implore thee to remain here. ’Tis not seemly that thou shouldst board ship. There will be fighting, and——”
“And thou wouldst have all the glory, Edward Devereaux,” cried the girl unjust as she often was when indignant. “Dost thou think that I fear? What hath life to yield that would equal the sweetness of striking one blow for England? Think you an English girl cannot fight as well as an English lad?” ”

“ Long after Mary was sleeping, Dorothy was still lying awake listening for her brother's return. She knew she would hear him, for his room was just across the hall, opposite her own.
As she nestled among the lavender-scented pillows, visions would keep coming to her of the handsome face she had seen that morning, and again that very night. The purple-hued eyes, edged so thickly with swart curling lashes, seemed to be looking into her own, as when she held his wounded head pillowed against her knee, while his voice yet thrilled in her ears as had never any man's before. ”

“ Bristol had got no more than to the end of the hall when he saw Devereaux ascending the stairs from below. He quietly stepped behind the curtains that trailed from the lambrequin over the window, and watched the old man as he came up the stairs.
He was a little, gray, withered old man. Almost all his strength was gone, and he certainly had but a few more years to use what little strength was left. His hair was almost white, and his face was quite as colorless, while the weak, rheumy eyes seemed almost ready to fall through the flesh which had withered away to the bones of his face. ”

“ It's dreadful not to have intellectual people about one. I suppose you're from New York.”
Andrews nodded.
“Um hum, so am I. You're probably read some of my things in Vain Endeavor.... What, you've never read Vain Endeavor? I guess you didn't go round with the intellectual set.... Musical people often don't.... Of course I don't mean the Village. All anarchists and society women there....”
“I've never gone round with any set, and I never...”
“Never mind, we'll fix that when we all get back to New York. And now you just sit down at that piano and play me Debussy's 'Arabesque.'... ”