de la MOTTE
Admit that it would be strange, all the same, Monsignor, if your portfolio was found in this little box.
ROHAN
What are you saying?
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
What would you make of me, Monsignor, if I made a Prime Minister of you?
ROHAN
What Cardinal de Bourbon made of Madame de Prie, his ally, his councilor, his associate, what a dream, Countess—two heads to govern France—two heads and a single heart!
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
Till soon—!
ROHAN
(kissing her hand) In your house.
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
(with a curtsy) Never shall I be such an ingrate, Monsignor, as to forget you are at home there.
(calling) Dame Clothilde, light out Monsignor.
CLOTHILDE
(with a torch, speechless and making a grotesque curtsy) Monsignor!
ROHAN
(aside, leaving) Let’s go! This woman has too much wit not to capture the Queen as she has captured me.
(He leaves.)
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
(alone) Decidedly, I will end by believing sorcerers!
(to Clothilde, who returns) Come here, Dame Clothilde, and see!
(she shows her the gold in the bowl)
CLOTHILDE
Jesus, Holy Virgin, so much money!
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
You were worried about your wages.
CLOTHILDE
Oh, Madame, I never said that!
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
Here for your pay—and here’s for the hotel—here’s for the grocer—here’s for the restaurant owner—
CLOTHILDE
Fine, Madame.
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
And now, run to Master Pingret, the second-hand clothes dealer and repurchase from him my beautiful trimmed gown, the last gift of that dear Madame de Beauvilliers, my benefactress, poor dress that I was obliged to put in pawn the day of her death, so as to be able to wear mourning.
CLOTHILDE
I’m hurrying there, Madame. Returning, I will purchase the wherewithal to concoct Madame a nice little dinner.
COUNTESS de la MOTTE
(very haughtily) For whom do you take me? I don’t dine, and I will never again dine in your wretched place.
(she leaves proudly)
CLOTHILDE
(alone) Ah! For sure she must have become rich suddenly to be as insolent as that.
(noises off) But one would say they’re knocking at the door of Mr. de Beausire. And that voice! I’d swear that it was that of—
(she opens the door) Yes, indeed—Miss Oliva!
OLIVA
(gaily) You said it, respectable octogenarian.
CLOTHILDE
Why come in—will you—Mr. de Beausire has taken your key.
OLIVA
To come in here—It’s that I am with someone.
(she points to Cagliostro, who appears in the doorway)
CLOTHILDE
The Count de Cagliostro!
OLIVA
Heavens, mother Methusalim, you know the Count?
CAGLIOSTRO
Am I not known by everybody? Dame Clothilde, would you watch on Mr. de Beausire’s landing and introduce him here when you see him?
(Exit Clothilde.)
OLIVA
You can’t think of it! Put Beausire face to face with you—he will kill you.
CAGLIOSTRO
(very calm) My dear Miss Oliva—when I met you a week ago in the Palace-Royal, I placed at your feet a refuge against Mr. Beausire and his flower pots. Have I kept my word?
OLIVA
As to that, yes—
CAGLIOSTRO
During that week, in like manner, clothing, nourishment—have you had all that you wish?
OLIVA
And even more. I’ve never eaten so well in my life!
CAGLIOSTRO
You will grant me that I have not for a moment forgotten the respect that I owe you.
OLIVA
Oh! God! Not one poor little time! To the degree it was ungracious! Ah! One might say that if one eats well at your place, you have no appetite.
CAGLIOSTRO
My dear child, the moment has come for us to explain ourselves plainly.
OLIVA
Oof! That will please me!
CAGLIOSTRO
What do you do all day?
OLIVA
I do nothing.
CAGLIOSTRO
You are lazy—very well? Do you like to stroll?
OLIVA
A lot.
CAGLIOSTRO
To attend spectacles, balls—?
OLIVA
Always.
CAGLIOSTRO
