She has just expressed her desire to leave Homburg, as the place in which the vile calumny first took its rise, when the Baron returns, overhears her last words, and says to her, "Yes, leave Homburg by all means; provided you leave it in the character of my Lord's betrothed wife!"'The Countess is startled and shocked. She protests that she does not reciprocate my Lord's admiration for her. She even goes the length of refusing to see him again. The Baron answers, "I must positively have command of money. Take your choice, between marrying my Lord's income, in the interest of my grand discovery--or leave me to sell myself and my title to the first rich woman of low degree who is ready to buy me."'The Countess listens in surprise and dismay. Is it possible that the Baron is in earnest? He is horribly in earnest.
"The woman who will buy me," he says, "is in the next room to us at this moment. She is the wealthy widow of a Jewish usurer.
She has the money I want to reach the solution of the great problem.
I have only to be that woman's husband, and to make myself master of untold millions of gold. Take five minutes to consider what I have said to you, and tell me on my return which of us is to marry for the money I want, you or I."'As he turns away, the Countess stops him.
'All the noblest sentiments in her nature are exalted to the highest pitch. "Where is the true woman," she exclaims, "who wants time to consummate the sacrifice of herself, when the man to whom she is devoted demands it? She does not want five minutes--she does not want five seconds--she holds out her hand to him, and she says, Sacrifice me on the altar of your glory! Take as stepping-stones on the way to your triumph, my love, my liberty, and my life!"'On this grand situation the curtain falls. Judging by my first act, Mr. Westwick, tell me truly, and don't be afraid of turning my head:--Am I not capable of writing a good play?'
Henry paused between the First and Second Acts; reflecting, not on the merits of the play, but on the strange resemblance which the incidents so far presented to the incidents that had attended the disastrous marriage of the first Lord Montbarry.
Was it possible that the Countess, in the present condition of her mind, supposed herself to be exercising her invention when she was only exercising her memory?
The question involved considerations too serious to be made the subject of a hasty decision. Reserving his opinion, Henry turned the page, and devoted himself to the reading of the next act.
The manuscript proceeded as follows:--
'The Second Act opens at Venice. An interval of four months has elapsed since the date of the scene at the gambling table.
The action now takes place in the reception-room of one of the Venetian palaces.
'The Baron is discovered, alone, on the stage. He reverts to the events which have happened since the close of the First Act.
The Countess has sacrificed herself; the mercenary marriage has taken place--but not without obstacles, caused by difference of opinion on the question of marriage settlements.
'Private inquiries, instituted in England, have informed the Baron that my Lord's income is derived chiefly from what is called entailed property.
In case of accidents, he is surely bound to do something for his bride?
Let him, for example, insure his life, for a sum proposed by the Baron, and let him so settle the money that his widow shall have it, if he dies first.
'My Lord hesitates. The Baron wastes no time in useless discussion.
"Let us by all means" (he says) "consider the marriage as broken off."My Lord shifts his ground, and pleads for a smaller sum than the sum proposed. The Baron briefly replies, "I never bargain."My lord is in love; the natural result follows--he gives way.
'So far, the Baron has no cause to complain. But my Lord's turn comes, when the marriage has been celebrated, and when the honeymoon is over.
The Baron has joined the married pair at a palace which they have hired in Venice. He is still bent on solving the problem of the "Philosopher's Stone." His laboratory is set up in the vaults beneath the palace--so that smells from chemical experiments may not incommode the Countess, in the higher regions of the house.
The one obstacle in the way of his grand discovery is, as usual, the want of money. His position at the present time has become truly critical. He owes debts of honour to gentlemen in his own rank of life, which must positively be paid; and he proposes, in his own friendly manner, to borrow the money of my Lord.
My Lord positively refuses, in the rudest terms. The Baron applies to his sister to exercise her conjugal influence. She can only answer that her noble husband (being no longer distractedly in love with her)now appears in his true character, as one of the meanest men living.
The sacrifice of the marriage has been made, and has already proved useless.
'Such is the state of affairs at the opening of the Second Act.
'The entrance of the Countess suddenly disturbs the Baron's reflections.
She is in a state bordering on frenzy. Incoherent expressions of rage burst from her lips: it is some time before she can sufficiently control herself to speak plainly. She has been doubly insulted--first, by a menial person in her employment; secondly, by her husband.
Her maid, an Englishwoman, has declared that she will serve the Countess no longer. She will give up her wages, and return at once to England. Being asked her reason for this strange proceeding, she insolently hints that the Countess's service is no service for an honest woman, since the Baron has entered the house.
The Countess does, what any lady in her position would do;she indignantly dismisses the wretch on the spot.
'My Lord, hearing his wife's voice raised in anger, leaves the study in which he is accustomed to shut himself up over his books, and asks what this disturbance means. The Countess informs him of the outrageous language and conduct of her maid.
