Mar. My dear! to-morrow is the first of September. Isn't it far more likely Count Fosco has come here for the shooting?
Laura. Not he! He has just taken a furnished house in St. John's Wood. I heard him say to Sir Percival that it was very inconvenient to him to leave London at this time. There are strange stories afloat, Marian, about the count. Among those friends of ours whom I met in the Isle of Wight, one was my cousin, the Queen's messenger, just back from Vienna. Sir Percival happened to mention Count Fosco's name in his hearing, and what do you think my cousin said?
Mar. (looking nervously towards the drawing-room). Don't repeat gossip, Laura! Don't listen to scandal!
Laura. Scandal at Vienna, and gossip in London, say--in certain diplomatic circles--that the count is a Spy.
Mar. For Heaven's sake, be careful what you say of the count! I wouldn't have him your enemy or mine for the whole world. (She looks towards the drawing-room, and sees FOSCO putting the birds back in the cage.) Hush! Meet him civilly if he comes out into the garden.
Fosco (taking a gaudy silk handkerchief from his pocket and covering the cage with it.) The performance is over--the curtain falls! (To MADAME FOSCO.) How good you are, my angel, to indulge me in these follies of mine! I am nothing but a great big child, dressed up to look like a man. (He gives MADAME FOSCO his arm.) See the lovely moonlight in the garden! Madame Fosco, I invite you to enjoy it! (He leads MADAME FOSCO out, and sees LAURA and MARIAN.) Ah! the one thing wanted to complete the picture--the two dear ladies.
(He drops his wife's arm and advances towards MARIAN.)
Laura (making an excuse to get out of his way). The heat quite overpowers me, Marian. I must rest a little on the sofa.
(She lies down on the sofa under the verandah, and sinks into slumber as the dialogue proceeds. A ray of moonlight falls on her face and bosom.)
Fosco (to MARIAN, waving his hand over the scene). The [38]earth sleeping spell-bound in the stillness of the night! What unwritten poetry is above us and around us at this moment! You feel it--I feel it. Dear lady, there is communion of soul between us. I am so happy!
(He lifts MARIAN'S hand to his lips. MADAME FOSCO, who has watched the COUNT jealously from the moment when he approached MARIAN, interferes.)
Madame F. Pardon me, count, your foreign familiarities are not understood by Englishwomen.
Fosco. Pardon me, my angel. (He kisses his wife's hand.) The best and dearest Englishwoman in the world understands them! (Producing his sweetmeat-box.) Chocolate à la vanille. Have a bonbon! (He puts back the box, and then notices LAURA on the sofa.) Ah, look! (He points to LAURA. The orchestra marks the situation, which has its purpose later in the act, by low music played while FOSCO and MARIAN speak their next words.) What a charming picture! What modest grace in the repose of the limbs! What tender brightness in the light on her face and bosom! (He takes MARIAN'S hand again.) How shall we describe her, Miss Halcombe? (MARIAN can neither answer nor move. She can only look at him and listen.) The Sleeping Beauty of the old story. Titania, the fairy queen of your illustrious Shakspeare. The guardian angel of the house, dreaming good dreams of heaven. The dear, the interesting, the beautiful Lady Glyde. Ah, what a loss for Percival! Why does he not see her as we see her now?
Mar. Let me go, count! (She snatches her hand away--draws back from him--and continues aside.) What spell is there in his touch? What influence is there in his voice? He has set me trembling from head to foot!
(The music ceases. FOSCO attempts to join MARIAN. MADAME FOSCO interposes once more.)
Madame F. (bitterly). You appear to forget, count, that I am here!
Fosco (carried away by his enthusiasm). Madame Fosco! you are down on the earth. I am up in the clouds. My soul soars above the trivial domestic details of life. I am drinking deep draughts of beauty in this intoxicating garden. Lift yourself to my elevation! Drink with me! [39](MADAME FOSCO attempts to answer. The COUNT speaks aside to her in a suddenly altered tone.) Silence, madam! Are you master or am I? (He looks sternly at his wife.)
Madame F. (humbly). You are master.
(Her head drops. She stands submissive and trembling before her husband. MARIAN observes the scene with astonishment.)
Mar. (aside). He can tame anything--the gentlest and the fiercest creatures alike! The canaries obey him in the drawing-room. The jealous woman obeys him here! (MADAME FOSCO turns to leave the garden. MARIAN advances to stop her.) I can't be left alone with him! (She addresses MADAME FOSCO.) Madame Fosco, the count spoke of Sir Percival just now. Do you know where he is?
Madame F. Sir Percival is engaged, Miss Halcombe. His lawyer has unexpectedly arrived from London.
(LAURA rouses herself on the sofa, and looks towards MARIAN.)
Mar. (aside). Is there anything wrong?
Fosco (interpreting her thoughts). Yes, Miss Halcombe, there is something wrong.
Mar. (resenting his interference). I asked no questions, count. I don't understand you. (LAURA raises herself on the sofa, and looks towards them. MARIAN joins her.) Have you rested? What do you say to a stroll in the garden?
(LAURA rises. They go out together on the right.)
Madame F. (humbly). Am I pardoned, count?
Fosco (giving her his hand). For the future, respect me in my moments of exaltation. In those moments I forget my anxieties--I breathe freely once more.
Madame F. Can I do nothing to relieve your anxieties? I have been of some use to you in the past. Remember when we were alone with Anne Catherick in the summer-house at Limmeridge! I helped you to tempt her into revealing Sir Percival's secret. I hid her from discovery by Sir Percival and Miss Halcombe, who were both looking for her. Are you still anxious about Anne?
Fosco. I have no fear about Anne. She is in hands that I can trust--she is safely hidden in London. My anxieties are all centred in this house. I see clouds rising on the [40]domestic horizon. I see a coming collision of interests between Miss Halcombe and Me.
Madame F. (satirically). Is Count Fosco afraid of Miss Halcombe?
Fosco (aside, taking a turn on the lawn). Count Fosco is afraid of himself! Magnificent Marian, at the ripe age of sixty I adore you with the volcanic ardour of eighteen! All the gold of my rich nature is poured out at your feet. Alas for my wife! My wife gets nothing but the shillings and the pennies!
Madame F. (following FOSCO). Relieve my suspense! You see clouds rising in the domestic horizon. What do you mean?
(SIR PERCIVAL opens the study door, with a paper in his hand.)
Sir P. (calling from the study). Fosco! where are you?
Fosco (to MADAME FOSCO). You hear that voice? Percival shall tell you what I mean. (He turns towards the house and calls back.) Here--in the garden.
(SIR PERCIVAL advances into the garden.)
Sir P. There's no time, Fosco, for preparing my wife's mind. (He holds up the paper.) She must sign this tonight.