maurice maeterlinck - the cave of illusion (four acts, play) 1900 transl alfred sutro

7/30/2019 Maurice Maeterlinck - The Cave of Illusion (Four Acts, Play) 1900 Transl Alfred Sutro

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Uniform ivith this f^olume, 31. Sd. net.SECOND EDITION

Aglavaine and SelysetteA DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS

BYMAURICE MAETERLINCKTranslated by

Alfred SutroWith an Introduction by

J. W. Mackail

London : GRANT RICHARDS9 Henrietta St., Covent Garden, W.C.


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The Cave of IllusionA Play in Four Acts

ByAlfred Sutro

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BYMaurice Maeterlinck

LondonGrant Richards

1 900All rigltts reserved


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Printed by Ballantvne, Hansok &> Co.At the Ballantyne Press


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PREFACELa 'piece qvJon va lire appartient a un gemre ingrat etdifficile, mais il semble bien que ce genre soit au-jmird'hui le mains aHiJiciel, le plus mvant, le pliMsincere, et qui sail 1 le seul qui reponde a toutes lesrealites, et surtout aux plits hautes, de notre vie.L'experience nous montre qu'il n'est plus possible de/aire de bonnes tragedies. Po/rcourez toute la litteratiirede la seconde nioitie de ce siede, vov^ vHem, trouverezprobablem&nt qu'une qui ne tombera pas dans Voubli,c'est I'Atalanta in Calydon de Swinburne. II est vraique c'est moins une tragedie qu'un grand jxtems lyriquedialogue. Uautre part, la piece poetique, qu'eUe sepresente sousforme de dra/me rom/imtique ou de fa/ntaisMlyrique, se fait extrhmmemi ra/re. Depuis la perioderomantique anglaise et fran^ise, si je mets a part lespoemes de WagTier qui n'appartiennent pa^s a laliUerature proprement dite, mais d la jnusiqusquelle est la ^w'(?ce poetiqv^ qui ait reellement vecuqui nous ait revele da/ns les actions et les passions desIwnvmes une beaute, une grandeur ou un charms lyrique


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vi PREFACEinconniis ? Quelle est ceUe qui ait marque dans Vhistoirelitteraire, qui ait eu une influence durable et dont onse souvienne ? Si Von mJinterrogeait serieusement surce point je ne pourrais guere citer que " Pippa Passes "de Browning, et encore faudrait-il dire que ce poeTne nedemeure poeme tout en etant neuf, reel et actuel, quepa/rce qu'il n'est pas cL propi'ement parler une piece dethedtre, attendu qu'il est probablement impossible de leporter sur la scene.La poesie est-elle morte ? Loin de ld,,je suis persuade

que la litterature du Tnoiide civilise, et surtout celle deI'Angleterre, a compte dans la demiere periode de cemede, plus de poetes de premier ordre quJdle n'encompta jam^iis, la periode Elisabetheenne exceptee.Mais la poesie au sens habituel du termiC, ce que nousentendons spedalement par ce mot '^poesie " quand nousle pronow^ons en nous m^mes: la beaute verbale, la trans-Jiguration des etres et des choses, Vagrandissem^ntsurhumuin et un peu a/rbitraire des passions, desactions et des sentiments des hom/mes, rhumanisationde la nature, d'C, la poesie proprement dite, sest eloigneedu thedtre. J'ai donne aiUeurs les raisons qui mepa/raissent expliquer cet eloignemsnt ; et il serait troplong de les reproduire id. Au/ond, il vHy en apeut-etrequ'une:


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PREFACE viiencore un compte Men exact, mais qui est po'obablementI'evolution la plus considerable qui aitjamais eu lieudans le domaine de la pensee. Cette evolution, si ellene nous a pas encore donne sur la matiere, la vie, ladestinee de Vhomme, le but, Vorigine et les lois deVunivers, des certitudes definitives, nous a du moinsenleve ou rendu presque impraticables un certainnombre d'incertitudes, et ces incertitudes etaientpredsement celles oil se complaisaient et ouJleurissaientlibrement les pensees les plus hautes. Elles etaient, parexcellence, Velement de beaute et de grandeur de toutesnos allusions, laforce mysterieuse qui elevait nos parolesaudessus des paroles de la vie m'dinaire, et le poetesemblait grand et profond, a pivportion de la formeplus ou moins triomphante, de la place plus ou moinspreponderante qu'il savait donner ct ces incertitudesbelles ou effrayantes, pacifiques ou hostiles, tragiques ouconsolatrices.La haute poesie, cl la regarder de pres, se compose de

trois elements pQ'indpaux : Uabord la beaute verbale,ensuite la contemplation et la peinture passionnee de cequi existe reellement au dehors ou au dedans de nous,c'est-ct-dire la nature et nos sentiments, et enjm,enveloppant Voeuvre entiere et creant son atmosphereparticuliere, I'idee que le poete sefait de VincoTvnu dcmslequd floUent les etres et les chases qu'U evoque, du


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viii PREFACEmystere qui domine et juge ces etres et ces choses etpreside a leurs destinees. II ne me parait pas douteuxqite ce dernier element est le plus important. Voyez unbeau poeme, si href, si rapide quHl soit. II est tresrare qu,e sa beaute, sa grandeur soit puremsnt exterieureet limitee aux choses connues de notre monde. Neuffois sur dix il les doit ct une allusion aux m,ysteres desdestinees humaines^ a quMque lien nouveau du visible ctI'invisible, du temporel d, Vetemel. Or, si I'evolutionpeut-etre sans precedent qui se produit de nos jours dansI'idee que nous nous faisons de Vinconnu, ne trouble pasle poete lyrique et ne lui enleve rien, il n'en va pas dememe pour le poete dramatique. II est parfaitementpermis au poete lyriqu^ de deineurer un simpletheoricien de Vinconnu. II peut s'en tenir aux ideesgenerates les plu^ vastes et les plus imprecises. II n'apas a se preoccujfer de leurs consequences pratiquss. S'ilest convaincu que les divinites d'autrefois, qu lajustice ou lafatalite ne se mMent plus aux actions deshommes et ne dirigent plus la marche de ce monde, iln'a pas besoin de donner un nom auxforces mysterieusesqui interviennent toujours dans notre vie et dirigenttoute chose. Que ce soit Dieu ou Vunivers qui luiparaisse vaste et terrible, peu imports, nous lui de-mandons seulement qu'ilfossepasser en nous I'impressionvaste ou terrible qu'U a ressentie, Mais le poete


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PREFACE ixdraniatiyne ne pent pas s'en tenir a ces yeneralites. Uest oblige de/aire descendre dans la vie reelle, dans lavie de tons les jours, Videe quHl sefait de Vinconnu. IIfaut qvHl devienne en guelqice sorte le praticien dumystere. II faut qu'il nous montre dê qv^lle faôn,sous quelle forme, dans quelles conditions, dJapresqudles lois agissent sur nos destinees les 2îssancessuperieures, les influences inintdligihles, les loisprofondes, dont, en tant que poete, U est persuadeque Funivers est rempli. Et comme il est arrived un moment oii loyalement il lui est d peu prresivapossible dJadmettre les anciennes, et ou celles quiles doivenfit rem,placer ne sont pas encore fvxees, n'ontpas eticore de Twm, ne sont pas encore visibles, Uhesite, tdtonne et nose pas sortir du refuge de lapoesie lyriqvs.U ai'rive neanmoins qu'il tente et qu'il reussisseune de ces sorties perilleuses, car la haute poesie estavant tout le royaurrve de Vimprevu, et des regies les plusgenerales surgissent,comme desfragments d'etoiles quitraversent un del oii Ton n'attendait aucuiie luenirdes exceptions deconcertantes. Et dest alors LaPuissance des Tenebres de Tolstoi qui pa&se sur lefleuve le plus banal de la vie inferieure, comme un Hotflottant, ten Hot d'hoo'reur grandiose et tout ensanglantede fuTnees infemales, mais enveloppe av^si de Venwine


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X PREFACEJlam/me blanche, pure et miraculeuse qui jaillit de I'dmepo'imitive d'Akim. Ou> Men, ce sout les Revenantsd'Ibsen, oil eclate dans un salon bourgeois, aveiiglant,etouffant, affolant les personnages, Vun des plus terriblesmysteres des destinees humaines. Nous a/vons beaunous ferrmr d, Vangoisse du mystere, dans ces deuxdrames interviennent des puissances superieures incon-testables et que tous nous sentons plus ou mains pesersur noire vie. Car c'est bien moins Vaction du Dieudes Chretiens qui tious trouble dans le poeme de Tolstoique VojCtion du Dieu qui se trouve dans une dmehuraaine plus simple, plus juste, plus pure et plusgrande que les autres ; et dans le poeme dÎbsen cêstVinjluence dUune loi de justice ou dHnjustice recemmentsoupônnee et formidable, la loi de Vheredite ; loi peut-etre discutable, mais si mal connue et en mem^ temps siplausible que son mystere enorme et menagant cache laplus grande portion de ce qu'on y pourrait onettre endoute. Mais, en depit de ces eruptions inattendues deI'enigme qu'on croyait endormie, il n'en est pas moinswai que le m,ystere, Vinintelligible, le surhumain,Vinfinipeu importe le nom qu'on lui donneestdevenu si peu maniable depuis que nous n'admettonsplus k priori Vintervention divine dans les actionshv/maines, que le genie lui-msme in!a pas souvent deces rcTicontres heureuses. Quand Ibsen, dans d!autres


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PREFACE xidramea, essaie de rdier d. dJautres m^steres, les gestesde ses hommea en maZ de conscience exceptionnelle oude sesfemTYies kalltocinees, Ufaut convenir que si Vatmo-s'phkre qu'il parvient dt, creer est etrange et troublante,elle est rarement saine et respirable, parce qvlelU estrarement raisonndble et reelle.N'en peut-on pas conclure que le genie se heurte idd qu^lque chose qui ressemble fort d, rimpossible, et que,

dans le dessarroi actuel du mystere il ne parvient plus,ne parvient encore qu^exceptiomiellement d, /aire agirsur la scene les puissances souveraines qui existenttoujours, qui ont change d'apparence ou de nom, maisauxquelles, dans la realite de la vie, nous som/mes aussitotalement soumis qvJautrefois ? Dans le temps, legenie d, coup sHr et tresfrequerrvment le talent, reussissaientil nous downer au thedt/re cet arrierefond d'enigme,ce nuage des cimes, ce courant dJinfini qui semhle7iecessaire pour que Vobum'e dramatique soit avssi com-plete qu'une autre omvre d!a/rt, et pour lelsv&r, sinonau niveau, du moins jiisqu^d, Vatrnosphere 6]Hamlet,dJCEdipe roi et d'Antigone, ou a la hauteur dlun roman,d'un recit histoirique ou d'un poem lyriqu^ de premierordre. Cela ne montre-t-ilpas que laforme dramatiqueest en ce moment la forme litteraire la plus ingrate, laplus deconcertee, et la plus difficile ? II se peut que cetteMsitation et cette difficidte ne soient que passageres


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xii PREFACEet que sapproche le jour oil Von parviendra a rattacherde nouveau d, de grandes lois universelles, les passions etles actions sceniques de Vetre humain, mais, en attendant,nous aurions tnatwaise grdce a nous plaindre que despoetes excellents ne realisent pa^s aujourd'hui ce qu^onsemhlait realiser assez facileifnent autrefois, ou qv!ilsechxuent la oii le genie le plus incontestable a echouelui-meme. II serait inju^te, par exemple, de nous dire,en presence de tragedies bourgeoises du genre de cellequ'on va lire : oui ce sont Id, d'honorables tentatives.Elles sont interessantes, profondement humaines.Elles agitent des passions bien reelles, des inquietudesnecessaires, des pensees salutaires, mais il y manqueneanm^oins ce que nous demandons ct, I'ceuvre de premierordre, ce point de vite quHl faudrait peut-efre prendrehors de la vie a^ctuelle, ce je ne sais quoi de dominateuret d]assure, ce fond ou ce surcroit dHnteret et de beauteinepuisable auxquels nov^s ont a^ccoutumes les grandspoetes de tous les temps. II y manque notammentrintervention de ce troisieme personnage, mysterieux,invisible mais partout jjresent, quon pourrait appelerle personnage sublime, qui 7i'est peut-etre autre choseque I'idee inconsciente et inexprimable, mais forte etprofonde que le poete se fait de I'univers, et qui donne ala vie un sens fecond et eternel et d, I'ceuvre unesignification et tone ampleur qui ne perissent pas.


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PREFACE xiiiH est vrai que cela y nvaruiue, rrvais ceLa rrianque un

peu partoni. Nous aommea d, un rruyment ou nouscommenrôns peut-etre dt, avoir une idee, maia oii nousvHavons pas encore un sentiment syntMtique auquelnous puissions rattacher les joies et les malheurs denotre existence. On ne s'ere aperôit pas trop dans la vie,car dordinaire on s'y contente dexplications instinctiveset vagvS. On s'en aperrôit moins cruellement dans lalitterature generale : romans, histoire, poeme, oil U estplus facile de nous donner le change par de belles parolesabondantes et indecises. Mais sur la scene oil tout seramasse, se concentre en un instant, s'illumine et seprecise, le vide laisse par le depart des dieux et desgrandes pensees de justice, desperance ou de fatalite estenomve et penible. Pourtant il est salutaire de lemontrer et loyal de ne pas le peupler de fantdmes.

Une piece com/me The Cave of Illusion, si les choses yetaient unpeu plus poussees a Vextreme, si le personnageprincipal, am lieu detre une sorte de demi-rate qui,au/ond, ne saurait avoir aucicn droit, etait par exempleun grand savant stir la voie dune decouverte essentieUc)et place (par des circonstances qui ne sont peut-etrepas imaginables) entre son devoir de savant et son devoirdkomme, une piece, comme The Cave of Illusion,representerait tres exactement lasituation du haut thedtredaujourdhui. UaiUeurs, telle qu'eUe est, elle n'en


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xiv PREFACEcaracterise que mieux ce thedtre, qui, jusquici ne portspas encore tr^s hardiment les prohlemes les plus im-portants sur les demiers sommets oh I'ou pourrait tenterde les resovdre une fois pour toutes, ou mmitrer claire-ment qu'ils sont insolubles. (Test dire que quand jeparle du haut thedtre d'aujourd'hui, je parle plvtotd'une tendance ou d\tne possibilite que d'une realisationsatisfaisante. C'est dire aussi que les restrictions queje fais sont dJordre general, concement le " genreplutdt que la piece en question et ne diminusnt en rienla tres haute estime oil je tiens The Cave of Illusion.Cest jHirceque ce drame me parait d, hien des points devue le type presque parfait dio meilleur drame m^demequHl permet de generaliser les observations qu'il faitnattre. Si j'avais entenda ne m,'occuper que de la pieceelle-imme et non du moment interessant qtieelle rpresentedans Vhistoire du thedtre, j'axirais eu peu d, critiqusr etbeaucotip a louer ; entre autres choses, la precisionprompte, simple, forte et si naturelle du dialogue oilpas une repHique nest superjiue, la verite, la vieextraordinaire, concentree et pourtant abondante de laplupart des caracteres : les deux fem/mes, la vieille merecertains comparses, d'c, et enfin des scenes comme lavisite de Gabrielle ci Clara, et celle oil la destinee deDavid et de Gabrielle se decide et se voit tout entiere,dans une minute sUencieusemfient tragiqu, d, travers la


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PREFACE ,xvfragUe transparence d'une porte-/enetre qu'une mainmalveUlante a re/ermee sur eux. . . Peu de choses, quaeje sache, dans noire thedtre actiiel sont plios poignantes,plus mesurees, plus precises, pltcs simplevient et plushumainementfortes et doidouretises. . .

Mais pour revenir au "moment" qvs The Cave ofIllusion, avec laplupart des bonnes pieces d'aujourd'hui,represente dans revolution du thedtre, quy Ort-il aucentre de ce drame f Une qttestion d la/jvjeUe mi pourraitpeui-etre tres raisonnahlement repondre parce qu^eUe nevient pas de la hauteur plus ou moins inaccessible cCoueUe aurait pu venir, mais d, laquMle, si die etaitmieux posee il devrait etre a peu pres impossible cferepond/re. Cest la le caractere de nos prohlemes morauxsuperieurs. H en est peu que twus soyons d, mhne deresoudre en ce moment, livres que novs sorrvmes pourTinstant, et depiiis trop peu de temps, apres une longueet consolante tutelle, d, nos propres lumieres et d nospropres forces. Or, une qtiestion c'eat un vide. Autre-fois, durant la periods dassique ott romantique, dansce vide, ou edt mis un Dieu, une loi sumaturdle, undevoir hier&ique mais aveugle, une esperance certaine,une providence incontestee, et, ct defaut du reste, lafatalite. Naguere on y eAt mis une question d, laqudleon aurait repondu dlavanoe (les questions aniocqueUetou peut repondre ainsi sont d'ordinaire de tres petites


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xvi PREFACEquestions) et c'est la pi^ce ct, these. Pltcs pres de nousencore, on rHy aurait mis ni question ni reponse. Onaurait volontairement ignore les problemes qice Tincidentsovleve et on se serait borne ct, masquer le vide inquietanten axxwmvlant tout autour des propos aussi sceptiques,aussi naturdlement vulgaires que possible ; et c'etit etela piece realiste proprement dite.

II est certain qu^U y a ici une evolution tres curieuseet un pas vers le mieux. Evidemment, notes sonvmesenclins a regretter les beaux et grands fantomes quianimaient rinexplicable. Mais lorsque vient le jour, Une faut plus songer aux fantdmes de la nuit. Ce n'estpas qu'il soit bien certain que nous nous trouvions dansla lumiere du jour, ni meme que cette lumiere approche;mais enfin twus croyons assez fermement que nous nousy trouvons ou du moins que la nuit n'est plus la meme.Des lors ce que nous avons de mieux hfaire, en attenda/ntqu'u/ne OAdre nuit revienne ou, que jaillisse la clarte in-contestable, dest de ne plus nous meler aux fantdmes dela nuit dont nou,s nous croyons sortis, et surtout de neplus admsttre qu'ils dirigent nos passions, nos sentim^entset nos pensees, qu'ils empietent sur nos droits et nousdechargent de nos grands devoirs. Le mystere n'est pasm,ort, les puissances superieures sont etemelles puis-qu'elles constituent la vie et la volonte de I'univers etqu'il est impossible de concevoir que I'univers perisse.


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PREFACE xvtiNoita croyona savoir qu'elles ne aont pas aux liettx oilnous rums imaginions quelles residaient mais 7u>u8 neSavons pas encore oii elles resident ni ce qu'elles veidenULe plus honnete est done de ne plus retourner anix lieuxon nous sorrvmes persicades qu'elles ne sent pas., de neplus leur /aire /aire ce qv^ nous sommes convaincusqu'elles n^/ont pas, mais d^aUer cb leur recherche lit oilU nous semble que rums a/vons le phis d'espoir d'entrouver quelque trace, c'est-drdire en Twtis-memes, avecFaide des claries nouvelles que des lois universeUesquine sent peut-etre pas plus sHres qv^ les anciennes, maisqui pour Finstant nous paraissent plus plausihlesjettent sur notre etre moral. Peu importe que nous nou^trompions une/ois de phis. Ceux qui viendront apresnous pro/teront de noire erreur pourvu que nous Vayonsaimlee d'assez honne/oi pour la pousser ju^qu' au boui;car au boui cFune erreur sincere et desinteressee il y atoujours vme verite utile. (Test la voie honnete oiisemile s'engager le havi thedtre moral d'aujourcFhui.H est possible qve par d^autres voies on atteigne unebeaute phis prompte, phis seduisante ou plus consolante;il n'en reste pas mmns que la beaute la plus belle et laphis salutaire doit etre celle dont on s'approche par leavoies les plus loyaies,

MAURICE MAETERLINCK.


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THE PERSONS OF THE P L JYDavid HollesdaileMb. MolyneuxGenebal WilliamsMe. HopkinsonGabrielleClaba HollesdaileMrs. HollesdaileMrs. MellissektLady PattersonMbs. HopkinsonHannahTopus


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONTHE FIRST ACT

The drawing-room in Mr. Molyneux's house, abuttingon Begent's Park. The apartment is lavishlydecorated, hut thefwmiture and appointments bearevidence rather of wealth than taste. There is adoor on the right, leading to Mrs. Molyneux'sboudoir; another on the left, opening into theentrance-haU. At the back there are Fr&tixihwindows leading to the ga/rden which surroivrulsthe house. It is an afterrwon in June. Mr.MoLYNEUX stands by the sofa, with one foot uponit, reading a note. He has just come in, a/nd isstill wearing his hat. He is a very fair, youngishman of thirty-eight; clean-shaven, with cold blueeyes and a stony, impassive expression. His voiceis pleasant and musical. A Footman comes infrom the hall, ushering General Williams, a

A


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2 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONtall, handsome old man, very soldierly and erect inhis hearing, with vigoi'ous, decisive speech. As heenters Molyneux looks up, removes his hat, andcrtishes the note into his pocket.

Footman.General "Williams.

[He retires,[The General nods curtly to Molyneux, and

ignores the half movement to shake handson the part of the latter.

Mr. Molyneux.[Cheerfully.^ Ah, Generalhow are you ?

General Williams.[Somewhat ah'uptly.] I'm all right. Where's

GabrieUe?Mr. Molyneux.

I don't know. I've only this moment come inmyself.

General Willla.ms.They said she was at home.

Mr. Molyneux,We'll see. [ffe rings.] Lovely weather, isn't it ?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION $Gbneeal Williams.

Very.[Re sits. A Footman enters,

Mb. Molyneux.Is Mrs. Moljmeux in ?

Footman.Yes, sir, in the boudoir.

Mb. Moltneux.Have you told her General Williams is here ?

Footman.No, sir; Mr. Hollesdaile is with her.

[The General makes a movement, whi


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4 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONFootman.

Yes, sir.\He crosses the room, and goes through the

opposite door.

General WiiiLiAMS.Were you unaware of this ?

Mr. Moltneux.What, my dear General ?

General Williams.Gabrielle's closeting herself in this fashion with

Mr. Molyneux.With Mr. Hollesdaile ? Oh yes. He comes every

day, I believe.General Williams.

IndeedMr. Molyneux.

He's a very interesting fellow, you knowa greatnovelist, they say. And your niece has profoundadmiration for genius.

General Williams.[Angrily. '\ Psha!

\The Footman retwms*


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 5Footman.

Madam sends her compliments to General Williams,and hopes he won't mind waiting a few minutes;Mr. Hollesdaile is just finishing a chapter.

Me. Molyneux.Very well.

[The Footman retires.General Williams.

\B(njmding with indignation^ Upon my word[Molyneux laughs lightly; the General awingarov/nd.]That makes you laugh ?

Me. MolyneuxWhy not ? He reads his stuff to heras it pours

out^hot from his magnificent brain. He probablytells her she inspires him, and all that sort of thing.General Williams.

And does he hold her hand while he reads ? That'susual, I believe, with these writing fellows

Me. Molyneux.[Muck amused,] Oh, as to that, you had better ask

GabrieUe.


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|6 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGeneral Williams.

You are curiously tolerant, Mr. Molyneux.Mb. Molyneux.

We live in a tolerant age.General Williams.

So you see no harm in a fascinating young womanof twenty-seven being closeted day after day with thisliterary jackanapes ?

Me. Molyneux.None. No harm whatever.

General Williams.Admirable !

Mr. Molyneux.You see, my dear General, I unfortunately do notwrite novels, but am a mere prosaic City man. The

City does not interest your niece. Mr. HoUesdailedoes. General Williams.

I see. And you approveMr. Molyneux.

Why not? I am a great believer in friendshipbetween the sexes.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 7General Williams.

Yes^you have a remarkably childlike and un-suspecting disposition. The shareholders in thecompanies you have promoted have more than oncecommented upon it.

Mb. Molyneux.[Blithely.] The average shareholder is a grasping

creature, who invariably howls when he loses hismoney.

General Williams.[Looking rou7id.] You] have made good use of hismoney

Mb. Molyneux.[Genially. 1 I do what I can, General, I do what I

can. [The Genebal rises impatiently, and walks upand down. Molyneux surveys him benevolently, andproceeds to draw on his gloves.] This poor man Holles-daile appears to worry you ; but, really, there is nocause. Why should I deny Grabrielle a little innocentamusement ? We have no children ; our tastes aredissimilar ; we have, unfortunately, had diflferences, asyou know. Under these circumstances it is surelybest that we should allow each other considerablelatitude. I claim no right to interfere in my wife'sfriendships


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8 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGeneral Williams.

So long as your wife does not interfere with yourseh ? Does MissI forget the name of your presentSultanawrite novels too ?

Mr. Moltneux.[With a pleasantly deprecating smile.^ Really

General Williams.Smilethat's rightsmile

Mr. Moltneux.How else would you have me meet so shocking an

insinuation ?General Williams.

[Stopping in his walk and facing Moltneux.] Iappear to afford you considerable amusement,Mr. Molyneux?

Mr. Moltneux.I am afraid, General, that you persist in misunder-

standing me.General Williams.

Because I decline to regard it as your generositythat enables Gabrielle to compromise herself with thisman?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 9Mb. Molyneux.

[Pausing as he was about to button his glove.] Com-promise ?

General Williams.[TFiiA rising indignation.] I know you better, my

friend ; you are a careful schemer ; your wife is in theway ; you would like to get rid of her j you have vaguehopes of a divorce.

Mr. Molyneux.[Bla7idly.] What an imagination

General Williams,And so you hold the door open. You are very un-

suspecting, but you keep a careful watch; you seethis intimacy growing, and you chuckle to yourself.Your conduct is a scandal, sir ; a scandal and a dis-gi-ace, and you deserve to be horsewhip ped

Mb. Molyneux.General

General Williams.[Stepping close to him.] No airs with me. MasterMolyneux ! You induced my niece to run away with

you eight years ago, and she has had seven years andeleven months wherein to repent her folly I You've


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10 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONhad differences, have you ? I know something of thesedifferences I "When I found the wretched girl on mydoorstep, not a year after her marriage

Mr. Molyneux.[With compute self-control.] You brought her back !

General Williams.YesI brought her backI have regretted it

often enough ! But I hoped that you might reformthat the child about to be bom might alter you.Me. Molyneux.

[Calmly.] A man may expect some mercy from hiswifeI met with none. You brought her back ; wehave since lived separate lives. That was not mydesire. The child diedwe became more and moreestranged; that was not wholly my fault. Yourniece's love was a very fleeting thing, my dear General,and after her treatment of me I don't pretend to anyprofound attachment for her.

General Williams.Her treatment of you

Mr. Molyneux.But of her reputation I am still the careful guardian


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THE CA VE OF ILLUSION Itbelieve it or not. You mentioned the word " Com-promise " in connection with her. Am I to under-stand

Genebal Williams.\Tv/ming on hits heel.] You can understand what

you please. Mr. Molyneux.Your violence to-day is evidently due to some

report you have heard.[The General goes to the bell and rings

violent^/.]

Mb. Molykeux.[Quietly.] You may rely upon me to do what is

necessary.[Footman comes in.

General Williams.Tell your mistress I am still waiting.

Footman.Yes, sir.

[He crosses the roomy amd retires ihrowghthe opposite door.Mr. Moltneux.

You will excuse me^I must go to the City,


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X2 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGeneral Williams.

[Testily.^ You can go to the Devil.[Mb. Molyneux smiles, takes up his hat, throws

open the French window, and passes out.The General paces restlessly to and jro ;another Footman comes in from the hall,ushering Mrs. Mellissent. She is ahandsome woman ofthirty, veryfashionablydressed.

Footman.Mrs. Mellissent.

[He retires.Mrs. Mellissent.

^Holding out heir hand.^ My dear Generalwhat adelightful surprise ! You are usually invisible in theafternoonthey say you devote it to being manicuredand having your fortune told. Where is Gabrielle ?

\The Footman returnsfrom the boudoir.Footman.

Mrs. Molyneux begs you to forgive her, sir ; shewill be with you in two minutes.

General Williams.Very well.

[The Footman retires.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION XJMrs. Mellissent.

[Sitting.] Oh, she's still with Mr. Hollesdaile ?They're late to-day.

General Williams.[Sitting opposite her, and trying to conceal his annoy-

ance.] Are you an admirer of his, too ?Mrs. Mellissent.

Of coursewe all are ! A geniusand handsomeand shysuch a rare combination ! What womanwouldn't wish to have such a head to play with ?

General Williams.Can't you get a scribbler of your own ? They're so

plentiful

Mrs. Mellissent.[Merrily.] It's hard on you, of coursebut swords

have had their dayand we love the smell of inkAnd seriously, Mr. Hollesdaile's very clever ; he's theonly one of them all who understands us women.[The General chiockles.] Why do you laugh ?

General Williams.Because I'm sixty-five.


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X4 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONMrs. Mellissent.

That's no reason. When I am sixty-five^which Ihope I never shall beI shall weep. Don't you like-his women ?

General Williams.I'm proud to say I don't know them.

Mrs. Mellissent.You tell me unblushingly that you haven't read hi&

books ?General Williams.

I do.Mrs. Mellissent.

And the Board School rate a shilling in the pound .'But, of course, you cling to the fossilsFielding,Thackeray, and so on.

General Williams.They knew something of human nature, I fancy,,

those fossUs.

Mrs. Mellisent.Of their day, General^but women were very

different then^they were in the chrysalis stage.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION l$General Williams.

And noware they all butterflies ?Mrs. Mellissent.

The butterfly is a far more mysterious creature thanyou imagine.

General Williams.I've run pins through many a hundred of them in

my time.Mrs. Mellissent.

You'd have learned far more from simply watchingthem fly

General Williams.We limit ourselves to that when we're old, and

can't run.Mrs. Mellissent.

And the woman of to-day doesn't care for havingpins run through her heart ! . . . Ah ! she's a verydifferent creature from your Sophia Westerns andLaura Bells!

General Williams.She is, with a vengeance ! She has put her natural

instincts to pawn, to buy farthingsworths of culture f


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XO THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONMrs. Mellissent.

[Very amuaed.] And what may those natural instinctsbe, dear Marcus Aurelius ?

General Williams.[Very earnestly.] To bring children into the world

and feed them with her milk ; to cherish them in herheart and train them with her soul.

Mrs. Meljlissent.We'll do aU that by electricity soon, General

[The General tur^s away rather angrily; aFootman comes in with Mr. and Mrs.HoPKiNSON an ordinary, vulgar-lookingman, and a feebly pretty, simpering womanofforty.

Footman.Mr. and Mrs. Hopkinson. [He goes.

Mrs. Hopkinson.[Shaking hands with Mrs. Mellissent.] Alice

[she shakes hands with tlie General.] How are you,Generalmy husband, Mr. Hopkinson GeneralWilliams. Where is Gabrielle ?

Mrs. Mellissent.Mr. Hollesdaile is finishing a chapter.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION ifMrs. Hopkinson.

He's not gone yet ? Oh, I do hope she'll bring himin here! How lovely for her, isn't it? Fancy hissitting there before you, reading his day's worklooking at you with those great eyes of his, and askingyour opinion. I should die of fright

Mbs. Mellissent.[To the Gembbal.] There I And Minnie's a publisher's

wife!Mrs. HoPKiNSoir.

It was I introduced him to her. She owes me adeep debt of gratitude, doesn't she ? Such a privilegeto have a man like that for an intimate friend

General Williams.Think what a thrice-blessed being his wife must be

[The ladies smile.] He has a wife, has he not ?Mrs. Hopkiksok.

Yespoor thingGeneral Williams.

You know her ?Mrs. Hopkinson.

Oh, I called^just to see what she was like. Such aB


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i8 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONdowdy ! And could only say yes and no, and didn'tthink this and wondered the otherand had a childor two trailing behind her all the time ! She's a lotolder than he is, you tnow. VerT/ sad, isn't it ?

General Williams.Why?

Mrs. Hopkinson.These poor fellows all marry the wrong sort of

women, you see, when they're very young, just tohave a home ; and it does seem hard that they can'tput them away afterwards and make them a decentallowance, doesn't it ?

General Williams.[Snorting.'] Very ! A man who writes bookshow

wonderful ! You can't expect such a godlike creatureto do his duty, like the rest of usMrs. Mellissent.

The dear General's always nailing his flag to themast and expecting that this day each man shall dohis duty

General Williams.And why not ?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION tgMbs. Mellissent.

We're all Free Traders nowadays, and want theduties taken off!

Mbs. Hopkinson.Oh Alice

Mb. Hopkinsoh.[To the Genebal.] But as for Mr, Hollesdaile, sir,

you will allow me to say that he really is a veryextraordinary person, very. And a rare instance ofgenius being at once appreciated by the public

Genebal Williams.You are his publisher, eh ?

Mb. Hopkikson.I'm proud to say I've brought out every one of his

books. I recognised his stupendous ability from thestart. Don't you admire him, sir ?

Genebal Williams.Profoundly.

Mbs. Mellissent.Wicked warrior! You haven't read a word of

his!


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One cannot but admire an author whose publisherspeaks of him in such terms.

Mb. Hopkinson.No better than he deserves ! Why^the edition deluxe limited to a thousand copiesis at fifty per cent.

premium on the market alreadyGeneral Williams.

Which is Fame.Mr. Hopkinson.

Well, if it isn't, I'd like to know what wasMrs. Hopkinson.

Here is Gabrielle[Gabrielle enters from th^e door on the right.

She is a tall, slender woman of twenty-seven, with dark flashing eyes, a/nd massesof coal-black hair. Her face at times seemslifeless, colourless, null; but 1M wterepassage of a thought that interests hersuddenly endows her inegular featureswith a strange and almost bewilderingfascination. She shakes hands hurriedly


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 21uoith Mrs. Hopkinson and Mes. Mellis-SENT, nods to HoPKiNSOsr, and goes toGeneralWilliams with outst/retched ha/nds.

Gabrielle.My deax uncle, I am so sorry to have kept you

waiting. But you will forgive mej I really couldnot get away, though I wanted to, ever so much.It's such a long time since I've seen you. Wherehave you been ? You are not angry with me ?

General Williams.[Quietly.] Where is the great man ?

Gabrielle.He begged to be excused ; he has been reading for

two hours ; his head achedGeneral Williams.

H'm. . . .HOPKINSON.

[Eagerly to Gabrielle.] You like it ?Gabrielle.

The finest thing he has done.Mrs. Mellissent,

Has he found a name for it ?


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Sa THE CA VE OF ILLUSIONGabbielle.

The Soul of a Woman."HOPKINSON.

[Sententiously.] That's a good title.General Williams.

Very ; and so startlingly original ; it smacks of adiscovery. How old is your genius, Mr. Hopkinson ?

HOPKINSON.About thirty-five, I think.

Mbs. Mellissent.The dear General doesn't think that men should

write about women till they are sixty-five.Gabbielle.

[Laughing.] The men or the women ?Mbs. Mellissent.

The menMrs. Hopkinson.

Fancy making a woman of sixty-five your heroineGenebal Williams.

Is that so ludicrous ?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION S3Mbs. Msllissekt.

Pathetic ! After, let us say forty-five, there isnothing left for a woman but to become a grandmother, and grub among the heap of ashes known asdomestic virtues. . . A rapid descent from thesublimeto the chaperone[A Footman enters ushering Lady Pattebsok,

a very thin, parched, faded woman,elaborately painted and powdered.

Footman.Lady Patterson.

[ffe retires.Lady Pattebson.[Volubly.] Dear GabrielleI can't stop a minute

how are you, General-^ah, AliceGeneral, I'm gladto see you looking so wellGrabrielle, I've come toscold you ; I've just been at poor Lady Clara'swhyhave you refused the stall at her bazaar ?

Gabrielle.Because I am weary of bazaarsbut why poor

Lady Clara?Lady Patterson.

[Sitting.] Oh, my dear, haven't you heard? Soawkward, just when she's bringing out this bazaar,tool


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24 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGabrielle.

I've heard nothing

Lady Pattekson.Oh it seems there has been an awful scene. But

really she was too imprudent

Mas. Mellissent.[JDemureh/.] Is it Mr. Hamilton or the French-

man?Lady Patterson.

Mr. Hamilton . . . Sir Joseph intercepted a letter-people toiU write letters ! . . . They say he struckhimabsolutely struck him ! It has been hushed upfor the sake of the childrenand we none of us speakof it. . . .

Mrs. Mellissent.Poor Lady Clara! . . . How fortimate that she

still has M. de Grandville !Lady Patterson.

[PrudisMi/.] My dear Alice. . . . You really aretoodecadent. . . . But this bazaarGabrielle, we


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 25must have youwe mustdon't shake your head ! Ipromised that I would persuade you. Alice has astall, you know By the way \to Mas. MELLissEirr]what is it you are selling ?

Mbs. Mellissent.[Demur^.^ Gentlemen's underclothing.

Lady Patteeson.What!

Alice!

Oh!

Gaebielle.

Mes. Hopkinson.

Mrs. Melussent.I shall have three sizessmall, medium, and tall.

Everything sweetly done up in pink and blueribbons.

Lady Patteeson.[Shaking her head.^ Very daring, I must say

Mes. Melli8SE1?t.In the cause of charity ! I want to get as near as

I can to the heart of manwherefore I offer himvests.


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36 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONLaj>t Patterson.

H*mwellsome people are very . . . introspective. . . nowadays ; I prefer to be superficial myself, atleast in the way of clothes. . . . But, Gabrielle, tellme that you'll take a stall. We count on you.

Gabrielle.Mr. Molyneux will send a cheque.

Mrs. Mellissent.You see Gabrielle has no sins that need re-

covering !Lady Patterson.

[With intention.] I suppose Mr. Hollesdaile doesn'tapprove of bazaars. ... In which caseof courseHow is your . . . er . . . friend, Gabrielle ?

Gabrielle.He's very well, thank you.

Lady Patterson.Quite the man of the hour ! Have you seen the

book some one has written about him, " The Art ofDavid Hollesdaile " ? [In a sly whisper to Gabrielle.]Not the heart, my dearyou could write about that IHal ha!


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THE CA VE OF ILLUSION ayMrs. Mellissent.

I met a funny little German professor yesterdaywho had been translating him, and vowed he wasour greatest writer sincesincesome one or otherwhose name I forget, and indeed had never heardbefore

Lady Patterson.Gabrielle's pleased ! But I don't think it's right of

the great man to make her drop her old friendsdoyou, Alice ?

Mrs. Mellissent.She can't drop meI've too much bounce ! [She

riees.] Well, I must be going. Good-bye, Gabrielle jwill you give me some dinner to-morrow night ?

Gabrielle.Of course.

Mas. Mellissent.My daughter's home from school, and I must have

an evening off after being maternal all day. Good-bye, General.

General Williams.Good-bye.


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28 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONMrs. Mellissent.

[To the General.] You shake hands coldlyas abrewer might with a temperance lecturer. I amafraid I have shocked you.

General Williams.[Politely.^ By no means.

Mrs. Mellissent.My remarks may seem a little decoUetie at

first ; but they never take the air without an elderlymoral hurrying behind them. In fact, I am a womanwith a missionto record the follies of the hour.

General Williams.Like a Parliamentary Blue Book ?

Mrs. Mellissent.Blue Book or Yellow Book, as you pleasebut not

a bad book, if you would take the trouble to read thefirst chapters. Will you come to my stall ?

General Williams.Certainly; and I will try to read between the

ribbons.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 29Mrs. Mellissent.

Doand search for the symbol ! Gk)od-bye again,GabrielleLady Patterson.

Lady Patterson.[Rising.] I am going tooperhaps I can drive youmy carriage is here. Good-bye, GabrielleI am

very angry, remember, and you can tell Mr. Holles-daile so. Good-bye, GeneralI shaU hope to see youat my stall toothough I am not so modem, orsymbolic, as Mrs. Mellissent ; / only sell flowers.

Mrs. Mellissent.[Who has shaken hands with the Hopkinsons.] And

you the fairest rosebud of them all ! Good-bye, good-bye!

[She carries off Lady Patterson; theygo out together.

Mrs. Hopkinson.[To Hopkinson.] Are you coming, Charles ?

Mr. Hopkinson.I would like just one word with Mrs. Mol3meuz.

[To Gabrielle.] May I ?


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Certainly.[Mrs. Hopkinson retires to the back of the

room and sits beside the General.Mr. Hopkinson.

[To Gabrielle.] I know the interest you take inour friend |Hollesdaile, and the influence you haveover him. I am anxious to say something to you.

Gabrielle.Yes?

Mr. Hopkinson.I may speak to you quite frankly, may I not ? You

and I areerGabrielle.

Well?Mr. Hopkinson.

[Drawing his chair close to hers and speaking veryconfidentially.] He's going to the bad, Mrs. Molyneux

Gabrielle.What do you mean ?

Mr. Hopkinson.I've arguedI've begged and prayed but it's no

useno use at all.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 3XGabeielle.

I really am quite at a loss toMb. Hopkinson.

It's like this. You know how his first four or fivebooks soldwe couldn't print 'em fast enough. Theygave him a big reputation. Between you and me hehas been living on that reputation ever since and haspretty nearly exhausted it.

Gabrielle.Surely not

Mb. Hopktnson.He changed his style in his last two books; his

style, his manner, his subjectsand the public ain'twith him ! " Children of Fire "that was last year'swent poorly ; but " The Poet's Prayer " is a deadfailure ; dead as mutton already, and it hasn't beenout three months

Gabeiellb.But you advertise the seventh edition ?

Mb. Hopkixson.That means nothingI haven't sold out the

second ! I must boom it, to help oflf the edition deluxe^ which, between you and me, drags terribly.


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3a THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGabriellb.

I'm sorrybut how can I help you ? Those lasttwo books have made him famous ; they're known allover Europe.

Mr. Hopkinson.Oh yes, I know thatbut that don't help to sell'em here. Clever people may rave about 'em; but

clever people have no money to spend on books. NoMrs. Molyneux, he's out of touch with his market."Whenever I meet him he talks about Art. Now that'sa bad way for a man to get into

Gabriellk.[Amtised.] Very.

Mr. Hopkinson.He says he's not writing this book for me, and

hopes I'll refuse it ! That he don't care a dump whetherit sells or not ! When a man's in a state Hke that hewants a friend badly.

Gabrielle.So you]wish me to

Ma. HoPKiNSON.Get him back to his earlier mannercynical,

brilliant society talkwith a touch of^you know !


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THE CA VE OF ILLUSION 33He can make his thousands a year ! But I tell youif we have any more books like these last two, it's allup with David Hollesdaile

Gabbielle.[Eising.] You mean you won't publish for him any

more?Mr, Hopkinson.

[Risivig.] I can't! I'm losing money! Now tellmehe's been reading to you ?

Gabbielle.Every word

Mb. Hopkinson.Yesand ?

Gabbielle.

Of course I can't speak to you about it ! But Ithink you are very amusing.Me. Hopkinson.

[Taken aback.'] Amusing ! I scarcely expected youwould look at things in that light

Gabbielle.I value Mr. Hollesdaile's reputation more than

your profits, Mr. Hopkinson.


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J4 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONMe. Hopkinson.

[Sov/rlj/.\ Very well, ma'm, you'll help to ruin him,that's all. I've done what I could. Minnie

[Mrs. Hopkinson comes up, after havingsaid good-bye to the General.Mrs. Hopkinson.

Good-bye, Gabrielle.Gabrielle.

[Rings the bell.] Good-bye, Minnie. Come againsoon. Good-bye, Mr. Hopkinson.

[Hopkinson bows, and goes off with his wife.Gabrielle.

[Moving towards the General.] What do you thinkthe funny little man wanted of me ?

General Williams.[Grimly.] I am wondering whether the conversation

in your drawing-room is usually up to the high moraland intellectual level of to-day ?

Gabrielle.[With a smile.] Poor uncle ! I was afraid you were

not enjoying yourself ! . . . Alice lets her tongue runaway with her. She is a good little woman, reallythe best of them all


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 35General Williams.

So that to-day was above the average ?Gabrielle.

[Moving restlessly to and fro.^ You should hearthem on my At Home days ! Scandal, and horses,and gold mines ! You know what sort of people comehere. Men with prospectuses, who are proud ofhaving seen " The Belle of New York " twenty times,and their wives, who are proud of their husbands 1But fortunately I don't see so much of them now.

General Williams.[Meaningly.'\ Since you have formed this extraor-

dinary intimacy with Mr. HoUesdaile ?Gabrielle.

[Laughing.^ My dear uncle, don't scowl at me likethat ! Extraordinarywhy ? I've spoken of him.

General WilliamsI understood that he came as an ordinary visitor.

Gabrielle.We are friends. Are you not glad that I havesuch a friend ? you who know what the others are

like. You are angry with me for having kept youwaiting.


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I am angry with you for allowing this person tomonopolise you.

Gabbielle.\Going to the General and sitting hy his sideJ\ Iwant you to meet him. You and he have much in

common. He is good, too. And his mind is beautiful.I listen to him day after day. I sit there and listen.I hear the same chapter over and over again, perhaps,and watch it through all its changes, as his thoughttakes deeper root. And his thoughts are unlike thoseof other men.

General Williams.You are curiously enthusiastic.

Gabrielle.Yeswhy not ? Need you wonder, you who know

how terribly, crushingly empty my life has been ?General Williams.

Your life has been what you chose it to be.Gabrielle.

A woman never chooses. As a girl she wants to behappyshe has a wild craving for happinessshelooks up, and she sees a man. . . . And after that.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 37her horizon narrows day by day, till at lastat last... If only my child had lived ! . . . But at least Ihave found a friend !

General Williams.[liising impatiently. \ Yesyou have found a friend IGabrielle,There is sympathy between us. He is alone, too.

General Williams.So this noble creature runs down his wife to you ?

Gabrielle.Uncle ! That is not generous. There is no question

of running down. His wife does not understand himthat IS all.

General Williams.And you do ?Gabrielle.

We have much in common. We are both a littlebruised by lifewe both are sensitiveperhaps weboth dream dreams. . . . And Ihave you ever goneout after a storm, and seen a flower that has almostbeen wrenched from its stembut the sun comes out,and the warmth and gladness revive it, and it once


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38 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONmore struggles to live. ... I am like that. I ambeginning to forget, beginning to hope Oh be gladof this friend of mine !

General WilliamsHe comes here every day ?

GabrielleYes.

General Williams.And you are always alone with him ?

GabrielleOf course. Could he talk, could he read his work to

me, before the women you saw here ?

General Williams.You have had men friends before

Gabrielle.They made love to metheir friendship was a sham.

I had almost grown to believe that men were all brutesat heart.General Williams.

And he is so unlike the rest ?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 39Gabriellb.

His mind is almost feminine in its purity. Heforgets my sex. When I am with him I find myhardness and bitterness melting away. I am adifierent woman. I realise there is something to doin the world, something to live for. . . . Why do youlook at me like that ? Why refuse to believe in thifriendship of ours ?

Genebal Williams.[Slowly and emphatically,] Because I do not believe

in you.Gabbielle.

[Eising and moving away.] That is a cruel thing tosay. . . .

General Wiluams.Is it not justified ?

Gabrielle.No.

General Williams.Should I not know you, I who brought you up

from a child ? I was a lonely man and I loved you.One night I came homeyou were gone.


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I was a childunconsciousa creature of instinctMadly in loveand with no mother to guide me. . . .And have I not been punished enough ?

General Williams.Then you left himoh I'm not making excuses forhim ! But the man was repentant^you might have

forgiven.Gabrielle.

There are some things a woman can never forgive.General Williams.

I patched up a truce between youyou insisted onone condition.

Gabrielle.Yes.

General Williams.That is seven years agoI hoped you would changebut you did not. You were selfish and hard then,

as you are to-day. . . . Oh, I tell you the truth ! Youmight have forgivenhave looked for, and fostered,the good that there must be in every man

Gabrielle.Some women might have done itI could not ! I

am not a good woman perhaps ; you say I am selfish


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THE CA VE OF ILLUSION 41and hard ; but my suffering had been too great. . .Oh why drag up this miserable past ; why harrow menow with all that is gone ?

GKNBEAii Williams.Because I wish you to give up this friendship ofyours.

Gabbielle.[Stopping dead short.] To give it up

Geneeal Williams.There is only one end to an intimacy of this kind.

Gabbielle.What do you mean ? We are friends. We shall

always remain where we are.Geneeal Williams.

The man has a wife, has he not ?Gabbielle.

Yesof coursewhat of her ?Geneeal Williams.

Are you conscious of no injustice to her in bindingher husband to your footstool ?


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4a THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGabrielle.

Uncle, uncle, all this is absurd^the merest con-vention ! What wrong am I doing his wife ?

General Williams,Shall she be indifferent to the report that you are

her husband'smistress ? [There is silence ; Gabriellestares at him, petrified, v/aahh to 8peak.\ I heard itto-day. It is common talk, they tell me

GaBRIELLEiImpossible, impossible. . . ,

General WilliamsiThat Lady Patterson, with her innuendoshe

believes it ; they probably all believe it

Gabrielle.No, no, they can't be so vile

General Williams.I have told you what people are saying. And your

course now is clear, You must break offat onceandentirely.

Gabrielle.{Feverishly.'] No,


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION iGeneral Williams.

What ! You wiU not ?Gabriellb.

No!General Williams.

And your reputation ?Gabrielle.

Those who know me know that this thing is a lie.General Williams.

And I, who aak it of you ?Gabrielle.

You cannot be so unjust.General Williams.

Shall I stand by and watch them all spit on you ?Because your life is empty must you paddle yourfingers in this man's brain ?

Gabrielle.Oh, listen to me, listen ! I swear to you that not

& word has passed between us that all the world mightnot hear


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Then why cling to him so passionately ?Gabkielle.

Because my life is blank without him; null; adesert and despair ! In all these years I have foundone friend^you bid me renounce him !

General Williams.Self, self, self ! You think of nothing but self

!

Your agitation at the mere thought of giving up thisblackguard shows what the intimacy would becomeif it has not already

Gabrielle.Then you do not believe me ?

General Williams.From the moment your reputation is in danger

Gabrielle.Oh, what a curse it is to be a. woman !

General Williams.Do your duty !

Gabrielle.[Passionately.] It was because of what people would


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 4Ssay that you carried me back to my husband, whohad made my own servant a mother! Because ofwhat people would say that I have dragged throughthese terrible years ! And now you come to me,with the same pitiful story, and bid me abandon myfriend

General Williams.[Sternly.'] Yes.

Gabbielle.[W%A sudden, fierce determination.] Uncle, I will

not. General Williams.Think.

Gabbielle.I will not.

General Williams.You refuse ?

Gabrielle.You have no right to ask it of me.

General Williams.For the last time

Gabrielle.Noand noand no !


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4* THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGeneral Williams.

Then good-bye.[He gathers up hat and stick, omd makes for

the door. Gabrielle turns pleadinglytowards him; the door opens, and theFootman enters with David Holles-DAILE.

Footman.Mr. HoUesdaile.

[The Footman retires . The General pausesfora/n instant ; looks hard at David ; thengoes.

Gabrielle.Oh why have you come back ?

David.\Wilh a merry laugh.] To tell you, to tell you

!

Gabrielle.What?

David.What ? Why that there are swans in the park, and

nursemaids, and perambulators ! Alsoa mere triflethat what I read to you to-day was wrongallwrongit troubled us both, did it not ? and that nowit is clear to me, crystal clear

!


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 4^Gabrielle.

[Faintly.] I am glad. . . .David.

Of course you are glad ! I have been wanderingabout since I left you, perplexed and disconsolate ; Icouldn't go home. And I lay on the grass, and halfclosed my eyes, and it came ! And I couldn't resistthe desire to run back here and tell you. Such atrifle, you knowa mere touchbut it makes all thedifference ! And do you know where the great flawis ? Just listenit's wonderfulit[He piUls out a notebook and opens t#.]

Gabeielle.[Stopping him with a gesture.^ Not nowplease

David.[Disappointed.] No? . . . It's trueI've worried

you enough for to-day. I'll go home and work ; youshall hear it to-morrow.

Gabrielle.No, no, you had better not come to-morrow.

David.[Eeproachfully.] Oh, Mrs. Molyneux! Have you


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48 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONbeen nmking an engagement for one of my after-noons?

Gabbielle.... I am afraid that you must not come here any

more at all. . . .David.

[Starting to his feet.] What ! You don't meanthat?

Gabbielle.Don't make it too hard for me. . . . You know how

1 value your friendship. . . . But we live in a muddy"world.

David.[Very earnestly.] Where you and I meet there is no

mud ! We meet on the mountain.Gabbielle.

But there are no people thereor at least veryfew ; and the rest look for us in the gutter, wherethey swear they have seen us. Or in plain Englishbut noI can't say it ! You are a man, and 1 ama woman ; and therefore we must not be friends.

David.[Very pale.] Your husband ?


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THE CA VE OF ILLUSION 49Gabbielle.

He ! . . . No. It was my uncleyou passed himjust now ; the one person on earth who loves me. . . .He has heard rumours.

David.Aboutus ? [Gabriellb nods.] Is there a creature

living who dares reflect on our friendship ?Gabbielle. '

Say rather is there one who believes in itDavid.

Mrs. Molyneux!Gabbielle.

My fault ! I was so eager to have you for friend 1I am hard and selfish, my uncle saysand it's trueI have only thought of myself. It was I who induced3'ou to call; and strove hard to interest youI was solonely ! And nowwe must say good-bye. . . .

David.No ! . . . Because of this idle gossip ? I will see

your uncletell himD


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50 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONGabriellb.

Will you stop the mouths of all the crawling reptileswho declare that I amyour mistress ?

David.My God

!

Gabrielle.And your wife ? She believes it too, perhaps ! I

have never thought of your wife. I pictured her tomyself vaguely, happy with her children, tendingthem, loving them. It never occurred to me thatshe could be jealous.

David.[ZTneasily.] Jealous ! Why should she be?

Gabrielle.Ah see ! You admit it ! . . . How cruel I have

been to her ! We must say good-bye to each other,you and I.

David.

And does it mean so little to you, this friendship ofours, that you can give it up so lightly ?Gabrielle.

It moans so little to me that I cannot even bring


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 51myself to think of the future. But yetit has to bedone.

David.Hear me too ! Of myself I say nothing^biit there

is my work, which is your work too ! . . . For youhave awakened a force in mea powerwithout youI am nothing ; I fall to the ground.

Gabrielle.You imagine all t his. . . .

David.Till I met you I worked as other men work ; but

nowI feel1 feeloh do not regard me as merelya braggart or foolbut since you have let me comehere, day by day, and see you, and hear you, I havebeen conscious ofI have had thoughtsoh I tellyou, give me time, give me courage, your sympathy,the light that shines from you, I will do such workthat men who know of us both shall fall on theirknees for shame of their villainous slanders !

'

Gabrielle.[Enthusiastically.] You will do the workoh Ihave no fear ! I know youam proud of you ! . .

But I must obeyand youmust consider yourwife.


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52 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONDavid.

Go to her ! Go to my wife ! See her, know her,be her friend, as you are mine ! [Gabrielle shakesher head loith a sorrowful smile.] She has not yourbrain, your poetry, but he too is noble and good.She will welcome you, love you. Is not this thesolutionthe answer to all ?

Gabbiellb.It is impossible.

David.I ask you to try.

Gabrielle.I might tryand she would try toobut it would

all be in vain. She could never forgive me.David.

For what ?Gabrielle.

For your friendship ... It would not be possible. . . And you know that too, in your heart . . . Letus say good-bye. . . .

David.Gabrielle, Gabrielle, I cannot.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 53Gabbielle.

Help me to do what is right. . . .[There is silence, as they star/id facing each other.

MoLYNEUX comes in quietly through theFrench window ; they both look up with astart.

Mr. Molyneux.[In easy conversational tones.] Ah Mr. Hollesdaile,

I have a word to say to you that it is as well Ifeihould say in the presence of Mrs. Molyneux. Heruncle has made certain representations to meitappears that your visits have been misconstrued. Iof course very deeply regretbut, for the sake of theconvenances

David.You desire my visits to cease ?

Mr. Molyneux.I must leave you to place your own interpretation

upon my wordsGabrielle.

[To David, in bitter anger.] My dear friend, you


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54 THE CA VE OF ILLUSIONwill tell your wife that I will call on her to-morrow atfour.

\^She holds out her hand, which David takes ; heturns silently to the door, Molyneux survey-ing them both with an indulgent smile.Gabeielle swings round and faces herhusband as the curtain falls.

CUBTAIK.


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THE SECOND ACT7%e study in David Hollesdaile's house. It is a

large and pleasant room, of irregular shape, witha painter's top-light, and a long, low vnndowwhich runs the whole side of the wall. Beneathit is an eighteenth century settle. There are twoor three old-fashioned oak tables, and variousmassive old Dutch and Flemish chain's. At thehack there is a door, which, when open, shows alanding and stairs leading upwards ; anotherdoor, on the left, which is curtained, leads to theinner rooms. The walls are lined with dwarfbookcases, filled with books ; above them are photo-graphs of Holbeins, Botticellis and Da Vincis.A large oil painting of the Madonna fills thecentre panel. An oldfashioned writing desk isplaced sideways in the centre of the room ; adjoin-ing it is a long, 7w/rrow, black oak table, coveredwith reviews, books andj manuscripts in picturesque


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55 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONdisorder. The floor is stained, and covered loithrugs. Hannah, an old servant, is dusting thebooks a/nd papers on the table. Clara entersqui^My from the inner door. She is a short, fairwoman of rather a squat figure, plainly dressed ina stuff gown, without any ornament ; her hair, ofa dull brown, which she wears parted down themiddle of her head, shows a streak or two ofgrey ;her features are heavy and ordinary, hut a raresmile lights up her face, and makes it almostattractive.

Clara.[Going hastily to Hannah.] You shouldn't have

touched the papers, Hannah ; you may have dis-arranged them.

Hannah.Master told me to tidy up the room, 'm.

Clara.You know how he hates having his papers touched.

Hannah.I've been very careful, 'm.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 57Clara.

We'll put the flowers here.[She takes some books off the top of the

writing-desk, andputs them on the table.Hannah.

Where are the flowers, 'm ?Clara.

Master's gone to fetch them.Hannah.

[Glancing up.] You're not looking well, 'm.Clara.

I've a headache; I've been lying down. ... IsMary with the children ?

Hannah.[Dusting the book-shelves.] Yes, 'm, and they're that

good ! A pity master don't see more of 'emClara.

. . . He can't stand the noise. . . .Hannah.

Poor little things, they don't dare to speak, 'ardly,when 'e's a-workin'. Bobby was crying, yesterday.


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58 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONwhen I went into the nursery ; he said he had sneezedthree times, and hoped father hadn't heard him !

[A ring.Clara.

There's a ring, Hannah. . . . Surely it can'tbe Hannah. 'Oh no, 'm, it ain't three yet.

[Hannah goes. Clara listens anxiously. Aftera moment, Mrs. Hollesdaile enters. Sheis a pleasant, motherly old lady, loith softgrey hair that still curls naturally over h&rtemples. Her dress is very neat and simple,hut worn almost to shabbiness ; she carriestwo or three parcels in her hand.

Clara.Mother ! This is a surprise ! \_She kisses Mrs.

Hollesdaile affectionately, and relieves her of herparcels.^ When did you come back from Eastbourne ?

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Slightly puffing from the stairs.^ Late last night,my dear. They wanted John at the office ; he had

to shorten his holiday. You're expecting a visitor,Hannah tells me ?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 59Clara.

Yes. . . . Mrs. Molyneux ; a friend of David's.Mrs. Hollesdailb.

[Indifferentli/.] Ah, and the children, Clara ?Clara.

They're all right, mother. Bobby's had a bad cold.Mrs. Hollesbaile.

Is it better ?Clara.

Oh yes, thanks.Mrs. Hollesdailb.

And my boy ?Clara.

David ? Oh David's very well.Mrs. Hollesdailb.

And tell me about the new book.Clara.

[After a moment's pause.^ He seems very pleasedwith it. . . .


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60 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONMrs. Hollesdaile.

I'm glad of that ! It's so seldom he's satisfied withwhat he's doing. And do you like it, dear ?

Clara.I ? ... Oh, I don't know. . . .

Mrs. Hollesdaile.How's that, Clara ?

Claba.I mean IIthe fact is I know nothing about it

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Very surprised.^ What do you mean ?

Clara.[Quietly, with sudden resolve.] I had better tell you,

mother. There has been a . . . change here thesepast few weeks.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.

A change ! . . . My dear Clara ! What hashappened ?Clara.

Ohnothing so very important, perhaps . . . but


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 6iyou know he used to read every line he wrote to meaoid now [She pauses.^

Mbs. Hollesdaile.Well?

Claka.He reads it all to her.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Her ? Who ?

Clara.The woman who's coming to-day. \A moment's

silenceJ] I hadn't meant to say anythingwhat's theuse? Theyare great friends ... he and she. Hegoes there every day and stops with her for hours.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.You haven't let him see that you

Clara.I'm afraid I broke down once or twiceI couldn'thelp it.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Ah !and


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62 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONClara.

He put it down to nerves . . .[SUeTice again ; Clara and Mrs. Hollesdaile

look steadily awayfrom each other.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Prodding the floor.'] And how long has this

Clara.He met her three months ago, just as he was

beginning this new book. . . . She wrote to himlettera were always coming from her. And heanswered. . . . And, little by little

Mrs. Hollesdaile.You never told me, Clara. . . .

Clara.Nohe has had fancies beforeI thought

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[ With enforced cheeriness.] Wellof course it means

nothing, my dear. ...Clara.

[Sising,] I'll show you her photograph.[Sfie goes to the desk, opens it, and from a


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 63dratoe)' takes out a photograph, which shehands to Mrs. Hollesdaile.

Mes. Hollesdaile.[Eea^iiig the inscription.'] *' To David Hollesdaile,

from his friend Gabiielle." H'm. . . . Did heClaea.

[With an embarrassed laugh.] Oh, noI . . . founditin his desk.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.It's rather a hard face . . . Well, I shall see her,

perhaps, if she comes soon.[She returns the photo, which Cla&a re-

places in the desk.Claba.

She'll be here at four.Mrs. Hollesdaile.

Aren't you going to put on that pretty grey silk ofyours, Clara?

Clara.No. I'm a plain, unattractive woman of thirty-six

with three children, whom I have nursed myself, anda house to look after and keep quiet while David is


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64 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONwriting ; and I don't pretend to compete with a finelady who hasn't a child of her own and with twentyservants to do the work.

Mrs. Hollesdailb.[Mildli/ reproachftd.] My dear Clara. . . .

Clara.[Bitterly.'] Oh I've no patience with that sort of

woman, mother ! They don't have children, or theywon't have childrenand they keep their figures andare handsome till they're sixtyand take away thehusbands from us honest ones who do our duty

Mrs. Hollesdailb.[Breathless.] Clara ! My dear ! I don't know you

Clara.[Rising.] I don't know myself, sometimes. . . . But

I feel it isn't right.

^Mrs. Hollesdailb.[JRising and going to her.] We mustn't exaggerate,

Clara. . . . You know very well that all this meansnothing.

[Claba compresses her lips and remains sHentt


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 65Mes. Hollesdaile.

Oh I know my boy ! You have been quiet aboutitvery rightlyand he never imagines that it evendistresses you. His love is so deep that he neverthinks others can doubt him.

Claea.[Half to herself.] His love

Mrs. Hollesdaile sits, takes Clara's hcmdandforces her into a chair by her side.Mrs. Hollesdaile,Whywhen he was at OxfordI'll tell you a little

secret of my ownI was just a little hurtI wasfoolish too, you seebecause we never saw his roomsthere.

Clara.Didn't he ask you ?

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Oh, yes, oftenbut Clara, dear, I had nothing to

wearand I couldn't disgrace my boy ! Only I hadhoped that he would eay " Come as you arenevermind the clothes," but he didn't ! And after mypushing and scraping for him from the day he wasborn almost, and saving out of my few shillings a week,


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66 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONand using every penny of Uncle William's legacy tosend him to Oxforr!and he my only child^why,Clara, I was so silly that night after night, whenJohn was asleep, I would cry, and cry, and cry. . , .

Claba.[N^odding her headi\ Yes

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Hastily.

"l But I soon realised how wrong I wasand unfair ! The boy didn't thinkthat was all. Itwasn't want of affection ! When I was ill, he rushednp to town and never left me till I was better. Helives in the clouds, you see ; he doesn't understand themental troubles that mean so much to us women !

Clara.Nohe can't understand them

Mrs, Hollesdaile.\EmpJwjtically.'\ But he has been a good son, my

dear, and a good husband, and he will to the end.His love lies very deep.

Clara.[Looking straight before herJ\ He has no love foi*

me. . . .


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Clara ! The mother of his children

Clara.We women love the father of our childrenit

doesn't matter so much to them. . . .Mrs. Hollesdaile.

[With uplifted hands.] My dear, my dear, this iswrong!

Clara.I have five hundred a year of my own. I am older

than heand plain. I don't say he married me formy money.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Clara, Clara

!

Clara.I make myself no illusions, mother ! We have been

happy so far because the one thing he cared for onearth was his work ; and there I was useful to him.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Usefulhis wife


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68 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONClaea.

I have been his slaveoh a glad and a willing oneHow many hours have I spent in this room, when hewanted to read to me ; and scarcely daring to breathefor fear of disturbing him ! I have never said no tohim. I have been his, to do what he liked with. Ihave spared him all trouble, all worry ; when I wasill, I had always a smile for him. And I was contentedthere was only his work . . . and I . . , till he metthis woman . . .

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Dear Clara, you have spoiled him a little, of course,

as I did toobut he has always been faithful andloyal

Clara.TUl he met this woman ! .

Mrs. HOLLESDAILE,[Rising in alarm.^ Clara !

Clara.[Passionately!] Oh, her fault more than his ! He

struggled, I know. It was she dragged him into thisfriendship


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But my dear, my dear, the mere fact of her comingto see you

Claka.To see me/ Why? Why does she come? Shemight have done that before. His manner was stiange

when he told me.Mrs. Hollesdaile.

What did yon say to him ?Clara.

Nothing. What is there to say? I showed \o\xher photograph. Look at me

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Putting her arms around her.] My dear, dear

Clara. . . .Clara.

This handsome, fashionable woman wants myhusbandwill arms like these keep him from her ?Oh mother, mother

[She drops her head on the old lady's shoulder.Mrs. Hollesdaile tries to comfort her;breezy footsteps are heard coming up the


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70 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONstairs, and David enters jauntily, carryingflowers. Claea breaks away from Mrs.HoLLESDAiLE, and turns to the bookcase atback.

David.[Heartily.] Why, old lady, this is a delightful

surprise ! [He kisses her affectionately.] And how wellyou're looking. Here, Clara

[He holds out theflowers without turning rownd.Mrs. Hollesdailb.

What lovely flowersDavid.

Aren't they ? They cost a small fortune. . . . Andhow is it you're back so soon? Here, Clara. . . .[Clara coTnes forward.] The old Italian vase, don'tyou think? And you'll be careful with them, won'tyou ? [As he hands her the flowers he looks at her.]Whatcrying ?

[Clara goes out quickly, carrying the flowers.

David.[In an almost aggrieved tone.] Have you been saying

anything to make her cry ?


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION flMrs. Hollesdaile.

[Smiling in spite of herself.] I ? No.David.

[Dismissing the subject lightli/.l^ Well, it's jolly tosee you back again, old lady ! You had intended tostay longer ?

Mes. Hollesdaile.Now that daddy's been made manager of the ofiBce,

they can't do anything without himand there'sbeen a sudden rise in sugar, so he had to comeback.

David.How is he ?

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Very well indeedwe've been away three weeks.

[She sits.] You've a friend coming, I hear ?David.

[With a quick look at her.] YesMrs. Molyneu?.Mrs. Hollesdaile.

And the new book, Davie ?David.

[Eagerly.] It's going to be fine, mother, fine ....


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72 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONif I'm allowed to finish it in peace. . . . I'm breakingnew ground doing something I've never evenattempted before

Mhs. Hollesdaile.Tell me about it.

David.I can't. I scarcely seem to know, myself. But I

see deeper into lifeinto all things. . . .Mrs. Hollesdaile.

Clara tells me she doesn't know anything ofDavid.

No, poor thing, and I'm afraid she feels it. But Ioan't help it, mother

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Mildli/.] Davie ! . . .

David.Don't think I'm indifferent, or callous. I'm not.

I know that it isn't only nerves that have made Claracry. And I'm sorry enough for it, too. But I daren'tlet myself think of it. I must have a tranquil mindfor this book of mine. Clara must make this smallsacrifice for me.


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 73Mks. Hollesdailb.

It's hard on Clara, Davie.David.

1 know that it's hard ; and she has been splendidnever a word of reproach. But I can't read to herjust nowyou see I've changedand how could sheunderstand ?

Mbs. Hollesdailb.You have changed ?

David.Mother, I feel like a man who for years has been

digging his potato field, and suddenly picks up anuggeton the field adjoining. You see ? And theworld wants gold.

Mes. Hollesdaile.Then it is yoxir new friend who has

David.Yes. ... I met her at the very moment I needed

her. . . .Mbs. Hollesdaile.

Who is she ?


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She is somebody's wife. We met by chanceit'sfoolish, perhaps, to call these things chance. She hashelped me immensely. Men teach us, you know, butwe learn from women. And such a woman

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Sorrotofrdli/.] Is she so clever, Davie ?

David.I don't know ; she's strange, magneticshe drawsout what is best in you. It's not what she says,

perhaps ; it's what she is that's so wonderfulMrs. Hollesdaile.

Wonderful ?David.

It helps me only to look at her ; it sets somethingfree in me. . . . See, this, is her photograph. . . .

[He goes to the desk, takes the photograph outof the drawer, and hands it to Mrs.Hollesdaile.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Looking at it.] " Gabrielle."


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 75David.

Yesit's a foolish name, that doesn't suit her. . . .She should be called Mary, Martha, somethingsimple, tranquil, vast. . . . Gabrielle's a Frenchname ; she isn't French, or even modem ; she's almostBiblicalthe Woman before the Fall.

Mbs. Hollesdaile.[Smiling as she hands hack the photograph,^ My dear

Davie, you are always the same ; you admire withseven-leagued boots

David.It sounds extravagant, of course; but wait till

you've seen herMbs. Hollesdaile.

[Rising, and gently taking his hand.^ Davie dear,don't forget Clara.David.

[In honest surpWe.] Forget Clara, mother ! Whatdo you mean ?

Mrs. Hollesdaile.She may not be Biblical, dear, but she is a very

good and noble woman ; and there is no greatertreasure on earth than her love for you.


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l^Latufhing heartily and embracing her.^ Oh you dear,sentimental, romantic old lady ? This comes of read-ing French novels ! Why Clara's my wife, is shenot ? Am I likely to forget what she's done for me,been to me? And mayn't I be grateful too for afriend like Gabrielle ?

Mrs. Hollesdailb.[Doubtfully.] But

"^David.Ah, mother, mother, be careful. . . . There must

be no suspicion^suspicion's too ugly. I couldn't tellyou the colour of Gabrielle's eyes or her hairI don'tlook at her that way ! You believe me ?

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Yesbut the future ?

David.This friendship of ours is a pure and a holy thing.

Let it grow, it will be like a tree, in whose shade wecan all sit, Clara too. But don't try to stifle or poisonit ; for that would be dangerous.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.[Almost beseechingly.] Davie, Davie


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THE CAVE OF ILLUSION 77David.

My work is my life, mother ; my work comes firstthere I must be free. . . . But comewe're takingtoo serious a toneand there's really no cause.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.I'm an old woman, Davie, old-fashioned, perhaps,

but stmDavid.

You're a malicious old ladythat's what you areand not half as sensible as Clara. Hark ! . . .There's the carriage. [He runs to the %oindow.^ FetchClaraquick

\Heflings open the door, and rushes downstairs.Mrs. Hollesdaile remains standing, andheaves a deep sigh ; but forces a cheer/tdsmile as Clara com^s in from the otherside. Clara is carrying the vase 0/flowers,which she places on the desk ; site hasdonned a handsome grey silk gown. Shelooks inquiringly at Mrs. Hollesdaile.

Mrs. Hollesdaile.Ah^you fiave changed, Clara

Clara.Yesit seemed more civil, perhaps. . . .


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78 THE CAVE OF ILLUSIONMrs. Hollesdaile.

[Patting her cheek.] You are very wise, my dear. . .And ClaraI have been talking with himyou haveno cause for uneasiness. It's only a brain-influenza,my dear, the heart's not affected ! Be nice to her,Clara!

[David enters with GabrieiJiE, and leadsher to Claea.

David.This is my wife, Mrs. Molyneuxmy victim1 am

" gey ill to live with ! "Gabrielle.

[Simply.] I am so so glad to meet you, Mrs. Holles-daile.

[They shake hands ; Clara's eyes arefixedon the ground.

maurice maeterlinck - the cave of illusion (four acts, play) 1900 transl alfred sutro

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