The Lottery of Love by Pierre Marivaux

Author:Pierre Marivaux [Pierre de Marivaux & John Fowles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571339242
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2017-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

It just shows how impudently they think about one, in their own vulgar minds. I’m trembling all over. How they humiliate you! As if I should be attracted by a manservant! It’s unbelievable, her arrogance.

Enter Richard.

(Aside.) But it’s not his fault, poor young man. Whoever else, I mustn’t be angry with him.

Richard Louisa, however coldly you think of me, I must speak. I think you’re being very unfair.

Sylvia Mr Brass, I’d prefer you not to call me Louisa any more. Please?

Richard If you insist.

Sylvia Nor look at me like that.

Richard It’s only how you look at me.

Sylvia I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking.

Richard Never mind. Let’s behave as we can. We needn’t feel embarrassed with so little time left to see each other.

Sylvia Is your master going? That’s no great loss.

Richard Nor my going as well – isn’t that what you meant to add?

Sylvia I’d have added it myself, if I wanted to. I wasn’t thinking of you.

Richard I think of you. And nothing else.

Sylvia John … I mean Mr Brass … listen, once and for all, whether you stay or you go or you come back, it must be all one to me. It really is all one to me. I wish you no harm, I wish you no good. I don’t hate you, I don’t love you, I shall never love you … short of going mad. That’s how I feel, how reason says I must feel. And I ought never to have told you even this much.

Richard If only you knew how unhappy you make me. I’ll never have peace of mind again.

Sylvia (with marked tenderness) You must come to your senses. You speak to me, I answer. That’s already far too much, you must believe me. If you knew, you wouldn’t be angry with me, you’d realise how remarkably kind I’m being – so kind I’d blame it in another woman. It’s not that I blame myself, because my heart tells me that what I do is meant for the best. Pure charity, in fact. But it can’t go on, it’s the kind of charity that’s only innocent if it’s done quickly, in passing. And if it went on, it’s somehow not in my nature to be sure it would remain innocent. At the end it might be like … nothing else in this world. (More formally.) Mr Brass, we must end. I beg you. It can’t mean anything, we’re making fools of ourselves. Come. Not a word more.

Richard Oh my darling Louisa, how I suffer …

Sylvia You said I was unfair just now – in what way?

Richard It’s nothing. Only an excuse to see you again.

Sylvia (aside) How can I answer that? Even if I lost my temper, he’d still feel the same.

Richard When she left just now, your mistress accused me of prejudicing you against Mr Richard.

Sylvia She imagines things. If she talks of it again, you can deny it to her foolish face. I’ll take care of that.

Richard The least of my cares, alas.

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