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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Andre-Louis!" she called him. And Scaramouche took the hand of that exalted being, just as he might have taken the hand of Climene herself, and with eyes that reflected the gladness of her own, in a voice that echoed the joyous surprise of hers, he addressed her familiarly by name, just as she had addressed him. "Aline!"
As for the rest of the company, they were disposed to be very kindly towards Scaramouche. It was almost as if in reality he had fallen from the high estate to which their own imaginations had raised him; or possibly it was because they saw the effect which that fall from his temporary and fictitious elevation had produced upon Climene. Leandre alone made himself an exception.
Although the scenario of "Lee Fourberies de Scaramouche" has not apparently survived, yet we know from Andre-Louis' "Confessions" that it is opened by Polichinelle in the character of an arrogant and fiercely jealous lover shown in the act of beguiling the waiting-maid, Columbine, to play the spy upon her mistress, Climene.
She shocked and stunned him by her virulently shrewish tone, and her still more unexpected force of invective. He sought to reason with her, and finally she came to certain terms with him. "If you have become betrothed to me simply to stand as an obstacle in my path, the sooner we make an end the better." "You do not love me then, Climene?" "Love has nothing to do with it.
He rolled forward with his ponderous yet curiously noiseless gait. Scaramouche turned to her, smiling, and handed her the candle. "If you will leave us, Climene, I will ask your hand of your father in proper form." She vanished, a little fluttered, lovelier than ever in her mixture of confusion and timidity.
You knew as well as I did that he never caught that trick of haughtiness, that grand air of command, in a lawyer's musty office, and that his speech had hardly the ring or his thoughts the complexion of the bourgeois that he pretended to be. And it was shrewd of you to have made him yours. Do you know that I shall be very proud of you yet, Climene?" She moved away without answering.
"All alone, my prince!" was her laughing greeting, which suddenly threw light upon his mental darkness. Climene had been disappointed of hopes that the wild imagination of these players had suddenly erected upon the incident of his meeting with Aline. Poor child! He smiled whimsically at Columbine.
Scaramouche, a little exalted at the moment by his success, however trivial he might consider it to-morrow, took then a full revenge upon Climene for the malicious satisfaction with which she had regarded his momentary blank terror. "I do not wonder that you ask," said he. "Faith, I should have warned you that I intended to do my best from the start to put the audience in a good humour with me.
The lovely Climene and lovely indeed she was tossed her nut-brown curls and laughed as she looked across at Andre-Louis. Her eyes, he had perceived by now, were not blue, but hazel. "Do not believe him, monsieur. Here I am queen, and I prefer to be queen here rather than a slave in Paris." "Mademoiselle," said Andre-Louis, quite solemnly, "will be queen wherever she condescends to reign."
Most critically was he conned by M. Binet and mademoiselle; by the former with gravely searching eyes, by the latter with a curl of scornful lip. "You'll do," M. Binet commended his make-up. "At least you look the part." "Unfortunately men are not always what they look," said Climene, acidly. "That is a truth that does not at present apply to me," said Andre-Louis.
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