TRIBOULET (_taking the
lifeless
body in his arms and
hugging it to his breast_): I have killed my child!
hugging it to his breast_): I have killed my child!
World's Greatest Books - Volume 17 - Poetry and Drama
BLANCHE: It was my fault . . .
Forgive me . . . father, I----
[_She struggles, speechless, in the agony of death. _
TRIBOULET (_shrieking_): Help! Help! Oh, help!
[_Rushing to the ferry-bell by the riverside, he rings it
madly. The people in the cottages around come running
out in wild alarm. _
A WOMAN: What is it? Is she wounded?
A MAN: She is dead.
TRIBOULET (_taking the lifeless body in his arms and
hugging it to his breast_): I have killed my child!
I have killed my child!
FOOTNOTES:
[L] Victor Hugo was a man with a remarkable aptitude for
divining the real course of popular feeling and giving violent
expression to it. It was this that made him one of the leaders of the
modern republican movement in France. Precluded by his earlier works
from attacking the monarchy openly, he set about discrediting it by
a series of historical plays in which the French kings were depicted
in a sinister light. In "Marion de Lorme" he holds up the weakest of
the Bourbons to bitter contempt; in "The King Amuses Himself" ("Le roi
s'amuse"), produced in 1832, he satirises the most brilliant of the
Valois--Francois I. The portrait is a clever but one-sided piece of
work; it is based on facts; but not on all the facts. It is true that
Francois used to frequent low taverns and mix in disreputable company,
but he was also the most chivalrous king of his age, and a man of fine
tastes in art and letters. Nevertheless, the play is one of the best
of Victor Hugo's by reason of the strange and terrible character of
the king's jester, Triboulet. This ugly little hunchback is surely a
memorable figure in literature. The horror and pity which he excites
as he sits by the river in the storm and darkness, rejoicing in the
consummation of his scheme of revenge, have something of that awfulness
which is the note of veritable tragedy. The scene is a superb example
of dramatic irony.
The Legend of the Ages[M]
_Conscience_
Cain, flying from the presence of the Lord,
Came through the tempest to a mountain land;
And being worn and weary with the flight,
His wife and children cried to him, and said:
"Here let us rest upon the earth and sleep. "
And, folded in the skin of beasts, they slept.
But no sleep fell on Cain; he raised his head,
And saw, amid the shadows of the night,
An eye in heaven sternly fixed on him.
"I am too near," he said, with trembling voice.
