BISHOP. This house does not demand of him who enters whether he has a name, but whether he has a grief. You suffer—you are hungry—you are welcome.
JEAN. I cannot understand it—
BISHOP. This house is home to the man who needs a refuge. So, sir, this is your house now more than it is mine. Whatever is here is yours. What need have I to know your name? Besides, before you told me, I knew it.
JEAN. What! You knew my name!
BISHOP. Yes, your name is—Brother.
JEAN. Stop! I cannot bear it—you are so good—
[He buries his face in his hands.]
[Enter MADAME with dishes for the table; she continues passing in and out, preparing supper.]
BISHOP. You have suffered much, sir—
JEAN (nodding). The red shirt, the ball on the ankle, a plank to sleep on, heat, cold, toil, the whip, the double chain for nothing, the cell for one word—even when sick in bed, still the chain! Dogs, dogs are happier! Nineteen years! and now the yellow passport!
BISHOP. Yes, you have suffered.
JEAN (with violence). I hate this world of laws and courts! I hate the men who rule it! For nineteen years my soul has had only thoughts of hate. For nineteen years I’ve planned revenge. Do you hear? Revenge—revenge!
BISHOP. It is not strange that you should feel so. And if you continue to harbor those thoughts, you are only deserving of pity. But listen, my brother; if, in spite of all you have passed through, your thoughts could be of peace and love, you would be better than any one of us.
[Pause. Jean reflects.]
JEAN (speaking violently). No, no! I do not belong to your world of men. I am apart—a different creature from you all. The galleys made me different. I’ll have nothing to do with any of you!
MADAME. The supper, your Reverence.
[The Bishop glances at the table.]
BISHOP. It strikes me there is something missing from this table.
[Madame hesitates.]
MLLE. Madame, do you not understand?
[Madame steps to a cupboard, gets the remaining silver plates, and places them on the table.]
BISHOP (gayly, turning to Jean). To table then, my friend! To table!
[Jean remains for a moment, standing doggedly apart; then he steps over to the chair awaiting him, jerks it back, and sinks into it, without looking up.]
SCENE III
TIME: Daybreak the next morning.
PLACE: The Bishop’s dining room.
* * * * *
[The room is dark, except for a faint light that comes in through window curtains. JEAN VALJEAN creeps in from the alcove. He carries his knapsack and cudgel in one hand; in the other, his shoes. He opens the window overlooking the garden; the room becomes lighter. Jean steps to the mantel and lifts a silver candlestick.]