Citoyenne!
THE MARQUISE
Citoyen—
THE MAN
Citoyenne, come!
Join our _ronde patriotique_, our _carillon_!
THE MARQUISE
Sainte Geneviève!
THE MAN
What?
A WOMAN (_her hand upon_ THE MARQUISE)
Where’s your cockade?
ANOTHER WOMAN
Show!
THE MARQUISE
_De grâce, Citoyennes!_
THIRD WOMAN
The cloak! The cloak!
[_They tear from_ THE MARQUISE _her hood and cloak_.
A CHILD
Oh, the pretty lady!
THE MARQUISE
I’ll give you gold!
There, there!—My rings, my brooch—take all!
Ah! let me peaceably depart—
THE MOB
Ha! ha!
Aristocrat!
A WOMAN
It is the emigrée
Clarice-Marie Miramand Blanchefôret!
Are not her gold locks known in Brittany?
ANOTHER
She fled to England.
A THIRD
She returned.
THE MARQUISE
O death!
(_To a woman._) Citoyenne, your cockade! I’ll wear it gladly,
Ay, o’er my heart I’ll pin it—
[_She takes the cockade from the woman and with
trembling fingers pins it to her gown._
THE WOMAN
Red cap as well—
THE MARQUISE
With pleasure, Citoyenne.
[_She places the bonnet-rouge upon her head._
THE MOB
Ha, ha!
A MAN
Now cry
_Vive la République!_
THE MARQUISE
_Vive la République!_
THE MAN
_Mort aux tyrans!_
THE MARQUISE
_Mort aux tyrans!_
THE MAN
_À bas
Les Aristocrats!_
[_Silence._
THE MOB
Ah—h—h!
THE MAN
_Vive la Guillotine!_
[_Silence._
A WOMAN
Take that!
[_She strikes at_ THE MARQUISE.
THE MOB
Down! Down!
[THE MARQUISE _breaks through the ring of men and
women and runs to_ SÉRAPHINE.
THE MARQUISE
I know your face!
You are a Morbec woman! Save me! Save!
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Servan! Saint Gildas! Saint Mériadek!—
Ay, madame, you should have stayed in England!
_Enter_ DE VARDES, _torn and bleeding_.
DE VARDES
De Buc taken and De Barbasan! Dieu!
The day’s not old. I’ll see them ere its close.
We’ll meet, I think, at Carrier’s judgment bar,
Then the dark river,—and then peace at last—
THE MARQUISE
_À moi, Monsieur le Baron de Morbec!_
DE VARDES
La belle Marquise!
[_He forces his way to the side of_ THE MARQUISE.
SÉRAPHINE (_from the church porch_)
Saint Yves le Véridique!
THE MOB
Both! Both!
A TRICOTEUSE
To prison with them!
ANOTHER
To the Loire!
Ho! ho! _Les Noces Républicaines!_
[_The mob surges forward, but with his sword_ DE
VARDES _keeps a clear space about him and_ THE
MARQUISE. _They move slowly backward to the
church steps, which they mount._
DE VARDES (_to_ THE MARQUISE)
We’ll smile and die!
THE MARQUISE
Together, yes!
THE MOB
Down! Down! Aristocrats!
[DE VARDES _sends a knife whirling from the hand of
a red cap_.
DE VARDES
Follow! Follow!
(_To_ THE MARQUISE.) I have been long in prison.
THE MARQUISE
In England I!—And there I pined for France—
This sunshine dazzles me—
DE VARDES
Clarice-Marie!
[_Trumpets within._
SÉRAPHINE
Hark! Hark, Citoyens, to the trumpets blowing!
THE MOB
She comes! Nantes’ goddess comes!
[_Faces appear at the windows of the tall houses._
A TRICOTEUSE
The windows fill!
[_The rolling of drums._
ANOTHER TRICOTEUSE
The drums begin to roll!
A MAN
Citoyens, all!
We’ll see best by the statue there!
ANOTHER (_pointing to_ DE VARDES _and_ THE
MARQUISE)
But these?—
THE FIRST
They’re safe! Let them await our pleasure! Peste!
We waited once on theirs!
A THIRD
That’s true!
[_The mob divides. Men and women cluster about
the base of the statue or upon the doorsteps of the
surrounding houses. Enter men with banners._
THE MOB
Look! Look!
The painted banners! _Vive la patrie!_
SÉRAPHINE (_to_ THE MARQUISE)
Hist!
Hist, madame! behind the pillar there!
[_She points to the pillar of the church._
DE VARDES
Go!
[THE MARQUISE _conceals herself behind the pillar.
A crash of music._
_Enter_ LALAIN _and_ NANON.
LALAIN
No blood to-day! I’d have clean sleep to-night,
Pure sleep and sweet, in which to dream of love!—
Hast seen her in her mantle blue?
NANON
Who stands
So steadfast there with a drawn sword?
LALAIN
Diable!
[_He makes as if to cross to the church steps, where_
DE VARDES, _sword in hand, stands with his back
against a pillar. The crowd comes between._
NANON
Patience, he’ll not escape!
LALAIN (_with affected indifference_)
It is as well,—
To her he’s but a ci-devant, and he,
O fool! shall see in her the Revolution!
Then, then, when she has passed, I’ll deal with him!
[_Singing within._
A VOICE
_With sandals on her feet,
The Phrygian cap so red
Upon her sunny head,
She comes, she’s coming sweet!
Reason, to whom we pay
All homage on this day!_
THE CROWD
The singers! The actors!
[_Enter actors and actresses of the Theatre of Nantes, dressed
as for the stage, and carrying garlands of paper flowers._
AN ACTOR
Way for Tartufe!
The Citizen Jourdain, Phèdre, Célimène,
Acaste, Armide, Aucassin, Nicolette!
Make way! Make way!
THE SINGER
_Upon her lofty car
She sits in solemn state!
Of day the lovely mate,
Of night the shining star!
Reason, to whom we pay
All homage on this day!_
THE CROWD
Brava! What now?
THE ACTOR
Voltaire, Rousseau, Franklin, Robespierre!
[_Enter a band of students drawing a garlanded float.
Upon the float the busts of Voltaire, Rousseau, Franklin,
and Robespierre._
THE CROWD
_Vive Robespierre!_
[_The Marseillaise. Enter Republican soldiers._
DE VARDES
Oh, for the red Hussars!
[_Enter four men wearing tricolour scarfs and plumes,
huge cockades, pistols and sabres._
THE CROWD
The Commissioners!
DE VARDES
Hooded crows!
[_There crosses the stage a float upon which is fixed a
miniature guillotine._
THE CROWD
Ha! ha!
_Vive la Guillotine!_
A MAN
_Vive les noyades!_
DE VARDES
Cold
Are thy baths, O Apollo!
[_Enter red-bonneted men and women dragging a tumbril
in which are heaped spoils of the church,—broken
images, crucifixes, candelabra, chalices, patens,
etc._
THE CROWD
Ha—h—h!
DE VARDES
Jesu!
[_He crosses himself._
[_Music. The great tricolour flag of the Republic is borne across the
stage._
THE CROWD
_La patrie! Vive la patrie!_
DE VARDES
France! France!
[_Stately music. Enter young men in Greek dress,
bearing a gilded framework upon which is fixed a
tall flambeau, wreathed with flowers. They advance
and place the structure before the church
steps._
A PEASANT
Brave! But what is it?
ANOTHER
The torch of Reason!
The Goddess lights it,—then we worship her!
A THIRD
No, we worship Reason!
THE SECOND
‘Tis the same thing!
[_Enter young girls clad in white, linked together
with tricolour ribbons and carrying osier baskets
from which they scatter flowers. They are followed
by children swinging censers, then by a shouting
throng drawing a triumphal car upon which sits the
Goddess of Reason. She is clothed in a white tunic
and a blue mantle; upon her loosened hair is a
wreath of oak leaves and she has in her hand a
light spear._
THE CROWD
Reason! Reason!—Yvette! Yvette!
DE VARDES
Mon Dieu!
[_The car stops._ YVETTE _rises_.
THE CROWD
_Vive la déesse! Vive Yvette!_ (LALAIN _comes forward_.) _Vive Lalain!_
LALAIN
People of Nantes! Citoyens! Patriots!
Old things are past. To-day we welcome new.
Gone are the priests, gone is the crucifix;
Chalice and paten whelmed beneath the Loire!
Kings, princes, nobles, priests, all crumbled down!
Death on a pale horse hath ridden o’er them,
The ravens and the sea mews pick their bones.
Theirs are the yesterdays, the ci-devants!
The red to-day is ours, the purple morrow!—
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity!
We worship Thee, Triune and Indivisible!—
O Mother Nature, pure, beneficent,
Redeemed from darkness of the centuries,
Smile on thy children, come to worship thee!
And thou, supernal Reason, Crown of Man,
Eyes of the blind, divine, ascending flame,
Pearl without price, rose, light, music, warmth!—
O gushing spring where else were desert waste!
O flooding light, celestial melody!
O flower that blooms on either side the grave!
O steadfast star that burns the night away!
We worship thee!
[_He takes the censer from a boy and swings it to and
fro before the standing goddess. Clouds of incense
arise. The trumpets sound._
THE CROWD (_with ecstasy_)
We worship thee, Yvette!
Yvette! Yvette! Reason! Yvette Charruel!
YVETTE
O God! I knew not ‘twas like this!
LALAIN
Reason, descend!
Illume thy torch, among us mortals dwell.
O sweetest Reason! ne’er regret the skies!
Descend—
[_He gives his hand to_ YVETTE. _She descends from
the car._
A MAN
She is the fairest Reason!
ANOTHER
Now
She’ll light the torch!
[_A boy brings her lighted touchwood._ LALAIN _fastens
it to the point of her spear, and kneeling presents it
to her. She advances to the church steps and raises
the flaming lance in order to light the torch. She
sees_ DE VARDES. _The spear falls to the earth. The
flame goes out._
YVETTE
O Our Lady!
THE CROWD
Light the torch! Light the torch!
LALAIN
What witchcraft’s this?
YVETTE
None, none!—Oh, see the heavens open!
[_Murmurs of the crowd._
ANGÉLIQUE
Goddess!
Goddess!
CÉLESTE
She hears not!
THE CROWD
Light the torch!
LALAIN
I see
Hell gaping! What’s that man to thee?
Death and damnation! Dost still gaze at him?
Then to the winds, Irresolution!
[_He turns to the crowd._
See,
Patriots, see! The light of Reason dies!
Out went the sacred flame beneath the eyes,
The basilisk eyes of an Aristocrat!
THE CROWD
Away with him to prison! Death! The Loire!
Death to the emigré!
[_A rush toward the church steps._ DE VARDES
_throws himself on guard_. YVETTE _comes between
him and the mob_.
YVETTE
Back!
THE MOB
Ah—h—h!
LALAIN
Art mad?
Stand from between the lion and his prey!
DE VARDES (_to the mob_)
Men of Nantes! leave women to one side!
(_To_ YVETTE _with a gesture toward the car_.) Goddess of Reason! Mount
Olympus waits!
(_To_ LALAIN.) At last, Rémond Lalain!
LALAIN
René de Vardes!
[_A man strikes at_ DE VARDES _with a long pike.
His sword arm falls, and the sword rattles to the
ground. A shout of triumph from the mob._ THE
MARQUISE’S _cry from the pillar is not heard. The
mob moves forward._
YVETTE
Back, back, I say! You’ll do no murder here!
What! One man against a score!—All Bretons!
THE MOB
Death to the emigré!
DE VARDES
Not emigré!
Good folk, I’ve been in prison in La Force.
Released, I journeyed home to Brittany!
A MAN
Thou’lt journey farther yet, Aristocrat!
ANGÉLIQUE
Thy boat shall travel down the Loire!
YVETTE
Shall it?
Shall it, indeed, thou gold-locked leprous woman!
_Thy_ bark shall be sucked down by black Ahès!
I see three Vannetois!—big Rubik, Yann,
And Rivarol who won the singer’s prize!
À moi, Vannetois!—Who is that standing there?
Huon! Rememberest thou the fields at dawn?
Rememberest thou the dim green hazel copse?
Rememberest thou one Pardon of Sainte Anne?
A PEASANT
Yvette!
YVETTE
The sun went down, the stars shone out;
We wandered round the wreckage of a ship;
Beneath a shell we found a golden coin.
Rememberest thou, Hervé the Cornouillaise?
A BRETON SAILOR
Yvette!
YVETTE
Baptiste! Michael! Monik! Ronan!
How loudly rang the bells of Quiberon!
To beat of drum we danced beside the sea!
YOUNG MEN
Ho, ho! That day!
YVETTE
Eh, who spoke to us there,
Of glory, of France, and of Liberty?
Citoyen Deputy Rémond Lalain!
Red wine he gave to you, to me a flower!
Mon Dieu! I was so proud—
LALAIN
Yvette!
YVETTE (_to an old woman_)
Margot!
‘Twas I who watched with thee one stormy night
When all thy seven sons were out at sea!
THE OLD WOMAN
Ay, ay, and they came safely home to me!
YVETTE (_to a child_)
O little Jeanne, where is the doll I gave thee?
THE CHILD
Here!—‘tis named ‘Toinette!
A WOMAN (_with the child_)
She has another
Named Yvette!
YVETTE (_to a band of young women_)
Fifine, Laure, and Veronique!
The moon shone bright, there was no wind at all,
Below the heights the violet shadows slept,
All sweetly smelled the gorse and white buckwheat,
And dewy was the grass beneath our feet,
And wet with dew the poppies in our hair!
There came a sound of singing from the sea,
Our hands we linked, we sped around Tantad,
Fair shone the moon—
A YOUNG GIRL
Oh, Eves of Saint John!
A BRETON
_Iou! Iou! An Tan! An Tan! An Tan!_
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Ronan! Saint Primel!
THE CROWD
Yvette! Yvette!
Yvette Charruel!
YVETTE
O folk of Nantes!
There is a thing I want so badly, I!
Call it a fairing from the Fête of Reason,
And give the trifle to the poor Yvette,
The poor Yvette who’s done her best to please you!
Oh, I’ve music made for you to dance by,
And for you held on high the great tricolour;
And in the night-time sung to you of dawn!
And for you, too, I’ve plucked the lilies up,
Fast locked a door and flung away the key,
And left the ravished garden evermore!—
A priest would say my soul I had imperilled.
THE CROWD
No, no! No priests! Reason! Reason! Yvette.
YVETTE
This mantle blue, these oak leaves in my hair,
These sandals and this spear, this tunic white,
The wreathèd car, the music and the song!
All, all a mockery, unless, unless—
There is a thing I want so badly, I!
A COMMISSIONER
It is thine!
THE CROWD
Thine! Thine! Yvette Charruel!
YVETTE
Ah, I would play the goddess, that I would!
I’d have my pardon like a Breton saint,
And what I bound, it should be bound indeed!
And what I loosed, it should be loosed indeed!
A COMMISSIONER
Fast bind or freely loose, thy surety, I!
ANOTHER
Command me, and the silver moon I’ll bring thee!
YVETTE
With what a sudden glory shines the sun!
It gilds the streets, it gilds the running Loire!
And from them both the blood-stains fade away!
Ah, let us rest from death in Nantes to-day,
And think how falls the eve in Bethlehem!—
There is a little village that I know,
A hungry village by a hungry sea,
As worn and grey as any calvary!
The hungry shadows ate the sunshine up;
The children cried, the women wailed at morn;
The very Christ looked hungry on the Cross;
When lo! a miracle! for suddenly
The starving, haggard folk began to laugh,
The tender green put forth, the flowers bloomed,
Blue shone the sky, the lark sang overhead,
And mild the face of Christ and heavenly kind!
The little village had its fill of bread,
Yea, wine it drank, and cheerful breath it drew,
And, by the well, of this strange plenty talked,
Of tolls withdrawn, of perfect friendliness!
[_She moves from before_ DE VARDES.
And then it blessed the man who gave it bread,
Who had a heart to feel with wretchedness,
And a strong arm to drive the hunger forth
As Arthur drove the giants from the land!
O men of Nantes! you’ll keep your oath to me!
In Nantes to-day ‘tis mine to loose or bind!—
I loose this man—
LALAIN
Out, witch!
(_To_ DE VARDES.) Think not, think not,
René de Vardes, that she shall save thee thus!—
Mine, mine she is, she shall be, soul and all!
DE VARDES
Rémond Lalain—
LALAIN (_to the mob_)
It is an emigré!
A traitor and a black Aristocrat,
The ci-devant De Vardes!
THE CROWD
De Vardes! De Vardes!
YVETTE
Rémond Lalain, stand from my path, I say!
(_To the crowd._) Not emigré, but prisoner in La Force!
Not traitor! That’s a wretch who doth betray!
Aristocrat?—Who chooseth his birth star?
Crieth at Life’s gate, “Of such an house I’m heir!”
But in we drift from the great sea without;
A current takes us—“Of my house are ye!”
So you, so I, so this citoyen here,
Rémond Lalain, who is Lalain by chance,
And might have been Capet or Mirabeau!
And so this other, standing gravely there
Alone, a man alone upon a rock,
And the tide mounts!—The current swept him there!
Another drift, and he had been Lalain,
Orator and idol of the Jacobins!—
Names! They are the mist through which the man
Is scarce discerned, the sea-drift hides the pearl.
Ghosts of the past the present spurns! Dead leaves!
Masks for the pauper and the prince! Mere names!
I would not have them rule my spirit thus!—
Aristocrat! I know not, but I know
The man’s been known to lift a peasant’s load
And gather seaweed with a fisher’s child!
A BRETON SAILOR
‘Tis true! And in my boat he’s been with me,
When Ahès and the storm made black the sea!
A PEASANT
He walked beside me in the field and told
Name of the silver star above the fold!
A SOLDIER
I was a red Hussar! He fought like Mars.
Eh, my Colonel—
A WOMAN
We know, we Morbec folk!
_Vive Baron René!_
SÉRAPHINE
Eh, eh, monseigneur!
YVETTE
Nantes! Nantes! you’ll keep the oath you’ve made to me!
My fairing I shall have this holiday,
And what I bind it shall be bound indeed,
And what I loose is loosed to me for aye!
I ask one gift—I shall not ask again!
This is my hour, no other hour I want.
I ask one life—is’t mine, is’t mine, Citoyens?
THE CROWD
Yes, yes! ‘Tis thine!
A COMMISSIONER
Thine, Goddess!
(_To_ DE VARDES.) Citoyen, thou art free!
LALAIN
Diable!
YVETTE
I’m faint.—
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Iguinou! What of the pillar there?
A COMMISSIONER
Make way for the Citoyen Vardes!
THE CROWD
Make way!
SÉRAPHINE
Eh, eh, monseigneur; thou hadst best begone!
DE VARDES (_to the Commissioner_)
Citoyen, thanks! but here I’ll watch awhile
These pleasing rites, this worship new of Reason!
THE COMMISSIONER
‘Twill do thee good, Aristocrat!
DE VARDES
No doubt,
Citoyen!
LALAIN
Oh, depth of hell!
NANON
Oh, patience!
LALAIN
Why takes he not his liberty? He stays!
To feast his eyes upon her face he stays!
Diable! He speaks to her—
NANON
Patience! Patience!—
What flutters there behind the pillar?
LALAIN
Where?
[_She points. They move together to the base of the
statue._
DE VARDES (_to_ YVETTE)
I owe my life to thee, thou hapless child!
Ah, couldst thou make this throng depart the place!
YVETTE
Monseigneur—
THE CROWD
Goddess of Reason! light the torch!
YVETTE
I’m faint!—The houses all are dancing there!—
Give me drink!
A MAN
Here’s wine!
[_He pours wine into a great gold cup._
YVETTE
‘Tis in a chalice!
THE CROWD
Drink!
[YVETTE _drinks_.
YVETTE
Nom de Dieu! ‘Tis right good wine, indeed!—
Not now I’ll light the torch—‘Tis out for good!
And while we linger here the sunlight goes!
Let’s to the quai, let’s to the quai and dance—
And dance the Carmagnole!
THE CROWD
The Carmagnole!
[_Men and women take hands and begin to dance._
YVETTE
Away! Down the long street, and to the quai!
Take hands! Away! _Dansons la Carmagnole!_
[_She snatches from a boy a tambourine and strikes it._
_Vive le son, vive le son,
Vive le son du canon!_
[_The crowd disperses._ DE VARDES _remains standing
before the pillar behind which crouches_ THE MARQUISE.
SÉRAPHINE _watches from the church steps_;
LALAIN _and_ NANON _from the base of the Statue
of Liberty_.
Monseigneur!
DE VARDES
Ay.
YVETTE
Now, now while the lark sings,
And while the fairy wood is green, begone!
Oh, ‘tis not safe in Nantes! They gave thy life,
But oh, they’re fierce and fickle! Back they’ll come!
I’ve enemies in Nantes, and there’s Lalain,
Rémond Lalain who’ll work me woe at last!
Thou must begone, but list, ah, list to me!
I know a secret place where thou mayst bide,
So safe! so safe! and I will bring thee food,
White bread and wine, and find for thee a way
Forth from the town—
DE VARDES
Ah, I may trust thee, sure!
YVETTE
I never knew thou wast in prison there!
So sad, so dark the prison life, they say!
My cagèd bird I freed the other day.
There are so many prisoners in Nantes,
I would not have it one!—
DE VARDES
My life I owe—
YVETTE
The spring draws on; ‘twill soon be June again!
DE VARDES
Now for another life I make my suit—
YVETTE
In Paimpont Wood the trees are greening now,
In sun and shade the purple violets blow!
DE VARDES
In those old convent days, ah, ages gone!
Beneath the fruit trees, by the fountain there,
I’ve seen thee nurse a little fluttering bird,
Wounded and frightened, fallen from the blue,
But yet God’s bird, and with a life to save!
And thou didst stroke its plumage tenderly,
And gently fostered it between thy hands
Awhile, and up it soared into the blue;
A moment since and thou didst save my life.
Lo now, there is another thing to do!
Before my own life, I’ve a life in charge,
And to thee now I turn, and plead for help.
In this wild town thou rulest o’er the hour;
Be now the goddess and the woman too,
Pitiful, tender, generous, and true!—
Lo! here a wounded bird—
[_He moves aside._ THE MARQUISE _leaves the shadow
of the pillar_.
YVETTE
Death of my life!
THE MARQUISE
Oh, guard me, all ye saints!
DE VARDES
Yvette! Yvette!
[LALAIN _comes forward from the statue_.
LALAIN (_to_ YVETTE)
Right of the Seigneur!
YVETTE
So! Thou hast returned,
Beneath the trees, along the moonlit road!
And in thine arms the rose and eglantine,
And on thy lips the song of all the birds!
Back! There is a furze field bars thy way!
THE MARQUISE
Mon Dieu!
YVETTE
Hast thou another fan to break?
Ha! shrinkest thou?
THE MARQUISE
Sainte Geneviève!
YVETTE (_raising her voice_)
Nantes! Nantes!
DE VARDES
By all the gods!—
YVETTE
À moi! À moi! Nantes!
[_An answering cry from within._
DE VARDES
Herd girl of Morbec—
LALAIN
Right of the Seigneur!
YVETTE
À moi! Citoyens! Patriots!
_Reënter mob._
DE VARDES
Courage,
Clarice!
THE MARQUISE
O all ye saints!
YVETTE
Citoyens!
This ci-devant, this black Aristocrat!
Oh! all this while she was in hiding here!
Beside the pillar there she kneeled and laughed.
Do I not know her laughter, rippling sweet
Or o’er a broken fan or broken heart,
Or in green Morbec and a garden fair,
Or on the moonlit road to ancient Vannes?—
She, she the ci-devant, the emigrée!
Who to false England with her jewels fled,—
Rubies, emeralds, and long strings of pearls!
The while in barren fields her peasants starved!—
I denounce the Citoyenne Blanchefôret!
THE CROWD
Ah—h—h!
THE MARQUISE
O terror!
DE VARDES
Thy hand in mine, Clarice!
YVETTE
What of, what of the dark line of De Vardes?
What tales are told of Morbec’s black château?
More wicked and more lost than sunken Ys!
Wolves were they all, the seigneurs of Morbec!
Henri, Philippe, Gil, René, Amaury—
All, all were wolves who lurked, who sprang, who tore,
No heart of lamb, but just the heart of man!
Heart of a man, heart of a woman too!
Morbec! De Vardes! No direr names in France!
Right hands of kings, priests, soldiers, cardinals,
Courtiers and lovers of the fleur-de-lis!
Passionate, proud, a whirlwind and a flame!
Morbec! De Vardes! ‘Ware all who came between
The whirlwind and its goal, the stubble and the flame!
DE VARDES
Thou lost soul!
LALAIN
Thou lovely fiend!
YVETTE
De Vardes! De Vardes! The name comes on the blast
Up from the gulf where lie the thrones of kings.
Battle, oppression, tyranny and wrong—
Miramand, Blanchefôret! on sea winds in they float
From that dim palace where that lost Ahès
Down to her emerald windows beckons man
And spreads the bridal bed in sunken Ys!
NANON
Mon Dieu! The bridal bed!
YVETTE
By all the wrongs
That both their houses through the ages long
Have wrought us! By the blood that they have shed,
The tears, the groans, the sweat, the servile knees,
The bitter bread they gave us, and the cry
From lonely graves of anguish and of wrath!
By all the hunger and the freezing cold!
By all the toil and all the hopelessness,
The smitten cheek, the taunt, the burning heart!
By all the Rights of all the Lords of Wrong!
By _Corvée_ and _Gabelle_ and _Gibier_,
_Quintaines_, _Milods_, _Ban d’Août_ and _Bordelage_,
_Fouage_, _Leide_, _Corvée à miséricorde_,
_Banvin_, _Chansons_, _Baiser des Mariées_!
I do denounce these two Aristocrats:
La Force’s prisoner, and the emigrée,
La belle Marquise, the Hussar of the King,
Citoyen Vardes, Citoyenne Blanchefôret!
LALAIN
So!
THE MOB
Away! Away! Prison! Death! The Loire!
Down, down, Aristocrats.
[_They close around_ DE VARDES _and_ THE MARQUISE.
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Maturin!
Saint Corentin! Saint Jean!
THE MARQUISE
O bitter death!
DE VARDES
I am thy death, who thought to save thee so!
[_The soldiers lay hands upon_ DE VARDES _and_ THE
MARQUISE _and force them from the church steps
and across the square_.
THE MOB
Away!
A COMMISSIONER
The nearest prison!
A MAN
That’s the Church
Of Saint Eustache!
A COMMISSIONER
Away! They shall be judged
By Carrier!
THE MOB
Carrier!—The Loire!
YVETTE
Ah!
ANGÉLIQUE
Ha, ha! _Le Mariage Républicain!_
YVETTE
Quoi!
ANGÉLIQUE
Eh, they’re lovers, are they not?
CÉLESTE
The Loire shall marry them, the ci-devants!
ANGÉLIQUE
Yvette has made the wedding, eh, Yvette?
THE MOB
Ha, ha! _Le Mariage Républicain!_
[_Exeunt the mob, soldiers_, DE VARDES, _and_ THE
MARQUISE, _guarded, etc._
VOICES (_within_)
_Le Mariage Républicain!_ Ha, ha!
YVETTE
What have I done?—
VOICES (_dying away_)
Ha, ha! ha, ha! The Loire!
YVETTE
The Loire!—O God!
_CURTAIN_
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_ACT IV_
_The interior of a church in Nantes used as a prison. Great broken
windows of stained glass, purple and crimson, through which
streams the sunlight. Prisoners of both sexes and all ages and
conditions of life move to and fro, or lean against the pillars
which support the vaulted roof. Some rest or kneel upon the steps
before the altar rail. Three children play beside a broken font.
Against a door at the left of the great altar lounge several
turnkeys dressed in blue woollen with red liberty caps._ THE
MARQUISE _sits beside a pillar. She talks with_ DE BUC _and_
ENGUERRAND LA FÔRET. _Near her are_ COUNT LOUIS _and_ MLLE. DE
CHÂTEAU-GUI. DE L’ORIENT _stands upon a bench beneath a shattered
window_. DE VARDES _sits at a rude table writing_.
_A butterfly enters at the broken window and flutters through the
church._
A CHILD
The butterfly! The butterfly!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Oh, see
Its painted wings!
A CHILD
There! There!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
It comes my way!—I’ve caught it!—No!
AN ACTRESS (_dressed as a shepherdess_)
I!
I have it fast, the pretty prisoner!
DE L’ORIENT
It will not stay—
COUNT LOUIS
It soars into the roof!
No! down again on yon long ray of light!—
Give chase!
DE L’ORIENT
Here!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
There!
THE ACTRESS
Oh, oh! It sails this way,
The fairy boat—
DE L’ORIENT
With freight of heart’s desire!
THE ACTRESS
I have it!
COUNT LOUIS
No, I!
[_The butterfly lights upon his hand._
‘Tis youth!
DE L’ORIENT
‘Tis gone!—
[_The butterfly brushes his shoulder._
‘Tis joy!
THE ACTRESS
Fled!—Ah, ah!—‘Tis hope!
[_The butterfly touches her outstretched arm, then
rises again._
No longer!
[_The butterfly rests upon the fair hair of_ THE MARQUISE.
THE MARQUISE
As I was saying, then I felt despair—
[_The butterfly rises, flutters in a shaft of sunshine,
then passes out of the window. The prisoners watch
its flight._
A CHILD
The butterfly has gone!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Whither!
DE L’ORIENT
‘Tis for
The blue skies and the sunny fields!
THE ACTRESS
The flowers
We shall not gather any more!
DE L’ORIENT
High hills,
The water running in the sun and shade!
MME. DE MALESTROIT
A garden old beside a winding stream—
Oh, death in life!
A NUN
It was a soul set free.
By now a thousand shining leagues it’s mounted!
[_The door at the left of the altar opens._
_Enter_ GRÉGOIRE.
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Here is Grégoire!
GRÉGOIRE
Good-morrow, Citoyens!
COUNT LOUIS
Good-morrow, Gaoler.
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Ah, this place, Grégoire!
It is so triste! Shall we forever stay
Imprisoned in a church?
LA FÔRET
Oh, gayer far
The Bastille or Vincennes!
THE ACTRESS
These frowning saints!
The wind that whistles in!
MME. DE MALESTROIT
The stones so cold!
COUNT LOUIS
The Church will make us martyrs ere our time!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
And did you buy, Grégoire, the cards for ombre?
THE ACTRESS
Masks for our play?
DE L’ORIENT
A violin?
THE ACTRESS
Wax-lights?
DE BUC
The foils?
A CHILD
My ball, Grégoire?
GRÉGOIRE
I’ve nothing bought—
The judges sit to-day. Complain to them.
The church is cold! ‘Tis not so cold as Loire!
The prisons are too crowded! Well, to-day
We’ll weed them out!
DE BUC
So!
GRÉGOIRE
You are warned! Prepare!
Make your farewells—the time is very short!
[_Exit_ GRÉGOIRE.
DE BUC
Strike camp!
DE L’ORIENT
The open road!
COUNT LOUIS
Who goes?
LA FÔRET
Who stays?
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Our comedy!—we cannot have it now!
THE ACTRESS
Oh, we will rearrange the parts!
[DE VARDES _folds his letter and rises from the table_.
DE VARDES
We’ll play,
Though all the world is sliding ‘neath our feet!
DE BUC
The world’s a stage—
THE NUN
_De profundis clamavi
Ad te Domine!_
_Enter the_ ABBÉ JEAN DE BARBASAN, _pale, wounded, and with
disordered dress_.
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Monsieur l’Abbé!
DE VARDES
Ah!
De Barbasan, we feared for you!
THE ABBÉ
Morbleu!
I am reprieved! Lambertye proved my friend!
It seems that once I saved the villain’s life!—
Pure accident!—stumbled on him in a ditch,
Played the Samaritan!—so now I’m spared,
Come forth like Daniel from the lions’ den,
That Judgment Hall of theirs across the way!
Lions! They are not lions, they are wolves,
Hyenas, tigers, and baboons. Faugh!
DE BUC
So!
They are hungry yet?
THE ABBÉ
Oh, they are portents!
And portents are the folk that fill that hall!
Not women they who sit aloft and knit;
Not men, those scarecrow visages below;
For robed judges, wolves at Lammas tide,
And Nantes the winter forest for the pack!—
But ah, the deer at bay, the little lambs!—
The earth gives ‘neath their feet, they face the Loire!
[_A confused sound from the square without the window;
voices, menacing and execrating, a cry, then
silence._
DE VARDES
One has not gained the Loire!
THE ABBÉ
Ah, oftentimes,
They fall before they reach the Judgment Hall!
There in the street, before that fatal door—
Both youth and age, fair women and brave men.
Their blood cries to another judgment seat!
From yonder window you may see it all!
THE MARQUISE
We will not look!
COUNT LOUIS
Fie, fie, De Barbasan!
There is a time for everything! Not now,
Nor in this place is’t meet or debonair
To speak of ravening wolves or stricken deer!
To work, my friend! You find us much concerned
About this play of Molière’s! We give
_Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme_.
THE MARQUISE
You’ll play Jourdain?
Béjart had promised us, but then he went.
He’s not returned.
THE ABBÉ
Nor will, I think. But, yes,
I’ll take the part; I’ll speak in prose to you
To whom I else would speak in poetry!
THE MARQUISE (_with a curtesy_)
Monsieur Jourdain, your prose is ravishing!—
I’m Dorimène.
DE BUC
And I Dorante!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
Lucille.
MME. DE MALESTROIT
Nicole!
THE ACTRESS
I am, Monsieur Jourdain, your wife!
LA FÔRET
Your son-in-law the Turk!
DE VARDES
Behold, monsieur,
Your fencing master!
DE L’ORIENT
Your _maître de danse_.
Imagine, pray, you hear my violin:
La, la—The minuet!—La, la, la!
[_He plays an imaginary violin. The prisoners hesitate,
laugh, then begin to step a minuet. The children
and the gaolers watch them._ DE VARDES _does
not dance. He leans against a pillar to the left_.
_Enter a turnkey_, CÉLESTE, ANGÉLIQUE, NANON, _and_
SÉRAPHINE.
SÉRAPHINE (_crossing herself_)
Eh! Eh! They dance!—Well, what a thing it is
To be a noble born!
CÉLESTE (_jealously_)
We dance as well!
SÉRAPHINE
Ay, the Carmagnole!
ANGÉLIQUE
‘Tis a swifter dance!
Why came we here? I never liked this church,
They are too gay of heart, these ci-devants!
Let’s to the Judgment Hall, or to the Loire.
CÉLESTE
Séraphine would come—
SÉRAPHINE
Patience, Citoyennes,
No haste! I’ve just a little word to speak
Unto monseigneur there.
CÉLESTE
Monseigneur!
SÉRAPHINE
Oh,
The Citoyen Vardes! You know my tripping tongue.
NANON (_to the turnkey_)
Where is that ci-devant men once did call
La belle Marquise?
THE TURNKEY
‘Tis she who dances there,
Fair-haired and dressed in violet.
NANON
Awhile
I’ll watch her dance.
CÉLESTE
Their cheeks are pale.
ANGÉLIQUE
They smile.
I would not smile if I were they.
[NANON, CÉLESTE, _and_ ANGÉLIQUE _watch the
dancers_. SÉRAPHINE _approaches_ DE VARDES.
SÉRAPHINE (_in a low voice_)
Monseigneur!
DE VARDES
Séraphine Robin, I believe?
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Yves!
Now just to think! Monseigneur knows my name!—
Eh! Morbec was my home for many a year.
When all is said and done, Home is just Home,
Hut or château—and always the De Vardes
Were lords of Morbec did they good or ill!
Most like ‘twas ill—but they were proper men!
And when they smiled we always said ‘twas day;
And old men say—but it was long ago—
A baron lived was named René the Good!
Saint Gil! Monseigneur gave us back Lisette.
Saint Maudez! ‘Tis a dangerous thing, but see!
[_She takes from her bosom a silken purse._
Eh, monseigneur, ‘tis yours! Take it! Quick, quick,
Before Céleste—the baggage!—turns her head!
[_She thrusts the purse into his hand._
DE VARDES
From whom?
SÉRAPHINE
Look in it! You will see. ‘Tis gold.
DE VARDES
Gold!
SÉRAPHINE
And something more.—Here is Angélique!
ANGÉLIQUE
Aristocrat—That ring upon thy finger—
SÉRAPHINE
Out!
DE VARDES
Not yet, Citoyenne!
ANGÉLIQUE
Then afterwards!
I’ll have it at the trenches or the Loire!
[_She rejoins_ CÉLESTE _and_ NANON. _They watch the
dancers._
DE L’ORIENT
Nicole—Lucille—Cléonte—
SÉRAPHINE
My errand’s done—
Look in the purse, monseigneur, look at once!
DE L’ORIENT
La, la, la, la!
DE VARDES
I have no need of gold.
SÉRAPHINE
Look, monseigneur!
DE VARDES
Again, from whom?
SÉRAPHINE
A friend.
DE VARDES
I have no friend in Nantes. Take back thy purse!
SÉRAPHINE
It is not mine, the pretty, silken thing!
I swore that I would leave it, so I will!
And I was told to tell you, “Look within.”
[NANON _approaches_.
NANON
In Nantes one is Suspect when one is seen
Whispering in shadows with Aristocrats!
SÉRAPHINE
Nothing I said you might not hear, Nanon!
Come, come away!
(_To_ DE VARDES _as she turns from him_.) Monseigneur, have a care!
[SÉRAPHINE, NANON, CÉLESTE, _and_ ANGÉLIQUE
_watch the dancers. A grating sound is heard without
the door to the left of the altar. The turnkeys
move aside, the door opens and discloses a passage
lined with gaolers and soldiers._
_Enter_ GRÉGOIRE _with three or four Patriots. They wear
great boots, plumed hats, sashes of tricolour, sabres and
pistols._
DE L’ORIENT
La, la, la, la, la!
GRÉGOIRE
The list for the day.
[_The dance ceases._
CÉLESTE
Now, now we’ll see the birds drop one by one!
ANGÉLIQUE
It is what I love!
GRÉGOIRE (_He descends the step from the choir_)
The list, Citoyens!
You whom I name pass out at yonder door.
Across the square the judges sit—
DE BUC
Just so!
Who leads?
GRÉGOIRE
Citoyen, you!
DE BUC
Promotion, by God!—
Messieurs, mesdames, I have marching orders!
(_To the Actress and_ MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI.) I cannot play Dorante!
Is’t not a shame?
De L’Orient there must take my part—Adieu!
(_To_ THE MARQUISE.) Ah, Dorimène, you’ll let me kiss your hand?
THE MARQUISE
Monsieur, monsieur—
DE BUC (_to_ DE VARDES)
I’m breaking camp.
DE VARDES
Ma foi!
We’ll meet at the end of the march, my friend!
Meantime I’ll tell thee that Bouillé once said,
“Brave as a Gascon, or Fauquemont de Buc!”
DE BUC
Did he so? Old Bouillé!
[_He salutes._
My Colonel!
DE VARDES
Captain de Buc!
[DE BUC _mounts the step into the choir and passes
out of the door, between the lines of soldiers. There
is heard the voice of the mob in the square without._
DE L’ORIENT
Away with Melancholy!
The curtain’s up, the play begins! Grégoire,
My name is Thalia! Is’t on thy list?
GRÉGOIRE (_his eyes upon the paper in his hand_)
No, Citoyen.
DE L’ORIENT
Another lifetime here!
COUNT LOUIS
A golden louis to a paper franc,
The next is Château-Gui!—
GRÉGOIRE
No, Château-Gui,
You are reserved.
COUNT LOUIS (_taking snuff_)
Why, that is welcome news!
Eh, my daughter, we will not miss the play!
GRÉGOIRE
The Citoyen Charles Le Blanc.
LE BLANC
What damned star
Flared and went out the night that I was born?
[_Exit_ LE BLANC.
GRÉGOIRE
Hervé Rauderendec, called the Breton!
THE BRETON
Good people all, it has been pleasant here,
But now the tide draws to the full—Adieu!
I must make sail!
[_Exit the Breton._
GRÉGOIRE
The Citoyenne Gérard.
THE ACTRESS
I?
GRÉGOIRE
Delphine Gérard.
THE ACTRESS
Oh, I knew, I knew
The butterfly that touched me was ill luck!
I named it Hope,—it fled, it fled away!
THE ABBÉ
We’re loth to let you go, Delphine Gérard.
THE ACTRESS
There is no choice—I have my cue, you see!—
And after all the play’s a tragedy.
[_Exit the Actress._
CÉLESTE
‘Tis better worth our while across the square!
ANGÉLIQUE
‘Tis so! Let’s to the Judgment Hall.
NANON
Agreed.
Come, Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
I’ll follow presently.
ANGÉLIQUE
Do not delay. We’ll keep a place for you!
[_Exeunt_ NANON, CÉLESTE, _and_ ANGÉLIQUE.
GRÉGOIRE
The Citoyenne Vaucourt.
MME. DE VAUCOURT
Children, children!
Your father’s calling me from Paradise!—
Thérèse, Philippe, farewell, farewell, farewell!
Oh, clasp me close and kiss!—Forget me not!—
Yes, yes, I’ll buy the bonbons and the doll!
I’ll not forget—
GRÉGOIRE
The boy goes with you.
MME. DE VAUCOURT (_wildly_)
With me! He’s but a babe! Not eight till June!
THE BOY (_clinging to her_)
To the toy-shop, mother!
MME. DE VAUCOURT
Oh, yes, child, yes!
To the toy-shop!
[_They go out together._
GRÉGOIRE
Maria Innocenta Sombreuil!
[_A young girl in the habit of a Carmelite novice
leaves the shadow of a pillar, with raised face and
hands crossed upon her breast mounts the step and
passes out between the soldiers._
Gaspard Le Borgne!
LE BORGNE
An angel leads me on.
[_He follows the novice._
GRÉGOIRE
Enguerrand La Fôret!
LA FÔRET
Ha, ha!—ha, ha!
Ha, ha!—
[_Hysterical and continued laughter._ GRÉGOIRE _and
the turnkeys look stolidly on, but the prisoners are
disturbed_.
COUNT LOUIS
For shame, Enguerrand La Fôret!
Before women!—Die like a gentleman!
LA FÔRET (_He leans against the balustrade of the choir_)
Ha, ha!
COUNT LOUIS
Fie, fie! You shame us all!
LA FÔRET
Ha, ha!
I laugh because—ha, ha!—‘tis such a joke!
[_He mounts the step still laughing, then suddenly
recovers himself and turns with fury._
Who calls me coward? I laughed because I laughed!
[_He wrests a musket from the nearest soldier and
stabs him with the bayonet._
Take that!—There’s one at least will laugh no more!
[_Oaths and confusion among the gaolers and soldiers.
A sigh of satisfaction from the prisoners._ LA FÔRET
_is dragged out_. GRÉGOIRE _looks at his list, then at_
DE VARDES. _The latter advances._
GRÉGOIRE (_hurriedly to himself_)
To-morrow—not to-day! I’ll risk that much,—
Just for the way he fought that Morbec night!
(_Aloud._) Stand back, Citoyen Vardes! Your time’s not yet.
[_A murmur of pleasure and congratulation from the
prisoners._
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
We are so pleased, Monsieur le Baron!
GRÉGOIRE
Citoyens Rochedagon and Pincornet!
[_The men named go out. There is heard from the
square without and from the passage a sound of
acclamation. The door is flung open and the Actress
enters._
THE ACTRESS
They harmed me not! “No, no!” they said. “No, no!
Delphine Gérard must play for us in Nantes.”
Oh, the people! Oh, the dear good people!
Oh, blessed fortune!
DE VARDES
We are most happy!
THE ABBÉ
Delphine Gérard!
COUNT LOUIS
Welcome, mademoiselle!
You see the play is still a comedy!
GRÉGOIRE
Marneil, Delille!
[_Exeunt the men named._
DE L’ORIENT
The leaves fall fast,
The tree will soon be bare!
GRÉGOIRE
The Citoyenne
Clarice-Marie Miramand Blanchefôret.
DE VARDES
Oh, wretch!
THE PRISONERS
La belle Marquise!
THE MARQUISE
It is my name!—
I had no thought I would be called to-day!—
Unwarned! That’s horrible! Ah, good Grégoire!
A little while—
GRÉGOIRE (_stolidly_)
Citoyenne Blanchefôret.
THE MARQUISE
Ah, villain!
DE VARDES (_to_ GRÉGOIRE)
Five minutes!
[_He slips into_ GRÉGOIRE’S _hand the purse of gold_.
GRÉGOIRE _hesitates a moment, then his hand closes
upon the purse. He thrusts it into his bosom._
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Michel!
[DE VARDES _comes to_ THE MARQUISE _and they speak
together_. GRÉGOIRE _turns to another group of prisoners_.
GRÉGOIRE
Montfauçon and Guistelles.
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Guenolé!
He hath the purse! The paper in it too!
He’s rock; he, black Grégoire! Alack the day!
Saint Huon! What’s to do?—
GRÉGOIRE
Sorel and Mornay!
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Yves le Véridique! I will away!
[_Exit_ SÉRAPHINE.
DE VARDES (_to_ THE MARQUISE)
Would I might die for thee!
THE MARQUISE
‘Tis but a dream!
DE VARDES
Clarice! Clarice!
THE MARQUISE
A vision of the night!
DE VARDES
Clarice-Marie!
THE MARQUISE
I will awake!
DE VARDES
My friend!
THE MARQUISE
Ah, only that!
DE VARDES
La belle Marquise!
THE MARQUISE
No more!
DE VARDES
How long have we been friends! And now—
THE MARQUISE
And now!—
DE VARDES
My friend, my friend!
THE MARQUISE
Alas! Alas, ‘tis true
We are good friends—in life and death good friends!
‘Tis much—though there are lovers too in Nantes,
And when one loves ‘tis not so hard to die!
Or so I’ve heard, monsieur.
DE VARDES
O destiny!
THE MARQUISE
The jasmine is my flower—a luckless bloom!
Wear not the too-sweet jasmine flower,
For then one loves, but is not loved again!
DE VARDES
No, no! the rose—
THE MARQUISE
The rose unloved! Ay, ay!
Last night I dreamed of roses and of lights,
Beside a water still they burned and bloomed—
Lit candles and pale roses with gold hearts,
Like those that bloomed within my garden once,
When you rode by, when you rode by, my friend!
DE VARDES
Alas!
THE MARQUISE
They’re dead, my garden roses, dead!
They’ll bloom no more, nor wilt thou ride that way;
Nor, Sieur de Morbec, dost thou love the rose.
For once thou said’st to me upon a day
When I did find the Morbec roses fair,
“I better love the heartsease at thy feet.”
The peasant flower! Rememb’rest thou that day?
‘Twas Saint John’s Eve—
DE VARDES
Would I remembered not!
THE MARQUISE
The heartsease—
DE VARDES
The heartsease withered.
[_A roar from the square._ DE L’ORIENT _turns from
the window_.
DE L’ORIENT
Ah!
COUNT LOUIS
What do you see?
DE L’ORIENT
Too much!
[_A turnkey laughs._
THE TURNKEY
Carrier! Lalain!
Oh, they judge quickly! _Vive la République!_
THE MARQUISE
It was a summer day when first we met,
And now we part within a prison here,
And never shall we see each other more!
DE VARDES
Oh, briefer than the fairest summer day
The little hour before we meet again!
Soon, soon I’ll follow thee, and all of these!
The reaper hath his sickle in the corn.
He is a madman, but the field is God’s,
And God will garner up the fallen ears,
And in another life we two shall meet!
THE MARQUISE
And wilt thou love me then? Ah, no! Ah, no!
DE VARDES
Thou art a lady brave and fair—
THE MARQUISE
Alas!
GRÉGOIRE
The Nun Benôite, an Ursuline!
[_A nun rises from her knees, makes the sign of the
cross, and passes out between the soldiers._
THE MARQUISE
Ah me!
The unknown land, just guessed at and no more,
To which this loud wind sends my cockle boat!—
Where are my beads? Lost, lost with all things else!
Jewels and gold and friends and lovers too!—
Ah, short my shrift with Grégoire glowering there.
My hatred of Madame la Maréchale,
I’m sorry for’t. The Captal de Montgis
Once did me wrong. Well, well, I can forgive!—
Sieur de Morbec, where’s she that flung us down,
Lifted her finger and behold us here!
Her face is fair—ah, very fair her face.
She was your mistress, yes?
DE VARDES
No!
THE MARQUISE
What then?
DE VARDES
Cold that I warmed, and hunger that I fed.
THE MARQUISE
O strike her, Frost! O Hunger, with her wed!
DE VARDES
Ah, curse her not! She knew not what she did!
THE MARQUISE
Alas! Alas!
GRÉGOIRE
The Citoyenne L’Esparre!
THE MARQUISE
The women go—He’ll call my name! Ah, look!
The purple saints within the windows there,
See how they wave their palms and smile at me!
They wave their palms, they strike their golden harps,
Their aureoles are brighter than the sun!
GRÉGOIRE
The Citoyenne Blanchefôret!
THE MARQUISE
The clock has struck!
DE VARDES
All angels guard thee!
THE MARQUISE
Fatal is my name
And hated through long years in Brittany.
Perhaps I shall not live to cross the square!
[_The noise of the mob without._
Oh, hear!
DE VARDES
Take courage!
THE MARQUISE
From the window there,
Wilt watch me on my way?
DE VARDES
Ay!
GRÉGOIRE
Citoyenne!
THE MARQUISE
Farewell! Ah, not my hand, my friend!
DE VARDES (_He kisses her upon the brow_)
Farewell!
Farewell—
[THE MARQUISE _turns to the remaining prisoners_.
THE MARQUISE
Messieurs, mesdames, ‘tis with regret
I take my leave of this fair company!
My part of Dorimène—it must be played
By some more able, not more willing, one;
For me—I’m bidden to a wider stage.
Adieu! Adieu! Adieu!
THE PRISONERS
La belle Marquise!
[_Exit_ THE MARQUISE. DE VARDES _crosses to the
window_. DE L’ORIENT _gives him place, and he
stands upon the bench and watches the square without_.
COUNT LOUIS
There are three names that most of all they hate:
De Vardes and Château-Gui and Blanchefôret!
GRÉGOIRE
Pasquier, Harlebeque, and Damazan.
[_There is heard from the street without a confused
sound of execration and triumph. The now small
company of prisoners exchange glances._
DE VARDES (_at the window_)
Grand Dieu!
DE L’ORIENT (_beside him_)
They dare not!—Ah!
[_The sound without grows to a roar._
COUNT LOUIS
What seest thou?
DE L’ORIENT
Malediction!
[_A cry without._ DE VARDES, _at the window, raises
his voice_.
DE VARDES
Clarice! Clarice!
[_There is a faint answering cry, followed by a roar
from the mob, then silence._
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
O Ciel!
THE ACTRESS
Miséricorde!
DE VARDES
‘Tis done—‘tis past—she’s dead.
O God who makest man, forbear, forbear!
[_He covers his face with his hands. There is a
silence._ GRÉGOIRE _folds his papers_.
COUNT LOUIS (_with a shaking voice_)
‘Tis well with her at last; we need not weep.
We all must die, for so the play goes on!
Her father was a lord of Gascony;
A golden spur he wore, and loved the chase!
Her mother was more fair than Montespan.
A thousand times we’ve hunted with the King,
De Miramand and I; a thousand times
We’ve watched the moon, that first Clarice and I!
GRÉGOIRE
To-morrow, at this hour, another list!
Meantime, Citoyens, you and you and you,
And you, Citoyennes, who petitioned so,
Your prayer is heard. Lalain is merciful!
You shall not sleep on these cold stones to-night,
Another gaol’s provided. Follow me!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
O welcome change!
COUNT LOUIS
The stones were very cold!
THE ACTRESS
And can we have our play there just the same?
GRÉGOIRE
Just the same.
[_The prisoners move toward the door._ DE VARDES
_touches_ GRÉGOIRE _on the arm_.
DE VARDES
I find the stones no colder than their wont,
Time moves no heavier here than everywhere,
And here, Grégoire, I will remain. The Church
Will give me up when Carrier calls my name!
DE L’ORIENT
I will keep you company—
GRÉGOIRE
As you will—
To-morrow you’ll be called—you have one night.
(_To the other prisoners._) Follow me.
[_Exeunt all but_ DE VARDES _and_ DE L’ORIENT.
_The latter flings himself upon the bench beneath the
window_; DE VARDES _paces to and fro. A silence,
then_ DE L’ORIENT _sings_.
DE L’ORIENT
_There is an herb, they say,
Gives light to all the blind.
’Twill be a gracious day
When I that herb shall find.
And lighten all the blind!_
_There is a leaf that springs.
Will heal the very sad.
Ah, would that I had wings
To find that leaf so glad,
And heal the very sad!_
_There is a bloom o’ grace
Will bring the dead again.
Ah, for the flowret’s face!
Ah, for an end to pain!
Ah, for the dead again!_
DE VARDES
Why, that’s a mournful thing!
DE L’ORIENT
It was so meant.
Oh, happy days we sing the saddest things!—
My heart is eased. I’ll sleep awhile and dream.
[_He pillows his head upon his arm and sleeps._ DE
VARDES _walks slowly to and fro_.
DE VARDES
Sleep!—How long has it been since Sleep and I
Met in the heavy road and laid us down,
Took our dear ease, and let the world go by?—
I well remember in the north one time,—
Beside Moselle, where all the live-long day
Upon a stairway old we stood on guard,
De Buc and I, and looked on Mutiny,
Brazen and bold, Death visible and dark!—
And all the night before in council spent,
After a day’s forced march from Lunéville,
And a wild night of wine and rapiers drawn.—
As the sun set we heard a bugle blown,
Beat of the drums, and thunder of the guns,
And Bouillé’s voice, assurance of relief!—
Another night of council, then at dawn
We slept. The moon was crescent and a star
Shone on to guide the white, enchanted boat
Through seas of ether coloured like a shell;
The trees were dark beneath; there was no sound;
The air was cold,—we laid us down and slept.
Saint Gris! No dreams did trouble us that day!—
[_He rests upon the choir step._
To bring the dead again! No flowret blooms,
No herb, no leaf, shall bring the dead again.
No garden is there where for all one’s gold,
The weightiest sceptre or the keenest sword,
Might one obtain the happy gardener’s place,
And find the bloom that brings the dead again.
It grows not here, and there is naught will serve,
No rain of tears, no delving earnestly,
No lift of hope, no squandered treasury,
Love nor remorse, nor longing nor great pain.
The star has shot. The dead come not again.
[_He rises and again walks to and fro._
Happy the dead.—Ah, what of one who lives?
What of that mask in this fantastic dance
Who crowned herself with poison flowers and laughed
To see the lilies fade before her breath?—
O death! O love! O blasting treachery!
O face that in the prison of La Force
Visited my dreams—
[_The door opens._ YVETTE _leans against it, panting,
then comes forward_.
YVETTE
Where is the paper?
DE VARDES
The paper?
YVETTE
The letter to the judges!
Folded and hidden in the purse I sent—
DE VARDES
You sent?—
YVETTE
By Séraphine! You have it, sure?
[_She looks about her._
Where is she?—The Citoyenne Blanchefôret?
DE VARDES
She’s dead.
YVETTE
No.
DE VARDES
Yes.
YVETTE
All is black before me!
DE VARDES
They called her name—She said adieu and went.
They slew her in the street.
YVETTE
Alas!
DE VARDES
She’s dead,
Who was so fair. Why do you say alas?
YVETTE
Too late!—O God, I thought that all was well!
DE VARDES
Why, so it is! With her ‘tis well. She’s dead.
They say the dead are happy.
YVETTE
You loved her!
DE VARDES
Goddess of Reason, no! Mere friends were we.
But I’ve a preference for my friends alive!
YVETTE
Oh, woe is me!
DE VARDES
Thou hast what thou didst seek.
Return to Olympus and hear “All hail,
Well done, and like a deity!”
YVETTE
The paper!
DE VARDES
Thou dream of Paimpont Wood!—
YVETTE
The purse of gold!
DE VARDES
Thou picture of the Duchess Jeanne!
YVETTE
The purse!
Give, give!
DE VARDES
The purse!—I gave it to Grégoire.
YVETTE
What!
DE VARDES
It bought five minutes—I did not know
‘Twas thine.
YVETTE
To Grégoire! You did not open it!
DE VARDES
No!
YVETTE
Oh, woe, woe is me!
DE VARDES
Thou standest there!
Still, still the herd girl on the green cliff head
Who waves her hand to a lost boat at sea!
Still, still the vision of a haunted wood
Soulless as is the stone thou leanest on,—
Vivien musing on the thing she’s done!
YVETTE
A slip of paper in a silken purse—
DE VARDES
Wilt thou begone? The Mountain waits.
YVETTE
Too late!
Where is Grégoire?
DE VARDES
I know not. He’s away;
He has thy gold—I’m sorry for’t.
YVETTE
No hope?—
I thought the bridge was built and both were o’er.
Then as I passed I heard “To-morrow morn
Carrier himself will judge that ci-devant”
DE VARDES
The Mountain waits—
YVETTE
I’ll to Lalain again.
DE VARDES
Ha!
YVETTE
She is dead; I’m lost. But thou—But thou—
Farewell! Farewell!
DE VARDES
Thou said’st, _I’ll to Lalain_.
I do forbid it utterly.
YVETTE
Oh!
DE VARDES
Obey!
It is thy seigneur’s last command.
(_To himself._) Thou fool!
Touch not her hand. ‘Tis red!
YVETTE
Monseigneur!
DE VARDES
Why art thou both so fair and foul a thing?
YVETTE
Ay, call me that—I care not!
DE VARDES
I’ll call thee “Death,
Sweet Death—fair Treachery!”
YVETTE
Forgive, forgive!
DE VARDES
There’s blood upon thy hand.
YVETTE
Forgive!
DE VARDES
Alas!
Thou didst betray!
YVETTE
I would that I were dead
In Paimpont Wood, beside the Druid Stone!
DE VARDES
I would that I had never strayed that way!
YVETTE
I won that paper in that purse of gold!
And it was life, I tell thee, life for both!
O God! how all things here miscarry!
DE VARDES
I would that I had never seen thy face!
YVETTE
Oh, much I hated her, la belle Marquise,
And yester morn I did betray her there,
Just in the moment God gave o’er my soul!
And she is dead—I cannot bring her back.
Oh, swift the madness passed and came remorse,
And I did hate myself, and strove to save!—
Oh, woe, and double woe! He promised me!
Oh, I have striven with a fiend from hell
And not prevailed, though sorely I did strive!
O God! O God! I’m weary of the light!
Now, now thou too wilt die unless—unless—
Ah, let me go—Farewell, a little while!
DE VARDES
Not till I know where thou dost go, and why.
YVETTE
Rémond Lalain gave me that paper.
It was an order, written by himself,
Whom even Carrier would not offend—
A secret paper not for every eye.
Reward he asked for certain services,—
Two lives, your life and hers—and hers, I swear!
He does not leave his villa all this day,
But at the judgment bar you were to show
That paper to Lambertye or Sarlat,
And both were saved—both, both, I swear it, both!
And now she’s dead—‘Twas life you flung away
Shut in that purse! You gave it to Grégoire!
Grégoire! He serves the Revolution,
Is flint to all beside! Oh me! Oh me!
I could not come myself, I could but send.
I won it not till cockcrow of this morn!
DE VARDES
Till cockcrow!
YVETTE
The dawn came slowly on.
The cock crew and I drew the curtain by
And saw the morning star above the Loire!
DE VARDES
The morning star!
YVETTE
‘Twas like the eye of God!
I used to watch it from the fields at dawn;
This morn ‘twas watching me!
DE VARDES
Rémond Lalain!
YVETTE
‘Twas all in vain. She’s dead—ah, ages since!
You’ll not forgive—So fare you well again!
DE VARDES
Where goest thou, Yvette?
YVETTE
To Séraphine,
Beneath the Lanterne, Sign of the Hour Glass!
DE VARDES
Hear and obey! It is a dying man
Speaks to thee now and with authority!—
Thy seigneur too, and head of all thy house.
When I am dead, the last of the De Vardes
Will be thyself, my cousin!—All song doth say
That Duchess Jeanne who lived so long ago,
Whose pictured face and thine are counterparts,
E’en to the shadowy hair, the cheek’s soft curve,
The light of eye, the slow, enchanting smile,—
All song doth say she had a bruisèd heart,
But in God’s sight a height of soul! So thou.
Go thou to Morbec. Leave this Babylon.
Back! from the travelled road thy foot’s upon!
List not unto the music that is played;
Touch not the scarlet flowers, the honey-sweet,
They’ll poison thee! Think not the light is fair,
It is false dawn. Take thou the darkling way
Shall lead thee to white light and lasting bloom!
Go thou to Morbec. Take thy distaff up,
Spin thou thy flax and listen to old tales,
Peacefully, with that smile upon thy lip!
Or in the dewy dawn lift up thy head
From dreamless sleep and drive thy cows afield,
Stand mid the golden broom and mark the mist
Rise from the hidden sea, and hear the lark
Singing afar his strain of heavenly hope,—
So wear thy years away, ah, tranquilly!—
Thou art so young—All this will come to seem
A dream of yesternight—
YVETTE
Dost thou forgive?
DE VARDES
And at the last when Death shall take thy hand,
Smile at the due caress, and lightly come—
If I am I, I’ll meet thee on the strand!
YVETTE
Dost thou forgive?
DE VARDES
I love!
YVETTE
_Me?_
DE VARDES
Thou sayest.
YVETTE
Where is the music playing?
DE VARDES
Long ago,
To Paris and my King I rode away,
Long ago, in the freshness of the world!
I left thee there, all safe in convent fold—
Fair were the fruit trees in that garden old,
Warm shone the sun, the silver fountain played.
I left thee there and thought to find again,
When King and Crown were saved and devoir done,
The battle o’er, the bugles sounding peace!—
The King he is in heaven, the Crown is lost,
The battle’s to the strong, the war drum rattles on.
Long lay I in the prison of La Force;
A dream I had that thou wouldst wait for me,
Beside the fountain, by the bright fruit trees.
Thou must have known that bars kept me from thee!
Thou must have known that I did love thee true!
Thou must have known that I did longing wait
The rainbow after storm, the halcyon time
When, stilled the jar and discord of the mind,
The all unfettered heart might speak of love!
But ah, the garden’s sealed. Thou art not there!
Thou wouldst not wait the while—
YVETTE
Outside I kneel;
Outside the garden, outside Paradise!
Oh, woe! Oh, bliss!
DE VARDES
Weep not!
YVETTE
I love thee so!
DE VARDES
Paimpont! Paimpont! I feel thy magic wind!
_Reënter_ GRÉGOIRE.
GRÉGOIRE
Citoyen Vardes—
YVETTE
Grégoire, Grégoire! the purse—
The purse of gold!—
GRÉGOIRE
Hein?
DE VARDES
Let be! Let be!
No purse was there! Dost hear, dost hear, Yvette?
No purse, no gold, no paper, no Lalain!
Thou dost not think that I would take my life?
YVETTE
No!
DE VARDES
Well said, and like the Duchess Jeanne!
Let not Grégoire mistake thee either!
YVETTE
I said I know not what, Grégoire, nor why!
Sometimes a woman says she knows not what.
Why should I talk of purses, faith, now why!
GRÉGOIRE
What do you here, Citoyenne?
YVETTE
I know not.
I strayed this way, a gaoler let me in.
‘Tis of the sights of Nantes, this church, this gaol!
GRÉGOIRE (_to_ DE VARDES)
I have in charge to guard you through the street
To the old Prison of the Séminaire.
They who lodge there go onward to the Loire!
[_He turns to_ DE L’ORIENT.
DE VARDES (_to_ YVETTE)
Oh, sunken eyes! Oh, cheek so deadly pale!
Oh, rest thee, rest thee, child, in still Morbec!
Our Lady guard thee, guide thee with her hand.
Farewell—
YVETTE
I’ll walk upon the banks of Loire.
DE VARDES
No; come not there!
YVETTE
I must. It is my road.
GRÉGOIRE (_He touches_ DE L’ORIENT _upon the shoulder_)
Awake, poet, and go along with us!
DE L’ORIENT
I am awake! ‘Tis trudge again, De Vardes!
_Come, Fanchon and Babette,
Olympe and Joséphine!
The dancers all are met
Within the forest green!
Cerise to me,
Denise to thee,
But none to Léontine!_
[_He turns with_ GRÉGOIRE _to the door at left of the
altar_.
DE VARDES
Farewell—my _douce_!
YVETTE
Farewell—my fisherman!
Oh—
GRÉGOIRE
Come!
DE L’ORIENT
_The dancers all are met
Within the forest green!_
[_Exeunt_ DE VARDES, DE L’ORIENT, _and_ GRÉGOIRE.
_The church darkens._ YVETTE _moves to the choir
step_.
YVETTE
Oh, love in my heart! Oh, splendour and light!
The bow in the sky, the bird at its height!
The glory and state of the angels bright!
[_She kneels and stretches out her arms to the altar._
Oh, mother of sorrows!
_CURTAIN_
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_ACT V_
SCENE I
_A Judgment Hall in Nantes. A dais upon which at a heavy table sit
several members of the Revolutionary Committee. Behind them
soldiers and a great tricolour flag. To one side a tribune draped
with tricolour; opposite the tribune a gallery filled with women
of the Revolution. Upon the floor of the hall a throng of
red-capped men. To the right of the dais a number of the accused,
men and women. To the left a small group of the condemned._
_Uproar in the hall. An accused who has been standing before the
judges rejoins the right-hand group of prisoners. One of the
judges rings the bell on the table before him._
THE JUDGE
Silence, Citoyennes in the gallery!
You disturb judgment!
CÉLESTE (_leaning from the gallery_)
We would know up here
Why you did free that man?
THE JUDGE (_soothingly_)
Ah, Citoyenne!
He’s not free—he’s but acquitted!
CÉLESTE
Ah, well!
That’s different!
(_To the women about her._) He’s but acquitted!
THE WOMEN (_They nod their heads_)
Ah!
_Enter_ LALAIN _with_ NANON _and_ ANGÉLIQUE.
CÉLESTE
Hé! Angélique! Nanon!
[NANON _and_ ANGÉLIQUE _make their way through
the press to the gallery stairs_.
THE CROWD
Rémond Lalain.
A JUDGE
Thy place is here, Lalain!
LALAIN
Make way, my friends.
The Levée’s thronged to-day.
THE CROWD
Ha, ha, ‘tis so!
Levée of the Citoyen Carrier!
_Vive la République! Vive Rémond Lalain!_
[LALAIN _sits beside the judges_.
A JUDGE (_to a gaoler_)
The next.
THE GAOLER
Dog of a priest!
[THE ABBÉ _approaches the bar_.
THE ABBÉ
On yesterday,
Messieurs the Judges, you acquitted me.
A JUDGE
It is to-day.
THE ABBÉ
Citoyen Lambertye—
LAMBERTYE (_hastily_)
I give thee o’er—I give thee o’er—
THE ABBÉ
Parbleu!
Samaritan! Would I had played Levite!
And left thee in the ditch with every wound
Till Satan came to hale his minion forth!—
Well, with this life I’ve done!
FIRST JUDGE
Thou art a priest
THE ABBÉ
Granted.
SECOND JUDGE
Death!
A TRICOTEUSE (_from the gallery_)
Hé! Citoyen, below there!
I’ve dropped my knitting. Throw it here to me!
THIRD JUDGE
Thou hast aided emigrés.
THE ABBÉ
Granted.
SECOND JUDGE
Death!
FIRST JUDGE
And written unto exiles.
THE ABBÉ
Granted.
SECOND JUDGE
Death!
THIRD JUDGE
Thou hast been heard to scorn and to lament
That which the Revolution hath achieved!
THE ABBÉ
Scorn and lament! Why, no, I’ve wept with joy
To see the things the Revolution hath achieved!
As—
FIRST JUDGE
As what?
THE ABBÉ
Why, thou death’s-head, many things!
It did achieve, for one, my brother’s death!
THIRD JUDGE
Dost thou mourn for him?
THE ABBÉ
Ay!
SECOND JUDGE
Death!
THE ABBÉ
Achieve! I like the word. Achieve, achieve!
Ruin and downfall, death and waste of fame!
Achievement of the Revolution! Ha,
I’ll tell thee, farceur, what it hath achieved:
It hath achieved the death of the Gironde,
Death of Marat, and death of D’Orléans,
Death of great part of its abhorrèd brood!
It hath achieved the Company of Marat;
It hath achieved Jacques Carrier in Nantes;
It shall achieve more death and infamy!
Death! The word you are so fond of. Death!
And Infamy, the thing you can’t bestow!
It shall achieve the death of Carrier,
The death of Lambertye and of Lalain,
The death of Danton and of Robespierre!—
Nature will give a grave obscene and dark,
And Time will see that docks and darnels grow!
[_Uproar._
THE FIRST JUDGE
Death,—stand aside, condemned.
_Enter_ SÉRAPHINE.
CÉLESTE
Ah, Séraphine,
Come up here, Séraphine!
[SÉRAPHINE _mounts the stair and sits beside_ CÉLESTE,
ANGÉLIQUE, _and_ NANON.
NANON
Where is Yvette?
SÉRAPHINE
I know not, I!
ANGÉLIQUE
I saw her gliding by,
Beneath the moon, last night when all was still.
Against a cannon in the empty square
She leaned, and on the river looked.
SÉRAPHINE
What harm?
ANGÉLIQUE
Why, none!
CÉLESTE (_her eyes upon the prisoners below_)
Ha, ha! it is the old man’s turn!
A GAOLER
Château-Gui!
THE WOMAN
Ah, Château-Gui!
FIRST JUDGE
Château-Gui!
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
O my father!
COUNT LOUIS
Unclasp thy hands, my child!
What is it, Lambertye?
FIRST JUDGE
Thou ci-devant,
Thou art accused, imprimatur, of this:
Once thou didst serve Capet!
COUNT LOUIS
The King?
FIRST JUDGE
Capet.
COUNT LOUIS
I served the King of France.
FIRST JUDGE
Twice over, death! For thou didst serve Capet;
For thou dost dare say the King of France!
COUNT LOUIS
The King of France!
THE CROWD
Ah!—
COUNT LOUIS
Son of Saint Louis!
THE CROWD
Ah!—
COUNT LOUIS
Royal Martyr!
THE CROWD
Ah—h—h.
MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
O my father!
THIRD JUDGE
All titles, terms of honour and of state,
Majesty and reverence are forbid,
Not to be spoken! They are ci-devants,
They are condemned.
THE CROWD
Condemned!
COUNT LOUIS
Ha, ci-devants,
Titles and symbols, names and attributes,
Condemned for splendour and for high estate!
Ha, Croix de Saint Louis! Ha, Château-Gui!
Thou goest to heaven in famous company:
King, Saint, Martyr, Reverence, Majesty.—
Best make the company a regiment—
Regiment du Roi, in vestments gorgeous!
Forbidden words! Who says to me “forbid”?
Ye sans-culottes, ye bourgeois, creeping things,
Adders and asps that slew a king and queen!
I am a courtier of the olden time
Who served le Grand Monarque, knew Mazarin,
And in a Court shall still be courtier,
Croix de Saint Louis, with the _grande entrée_,
While ye do prowl in filthy ways of hell,
Nor hardly see its red-lit Œil-de-bœuf
Where everlasting Terror, groaning, reigns,—
But, being lackeys, keep the lackeys’ place!
FIRST JUDGE
Enough!
SECOND JUDGE
Death!
THE CROWD
Death! The Loire!
COUNT LOUIS
O Kings of France!
O sons of Clovis and of Charlemagne!
Louis the Pious and the Debonair!
Philippe August and Fair, and Charles the Wise!
And thou the sainted King, the Blessed Louis!
And Charles Bien-Aimé, Victorieux,
Crowned by the maiden of Domrémy!
And the good King Henri, Henri the Great!
Louis the Just, Louis le Grand Monarque!
Louis the Loved, and Louis lately dead,
The Martyr King, the Martyr, Martyr King!—
O Kings of France in that fair land ye be,
To your châteaux and to your palaces
Prepare to welcome dying loyalty!
For knightly faith is marching forth from France.
Throne, sceptre, orb, and majesty have passed,
Ermine and coronet and spur of gold,
Renown and splendid honour, valiant sway,
Ancien Régime, noblesse of old France!
The oriflamme upon its golden stem,
The banner of the lilies waving high!—
THE CROWD
Ah—
COUNT LOUIS
The lily banner and the oriflamme!
Forgotten yonder stripes of shame and woe!
THE CROWD
The tricolour! Death! The Loire!
FIRST JUDGE
Death to-night!
COUNT LOUIS
Nightshade, mandrake, and hemlock o’er ye wave!—
But I am going where, I make no doubt,
The favourite flower is still the fleur-de-lis!
THE CROWD
Ah!
COUNT LOUIS
And the word forbid is _république_!
THE CROWD
Down! down!
COUNT LOUIS
Princes and peers of France!
FIRST JUDGE
Have done!
COUNT LOUIS
Anjou, Lorraine!
THE CROWD
Ah—h—h!
COUNT LOUIS
Bourbon and Valois!
[_Uproar in the hall._ MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI
_clings to her father’s arm_.
Forbidden words! Well, well, my child, I’m done!
My breath is out.—Forbidden words! Ma foi!
‘Tis to my taste to deal in contraband!
[_The First Judge rings the bell violently. The tumult
subsides._
A GAOLER
Château-Gui, take place beside the priest!
THE ABBÉ
Ah,
Monsieur le Comte!
COUNT LOUIS
Monsieur l’Abbé!
[_He offers his snuff-box._
FIRST JUDGE
The next.
_Enter_ YVETTE. _The crowd murmurs as it makes way._
THE CROWD
Yvette Charruel!
A MAN
Goddess of Reason!
[YVETTE _mounts the stair to the gallery and sits beside_
SÉRAPHINE.
CÉLESTE
So pale!
ANGÉLIQUE
No rose?
NANON
Only her lips are red.
CÉLESTE
So heavy-eyed?
YVETTE
I have not slept.
A YOUNG GIRL (_near her_)
Oh, oh,
Thy voice! ‘Tis like a violin playing!
ANGÉLIQUE
I know thou didst not sleep.—How looked the Loire
Beneath the moon last night?
YVETTE
Much as ‘twill look
Beneath the moon to-night.
[_With her chin upon her hand she studies the throng
below._
SÉRAPHINE
The prisoners—
YVETTE
Who rises there?
FIRST JUDGE
Thou ci-devant, De Vardes!
THE CROWD
De Vardes! De Vardes! Aristocrat! De Vardes!
DE VARDES
Rémond Lalain—
LALAIN
René de Vardes.
DE VARDES
This court—
Pray you conceive it is some greensward trim,
My cartel sent, received, the duel fought,
And thou the victor, since so wags the world,
Heart’s blood of mine upon thy rapier dark!
And I the vanquished in the sight of men,
Drowsing to death upon the bloody sod.
And all this folk but seconds, witnesses,
They are not here, nor there; we are the men!
Now, seeing death hath some prerogative,
I charge thee stand, antagonist! nor leave
This sunny field with thy triumphant friends
Until I bid thee go!
LALAIN
I hear!
(_To the crowd._) Silence!
DE VARDES
When I do think that once I called thee friend,
My wonder grows! The orchard’s blooming now
Where we did lie at length on summer eves
The while the mavis sang and sea winds blew,
And to the nodding clover droned the bee,—
Two striplings couched beneath an apple tree,
Talking of knights at arms and paladins
And what we each would dare in worthy cause!
That brow of thine was not so swarthy then,
Thine eyes were frank, we read from the same book
The deeds of Palmerin and Amadis.
Then up we lightly rose and went our way,
Hand touching hand,—Orestes, Pylades!
I, Jonathan the Prince, and David thou!
The figure holds, for Jonathan will die,
But wilt thou mourn him, David? No, I say!—
Nor o’er his kingdom shalt thou reign, Rémond!
LALAIN
René—
DE VARDES
I am, monsieur, the Baron of Morbec!
THE CROWD
Ah!
LALAIN
Silence!
(_To_ DE VARDES.) As thou wilt! He is long dead
That youth thou namest David.
DE VARDES
Ay, Citoyen,
He slew himself. I see his punishment.
LALAIN
Oh!—
DE VARDES
Wretched man! What hast thou done? I know,
And thou, Rémond, dost know I know! Enough.
O better far to lie upon this sod
And hear the wings of death above my head,
Than to be thou, thou stainèd conqueror!
Dishonoured thou from helm to bloody heel!
Enough! When the cock crows and the morning star
Shines steadfast over Loire I shall be gone.
One stays, that’s God. Do thou beware, Rémond,
For God will hearken unto Jonathan—
Thou canst not hurt a flower that he loved!
LALAIN
No?
DE VARDES
No!
LALAIN
Thou mightst have had thy life—
DE VARDES
I?
[_He laughs._
YVETTE
Air!
You hem me in, Citoyennes! Air! _De grâce!_
NANON
The air is good enough for us, Yvette!
ANGÉLIQUE
Why do you grow so pale, so pale, Yvette?
[YVETTE _takes from her hair the bonnet-rouge_.
SÉRAPHINE
Psst! Little fool! Put on the cap again!
YVETTE
It is too heavy!
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Yves! Put it on!
DE VARDES
The duel’s o’er; the night is drawing on;
Dark is thy form against the crimson sky,
Rémond Lalain! Stand further off, my foe!
And now I think I see thee not at all,
And that is well! I would forget thee quite.
Live out thy life unto its sordid close!
Live on, and in the future find the past!
But while thou treadest earth touch not again
That flower I spoke of! Touch it not, Lalain!
LALAIN
Draws on the night—
DE VARDES
I’ll bathe me in the Loire!
Death has been ever called a River wide.
This ford I fear not!—Soldier of the King,
I’ll pass the stream, though cold, though cold and dark!
The bivouac lights are shining through the trees,
He waits within my tent, my General!
FIRST JUDGE
Death!
SECOND JUDGE
Death!
DE VARDES
Now sheath thy sword, Rémond!
The field of honour leave to death and me!
[_He crosses to the condemned._
COUNT LOUIS
Monsieur le Baron!
THE ABBÉ
René de Vardes!
DE VARDES
Monsieur le Comte, Monsieur l’Abbé, again
I find myself in best of company!
[_The judges whisper together._ LALAIN, _his eyes
upon the floor, drums upon the table with his hand_.
YVETTE _unpins the tricolour cockade from her breast,
gazes upon it for a moment, then throws it from her.
The women about her watch her greedily._
SÉRAPHINE
Name of a name! Yvette!
YVETTE
I like white best.
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Gildas! Saint Maudez!
YVETTE
I ever loved
The fleur-de-lis!
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Yves le Véridique!
YVETTE (_She rises_)
_God and the King!_
[_Uproar in the hall. All turn toward the gallery._
A JUDGE
Who cried that?
A BRETON SAILOR
Sainte Vierge!
Yvette Charruel!
LALAIN
No!
DE VARDES
Mon Dieu!
THE CROWD
Yvette—
Yvette Charruel!
SÉRAPHINE
Saint Servan! Saint Linaire!
YVETTE
I denounce the Citoyen Rémond Lalain!
THE CROWD
Ah!—
NANON
Ah, let me get at her!
LALAIN
Citoyens!
Heed her not—she’s mad!—The next prisoner!
YVETTE
I denounce Carrier and Lambertye!
Chicanneau, Sarlat, Petit-Pierre, and Gaye,
The Company of Marat, the hideous deaths,
The Noyades and the Dragonades of Nantes!
I tell you that the blood you shed must stop!
One cannot sleep at night with thinking on’t.
You put to sleep, O God! too many!
THE CROWD
Ah!—
A VOICE
There is no God! nor ever was in Nantes!
ANOTHER VOICE
She has spoken against the Republic!
YVETTE
There was a glory in the morning sky,
Where now is naught but miserable red!
A trumpet blew, but we have listened since
To the false jingle of a tambourine!
There stood a mighty judge, robed, calm and proud,
Where is he now? I see but murderers!
A VOICE
But murderers!
YVETTE
I denounce the Republic!
[_Uproar._
THE CROWD
Oh, harlotry!—No, blasphemy!—Down, down!
The Bar! the Judgment Bar!—The river!—Death!
The Loire!
YVETTE
I am coming.
[_She descends the stair. Men and women clutch her
and thrust her forward to the bar._
I am here!
I am Yvette, called Right of the Seigneur.
My mother was the peasant girl, Yvonne;
My father was the Baron of Morbec.
I am tired of _Ça ira, Carmagnole_,
I would sleep with the Loire for my pillow!
THE CROWD
Ah—h—h!
LALAIN
A head beside thine on that pillow!
DE VARDES
Mon Dieu!
YVETTE
Perhaps, Citoyen!
A VOICE
I denounce
Yvette Charruel!
OTHER VOICES
And I!—And I!—And I!
_CURTAIN_
SCENE II
_The banks of the Loire. Night. Branching trees; between their
trunks is seen the river. There is a full moon, but a drifting
mist obscures the scene. In the background, upon the river bank,
dimly appears a crowd of the condemned, men, women, and children,
soldiers and executioners of the Company of Marat. From this
throng comes a low, continued, confused sound of command,
entreaty, distress, and lamentation. In the foreground the
condemned form into groups or move singly to and fro._
_Enter_ YVETTE _from the shadow of the trees_.
A SOLDIER (_following her_)
Holà! Give us not the slip!
YVETTE
Thou soldier!
There is no gold could make me flee this place!
How long dost think before they throw me in?
THE SOLDIER
A little while!
[_He returns to the river._ YVETTE _sits upon the
earth at the foot of a tree, and with her chin upon
her hand watches those who come and go_.
YVETTE
He comes not yet! O Our Lady!
I would not drown till I have seen him once!
A WOMAN (_passing with a man_)
How shines the moon! Did we not always say,
We two would die by such a moon as this?
Rememberest thou—
THE MAN
Rememberest thou that night,
That Versailles night within the Orangerie?
THE WOMAN
Rememberest thou—
[_They pass._
A SOLDIER (_calling to another_)
To bind them hand and foot,
We need more rope!
THE SECOND SOLDIER
Just thrust them in the stream
With bayonets!
A CRY FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
[_A child with flowers in her hand speaks to_ YVETTE.
THE CHILD
I’m tired—
YVETTE
Rest here, thou little bird!
THE CHILD
My name’s Aimée.
I did not know that flowers grew at night.
Is that the moon?
YVETTE
It is the silver moon!
Aimée’s a pretty name. My name’s Yvette.
THE CHILD
Kiss me, Yvette—I’ll look now for Ursule!
YVETTE
Who is Ursule?
THE CHILD
My _bonne_—Adieu, Yvette!
[_The child passes on._
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Hélas! Hélas! Miséricorde!
[_A nun advances from the shadow. She is in ecstasy,
her hands clasped, her eyes raised._
THE NUN
The skies open: heaven appears!
Heaven my home!
O for the wings of the dove,
The eagle’s speed!
The gates of pearl are opening,
My harp is strung.
The Virgins come to meet me.
Sainte Agnès, Sainte Claire!
Our Lady stoops to greet me.
My father smiles.
My brothers two I see there!
Who is that one
Who kneels and to me beckons?
‘Tis he I loved!
What radiance grows, what splendour?
Who waiting stands?
Light! O Light! O Christ my Lord!
Heaven my home!
O Love! O Death, come quickly!
I would be gone!
[_A soldier touches her on the arm._
THE SOLDIER
Thy time it is!
[_The nun regards him with a radiant and dazzling
smile, then turns and moves swiftly before him to the
river._
THE VOICES
Woe, woe! Miséricorde!
YVETTE
Heaven my home! Shall I see heaven then?
Oh me! so much of ill thou’st done, Yvette!
Alas! Alas! What if I cannot win
To heaven! but must ever weeping stand
With all the lost and strain my eyes to see
The form I love move ‘neath the living trees,
And all in vain, so great the distance is!—
Not see him! O Our Lady, let me in!
THE VOICES
Woe, woe!—I die!—I die!—O countrymen!
YVETTE
O God, and is it true I murdered her,
That lady high, that fair, so fair Clarice?
O God! I would that she were happy here,
Alive and laughing, gay of heart again!
O God! I do repent me of my sin!
THE VOICES
Ayez pitié!
[_From a group of the condemned is heard the voice
of_ THE ABBÉ.
THE ABBÉ
_Miserere mei Deus
Secundum magnam misericordiam tuam!_
THE CONDEMNED (_kneeling_)
Have mercy, O God!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
[YVETTE _kneels_.
THE ABBÉ
_In manus tuas Domine commendo spiritum meum,
Redemisti me Domine Deus veritatis!_
THE CONDEMNED
O God, receive our souls!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Woe, woe! We die!
SOLDIERS
That one is swimming there! Your musket! Fire!—
[_A musket shot._
Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
THE ABBÉ
_Dulcissime Domine Jesu Christe,
Per virtutem sanctissimae Passionis tuae
Recipe me in numerum electorum tuorum!_
THE CONDEMNED
O Christ, receive our souls! O Christ who died!
THE ABBÉ
_Maria, Mater gratiae, Mater misercordiae,
Tu me ab hoste protege, et hora mortis suscipe!_
THE CONDEMNED
O mother of God!
VOICES
Miséricorde!
THE ABBÉ
_Omnes sancti Angeli, et omnes Sancti
Intercedite pro me, et mihi succurrite!_
VOICES
Miséricorde!
SOLDIERS
Petit-Pierre!—André!
‘Tis time for yonder folk beneath the trees!
THE ABBÉ
_Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis,
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Amen!_
[_The condemned arise from their knees._
THE SOLDIERS
Come your ways!
[THE ABBÉ _and the condemned vanish into the mist
upon the river bank_.
VOICES
Ayez pitié!
[YVETTE _rises from her knees. She plucks the yellow
broom that grows beneath the trees._
YVETTE
And if I may I will her servant be,
And I will bring her posies every day!
THE VOICES
We die!
SOLDIERS
So, two and two! Ha, ha!
[_There appears in mid-stream on the river Carrier’s
festal barge. It is lit from stem to stern. There is
music aboard, singing and revelry of men and women._
LAUGHTER FROM THE RIVER
Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
THE VOICES
They laugh! They sing!
[_A sound of singing from the passing barge._
A WOMAN’S VOICE
_Fair Chloris bathed her in the flood,
Young Damon watching, trembling stood,
Behind the frailest hawthorn wall!
The month was May—_
A MAN’S VOICE
No, Prairial!
THE WOMAN’S VOICE
_Her ivory limbs they gleamed and turned,
Young Damon’s heart so hotly burned,
Into the stream he leaped therefor!
It seemed July—_
THE MAN’S VOICE
No, Thermidor!
[_The barge passes._
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
O hearts so hard!
OTHER VOICES
Oh, woe! Adieu! Adieu!
[_An old woman speaks to_ YVETTE.
THE OLD WOMAN
They’ve drowned my son, my sailor son Michel!
Oh, oh, my heart! he’s drifting out to sea!
YVETTE
Poor mother!
THE OLD WOMAN
Oh, to and fro he sailed, he sailed!
The Indies knew him and the Northern Seas!
He’d bide at home a bit, then off he’d go,
Another voyage make, strange things to see!
Then home he’d come and of his travels tell.
Oh, oh, my son, my sailor son Michel!
[_The old woman passes on._
_Enter_ SÉRAPHINE.
SÉRAPHINE
I’ve sought her here, I’ve sought her there, in vain!
And perilous it is to seek one here!
YVETTE
Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
Yvette!
YVETTE
Where is monseigneur?
SÉRAPHINE (_weeping_)
I know not, I!—Saint Lazaire and Saint Jean!
I nursed thee ere thou wast so high!
YVETTE
Poor Séraphine! Dear Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
Alack!
They’re watching there!
YVETTE
Oh, then away!
‘Tis death to weep for one who dies! Away!
SÉRAPHINE (_weeping_)
Oh, oh! When thou wast but a little thing
Thou hadst the coaxing ways! Alack! Alack!
YVETTE
Poor Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
Dost mind the sunny path
Up the steep cliff to chapel in the woods?
YVETTE
I mind—I mind—To thy warm hand I clung,
A little child. Now I must walk alone!
SÉRAPHINE
Oh, oh! And thou wast Goddess yesterday,
The fairest Goddess ever seen, they say!
YVETTE
Speak not of that!
A VOICE (_calling_)
Séraphine! Séraphine!
YVETTE
It warns, that voice! Adieu, adieu, adieu!
Thou must begone!
SÉRAPHINE
If I do look at thee
I’ll stay forever here! Adieu! Adieu!—
Oh well-a-day! Oh well, oh well-a-day!
[_Exit_ SÉRAPHINE.
YVETTE
So late it grows, so long I’ve waited here!
I feel the morning air!—Will he not come?
O God! what if they’ve slain him otherwhere?
Ha! Death is busy far and near to-night!
They may have shot him yonder by the sea!
He may have sunk above, below this place!
Though Grégoire swore to me it would be here,
Here where they brought me would they bring him too,
And ere the set of moon we would be gone!—
O God! The cries of drowning men I’ve heard,
But not his voice among them! No, no, no!
He’ll make no moan, he will die loftily!—
Ah, God! only to see him ere I drown!
THE VOICES
Miséricorde!
SOLDIERS
Prenez garde! Halte là!
A MAN’S VOICE
I die who fought for France in bloody fields;
At Lille I fought, at Bordeaux, Avignon!
YVETTE
A soldier!
[_Another voice sings hoarsely._
THE VOICE
_Tremblez, tyrans! et vous perfides,
L’opprobre de tous les partis!
Tremblez, vos projets parricides
Viennent enfin recevoir leur prix!
Tout est soldat pour vous combattre—_
[_The voice dies._
YVETTE
A soldier!
ANOTHER VOICE
Diantre! A whiff of grapeshot now,
A sabre-cut, or e’en a trampling charge!
But this cold death—
[_The voice dies._
YVETTE
A soldier!
ANOTHER VOICE
Baste! I’ll tell
The Duc de Biron—
YVETTE
All soldiers!
_Enter_ DE VARDES _and_ GRÉGOIRE.
GRÉGOIRE
I tell you truth, monsieur—
DE VARDES
So dense the throng
I have looked up and down for this long hour,—
This hour so long, this hour so fatal short,
Seeing it is my latest hour of life,
And that I cannot find her whom I seek!
GRÉGOIRE
She is not dead, monsieur!
DE VARDES
So many are!
GRÉGOIRE
I would have known.
DE VARDES
Some æons past thou wast
A serviceable fellow! Get thee gone!
And if thou findest her, I’ll give thee thanks,
I have no gold—
GRÉGOIRE
Monsieur le Baron—
DE VARDES
Go!
[_Exit_ GRÉGOIRE.
And if I find her not, if time shall fail,
Then through thy labyrinth, Eternity,
Love’s silken clue shall lead me safe at last—
YVETTE
Monseigneur!
[DE VARDES _turns_.
DE VARDES
Yvette!
[_Two soldiers of the Company of Marat pass beneath
the trees._
THE FIRST SOLDIER
‘Tis near the cockcrow!
What devil’s work we’ve had, and have!
THE SECOND SOLDIER
Courage!
There are not so many now! Then home and sleep!
[_They pass._
DE VARDES
Oh, rest thee on thy lover’s breast, my heart!
My life, my love, my dear, my Duchess Jeanne!
Oh, ‘neath the moon thou’rt like a lily flower!
YVETTE
René, René!
DE VARDES
Thy lips!
[_They kiss._
No, no, thou’rt not
That Vivien whom I did call thee once.
She was an evil fay; thou’rt pure and good!
Nor art thou that fair piteous Duchess Jeanne
Who died for love, whose look thou wearest now!
Thou never wast that woman star-begirt,
Whom they did hail as Goddess here in Nantes.
No Goddess thou, thou wan and broken flower!—
This is green Morbec, thou’rt the herd girl there
And I thy fisher, home from out the west.
My heart, my love, my silver rose, my _douce_!
YVETTE
The flowers drifting from the fragrant trees!
Unearthly light—
[_They kiss._
DE VARDES
Now come, Eternity!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
It is so sad to die!—No, no, ‘tis sweet!
Adieu, adieu!
SOLDIERS
So, down! Ha, ha! _Les Noces
Républicaines!_
DE VARDES
_Les Noces Républicaines!_
YVETTE
‘Tis what they call this death—
SOLDIERS
So near the dawn!
Here are the _tricoteuses_.
VOICES OF WOMEN
Not yet they’ve done!
Diantre! So many weddings in one night!
Here are the girls from Carrier’s barge at last!
OTHER VOICES
Petit-Pierre! André!
SOLDIERS
Céleste—Nanon!
Zephine, ‘Toinette!
THE WOMEN
_Vive le son! vive le son!
Dansons la Carmagnole!_
A TRICOTEUSE
‘Tis light enough to knit! I’ll sit me down.
Fi! how the grass is trampled here!
A SOLDIER
Lalain and Lambertye—
A WOMAN
We left them there
Upon the barge, Lalain and Lambertye;
And they were drinking deep, and dicing too,
And Lalain had his arm round Angélique!
[_They laugh._
DE VARDES
Seest thou not through yonder trees the stone,
The Druid Stone where I did see thee first
When thou didst lie asleep upon the grass?
How long I stood and looked, thou dost not know!
YVETTE
Beside the stream I slept and dreamed of thee!
I knew it not, but sure I dreamed of thee,
For in my sleep I thought I saw a king!
DE VARDES
O love!—
YVETTE
It is Morbec arises there!
The sands that stretch above the idle waves,
And all the little shells upon the shore!
DE VARDES
The convent bell is ringing! Seest thou not
The fountain old, the fruit trees in the sun?
YVETTE
Oh, life was never made for happiness!
The hour’s too short, the wine spills from the cup,
The blossom’s shaken ere we know ‘tis sweet!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
A SOLDIER
Those two have waited long!
Hi! Petit-Pierre, ‘tis time to marry them—
DE VARDES
This Saint John’s Eve we’ll walk in other woods!
And we will find and name a castle fair,
And rose and heartsease we will plant thereby!
Here ends this road, but we must onward go.
There is a longer hour, a deeper cup!
The blossom’s gone, but we shall see the fruit.
And life was made for happiness, my _douce_!
A VOICE FROM THE RIVER
_Mourir pour la patrie,
Mourir pour la France._
DE VARDES
It is a hymn of Chénier’s.—France! France!
Not since the days of Clovis hast thou lacked
Strong sons to die for thee, thou Lioness!
But now thy own brood hast thou eaten up,
And in the desert shalt thou roar alone,
Seeing the hunters nearer, nearer creep!
They’ll snare thee fast, they’ll make of thee a show!
France, France!—and yet thy sons shall ransom thee!
A SOLDIER
A length of rope, André!
ANOTHER
Petit-Pierre—
YVETTE
They come!
DE VARDES
I will go first.
YVETTE
‘Tis not their way!
They’ll bind us fast together, throw us in
Bound fast together—
DE VARDES
Is it so? Why, then
We are together still, my heart, my life!
We will not struggle as we sink to rest.
A SOLDIER
Man and woman, come your ways!
SECOND SOLDIER
The river
Waits, your marriage bed is spread!
[_The knitting women sing from the river bank._
THE WOMEN
_We are the tricoteuses!
Our wool we knit beneath the sun and moon!
Knit! knit! knitting every one!_
_We are the tricoteuses!
The skein we knit is ravelled out full soon!
Knit! knit! the knitting now is done!_
YVETTE
The light is growing in the east! My heart
It is so full I cannot speak to thee!
DE VARDES
Put thou thine arms about my neck, Yvette,
And lay thy head upon thy lover’s heart,
And veil thine eyes with all thy shadowy hair.
Now let them bind us with what cords they will,
The spirit moves unbound, triumphant, free,
Not through the Loire, but through a vaster stream!
Oh, it is something dimly great to die!
And then to die together, is’t not sweet?
And not through illness, age, decrepitude,
But the armed man is ready for new wars.
And thou—
YVETTE
I hear the lark!
A SOLDIER
Come, come away!
[YVETTE _and_ DE VARDES _move together towards
the river, into the mist and the shadow of the trees_.
A VOICE FROM THE RIVER
_Vive la République!_
_CURTAIN_
[Illustration]
The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS
U · S · A
------------------------------------------------------------------------
By Mary Johnston
THE GODDESS OF REASON. _A Drama._
Tall 12mo, $2.00, _net_. Postage
extra.
AUDREY. With Illustrations in color.
Crown 8vo, $1.50.
PRISONERS OF HOPE. With
Frontispiece. Crown 8vo, $1.50.
TO HAVE AND TO HOLD. With 8
Illustrations by HOWARD PYLE, E.
B. THOMPSON, A. W. BETTS, and
EMLEN MCCONNELL. Crown 8vo,
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HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & CO.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s note:
1. Moved advertisement from first page to the last page.
2. Silently corrected typographical errors.
3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.