diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/53817-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/53817-0.txt | 10866 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 10866 deletions
diff --git a/old/53817-0.txt b/old/53817-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 78832be..0000000 --- a/old/53817-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,10866 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Goddess of Reason, by Mary Johnston - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: The Goddess of Reason - A Drama in Five Acts - - -Author: Mary Johnston - - - -Release Date: December 27, 2016 [eBook #53817] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GODDESS OF REASON*** - - -E-text prepared by Richard Tonsing, MFR, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/goddessofreason00johnuoft - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -THE GODDESS OF REASON - -A Drama in Five Acts - - -THE GODDESS OF REASON - -by - -MARY JOHNSTON - - - - - - - -Boston and New York -Houghton, Mifflin and Company -MDCCCCVII - -Copyright 1907 by Mary Johnston -All Rights Reserved - -Published May 1907 - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TO - THE HOUSEHOLD AT WOODLEY - THIS DRAMA - IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED - -[Illustration] - - - - - _DRAMATIS PERSONÆ_ - - - RENÉ-AMAURY DE VARDES, _Baron of Morbec_ - RÉMOND LALAIN, _Deputy from Vannes_ - THE ABBÉ JEAN DE BARBASAN - COUNT LOUIS DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - CAPTAIN FAUQUEMONT DE BUC - MELIPARS DE L’ORIENT - ENGUERRAND LA FÔRET - THE VIDAME DE SAINT-AMOUR - THE ENGLISHMAN - GRÉGOIRE - RAÔUL THE HUNTSMAN - A SERGEANT OF HUSSARS - - YVETTE - THE MARQUISE DE BLANCHEFÔRET - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - MME. DE VAUCOURT - MME. DE MALESTROIT - MME. DE PONT À L’ARCHE - SISTER FIDELIS - SISTER SIMPLICIA - SISTER BENEDICTA - NANON - CÉLESTE - ANGÉLIQUE - SÉRAPHINE - AN ACTRESS - -_Guests of De Vardes; Peasants; Lackeys; Soldiers; Nuns; Young Girls; -The Mob at Nantes; Participants in the Fête of the Goddess of Reason; -Republican Commissioners; National Soldiers; Women of the Revolution; -Royalist Prisoners; Gaolers; Judges; Executioners; etc., etc._ - - - - - _TIME 1791–1794_ - - - ACT I. The Château of Morbec in Brittany. - - ACT II. The Garden of the Convent of the Visitation in Nantes. - - ACT III. A Square in Nantes. - - ACT IV. A Church in Nantes used as a Prison. - - ACT V. _Scene I._ A Judgment Hall in Nantes. - - _Scene II._ The Banks of the Loire. - -[Illustration] - - - - - THE - - GODDESS OF REASON - - - - - _ACT I_ - - - _The Château of Morbec in Brittany. A formal garden and a wide - terrace with stone balustrade. In the background the château, - white and peak-roofed, with great arched doors. Beyond it a - distant prospect of a Breton village and of the sea beating - against a dangerous coast. To the left a thick wood, to the right - a perspective of garden alleys, fountains, and flowering trees. On - the terrace a small table set with bread, fruit, and wine. In the - angle formed by the level of the terrace and the wide stone steps - leading into the garden the statue of a nymph, its high and broad - pedestal draped with ivy. Scattered on the terrace and steps a - litter of stones, broken cudgels, rusty and uncouth weapons. The - sun shines, the trees wave in the wind, the birds sing, the - flowers bloom. It is a summer morning in the year 1791._ - - _Enter from one of the garden paths a lackey and_ RÉMOND LALAIN. - LALAIN _wears a riding dress with a tricolour cockade_. - - LALAIN - - Say to Monsieur the Baron of Morbec, - Rémond Lalain, the Deputy from Vannes, - In haste is riding north, but hath drawn rein— - Hearing to-day of Baron Henri’s death— - And audience craves that he may homage pay - To Morbec’s latest lord! - - THE LACKEY - - I go, monsieur! - - [_Exit the lackey._ - - LALAIN - - These gloomy towers! - - [_He muses as he paces the garden walk before the - terrace._ - - Mirabeau is dead! - Gabriel Riquetti, dead, I salute thee, - Great gladiator! Who treads now the sand - That yesterday was trod by Mirabeau? - Barnave, Lameth, ye are too slight of frame! - There’s Lafayette. No, no, _mon général_! - Robespierre? Go to, thou little man! - Jean Paul Marat, dog leech and People’s Friend? - Wild beast to fight with beast! Faugh! Down, Marat! - Who stands this course, why, that man’s emperor! - Now how would purple look upon Marat? - Jacques Danton?—Danton! Hot Cordelier! - Dark Titan forging to a Titan’s end! - Shake not thy black locks from the tribune there, - Nor rend the heavens with thy mighty voice! - ‘Tis not for thee, the victor’s golden crown, - The voice of France— - - [_The doors of the château open. Enter three lackeys - bearing a great gilt chair, which they place with - ceremony at the head of the steps which lead from - the terrace into the garden._ - - FIRST LACKEY (_stamping with his foot upon the terrace_) - - The gilded chair place here! - We always judge our peasants from this chair, - We lords of Morbec! North terrace, gilt chair! - - SECOND LACKEY - - Baron Henri sat here the day he died! - - FIRST LACKEY - - Now Baron René takes his turn! - - [_They place the chair._ - - LALAIN (_as before_) - - Danton! - Why not Lalain? It is as good a name! - Mirabeau’s dead! Out of my way, Danton! - - THIRD LACKEY (_gathering up the stones which lie - upon the terrace_) - - I’ll throw these stones into the shrubbery! - - SECOND LACKEY (_lifting a rusty scythe from the steps_) - - This scythe I’ll fling into the fountain! - - FIRST LACKEY (_his hands in his pockets_) - - Hé! - One sees quite well that we have stood a siege! - - [_The lackeys gather up the stones, the sticks, the broken - and rusty tools and weapons._ - - LALAIN - - Where lives the man who doth not worship Might? - O Goddess All-in-All! make me thine own, - As the bright moon did make Endymion; - And I will rim thy Phrygian cap with stars, - And give thee for thy cestus the tricolour! - - _Enter_ GRÉGOIRE. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Monsieur Lalain! - - LALAIN (_waving his hand_) - - My good Grégoire! - - GRÉGOIRE (_to the lackeys_) - - Despatch! - Monseigneur will be here anon! - - [_He glances at the stones, etc._ - - Rubbish! - Away with’t! - - [_Passing the statue of the nymph, he strikes it with - his hand._ - - Will you forever smile? - Stone lips that long have smiled at bitter wrong! - You might, my dear, have lost that smile last night! - - FIRST LACKEY - - Last night was something like! - - SECOND LACKEY (_throwing the stones one by one into - the shrubbery_) - - Sangdieu! last night - My heart was water! - - GRÉGOIRE - - Ah, poltroon; your heart! - - THIRD LACKEY (_making play with a broken stick_) - - Our baron’s a swordsman! His rapier flashed! - - FIRST LACKEY - - _Keen as the blade of the Sieur de Morbec!_ - —And that is a saying old as the sea! - - SECOND LACKEY - - _Hard as the heart of the Sieur de Morbec!_ - —And that was said before the sea was made! - - [_They laugh._ - - THIRD LACKEY (_pointing to_ LALAIN) - - What’s he? - - GRÉGOIRE - - The advocate Rémond Lalain. - - THIRD LACKEY - - A patriot? - - GRÉGOIRE - - Hotter than Lanjuinais! - - THIRD LACKEY - - What does he at Morbec? - - GRÉGOIRE - - How should I know? - His home was once within the village there, - And now and then he visits the curé. - - FIRST LACKEY - - The curé! He visits Yvette Charruel! - - LALAIN (_as before_) - - Mirabeau and I were born in the south. - Oh, the orange flower beside the wall! - And the shaken olives when Mistral wakes! - - GRÉGOIRE - - Once they were friends, Baron René and he; - The Revolution came between— - - FIRST LACKEY (_He sends a pike whirling into the - shrubbery_) - - Long live - The Revolution! - - GRÉGOIRE - - My friend, ‘twill live - Without thy bawling! - - THIRD LACKEY (_arranging the bottles upon the small - table_) - - So! The red wine here, - The white wine there! - - (_To a fallen bottle._) Stand up, Aristocrat! - - LALAIN - - The sun is high! - - [_He approaches the terrace and addresses the nearest - lackey._ - - How long must I await - The pleasure of Monsieur the Baron here? - - THE LACKEY - - Monsieur? - - LALAIN - - Go, fellow, go! and to him say, - Rémond Lalain— - - THE LACKEY - - I go, monsieur! - - [_Exit the lackey._ - - LALAIN - - ‘Tis well, - René de Vardes, to keep me waiting thus! - - [GRÉGOIRE _pours wine into a glass and descending - the steps offers it to_ LALAIN. - - GRÉGOIRE - - The old vintage, Monsieur Lalain! - - LALAIN - - Thanks, friend. - The day is warm. - - [_He raises the glass to his lips. Laughter and voices - from the winding garden paths._ - - What’s that? - - GRÉGOIRE (_shrugging_) - - More guests, no doubt! - The count, the vidame, and the young marquise! - All Morbihan felicitates Morbec, - And brings our baron bonbons and bouquets, - As if there were no hunger and no frost! - - [_A distant sound from the wood of harsh and complaining - voices._ - - LALAIN - - And that? - - GRÉGOIRE - - Soldiers and huntsmen beat the woods; - For half the village is in hiding there, - Having assayed last night to burn Morbec! - As if ‘twould burn! This time the soldiers came! - Mon Dieu! the times are bad. - - LALAIN (_abruptly_) - - All the village! - Did Yvette Charruel— - - GRÉGOIRE (_shrugging_) - - Yvette! - - FIRST LACKEY (_from the terrace_) - - Yvette! - - SECOND LACKEY - - I warrant monseigneur will hang Yvette! - - [LALAIN _pours the wine upon the ground and throws - the glass from him. It shatters against the balustrade. - Laughter and voices. Guests appear in the garden - walks, the women in swelling skirts of silk or muslin, - powdered hair and large hats; the men in brocade - and silk with cane swords, or in hunting dress._ - - A LADY (_curtseying_) - - Monsieur le Vicomte! - - A GENTLEMAN (_bowing_) - - Madame la Baronne! - - MME. DE MALESTROIT - - A heavenly day. - - ENGUERRAND LA FÔRET - - No cloud in the sky. - - THE VIDAME (_saluting a gentleman_) - - Count Louis de Château-Gui! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Ah, monsieur! - - [_Presents his snuff-box._ - - MME. DE PONT À L’ARCHE - - For laces I advise Louise. Fichus? - The Bleeding Heart above the flower shop. - - THE VIDAME - - —A _lettre de cachet_. To Vincennes he went! - - MME. DE MALESTROIT - - But ah! what use of laces or fichus! - We emigrate so fast there’s none to see! - - THE ENGLISHMAN - - I quote a great man—my Lord Chesterfield: - “Exist in the unhappy land of France - All signs that history hath ever shown”— - - MME. DE PONT À L’ARCHE - - The Queen wore carnation, Madame, pale rose, - The Dauphin— - - LALAIN - - What do I in this galley? - (_To_ GRÉGOIRE.) I’ll walk aside! - - [_Exit_ LALAIN. - - COUNT LOUIS (_to_ GRÉGOIRE) - - Was that Rémond Lalain? - - GRÉGOIRE - - It was, Monsieur le Comte. - - COUNT LOUIS - - Ah, scélérat! - - THE VIDAME - - The talked-of Deputy for Vannes? - - LA FÔRET - - Tribune - Eloquent as Antony! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Demagogue! - - THE ENGLISHMAN - - I heard him in the Jacobins. He spoke, - And then they went and tore a palace down! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Stucco! - - _Enter, laughing_, MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI, MELIPARS DE - L’ORIENT, _and_ CAPTAIN FAUQUEMONT DE BUC. DE - L’ORIENT _has in his hand a paper of verses_. - - My daughter and De L’Orient, - Captain Fauquemont de Buc! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - Messieurs, mesdames! - The poet and his verses! - - THE COMPANY - - Ah, verses! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Who is the fair, Monsieur de L’Orient? - Lalage or Laïs or little Fleurette? - Men sang of Célestine when I was young,— - Ah, Célestine, behind thy white rose tree! - - DE L’ORIENT - - I do not sing of love, Monsieur le Comte! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - He sings of this day— - - DE BUC - - The Eve of Saint John. - - DE L’ORIENT - - It is a Song of Welcome to De Vardes! - - DE BUC - - But yesterday poor Colonel of Hussars! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - To-day Monsieur the Baron of Morbec! - - DE L’ORIENT - - _Mars to Bellona leaves the tented field._ - - DE BUC - - That’s Bouillé at Metz! Kling! rang our spurs— - De Vardes’ and mine—from Verdun to Morbec! - - DE L’ORIENT - - _The warrior hastens to his native weald._ - - COUNT LOUIS - - Would I might see again Henri de Vardes! - - DE BUC - - It would affright you, sir! The man is dead. - - COUNT LOUIS - - Ah, while he lived it was as did become - A nobleman of France and Brittany! - He was my friend; together we were young! - From dawn to dusk, from dusk to dawn again, - We searched for pleasure as for buried gold, - And found it, too, in days when we were young! - From every flint we struck the golden sparks, - We plucked the thistle as we plucked the rose, - And battle gave for every star that shone! - O nymphs that laughing fled while we pursued! - O music that was made when we were young! - O gold we won and duels that we fought! - _On guard, monsieur, on guard! Sa! sa! A touch! - What shall we drink? Where shall we dine? Ma foi! - There’s a melting eye at the Golden Crown! - The Angel pours a Burgundy divine! - Come, come, the quarrel’s o’er! So, arm in arm!_ - O worlds we lost and won when we were young! - O lips we kissed within the jasmine bower! - O sirens singing in the clear moonlight!— - With Bacchus we drank, with Apollo loved, - With Actæon hunted when we were young! - The wax-lights burned with softer lustre then. - The music was more rich when we were young. - Violet was the perfume for hair powder, - Ruffles were point and buckles were brilliant - And lords were lords in the old land of France! - We did what we would, and _lettres de cachet_, - Like cooing doves they fluttered from our hands! - - DE L’ORIENT - - _Our tribute take, last of a noble line!_ - - COUNT LOUIS - - Women! There will come no more such women! - - DE L’ORIENT - - _The laurel and the empress rose we twine._ - - COUNT LOUIS - - And Henri’s gone! And now his cousin reigns,— - René de Vardes that hath been years away! - The King is dead. Well, well, long live the King! - They say he’s brave as Crillon, handsome too, - With that _bel air_ that no De Vardes’s without! - - _Enter_ MME. DE VAUCOURT _followed by the_ ABBÉ JEAN DE - BARBASAN. - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - Monsieur l’Abbé! - - DE BUC - - Madame de Vaucourt! - - MME. DE VAUCOURT (_with outspread hands_) - - You’ve heard? Last night they strove to burn Morbec! - - ALL - - What? - - MME. DE VAUCOURT - - The peasants! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Again! - - DE BUC - - Ah, I am vexed. - Messieurs, mesdames, the Baron of Morbec - Silence enjoined, or the tale I’d have told! - The abbé is so bold— - - THE ABBÉ - - De Buc’s so proud! - And just because he brought us help from Vannes! - The red Hussars to hive the bees again! - - THE ENGLISHMAN - - The seigneur and his peasants are at odds? - - THE ABBÉ - - Slightly! - - COUNT LOUIS (_complacently_) - - Henri was hated! Hate descends - With the land. - - DE L’ORIENT - - There is a girl of these parts— - - COUNT LOUIS - - Eh? - - DE L’ORIENT - - She plays the firebrand. - - COUNT LOUIS - - Bah! - - DE L’ORIENT - - She hath - The loveliest face! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Hm! - - THE ABBÉ - - I am unscathed. - De Vardes is slightly wounded! - - ALL - - Oh! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Morbleu! - And how did it happen, Monsieur l’Abbé? - - THE ABBÉ - - Behold us at our ease in the great hall, - De Vardes and I, a-musing o’er piquet! - Voltaire beside us, for we read “Alzire,” - A wine as well, more suave than any verse; - A still and starlit night, soft, fair, and warm; - Wax-lights, and roses in a china bowl. - He laid aside his sword and I my cap, - All tranquilly at home, the Two Estates! - He held carte blanche, I followed with quatorze. - The roses sweetly smelled, the candles burned, - At peace we were with nature and mankind.— - A crash of painted glass! a whirling stone! - A candle out! the roses all o’erturned! - The thunder of a log against our doors! - A clattering of sabots! a sudden shout! - _Morbec, Morbec, it is thy Judgment Night! - Admission, admission, Aristocrats!_ - Red turns the night, the servants all rush in. - _Sieur! Sieur!_ the lackeys moan and wring their hands. - _Give, give!_ the terrace croaks. _Burn, Morbec, burn!_ - The great bell swings in the windy tower - Till the wolves in the forest pause to hear. - _Fall, Morbec, fall! France has no need of thee!_ - Upsprings a rosy light! a smell of smoke! - Mischief’s afoot! The Baron of Morbec - Lays down his cards and takes his rapier up, - Hums _Le Sein de sa Famille_, shuts _Alzire_, - Resignedly rises— - - COUNT LOUIS (_rubbing his hands_) - - Expresses regret - That monsieur his guest— - - THE ABBÉ - - Should be incommoded - And turns to the door. I levy the tongs. - The seneschal Grégoire hauls from the wall - An ancient arquebus! The lackeys wail, - And nothing do, as is the lackey’s wont! - Again the peasants thunder at the door! - _Open, De Vardes! Oh, hated of all names! - The new is as the old! Death to De Vardes!_ - The log strikes full, and now a panel breaks; - In comes a hand that brandishes a pike; - A voice behind, _We’ve come to sup with thee! - For thou hast bread and we have none, De Vardes!_ - - THE ENGLISHMAN - - Ha, ha! ha, ha! ha, ha! - - COUNT LOUIS - - You laugh, monsieur? - - THE ABBÉ - - I like calmness myself. Calm of the sea, - Calm skies, the calm spring, and calmness of mind! - A tempest’s plebeian! So I admired - René de Vardes when he walked to the door - And opened it! Behold the whole wolf pack, - As lean as ‘twere winter! canaille all! - Sans-culottes and tatterdemalions, - Mere dust of the field and sand of the shore; - Humanity’s shreds would follow the mode, - And burn the château of their rightful lord! - De Vardes’ peasants in fine. _Mort aux tyrans! - À bas Aristocrat! Vive la patrie! - Vive la Révolution!_ In they pressed, - Gaunt, haggard, and shrill, and full in the front— - Young and fair, conceive! dark-eyed and red-lipped— - A fury, a mænad, a girl called— - - DE L’ORIENT - - Yvette! - - THE ABBÉ - - So they named her, the peasants of Morbec, - Named and applauded the dark-eyed besom! - When, De Vardes’ drawn rapier just touching - Her breast-knot of blue as she stood in his path, - Up went her brown hand, armed with a sickle!— - De Vardes is a known fencer,—‘tis lucky! - His wound is not deep, and in the left arm! - - THE VIDAME - - She may hang for that! How high I forget - The gallows should be— - - COUNT LOUIS (_offering his snuff-box_) - - Monsieur le Vidame, - Thirty feet, I believe! - - THE VIDAME - - But not in chains— - - COUNT LOUIS - - No! It was the left arm. - - DE L’ORIENT - - What did De Vardes? - - THE ABBÉ - - De Vardes, with Liancourt and Rochefoucauld, - Holds that the peasant doth possess a soul! - I think it hurt him to the heart that he, - New come to Morbec, and unknown to these, - His vassals of the village, field, and shore, - Should be esteemed by them an enemy, - A Baron Henri come again, forsooth! - But since ‘twas so, out rapier! parry! thrust! - Diable! he’s a swordsman to my mind! - The mænad with the sickle he puts by; - Runs through the arm a clamourer of corvée, - Brings howling to his knees a sans-culotte, - And strikes a flail from out a claw-like hand! - They falter, they give way, the craven throng! - The women cry them on; they swarm again. - His bright steel flashes, rise and fall my tongs! - But the lackeys are naught, and Grégoire finds - A flaw in his musket; he will not fire! - Pardieu! the things this Revolution kills! - There is no faithfulness in service now! - Our peasants grow bold. Ma foi! we’re at bay! - De Vardes and De Barbasan, rapier, tongs! - Wild blows and wild cries, blown smoke and a glare, - And the girl Yvette with her reaping hook - Still pushed to the front by the women there! - Upon De Vardes’ white sleeve the blood is dark, - And his breath comes fast! I see the event - As ‘twill look in print in Paris next week, - In _L’Ami du Peuple or Journal du Roi_! - “The Vain Defence of an Ancient Château! - When we Burn so Much, why not Burn the Land?” - And I break with my tongs a young death’s-head - That’s bawling—What think you?—_Vive la République._ - - COUNT LOUIS - - Death and damnation! - - THE ABBÉ - - So I said! And then, - Quite, I assure you, in time’s very nick, - The saint De Vardes prays to smiled on him! - A thunder clap!—_Pas de charge! En avant!_ - Captain Fauquemont de Buc and his Hussars! - - DE BUC - - Warned by the saint, we galloped from Auray! - - THE ABBÉ - - Like the dead leaves borne afar on the blast, - Or like the sea mist when the sun rises, - Or like the red deer when the horn’s sounded,— - Like anything in short that’s light o’ heel,— - Vanished our peasants! The women went last; - And last of all the mænad with the eyes! - Jesu! She might have been Jeanne d’Arc, that girl! - The man who captures her has a hand full!— - To the deep woods they fled, are hunted now.— - De Vardes and I gave welcome to De Buc, - Put out the fire, attended to our wounds, - Resumed our cards, and finished our _Alzire_— - The Château of Morbec stands, you observe! - - [_The company applauds._ - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - But who was the saint?— - - DE BUC - - Ah, here is De Vardes! - - _Enter_ DE VARDES. _He is dressed in slight mourning and - carries his arm in a sling._ - - THE GUESTS - - Monsieur the Baron of Morbec! - - DE VARDES - - Welcome, - The brave and the fair, my old friends and new! - Welcome to Morbec! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Ah, your wounded arm!— - Our regret is profound! - - DE VARDES - - It is nothing. - The fraternal embrace of the people! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Oh, the people! - - MME. DE VAUCOURT - - The people! - - DE L’ORIENT - - The people! - - COUNT LOUIS - - My friend, permit us to hope you will make - Of the people a signal example! - - DE VARDES - - They are misguided. - - COUNT LOUIS - - Misguided! Morbleu! - - DE VARDES - - I will talk to them. - - COUNT LOUIS - - Monsieur le Baron, - Let your soldiers talk with a bayonet’s point, - Your bailiffs with a rope— - - MME. DE VAUCOURT - - But what good saint - Brought warning to Auray? - - DE L’ORIENT - - I guess that saint! - - [_A lackey appears upon the terrace._ - - THE LACKEY - - Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret! - - THE GUESTS - - Ah! - La belle marquise! - - _Enter_ THE MARQUISE. - - DE BUC - - The saint! - - DE VARDES - - My neighbour fair, - And to De Barbasan and me last night - A guardian angel— - - [_He greets_ THE MARQUISE. - - Madame la Marquise! - - THE MARQUISE - - Monsieur le Baron! - (_To the company._) Messieurs, mesdames! - - DE VARDES - - From Blanchefôret to Auray through the night - This lady rode— - - THE MARQUISE (_with gayety_) - - Ah, how I rode last night, - To Auray through the dark! This way it was: - I overheard two peasants yestereve - As in a lane I sought for eglantine. - “How long hath Morbec stood?” said one. “Too long! - But when to-morrow dawns ‘twill not be there! - And we were born, I think, to burn châteaux!— - Ten, by the village clock—forget it not!” - - THE ABBÉ - - Ah, ay, the while I dealt the clock struck ten. - - THE MARQUISE - - It was already dusk.—Like grey death moths - They slipped away! I knew not whom to trust, - For in these times there’s no fidelity, - No faithful groom, no steadfast messenger! - My little page brought me my Zuleika. - I knew the red Hussars were at Auray, - And that ‘twas said they loved their colonel well! - So to Auray came Zuleika and I! - - DE BUC - - We thought it was Dian in huntress dress! - - DE VARDES - - How deeply am I, Goddess, in thy debt! - No gold is coined wherewith I may repay! - - [_Music within._ - - THE MARQUISE - - Give me a rose from yonder tree! - - [_Laughing voices within._ - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - More guests, - They’re on the south terrace! - - DE L’ORIENT - - Violins too! - Ah, the old air— - - [_He sings._ - - _There lived a king in Ys, - In Ys the city old! - Beside the sounding sea - He counted o’er his gold._ - - DE VARDES - - Let us meet them. - - [_He gives his hand to_ THE MARQUISE. _Exeunt_ - COUNT LOUIS, THE ABBÉ, DE BUC, DE L’ORIENT, - _etc._ GRÉGOIRE _approaches_ DE VARDES. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Monseigneur—Monsieur the Deputy! - - DE VARDES - - Ah! - Say to monsieur I’m not at leisure now. - - [_Exeunt_ DE VARDES _and_ THE MARQUISE. _The - terrace and garden are deserted save for_ GRÉGOIRE, - _who seats himself in the shadow of the balustrade_. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Humph!—Monseigneur’s not at leisure. - - [_He draws a Paris journal from his pocket and - reads, following the letters with his forefinger._ - - What news? - What says Jean Paul Marat, the People’s Friend? - - [_A cry from the wood and the sound of breaking - boughs._ YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE _enter the garden_. - RAÔUL THE HUNTSMAN’S _voice within_. - - THE HUNTSMAN - - Hilloa!—Hilloa!—Hilloa! - - [YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE _turn towards one of the - garden alleys. Laughter and voices._ - - YVETTE - - Go not that way! - - SÉRAPHINE - - There is no way! - - THE HUNTSMAN (_within_) - - Hilloa!—Hilloa! - - SÉRAPHINE - - We’re caught! - - YVETTE - - The terrace there! Behind the stone woman! - - [_They cross the garden to the terrace._ - - SÉRAPHINE (_She stops abruptly and points to the table_) - - Bread! - - THE HUNTSMAN (_nearer_) - - Hilloa!—Hilloa! - - [YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE _turn from the table and - hide behind the tall, ivy-draped pedestal of the - statue_. GRÉGOIRE _looks up from his paper and sees - them_. - - _Enter_ RAÔUL THE HUNTSMAN. - - THE HUNTSMAN - - This way they came! - - GRÉGOIRE (_jerking his thumb over his shoulder_) - - Down yonder path!—plump to the woods again! - - THE HUNTSMAN - - The Hussars from Auray have twenty rogues! - - GRÉGOIRE - - Indeed! - - THE HUNTSMAN - - These two and my bag’s full! - - [_Exit_ THE HUNTSMAN. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Diable! - - [_He reads aloud._ - - _Weary at last of intolerable wrong, - The peasants of Goy in Normandy rose - And burned the château. Who questions their right?_ - - [_He folds his paper._ - - Saint Yves! this stone is much harder than Goy! - - [_He looks fixedly at the statue and raises his voice._ - - Ma’m’selle who would smile at the trump of doom, - I think that all the village will be hanged! - And at its head that brown young witch they call - Yvette— - - _Reënter_ DE VARDES _and_ THE MARQUISE. - - DE VARDES (_to_ GRÉGOIRE) - - Begone! - - [_Exit_ GRÉGOIRE. DE VARDES _and_ THE MARQUISE - _rest beside the statue_, YVETTE _listening_. - - Why, what’s a soldier for? - But pity me, pity me, belle Marquise! - Since pity is so sweet! - - THE MARQUISE - - I’m sure it is - A fearful wound! - - DE VARDES - - A fearful wound indeed! - But ‘tis not in the arm! - - THE MARQUISE - - No, monsieur? - - DE VARDES - - No! - The heart! I swear that it is bleeding fast! - And I have naught wherewith to stanch the wound. - Your kerchief— - - THE MARQUISE - - Just a piece of lace! - - DE VARDES - - ‘Twill serve. - - THE MARQUISE (_giving her handkerchief_) - - Well, there!—Now tell me of last night. - - DE VARDES - - Last night! - Why, all this tintamarre was but a dream, - Fanfare of fairy trumpets while we slept. - A night it was for love-in-idleness, - And fragrant thoughts and airy phantasy! - There was no moon, but Venus shone as bright; - The honeysuckle blew its tiny horn - To tell the rose a moth was coming by. - _Clarice-Marie!_ sang all the nightingales, - Or would have sung were nightingales abroad! - _Hush, hush!_ the little waves kept whispering. - The ivy at your window still was peeping; - You lay in dreams, that gold curl on your breast! - - THE MARQUISE - - No, no! You cheat me not, monsieur! Last night - I did not sleep! - - DE VARDES - - Nor I! - - THE MARQUISE - - Miserable brigands! - - DE VARDES - - No, not brigands! Just wretched flesh and blood. - - THE MARQUISE - - You pity them? - - DE VARDES - - Ay. - - THE MARQUISE - - Were I a seigneur, - Lord of Morbec— - - DE VARDES - - Were I a poor fisher, - Sailing at sunrise home from the islands, - Over the sea, and all my heart singing! - And you were a herd girl slender and sweet, - With the gold of your hair beneath your cap, - And you kept the cows and you were my _douce_, - And you waved your hand from the green cliff head - When the sun and I came up from the sea!— - And there was a seigneur so great and grim - Who walked in his garden and said aloud, - “How many fish has he taken for me? - Which of her cows shall I keep for myself? - I leave him enough to pay for the Mass - The day he is drowned, and the girl shall have - The range of the hills for her one poor cow! - Why should the fisher fret, the herd girl weep? - There is no reason in a serf’s dull heart! - I might have taken all. It is my right!” - La belle Marquise, what would the herd girl do? - And should the fisher suffer and say naught? - - THE MARQUISE - - There is no fisher nor no herd girl here. - How fair the roses of Morbec, monsieur! - - DE VARDES - - Ay, they are lovely queens. They know it too! - I better like the heartsease at your feet. - - THE MARQUISE - - It is a peasant flower!—Sieur de Morbec, - Have you never loved? - - DE VARDES - - How fair is the day! - For loving how fit! ‘Tis the Eve of Saint John. - - THE MARQUISE - - Yes. - - DE VARDES - - Last year I loved on this very day. - Take the omen, madame! - - THE MARQUISE - - We had not met, - You and I! - - DE VARDES - - Ah, ‘tis true! We had not met!— - And so, fair as you are, you were not there, - In Paimpont Wood, on the Eve of Saint John? - - THE MARQUISE - - No! - - DE VARDES - - I wonder who was! - - THE MARQUISE - - In Paimpont Wood! - It is haunted! - - DE VARDES - - On the Eve of Saint John - I rode from Morbec here to Chatillon, - And through the wood of Paimpont fared alone. - It is a forest where enchantments thrive, - And a fair dream doth drop from every tree! - The old, old world of bitterness and strife - Is remote as winter, remote as death. - It was high noon in the turbulent town; - But clocks never strike in the elfin wood, - And the sun’s ruddy gold is elsewhere spent. - The light was dim in the depths of Paimpont, - Green, reverend, and dim as the light may be - In a sea king’s palace under the sea. - The wind did not blow; the flowering bough - Was still as the rose on a dead man’s breast. - On velvet hoof the doe and fawn went by; - In other woods the lark and linnet sang; - A stealthy way was taken by the fox; - The badger trod upon the softest moss; - And like a shadow flitted past the hare. - Without a sound the haunted fountain played. - The oak boughs dreamed; the pine was motionless; - Its silver arms the beech in silence spread; - The poplar had forgot its lullaby. - It was as still as cloudland in the wood, - For in a hawthorn brake old Merlin sleeps, - And every leaf is hushed for love of him. - There through the years they sleep and listless dream, - The wood of Paimpont and the wizard old. - They dream of valleys where the lilies blow; - They dream of woodland gods and castles high, - Of faun and Pan and of the Table Round, - Of dryad trees and of a maiden dark— - That Vivien whom old Merlin once did love, - Vivien le Gai whose love was poisonous! - - THE MARQUISE - - I’ve heard it said by women spinning flax, - “Who wanders in Paimpont wanders in love; - Let him who loves in Paimpont Wood beware!” - - DE VARDES - - Ah, idle word! Oh, many silver bells - Since Vivien’s day have rung, Beware, beware! - And rung in vain, for in every clime - Lies Paimpont Wood, dawns the Eve of Saint John! - - THE MARQUISE - - And in the forest there whom did you love? - - DE VARDES - - I do not know. I have not seen her since, - Unless—unless I saw her face last night! - - YVETTE (_behind the base of the statue_) - - Oh!— - - DE VARDES - - Did you not hear a voice? - - THE MARQUISE - - ‘Tis the wind.— - You’re riding through the wood to Chatillon. - - DE VARDES - - It was a lonely forest, deep and vast, - A secret and a soundless trysting-place, - Where one might meet, nor be surprised to meet, - From out his past, or from his life to come, - A veilèd shape, a presence bitter-sweet, - A thing that was, a thing was yet to be! - It seemed a fatal place, a destined day. - Down a long aisle of beechen trees I rode, - And came upon a small and sunny vale, - And there I met a face from out a dream, - An ancient dream, a dark and lovely face.— - Give me your fan of pearl and ivory! - - [_He takes the fan from_ THE MARQUISE. - - I’ll turn enchanter, use it for my rod, - And make you see, Marquise, the very place! - - [_He points with the fan._ - - Here sprang the silver column of a beech; - There, mossy knees of a most ancient oak; - Yonder a wall of thickest foliage rose; - And here a misty streamlet flowed - With a voice more low than the dying fall - Of a trouvère’s lute in Languedoc, - And on its shore the slender flowers grew; - Upon a foxglove bell hung _papillon_; - And all around the grass was long and fine. - Within this sylvan space, ah, ages since! - The white-robed Druids in the cold moonlight - Had reared an altar stone of wondrous height; - The fane was there, the Druids were away. - All fragrant was the air, and sunny still,— - On the Eve of Saint John ‘tis ever so! - Above, the sky was blue without a cloud; - The sun stood sentinel o’er the haunted wood. - And there she lay, the woman of a dream, - Against the Druid Stone, amid the bloom; - Her eyes were on the stream; she leaned her ear; - From far away the trouvère played to her; - In flakes of gold the sunlight blessed her hair; - Her lips were red; she seemed a princess old; - Mid purple bloom she lay and gazed afar, - In the magic wood on a magic day, - Listening to hear the mighty trouvère play. - Was she a princess or a peasant maid? - I do not know, pardie! She may have been - That Vivien who wrought old Merlin wrong. - I cannot tell if she were rich or poor; - I only saw her face; I only know - I loved the dream I met in Paimpont Wood - As I did ride last year to Chatillon - On Saint John’s Eve.— - - [_He lays the fan upon the table._ - - So I have loved, Marquise! - - THE MARQUISE - - What did your pretty dream? - - DE VARDES - - As other dreams; - She fled! - - THE MARQUISE - - And you pursued? - - DE VARDES - - Yes, but in vain! - Trouble no dream that is dreamed in Paimpont! - The wood closed around her; she vanished quite. - It must have been that evil Vivien, - Since you, Marquise, have never trod the wood! - - THE MARQUISE - - Would I have fled? - - DE VARDES - - Why, then, without doubt - It was Vivien! But yet do you know - ‘Tis the Eve of Saint John, and here, last night, - I dreamed that I saw my dream again! - - [_The hand and arm of the statue fall, broken, to the - ground at the feet of_ THE MARQUISE. - - THE MARQUISE - - Ah! - - DE VARDES (_pushes the marble aside with his foot_) - - It is nothing! The stone was cracked last night. - Some crack-brained peasant had no better mark! - - THE MARQUISE - - ‘Tis a _présigne_!—I feel it.— - - DE VARDES - - You shudder! - - THE MARQUISE - - One trod near my grave! I’m suddenly cold! - - DE VARDES - - The sun never shines on this terrace! - - THE MARQUISE - - No! - ‘Twas an air from the Forest of Paimpont - Came over me! - - [_Voices within._ DE L’ORIENT _sings_. - - DE L’ORIENT - - _In Ys they did rejoice, - In Ys the wine was free; - The Ocean lent its voice - Unto that revelry!_ - - THE MARQUISE - - Oh, come away! - Let us find the violins and the sun! - There are other woods than Paimpont. Come away! - - [_Exeunt_ DE VARDES _and_ THE MARQUISE. - - YVETTE (_leaves the shadow of the statue_) - - ‘Twas he! That horseman who did waken me - That Saint John’s Eve I strayed in Paimpont Wood! - O Our Lady— - - SÉRAPHINE (_from the statue_) - - Saint Yves! There is bread! - - [YVETTE _takes from the table a loaf of bread and - throws it to_ SÉRAPHINE, _who springs upon it like a - famished wolf_. - - Ah—h—h! - - [_Setting her teeth in the loaf._ - - [YVETTE, _about to lay her hand upon another round of - bread, sees the fan lying upon the cloth. She leaves - the bread and takes up the fan. It opens in her hand._ - - YVETTE - - Oh!— - - [_She sits in the great chair and waves the fan slowly - to and fro._ - - Were I a lady fair and free, - I would powder my hair with dust of gold, - I would clasp a necklace around my throat, - Of jewels rare, and a gown I would wear, - Blue silk like Our Lady of Toute Remède! - My shoes should be made of golden stuff, - And a broidered glove should dress my hand, - My hand so white that a lord might kiss! - I would spin fine flax from a silver wheel, - I would weave a web for my bridal sheets, - I would sing of King Gradlon under the sea, - Were I a lady fair and free! - - _Enter_ GRÉGOIRE. - - SÉRAPHINE (_from the statue_) - - Yvette! - Yvette! - - YVETTE - - Peace, peace! - - GRÉGOIRE - - What have you there? - - YVETTE - - A fan. - So long I’ve wanted one! - - GRÉGOIRE - - A fan, forsooth! - You cannot eat a fan, drink it, wear it! - - YVETTE - - I would look on’t. - One day at Vannes the deputy’s sister - Showed me a fan, but it was not like this! - Oh, not like this with these wreaths of roses, - These painted clouds, this fairy ship! - - GRÉGOIRE - - The price - Would keep a peasant from starvation! - And belike it fell from the lifted hand - Of Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret! - - [_The fan breaks in_ YVETTE’S _hand_. - - SÉRAPHINE (_leaving the statue_) - - Thou evil-starred! - - YVETTE - - What have I done? - - GRÉGOIRE - - Diantre! - Now you will be beaten as well as hanged! - - YVETTE - - She called us miserable brigands! - - _Enter_ DE VARDES. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Saint Yves! Saint Hervé! Saint Herbot! - - DE VARDES (_to_ GRÉGOIRE) - - Voices? - - GRÉGOIRE - - Monseigneur? - - DE VARDES - - The fan of Madame la Marquise. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Monseigneur? - - DE VARDES (_perceiving_ YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE) - - What will you have, good people? - - SÉRAPHINE - - Saint Guenolé! Saint Thromeur! Saint Sulic!— - He did not see us in the dark last night! - - [DE VARDES _regards them more closely_. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Séraphine Robin—Yvette Charruel— - They are not bad folk, monseigneur! - - SÉRAPHINE - - No, faith! - - [DE VARDES _studies the name written upon a playing - card which he holds in his hand_. - - DE VARDES (_to_ GRÉGOIRE) - - Say to Monsieur the Deputy from Vannes - That I await him here. - - [_Exit_ GRÉGOIRE. DE VARDES _looks intently at_ - YVETTE. - - YVETTE - - It was so beautiful, - The fan—I took it in my hand—it broke! - - SÉRAPHINE - - All that she touches breaks! - - DE VARDES (_to_ YVETTE) - - Wast ever thou - In the Forest of Paimpont? - - YVETTE - - Oh, monseigneur! - Last Eve of Saint John, by the Druid Stone! - - DE VARDES - - Ah!— - - [_He takes the fan from_ YVETTE’S _hand and examines it_. - - Beyond all remedy!—Well, ‘tis done. - Do not tremble so! - - YVETTE - - I tremble not! - - _Enter_ LALAIN. - - SÉRAPHINE (_to_ YVETTE) - - Here’s Monsieur Lalain! - - YVETTE - - I care not, I! - - DE VARDES - - Ah, - Rémond Lalain! - - LALAIN (_stiffly_) - - Monsieur— - - DE VARDES - - A moment, pray, - Until I’ve spoken with these worthy folk! - - LALAIN (_coldly_) - - Monsieur the Baron’s pleasure! - - [_He moves aside, but in passing speaks to_ YVETTE. - - Yvette! Yvette! - - YVETTE - - Monsieur the Deputy? - - LALAIN - - Too fair art thou! - Beware! This is the Seigneur of Morbec! - - YVETTE - - I know. - - LALAIN - - He is the foe of France! - - YVETTE - - I know. - - DE VARDES (_to_ SÉRAPHINE) - - Your business, well? - - SÉRAPHINE (_stammering_) - - Our business, monseigneur?— - Oh, give me help, Saint Yves le Véridique!— - Our business?—Saint Michel!—Well, since we’re here!— - Monseigneur, was the pullet plump and sweet? - - DE VARDES - - The pullet? - - YVETTE - - Our pullet, monseigneur. - - LALAIN - - Distrained for rent! - - SÉRAPHINE - - And Lisette, monseigneur? - May we enquire for Lisette’s health? - - DE VARDES - - Lisette? - - YVETTE - - Our cow, monseigneur. - - LALAIN - - Taken for taxes! - - SÉRAPHINE - - It was the best Lisette! - - YVETTE - - She followed me - Through the green lanes, and o’er the meadows salt. - Her breath was sweet as May! - - DE VARDES - - It would please you - To have your cow again? - - YVETTE - - Oh, monseigneur! - Monseigneur, I’m the herd girl of Morbec! - - LALAIN (_aside_) - - They gaze into each other’s eyes! - - DE VARDES - - What is - Thy name? - - YVETTE - - Yvette. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Ay, ay, ‘tis so!—Yvette. - Called also The Right of the Seigneur!— - - DE VARDES - - The Right of the Seigneur! - - SÉRAPHINE (_nodding_) - - Just so. - - LALAIN (_aside_) - - Recall - Just one of a great seigneur’s privileges! - _Baiser des mariées_, in short, my friend! - - SÉRAPHINE - - O holy Saints! the night that she was born! - The thunder pealed, the sea gave forth a cry, - The forked lightnings played, the winds were out - And in the hut her mother lay and wailed, - And called on all the saints, the while Jehan - (That was her mother’s husband, monseigneur), - He stood and struck his heel against the logs. - Up flew the sparks, for all the wood was drift, - Salt with the sea, and every flame was blue. - I held the babe—Yvette, show monseigneur - The mark beneath the ear! - - YVETTE - - No! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Stubbornness! - ‘Tis there! - - LALAIN - - A birthmark—a small blue flower! - - DE VARDES - - Ah! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Ay! a little mark.—Jehan Charruel! - He was a violent man,—the sea breeds such! - He cursed Yvonne upon her pallet there, - So pale she was, and dying with the tide! - He cursed the saints, the purple mark, the babe, - And some one else I dare not name— - - LALAIN - - I dare! - Henri-Etienne-Amaury de Vardes, - Late Baron of Morbec! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Then out he goes, - A-weeping hard—Jehan—into the night. - Ouf! how it blew!— - The sea ran high, he met it in the dark, - Was drowned! Yvonne went with the ebb. Behold - Yvette! - - [SÉRAPHINE _retreats to the table, where she furtively - drinks from a half-emptied wineglass_. LALAIN _follows - her and the two talk together_. - - DE VARDES - - That purple flower, that violet - By nature limned upon thy slender throat,— - From north to south, from east to west ‘tis known! - A De Vardes bore that mark at Poitiers. - The marshal, Hugues the Fair, and black Arnaud, - The late baron—Why, what hast thou to do - With burning down châteaux to make a light - To show the Morbihan that purple flower? - - YVETTE - - O Our Lady of Thorns! - - DE VARDES - - Herd girl too fair! - And vision of Paimpont, fair as I dreamed! - How fair was thy errand last night? - - YVETTE - - Monseigneur! - - DE VARDES - - In the ashes of Morbec what shouldst thou find? - - YVETTE - - We only wished to make a little light— - A little light to let the neighbours know - That we were hungry! - - DE VARDES - - What neighbours hast thou? - - YVETTE - - Normandy and Maine, Anjou and Poitou, - The sea, the sky, and somewhat far away, - The Club of the Jacobins at Paris. - - DE VARDES - - Thy father was a nobleman of France! - - YVETTE - - I never had a father, monseigneur! - I had a mother, and she loved, they say, - She dearly loved the fisherman Jehan! - When for the dead I pray, I pray for them. - - DE VARDES - - How old art thou? - - YVETTE - - How old? Ah, let me see! - - [_She counts upon her fingers._ - - The year the hailstones fell and killed the wheat; - The year the flax failed and we made no songs; - The year I begged for bread; the bitter year - We buried Louison who died of cold, - And Jacques was hanged who shot the seigneur’s deer; - The Pardon of Sainte Anne I had a gown; - Came Angélique from Paris, told us how - The wicked Queen was smiling, smiling there; - Justine pined away, they shot Michel If, - Down fell the Bastille, I learned _Ça ira_; - The deputy came to the curé’s house, - Beside the deep blue sea I walked with him. - A day there was at Vannes, a glorious day, - When music played, and every banner waved, - And all the folk went mad and rang the bells! - _Vive la Révolution! Vive Mirabeau! - Vive Rémond Lalain!_ I wept when ‘twas o’er, - Last summer was so fair! I wandered far, - One day I wandered through a darksome wood— - ‘Twas on the Eve of good Saint John, I know! - - DE VARDES - - Ah— - - YVETTE - - The summer fled, the light, the warmth did go, - The winter came that was so cruel cold, - Cold as the dead! And hunger, monseigneur, - With bread at the château!—Died Baron Henri.— - The summer came again, the roses bloomed, - The roses bloomed, but they were not for us! - For us the dank seaweed, the thorny furze. - The lark sang well, but ah, it sang too high! - We could not lift our hearts to heaven’s gate; - We only heard the wind moan at our door. - We cried to the saints, but they took no heed! - One told us what they did at Goy and Vannes, - At Goy and Vannes, pardieu! they helped themselves! - We heard there had come a new lord to Morbec, - A soldier and a stranger to us all! - Three days have gone since I did sit alone - Upon the cliff edge in the waving grass; - The mew and curlew cried, the night wind blew, - And in the sunset glow red turned Morbec! - I thought of my mother, I thought of France, - I looked at the château cruel and high, - And as I was hungry I ate my black bread!— - I think, monseigneur, that I am nineteen. - - DE VARDES - - _Pauvre petite!_ - - YVETTE - - Ah, poor indeed! - - DE VARDES - - How dark - Thine eyes! - - YVETTE - - My mother’s were darker, they say! - - DE VARDES - - Thy face is the face of a picture there. - - YVETTE - - I know—the Duchess Jeanne, who died for love. - - DE VARDES - - Did Vivien teach thee magic in the wood? - - YVETTE - - Monseigneur? - - DE VARDES - - _Pauvre petite!_ - - YVETTE - - O Our Lady! - The roses smell so sweet— - - [LALAIN _comes forward_. - - LALAIN - - I pardon crave, - But I must sup to-night at Rennes. Please you, - Release this peasant girl! Affairs there are - Of which I’d speak— - - DE VARDES - - Ay, presently! - - LALAIN - - Now! - - DE VARDES - - Monsieur! - - LALAIN - - Citoyen René-Amaury Vardes— - - DE VARDES - - Is that, monsieur, the latest Paris mode? - _Citoyen René-Amaury Vardes_, - The _De_ left off, our hats (_Glances at_ LALAIN) left on! - - LALAIN (_removing his hat_) - - Monsieur - The Baron of Morbec! - - DE VARDES (_bowing_) - - Monsieur - The Deputy for Vannes! - - [_Laughter and voices within._ - - _Enter from the château_ THE MARQUISE _and_ MLLE. DE - CHÂTEAU-GUI _with_ DE L’ORIENT _and_ DE BUC. - - DE L’ORIENT (_sings_) - - _Then spake the king of Ys - Above the song and shout, - Bring here the golden key - That keeps the ocean out!_ - - THE MARQUISE - - Monsieur le Baron, - My lost fan! - - YVETTE (_aside_) - - Oh me! - - DE VARDES - - Madame la Marquise, - I will give you a fan that’s to my taste; - By Watteau painted, mounted by Laudet, - Fragile and fine, an Adonis of fans! - This that I broke I will keep for myself. - - [_Pockets the fan._ - - Forgive the mere accident! - - YVETTE - - Ah! - - SÉRAPHINE (_from the table_) - - Ah—h—h! - - LALAIN (_aside_) - - Gods! - If _I_ forgive! - - THE MARQUISE - - At Blanchefôret, monsieur, - The Watteau, Laudet, Adonis of fans, - I’ll take from your hand— - - DE VARDES - - I ride there anon, - (_Aside._) But not through the Forest of Paimpont - And not on the Eve of Saint John. - - THE MARQUISE - - Come soon, - My garden is sweetest in June. - - DE L’ORIENT (_sings_) - - _In Ys they sing no more, - In Ys the city old! - The waves are rolling o’er - The king and all his gold._ - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - Look at _my_ fan, Monsieur le Baron! - - [LALAIN _crosses to_ YVETTE. - - LALAIN - - Hast thou forgot, hast thou forgot, Yvette, - Thy part, thy lot, the very name they give thee? - This is Morbec, this is the brazen castle! - There are no roses here. - - YVETTE - - So generous - He was! - - LALAIN - - Generous! Oh, well are you called - The Right of the Seigneur! - - YVETTE (_passionately_) - - Give me not that - Detestable name! - - LALAIN - - So meek under wrongs— - - YVETTE - - Oh! - - LALAIN - - So quick to forget— - - YVETTE - - Oh! - - LALAIN - - _La patrie_— - Sworn oaths—the tricolour— - - YVETTE - - Anger me not! - - LALAIN - - On your lips _Ça Ira_! but in your heart - _O Richard, O mon Roi!_ - - YVETTE - - ‘Tis false! - - LALAIN - - And I—and I—Yvette! - - YVETTE - - Speak not to me! - - LALAIN - - You gaze at that man! I tell you he wooes - Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret! - - [YVETTE _crosses to_ _The Marquise_, DE VARDES, - _and the guests_. - - YVETTE (_to_ THE MARQUISE) - - Madame! - I broke the fan! I would pay if I might. - I would keep your cows, or spin your flax— - - THE MARQUISE - - The fan! - You broke the fan—not monsieur there! - - YVETTE - - No, I! - - THE MARQUISE - - Sainte Geneviève! - - _Enter_ COUNT LOUIS, THE VIDAME, MME. DE VAUCOURT, - _etc._ - - SÉRAPHINE - - Yvette! - - COUNT LOUIS - - La belle Marquise! - - [SÉRAPHINE _draws_ YVETTE _back to the base of the - statue_. COUNT LOUIS, THE MARQUISE, _and the - guests talk together_. LALAIN _crosses to_ DE VARDES. - - LALAIN - - René de Vardes! - - DE VARDES - - Rémond Lalain! - - LALAIN - - This day I bury our friendship of old! - - DE VARDES - - So! - - LALAIN - - I owe to you a thousand louis - Which I’ll repay, monsieur! - - DE VARDES - - I doubt it not. - - LALAIN - - Touch not the girl Yvette! - - DE VARDES - - At last the heart of the matter! I see - You have been through the Forest of Paimpont. - - LALAIN - - Or touch at your peril! - - DE VARDES - - Monsieur! - - LALAIN - - Oh, if - You lay your hand upon your sword, monsieur, - I’m for you there! - - DE VARDES - - Art mad, or drunk with power, - Monsieur the favourite of the Jacobins? - - LALAIN - - There’ll come a day when to be Jacobin - Is something more, monsieur, than to be king! - - DE VARDES - - Indeed! - - [_A Sergeant of Hussars appears on the terrace and - salutes._ - - Sergeant! - - THE SERGEANT - - My Colonel! - - DE VARDES - - Well, your report. - - THE SERGEANT - - My Colonel, wood and shore we’ve searched since dawn, - And twenty bitter rogues we’ve found, no less! - They crouched behind the tall grey stones, or lay - Prone in the furze, or knelt at Calvaries! - Two women remain— - - [_He stares at_ YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE. - - SÉRAPHINE - - O Saint Thégonnec! - Saint Guirec! Saint Servan! - - YVETTE - - O Our Lady! - - _Enter_ THE ABBÉ. - - THE ABBÉ - - De Vardes, your precious peasants— - - [_He sees_ YVETTE. - - Who is here? - The De Méricourt, the mænad, I swear! - Who wounded De Vardes! - - YVETTE - - Oh!— - - MME. DE VAUCOURT - - The Egyptian! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Monseigneur, monseigneur, she’s none of mine! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - The poor girl! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Ah, mademoiselle, it is - The innocentest creature! - - THE ABBÉ (_touches_ YVETTE _upon the cheek_) - - Good-morning, - My dear! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Hm—m—m!—pretty! - - THE VIDAME - - Certainly the gallows - Should be thirty feet high. - - COUNT LOUIS - - Hm—m—m! Something less, - Monsieur le Vidame! - - LALAIN - - Diable! - - DE VARDES (_to the sergeant_) - - Where are your captives? - - THE SERGEANT - - My Colonel, - I have them safely here! Ha! you within! - - [_Enter from the hall of the château soldiers and - huntsmen with peasants, men and women; some - sullenly submissive, others struggling against their - bonds. They crowd the terrace before the great - doors. The guests of_ DE VARDES _to the right and - left upon the terrace, the stairs, and in the garden_. - YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE _beside the statue_; LALAIN - _near them_; DE VARDES _with his hand upon the - great chair_. - - MME. DE VAUCOURT - - Oh, the brigands! - - COUNT LOUIS (_rubbing his hands_) - - Here, Sergeant, range them here, - Upon the terrace! And take the great chair, - De Vardes! Ma foi! We will teach them, the rogues! - Monsieur l’Anglais, have you peasants at home - Plague you at times?—Word of a gentleman! - It seems like old days and Henri again! - - [_The soldiers thrust their prisoners forward with - the butts of their muskets._ - - A MAN - - Monseigneur! - - ANOTHER - - Monseigneur! - - A WOMAN - - Madame la Marquise! - My father was your father’s foster brother! - - THE MARQUISE - - Is that a reason you should burn châteaux? - - A YOUNG WOMAN - - Where’s Yvette Charruel? - - YVETTE - - Here, Angélique! - - SÉRAPHINE (_aside to_ ANGÉLIQUE) - - Of course! Betray the girl! I knew you would. - - AN OLD WOMAN - - Yvette said God would have mercy! I faint— - - DE VARDES (_to_ GRÉGOIRE) - - Give her wine! - - A PEASANT - - See! There is Rémond Lalain! - - LALAIN - - Patience, compatriot! Thursday I speak - In the Jacobins! - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Ah, monseigneur! - Ah, monseigneur, there’s she who led us here! - There’s she who said the shadow of Morbec - Blackened the land as sin blackens the soul! - - THE GUESTS - - Ah!— - - ANGÉLIQUE - - That same Yvette, who said, monseigneur, - That delving the earth, the peasants of France - In a long age had delved up a thought! - - THE GUESTS - - Ah!— - - ANGÉLIQUE - - She said that we were never born to starve! - She said the seigneur’s dues were all _infâme_! - - THE GUESTS - - Ah!— - - THE VIDAME - - Burn the witch! - - DE VARDES - - Have you done? - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Monseigneur, - She said the forest deer, the hare, the birds, - Were just as much the peasant’s as the lord’s! - - THE ENGLISHMAN - - What? What? - - ANGÉLIQUE - - She said the saints they wished no tithes! - - THE ABBÉ - - I give her up! - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Monseigneur, monseigneur, - She said that all our hope was the tricolour! - - DE BUC - - O lilies of Bourbon! - - SÉRAPHINE (_to_ ANGÉLIQUE) - - Thou little beast! - - ANGÉLIQUE (_shrilly_) - - Yvette said bitter hunger, cold, and want - Came with _noblesse_ and with _noblesse_ would go! - Yvette said the Queen was an Austrian! - Yvette said the King was a fainéant! - Yvette said the princes were traitors! - Yvette said the armies would turn to us! - Yvette heard the drums of the Republic! - - THE GUESTS - - Out! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Enough! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Thou hellicat! - - A PEASANT - - Monseigneur! - Saint Yves le Véridique knows it is truth! - She ever rings the tocsin in our hearts! - - ANOTHER - - Yvette Charruel! - - A WOMAN - - She led us here! - - ANOTHER WOMAN - - Yvette! - Yvette Charruel! - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Yvette?— - - [_Several of the women laugh._ - - DE VARDES - - Why, you are all cowards! - - SÉRAPHINE - - So they are, monseigneur, so they are! - - DE VARDES (_to the peasants_) - - Who speaks for you? - - [_A silence._ - - THE PEASANTS - - Monseigneur—monseigneur— - - [_They break off._ DE VARDES _stands waiting for - them to speak, his hand upon the chair_. - - AN OLD WOMAN - - Yvette— - - AN OLD MAN - - Yvette— - - THE PEASANTS - - Monseigneur— - - [_They break off. They make a sighing sound. The - old woman begins to say her beads._ - - YVETTE - - Monseigneur, - They are so hungry! Monseigneur, ‘tis said - You are a soldier and have been to war! - Oh, to us all there comes one battle-field - When we must look into a conqueror’s eyes! - Think then upon that last dark plain and show - Mercy to us who in the shadow stand! - We are your enemies! - - DE BUC - - Faith of an officer! - De Vardes— - - YVETTE - - The children are crying at home, - Monseigneur! - - A WOMAN - - O Sainte Vierge, have pity! - - YVETTE - - With bowed heads the old men wait! - - A WOMAN - - Oh, my father! - - YVETTE - - The young men hear the ravens crying! - - THE PEASANTS - - Aie!— - - YVETTE - - The nets are dry, the red sails laid away, - And all the boats lie idle by the shore. - - A FISHERMAN - - Star of the Sea! Pray for poor fisherfolk! - - A PEASANT - - I left my sickle in the standing corn. - - YVETTE - - The wheat must fall, the flax be gathered soon, - Or else we’ll sing no songs in Morbihan! - - THE PEASANTS - - Aie! The songs of the _diskanerien_! - - YVETTE - - The hearths are cold and the wheels turn not, - And Hunger sits on every doorstep! - - THE PEASANTS - - Aie!— - - YVETTE - - To-morrow is the Pardon of the Birds. - The birds go free—the birds go free, monseigneur! - - DE BUC - - And so I swear should you! - - THE PEASANTS - - The birds go free! - - A WOMAN - - My little bird at home! - - THE MARQUISE - - Give her, monsieur, - Another fan to break! - - YVETTE - - Not one of yours, - Madame la Marquise! - - DE VARDES (_to the sergeant_) - - Give them liberty. - - THE SERGEANT - - My Colonel? - - DE VARDES - - Cut their bonds; set them free! - Make way for them there! - (_To the peasants._) Peasants of Morbec! - Last night you rose against your lord and strove - To burn his house, to slay his guest and him. - How shall he speak to you to-day? Poor fools! - Distraught and blind you struck ere that you looked, - And struck at one who fain would be your friend, - Who has his vision of a seigneur’s right! - These are the towers of Morbec, but I - Am not Baron Henri, blind that ye are! - I am Baron René, remember my name. - Bread you shall have, I will think of your wrongs. - No foe am I! There are the open doors. - Back to the village go! but look you well. - Mistake no more, it will be dangerous! - Creep not this way again in the dark night, - Or you may meet an ancient Lord of Morbec! - More loyal grow, cease all your traitorous talk, - Raise not Rebellion’s head or it will find - A soldier of the King with armèd heel! - Mistake no more! This once I pardon you. - Begone! The fields await you and the wind - Sits fair for Quiberon! Begone. - (_To_ YVETTE _and_ SÉRAPHINE.) Stay! - - [_The peasants press in confusion toward the doors - of the château._ - - THE PEASANTS - - Live Baron René! - - LALAIN - - O Breton fools!—Yvette! - - [YVETTE _does not answer. She looks at_ DE VARDES. - - THE MARQUISE (_with strained laughter_) - - High justice at Morbec! - - THE VIDAME - - Mille diables! - The wretches all go free! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Is this Morbec? - Mort de ma vie! What is it that you do, - Monsieur le Baron de Morbec? - - DE VARDES - - My pleasure, - Monsieur le Comte de Château-Gui, upon - My peasants of Morbec! - - _CURTAIN_ - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - - _ACT II_ - - - _The garden of the Convent of the Visitation at Nantes. Long lines - of fruit trees which appear to sleep in the sunshine. In the - middle of the garden a stone fountain, where rises and falls a - little jet of water. To the left the white buildings of the - convent; in the background, between the convent and the street, a - high garden wall, the tops of trees, and the roof and spire of a - church. There is a barred door in the wall. The doors and windows - of the convent parlour giving upon the garden are open. It is the - summer of 1792._ - - _A nun appears for a moment at the door of the convent, then - vanishes, and_ DE VARDES _and_ YVETTE _enter the garden_. - - DE VARDES - - What hast thou learned to-day? - - YVETTE - - In history: - The battles of Rossbach and of Minden! - The Peace of Paris— - - DE VARDES - - Indeed! - - YVETTE - - Philosophy: - Man is born free—but who will break his chains? - - DE VARDES - - It is a question truly! - - YVETTE - - Theology: - God is the father of us all—and yet - I think I know how feels an orphan child! - - DE VARDES - - Defeat of France, Rousseau, and Modern Doubt! - And hast thou learnt all this in convent walls? - - YVETTE - - No! - - DE VARDES - - They are good to thee, the Sisters all? - - YVETTE - - Monseigneur, yes! - - DE VARDES - - When I did place thee here - After that day thou didst not burn Morbec! - I gave the Reverend Mother straitest charge,— - This convent oweth much to the De Vardes. - They have enriched it oft, and it in turn - Refuge hath given unto noble dames. - Oft did she sit beside the fountain there, - That Duchess Jeanne whose look thou wearest now! - - YVETTE - - Oh!— - - DE VARDES - - How mournfully thou sighest! Yet - How glorious are thine eyes this lovely day! - Thou’rt well, and thou art happy, art thou not? - - YVETTE - - There is no hunger here, no cold, no care! - I ever wished to learn and here I learn, - Here where the Duchess Jeanne did sit forlorn,— - And then I pray within the chapel there, - And then I count the stars as they are lit,— - And then I think of all the lights of Nantes! - - DE VARDES - - It hath been many days I’ve been away, - To Morbec and to Vannes and to Vitré. - - YVETTE - - I thought that thou wouldst never come again! - - DE VARDES - - Didst think the night had ceased to long for day? - Didst think the tide no more obeyed the moon? - The reed no longer bowed unto the wind? - - YVETTE - - Ah, do not jest!—There’s blood upon thy coat! - - DE VARDES - - ‘Tis nothing!—We have had hard words to-day, - My men and I! - - [_He gazes around at the quiet garden._ - - O holy peace! O balm! - O green and sunny quietude! Outside - There’s tumult, heat, confusion, enmity! - Here is a haven, here ‘tis blissful sweet! - - [_They sit upon the marge of the fountain._ - - All is dismay and doubt in France to-day. - With troubled eyes men question destiny! - Outside I front the storm as best I may, - But here is anchorage profound and fair— - There fruit trees drifting bloom, this fountain marge! - - YVETTE - - I better love the wild and desolate shore! - - DE VARDES - - What is that ribbon closed within thy hand? - - [_Yvette opens her hand and shows a ribbon cockade._ - - The tricolour! - - YVETTE - - Wilt thou not wear it? - - DE VARDES - - No! - - YVETTE - - It was my favour—Fare you well, monsieur! - - DE VARDES - - I might not wear that ribbon, no, not if - It were thy favour truly, Vivien! - Ah, when will cease this discord of our minds? - Wilt thou forever be a Jacobin? - - [_A distant bugle, followed by a roll of drums and - martial music._ - - YVETTE - - _Aux armes, Citoyens! - Formez vos bataillons!_ - - DE VARDES - - Where learned’st thou the Marseillaise? - - YVETTE - - ‘Tis in the air! Oh, on these moonlight nights - I dream of France and how he spoke to me - Of all the wrongs of France we should redress! - - DE VARDES - - Who spoke to thee? - - YVETTE - - Rémond Lalain. - - DE VARDES - - Rémond Lalain was once my closest friend. - He travels now a dark and winding way! - - YVETTE - - Where is she now, that lady bright and fair - Who’s named La Belle Marquise in Morbihan? - - DE VARDES - - She is in Nantes. - - YVETTE - - Ah!—Is she not fair? - - DE VARDES - - Most fair. - - YVETTE - - And nobly born? - - DE VARDES - - And nobly born. - - YVETTE - - Alas! - - _Enter_ SISTER BENEDICTA. - - SISTER BENEDICTA - - Monsieur le Baron de Morbec,— - A courier, in haste, foam-flecked and spent, - Demands to speak with you. - - DE VARDES - - What tidings now? - Ill news like ravens to a cumbered field! - I come, my Sister! - (_To_ Yvette.) I’ll return. - - [_Exeunt_ DE VARDES _and_ SISTER BENEDICTA. - - YVETTE - - Alas! - She is in Nantes! He sees her every day. - What is this pain that’s tearing at my heart? - - [_Laughing voices of young girls. Enter from the - convent_ SISTER FIDELIS _and_ SISTER SIMPLICIA - _with a cluster of young girls, pupils of the nuns or - refugees from Royalist families. They seat themselves - upon the wide steps of the fountain._ YVETTE - _leans against the basin and plays in the water with - her hand_. - - A YOUNG GIRL (_to_ YVETTE) - - We’re telling stories! - - ANOTHER - - Finish thine, Louise! - - LOUISE - - ‘Tis told. The beau prince wed the belle princesse, - And they lived happily ever after! - - A YOUNG GIRL - - Whose turn now? - - ANOTHER - - Tell us a story, Yvette! - - YVETTE (_turning from the fountain_) - - _Beneath the halfway tree, - ‘Tween Josselin and Pontivy, - Suddenly, out of the dark, - I heard a grey wolf bark! - Hoée! Hoée! Hoée!_ - - _The snow was on the ground, - The shadows all around, - Laid a finger on my lip, - As I stood, hand on hip, - Listening the grey wolf bark. - Hoée! Hoée! Hoée! - Beneath the halfway tree, - ‘Tween Josselin and Pontivy!_ - - _A little child came by. - “Yvette, the wolf is nigh! - Yvette, take thou me up, - I’ve neither bite nor sup!” - Hoée! Hoée! Hoée!_ - - _The child came to my arm. - He was so fair and warm! - The child came to my arm, - I kept him safe from harm! - Hoée! Hoée! Hoée!_ - - _A light grew round his head, - I felt all cheered and fed. - “Yvette, have thou no fear! - Who giveth aid, to me is dear!” - Hoée! Hoée! Hoée! - The child no longer pressed, - White snow lay on my breast!_ - - _The grey wolf ran away, - Hoée! Hoée! Hoée! - There broke a splendid day, - Beneath the halfway tree, - ‘Tween Josselin and Pontivy!_ - - SISTER FIDELIS - - A miracle? - - YVETTE - - I do not know. - - A YOUNG GIRL - - I liked best - The beau prince and the belle princesse. - - ANOTHER GIRL - - Oh, - Thou’rt an Aristocrat! - - [_The young girls return to their embroidery._ YVETTE - _plays in the water of the fountain with her hand_. - - YVETTE - - Gold fish, gold fish, - How are the fish of Quiberon? - - A YOUNG GIRL - - Were I - A fairy prince, then my princess should be - Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret! - - ANOTHER - - If I - Were a princess, I would have for my prince - Monsieur le Baron de Morbec. - - [YVETTE _turns from the fountain_. - - A THIRD GIRL - - They say - That in all France there’s none more brave than he! - And far and near she’s called La Belle Marquise! - A little while and there’ll a wedding be! - - THE FIRST - - But then, the poor Yvette! He is, you know, - Her prince! - - [_They laugh._ - - YVETTE - - Oh, mockery! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - Hush, children, hush! - Monsieur le Baron is her benefactor! - - SISTER SIMPLICIA - - He plucked her from the dreadful world outside! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - He placed her here beneath Our Lady’s care. - - SISTER SIMPLICIA - - In everything he is her truest friend! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - But for his condescension, ah, who knows - What in these fearful days might be her lot! - Here in this fold she’s safe. - - YVETTE (_aside_) - - Alas! alas! - - A YOUNG GIRL - - Oh, she is fairer than the fairy queen! - Clarice de Miramand and Blanchefôret! - - YVETTE (_aside_) - - Is she so fair? Is she so fair indeed? - I broke her fan—now she will break my heart! - - A YOUNG GIRL - - He is a knight like Lancelot! - - YVETTE - - Oh me! - She is the Queen, she is that Guinevere! - - [_Distant music. The noise of footsteps and voices in - the street beyond the wall._ - - A YOUNG GIRL - - Oh, outside the wall what is there passing? - - SISTER FIDELIS (_severely_) - - We have nothing to do with outside the wall. - - A YOUNG GIRL (_indicating the door in the wall_) - - Might we open the door a little way? - - SISTER FIDELIS - - The blessed saints forbid! - - [_From the street are heard the drums and fifes of - passing National troops. The bayonets of the soldiers - are visible above the wall._ - - VOICES (_in the street_) - - _Allons, enfants de la patrie, - Le jour de gloire est arrivé!_ - - A YOUNG GIRL - - Oh, soldiers! - - ANOTHER - - Were the wall only down! - - [_The circle about the fountain breaks. The young - girls walk up and down beneath the trees. The Sisters - watch them from a garden bench. The music - dies away._ YVETTE _sits upon the stone marge of the - fountain_. - - YVETTE - - What is this pain that’s tearing at my heart? - What matters it to me whom he doth love? - And what concern of mine that she is fair? - I would she were not so!—Oh, misery! - She is in Nantes, she is La Belle Marquise! - I would that she were dead! - - [_The chapel bell rings._ - - O Seigneur Dieu! - Her death! I do not wish her death! Not I! - O Our Lady! let not ill thoughts possess me! - I would I were at Morbec this still eve, - Herding the cows amid the golden broom, - Above a sea of glass without a wind, - As stagnant calm as is this prisoned water! - I would gather the musk rose in the lane, - I would tread the wet sand and count the ships, - My brow would not burn, my heart would not ache, - No tears from my eyes would I wipe away! - Why should they not fall like the winter rain? - I am the herd girl here as at Morbec, - And she’s a great lady, loved for herself! - O love! is it love that stifles me so? - O love! is it love that makes me weep? - I thought that love was all splendour and light, - The bow in the sky, the bird at its height, - The glory and state of an angel bright! - What is this pain that burdens all my heart? - - [_She bows her head upon her knees. The hum of the - street deepens to a continuous and sinister sound. - In the distance a roll of drums._ YVETTE _raises her - head_. - - I sit by this fountain, he’ll not return! - He cares not for me,—he’s the Sieur de Morbec, - And I a herd girl wandering through his fields! - Mother, my mother, did you sit and wait, - By the wild sea rim on a glowing eve, - Mid the brown seaweed on the shining sands? - Your heart did it beat, and your senses swim?— - But your lover, the fisher, he came, he came! - - [_The voice of the street deepens._ - - I will not have this pain! I’ll tear it out! - - [_Her hand touches the purple mark on her throat._ - - Ha! how burns this hateful mark to-day! - - [_There comes from the church towers of Nantes a - sudden and violent crash of bells._ - - SISTER FIDELIS (_rising_) - - The tocsin! - - THE YOUNG GIRLS (_They flutter forward to the - fountain_) - - The tocsin! Oh, the tocsin! - Like a hive of bees hums the street without! - - YVETTE - - Oh, all ye iron bells! ring on! ring on! - - _Enter_ MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI _and_ SISTER BENEDICTA. - - THE YOUNG GIRLS - - Here is Mademoiselle de Château-Gui! - She’ll tell us why the bells are ringing! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - O Ciel! - Would you believe it? O blessed saints above! - The country is in danger! - - A YOUNG GIRL - - Oh! we thought - You brought us news! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI (_joyously_) - - Do you not hear the bells? - Oh, such a day outside! It is proclaimed! - _La patrie est en danger!_ - - [_Distant trumpets._ - - Well you may wail, - You brazen trumpets of the Revolution! - The Duke of Brunswick he is marching now, - And with him all our nobles back from Coblentz! - O bliss! _La patrie est en danger!_ - - SISTER FIDELIS - - Oh, hush! - The very walls have ears! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - My father says - The King shall have his own again, and all - Will go as merry as a wedding bell! - _La patrie est en danger!_ - - _Enter_ COUNT LOUIS, MELIPARS DE L’ORIENT, _and the_ - ABBÉ DE BARBASAN. - - Oh, here are - My father and Monsieur de L’Orient! - - DE L’ORIENT - - So sweet the flowers here— - - COUNT LOUIS (_to the young girls_) - - Mesdemoiselles, - One garden of rosebuds time hath not touched! - (_To the Sisters._) In your prayers, my Sisters, name Château-Gui! - - [_The young girls curtesy, then exeunt between the - trees._ YVETTE _remains beside the fountain_. COUNT - LOUIS _looks at her through his glass_. - - Ha! - - DE L’ORIENT - - The herd girl of Morbec! - - COUNT LOUIS - - I have eyes, - De L’Orient! - - THE ABBÉ - - Hm!—Fair child! - - YVETTE (_coldly_) - - Citoyen! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - Monsieur de L’Orient, you promised me - My father should not walk abroad to-day! - - DE L’ORIENT - - What could I do? He is so young and rash! - - COUNT LOUIS (_taking snuff_) - - ‘Tis true that Nantes is dangerous to-day - To all save those wild beasts the sans-culottes! - But that’s no reason I should stay at home. - Where is De Vardes? His man said he was here. - It is his wont, pardieu! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - Monsieur le Comte, - Monsieur the Baron of Morbec did come - To see that all was well with this our charge— - A peasant girl, monsieur, whom he did save - From cold and hunger and ill company. - But now she prospers and we think that he - Will come no more. - - YVETTE - - Jesu Maria! - - COUNT LOUIS (_with satisfaction_) - - Ma foi! - He is a soldier is De Vardes! He camps - One day beside the hedgerow in the field! - The next he’s for some royal mount of love, - High as the snow and splendid in the sun! - Since he’s not here I know where else he is! - - DE L’ORIENT (_sings_) - - _Mignonne, Mignonne! - Kiss me, rose of to-day!_ - - YVETTE - - O heart! O world! O hedgerow in the field! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Well, well, her mother was as fair as she! - Clarice de Miramand, long-dead Clarice! - Her hair was golden too.—Old times, old times! - And now it is De Vardes and the Marquise! - - [COUNT LOUIS, MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI, _and_ DE - L’ORIENT _walk up and down beneath the trees_. DE - L’ORIENT _sings_. - - DE L’ORIENT - - _Mignonne, Mignonne! - The red rose fades away! - Mignonne, Mignonne! - The white rose will not stay!_ - - THE ABBÉ - - My dear, that is a pretty wrist of thine! - - YVETTE - - Citoyen! - - THE ABBÉ - - Hast said thy rosary to-day? - - YVETTE - - Citoyen! - - THE ABBÉ - - A melting eye! - - YVETTE - - Citoyen! - - THE ABBÉ - - Dame! She is only good to burn châteaux! - - [_He joins_ COUNT LOUIS, _etc. They walk and talk - beneath the trees._ - - YVETTE - - The high of heart bide no man’s scorning! I - Will break these bonds! I will be free! I will! - O royal mount of love, snow-high, sun-kissed, - Kissed by the sun which once did shine on me! - If I am of the fields— - - [_Her hand touches the mark upon her throat. She - laughs._ - - O hated flower, - Which grew beneath no hedgerow on this earth! - Teach me, thou poison blossom, pride of heart! - Where is that Duchess Jeanne whom I am like? - They say for love her heart did rive in twain, - But now she smiles beside a shadowy stream - In some far land where none do die of love! - And where is he, Jehan the fisherman, - Who loved Yvonne, who met the sea and died? - They died for love who should have lived for hate! - I’ll live— - - _Enter_ DE VARDES. COUNT LOUIS, _etc., come forward_. - - Oh, here’s the soldier! Now we’ll know - How blow the winds around the camp of love! - - COUNT LOUIS - - What is it, René de Vardes? What is it, man? - - DE VARDES - - The King hath left the Tuileries! The mob - Forced the château and put his life in danger. - The Swiss are murdered, cut down to a man! - The Grenadiers joined with the Marseillaise! - De Maillé writes—the courier’s just arrived— - All is distraction, danger, and despair! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - Alas! - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - O Ciel! - - THE ABBÉ - - The soldiers in revolt. - - DE L’ORIENT - - The Swiss all murdered—the stanch Swiss! - - SISTER SIMPLICIA - - Alas! - - COUNT LOUIS - - The King hath left the Tuileries! - - DE VARDES - - To-night - I ride to Paris. - - YVETTE - - O God! - - THE ABBÉ - - To Paris! - As well say that you ride to death, De Vardes! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Ah, were I young again, I’d ride with you! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - Alas, they say it is a fearful place! - - SISTER SIMPLICIA - - It is so safe in Nantes! - - DE VARDES - - Ah, my Sister, - Because it is so safe in Nantes I go! - Once I did love this people; once I thought - Beyond this Revolution lay the morn, - The dewy morn of a most noble day! - It may be so; I know not; but I am - A soldier of the King. Needs must I go, - My bugles call; I’m breaking camp. Farewell! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - You will return. - - DE VARDES - - If I’m in life I will! - - YVETTE - - O Our Lady! O Our Lady! - - [_The noise in the street increases. The tocsin rings. - The sky begins to darken before an approaching - storm._ - - COUNT LOUIS - - Ring on! - Ye bells! ring on to the deaf sky! O France, - Of old thou wast a pleasant land and free, - In palace and in field a courteous place! - Now thou art desolate! Come, Austria, come! - Come, D’Artois, come, Brunswick, and come, Provence! - Rend the tricolour from the breast of France - And plant the fleur-de-lis where stood the Jacobins! - - VOICES (_from the street_) - - _Quoi! ces cohortes étrangères - Feraient la loi dans nos foyers!_ - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - Hast said farewell to the Marquise? - - DE VARDES - - Not yet, - As far as Vannes I ride beside her coach. - - YVETTE - - Oh!— - - MLLE. DE CHÂTEAU-GUI - - Soon or late, she’ll draw you back to Nantes! - Now will she not? - - DE VARDES (_smiling_) - - Perhaps. - - YVETTE - - Jesu Maria! - - SISTER FIDELIS - - Monsieur, if you must go, oh, rest you sure - Jealously will we guard and spotless keep - The soul you stooped and drew from the foul mire!— - Yvette, come make your reverence to your lord! - - YVETTE - - I kiss your hand, monseigneur! - - THE ABBÉ - - There will be - A storm to-night! - - COUNT LOUIS - - Come, come, René de Vardes! - I’d see the courier who brought this news! - - DE VARDES - - I’ll follow you, Monsieur le Comte! - - [_Exeunt_ COUNT LOUIS, _his daughter_, DE L’ORIENT, - THE ABBÉ, _and the Sisters_. - - YVETTE - - Wilt thou go? - - DE VARDES - - I must. - - YVETTE - - Why must thou go? - To-day the kingdom fell! Oh, in the dust - Of old things let it rest for evermore! - Take up the Revolution! - - [_Lightning._ - - Oh, see! - The flaming sword before the gates of Eden! - Thou’rt safe within the garden! Go not forth. - Go not to Paris! Stay in Nantes, ah, stay! - Wear the tricolour— - - [_Thunder._ - - Hark! It is the voice, - The menacing voice of the Republic! - It threatens thee, it threatens all who pass - That flaming sword, to lift the thing that was - And is not any more! Oh, let it lie!— - Thou’lt not to Paris? - - DE VARDES - - To-night, Citoyenne! - Ah, thou art skilful at betraying! - - YVETTE - - Quoi! - - _Enter_ SISTER BENEDICTA. - - SISTER BENEDICTA - - Monsieur le Baron de Morbec, the page - Of Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret - Attends— - - YVETTE - - Name of a name! - - THE ABBÉ (_appearing in the door behind_ _Sister - Benedicta_) - - De Vardes, De Vardes! - You gather the furze while the red rose waits! - - DE VARDES - - At once, my Sister! - - (_To_ YVETTE.) Ah, not in anger, - Must thou and I part for this little while! - If I’m in life I will return, be sure, - To Nantes and all this garden loveliness, - Those fruit trees and this fountain!—Fare thee well. - The nuns will care for thee; I’ve ordered all. - Too fierce of aspect is the world without! - Here is fair peace, security, and calm; - Here thou art fenced from storm and violence. - Abide thou here until I come again! - - [_Lightning._ - - YVETTE - - The flaming sword! - - DE VARDES - - Hearest thou not, Yvette, - How sings the lark in Paimpont Wood to-day? - - YVETTE - - I hear the dirge of the salt sea! - - DE VARDES - - And there, - Seest thou not through yonder trees the stone, - The Druid Stone where thou didst lie in sleep? - - YVETTE - - I see a broken fan! - - DE VARDES - - Abide thou here - And dream of Paimpont Wood until I come. - I too will dream, I too will dream, Yvette! - - YVETTE - - Is not Clarice a lovely name? - - DE VARDES - - Why, yes, - A very lovely name.—Farewell, farewell! - I’ll see thy face, be sure, this very night, - Upon the road before me as I ride. - - YVETTE - - Oh, fare you well beneath the silver moon - As slow you ride beside a lady’s coach, - Discoursing of the dazzling, snowy heights! - I kiss your hand, monseigneur! Fare you well! - - [THE ABBÉ’S _voice is heard from the doorway_. - - THE ABBÉ - - De Vardes! De Vardes! - - DE VARDES - - I come! - - THE ABBÉ - - The rose awaits!— - - YVETTE - - It is too much! - - DE VARDES - - Farewell, thou spirit of Paimpont! - - [_Distant music._ - - YVETTE - - Ah, ah! ‘tis worth all else—the Marseillaise! - - DE VARDES - - My Duchess Jeanne— - - YVETTE - - She is dead: cold and dead! - - _Aux armes, Citoyens! - Formez vos bataillons!_ - - DE VARDES - - Perverse and strange! - - YVETTE - - I’ll to my beads. Adieu! - - _Over Ys, the sunken town, - When thou sailest look not down, - Mariner, mariner!_ - - DE VARDES - - What wine hast thou drunken? - - YVETTE - - An old wine— - - _For there dwells a fairy there - Will drag thee down by the long hair, - Mariner, mariner!_ - - DE VARDES - - Oh, thou art too wilful! - - THE ABBÉ - - De Vardes! De Vardes! - - YVETTE (_to the fish in the fountain_) - - Gold fish, gold fish, how are the fish of Quiberon? - - DE VARDES - - Thou sullen witch, adieu! - - [_Exit_ DE VARDES. - - YVETTE - - Monseigneur! ah! - He’s gone! He’s gone to meet the fairy queen! - He’s for the roses and the dazzling peaks! - The seaweed and the furze he’s left behind! - He’s left the storm, he’s left the storm and me! - - [_The convent bell rings._ - - Toll, toll! as though thou’d toll my soul away! - Thou canst not toll him back! Oh, woe is me! - - [_The nuns sing in the chapel._ - - VOICES - - _O salutaris Hostia! - Quae coeli pandis ostium: - Bella premunt hostilia, - Da robur fer auxilium!_ - - [_Above the wall where it is shadowed by a fruit - tree, appear the head and shoulders of_ LALAIN. _He - draws himself up to the coping, watches_ YVETTE - _for a moment, then swings himself down to the garden. - He has a rose in his hand._ - - YVETTE - - Where is the sunshine gone? Where is the gold? - It was a lovely day! ‘Tis cold and dead; - No light, no warmth, no cheer!—Oh, presently - Those two will take the summer road to Vannes! - Ha! does he think that I will meekly stay - Within this convent close, will kneel and pray, - Day in, day out, for all true lovers’ weal? - What is there now to do?—O Jealousy! - I dream of Paimpont Wood in June! I’ll dream - Of sunlit peaks, of roses named Clarice; - I’ll dream of furze that’s set about with thorns - And clings unto the common earth which bore it! - - [_A roll of thunder._ - - On, on! It suits my mood, the crashing sound!— - Jehan the fisherman! rise from the sea, - Lay thy cold hand upon the heart of her - Who’s not thy child, and teach her how to hate! - Yvonne who parted from the earth one night, - Come through the storm that darkens overhead - And teach thy daughter how to hate! Thou too, - Thou other one, thou seigneur high and grand - Whose signet burns upon my aching throat, - Whose nature stirs within me suddenly, - Arise from hell and teach me how to hate! - - [_Thunder._ - - VOICES FROM THE CHAPEL - - _Tantum ergo sacramentum - Veneremur cernui_— - - YVETTE - - O Our Lady! O Our Lady! O Our Lady! - - [LALAIN _throws the rose. It falls beside_ YVETTE. - - Oh!— - - [_She raises the flower to her lips._ LALAIN _comes - forward_. - - Thou! I thought it was—I thought it was. - Go! No rose of thine would I have kissed, - Rémond Lalain! - - [_With a wild petulance she throws down the flower - and treads upon it._ - - LALAIN - - Now for that deed of thine - I will not spare him when the day is mine! - - YVETTE - - Of whom speakest thou? - - LALAIN - - The Citoyen Vardes. - - YVETTE - - Let him be! - - LALAIN - - The Citoyenne Blanchefôret. - - YVETTE - - Again! - - LALAIN - - ‘Tis said the two will shortly wed— - A fitting match!—She’s fair and nobly born. - Thou mightst have seen, thou mightst have seen last night, - Walking by moonlight beside the Loire, - A lady the fairest and a great lord! - - YVETTE - - Say’st thou? - - LALAIN - - Beneath the trees, beside the flood, - Toying and whispering, the sword and fan! - - YVETTE - - Out and alas! Begone, thou torturer! - - LALAIN - - Oh, those old days when by the shore we walked - While sank the sun beneath the emerald waves, - And wild sea birds flashed all their silver wings, - And long we talked of France and liberty! - How thou art tamed, Yvette, Yvette Charruel! - Thou carest not now for France and liberty! - - YVETTE - - It is not true! Thou knowest that I care! - - LALAIN - - This sultry night I speak to patriot hearts - Of War, Dumouriez, Brunswick, Capet! - All Nantes will throng to hear me where I stand, - In the Church of Saint Jean, who’s now become, - From crypt to spire, one mighty Jacobin! - High in the gilt tribune beneath the roof, - The starry roof where the archangels live! - Faces me Michael with his flaming sword, - And Raphael watches me with widened eyes, - And Gabriel frowns between his splendid wings - Because there’s no more incense! When I speak, - The painted walls all vanish like a mist! - On distant plains the drum begins to beat, - The great dome lifts—above the angel heads - I see the stars— - - YVETTE - - There are no stars to-night! - - LALAIN - - There are! There are! Eternally they shine - Beyond this din, beyond these sulphurous clouds! - And there’s a stairway, red and white and blue, - By which to climb to some most famous star - Of glory and of love! Yvette! Yvette! - Climb thou with me unto that golden star! - - YVETTE - - Rémond Lalain— - - LALAIN - - Come thou with me, Yvette! - Come thou with me from out this sluggish place! - Come thou with me into the furious storm! - What dost thou here, thou spirit of the wind, - Restless, with deep eyes and with parted lips? - Thou knowest thou hast naught to do with holy things. - Tear off that white headdress! Red is thy colour! - - YVETTE - - Ay, red is my colour! - - LALAIN - - Last night, the while - I spake of War and all the place was still, - A sudden vision blazed above the lights— - I saw thee dance the Carmagnole! - - YVETTE - - Now, now! - What whispers he to her upon the road? - - LALAIN - - To-night—ah, should I raise my eyes to-night - And see thee smiling there, Yvette, Yvette! - Beside thy sisters in the galleries! - Upon thy twilight hair the bonnet-rouge, - At thy small waist a pistol and a dirk— - Only the Revolution in thy soul - And in thy heart my name, my name, Yvette! - - [_Thunder._ - - It thunders now, but ‘twill be clear to-night. - The moon will shine, the roads will all be white. - - YVETTE - - The roads will all be white, the moon will shine, - The poplars quiver and the eglantine, - The broom and honeysuckle will be sweet, - Upon the road to Vannes— - - [_Lightning and thunder._ LALAIN _walks to the door - in the wall, tries it, then with a stone from the - ground beats back the rusty bolt_. - - LALAIN - - An easy door! - - YVETTE - - The moon will shine— - - LALAIN - - I’ll go this way, ma foi! - Not by the wall! - - YVETTE - - The silver poplars sway! - - LALAIN - - René de Vardes, once I did call thee friend - And took a deal of pride in that possession! - How runs the world away! ‘Twas long ago! - - YVETTE - - Ah, ah, that fearful dream I had last night! - And while I dreamed they walked beside the Loire! - - LALAIN - - This night he rides away. Didst know? - - YVETTE - - I knew! - - LALAIN - - He’s said farewell to thee, but not to her! - - YVETTE - - Wilt thou begone! - - LALAIN - - Ay, through this door, Yvette! - ‘Tis easy, as thou seest. And ah, to-night— - The storm o’er past and shining bright the moon - And the cold nuns all telling o’er their beads, - How simple ‘twere—O priceless liberty! - Thou wouldst not be the only one, I trow, - Who may not walk beside the silver Loire! - - YVETTE - - Name of a name! - - LALAIN - - Adieu, adieu! To-night - I’ll see thee sitting in the galleries— - - [_Exit_ LALAIN. - - YVETTE - - Ah, how the thunder shakes the air! - - [_She moves to the door in the wall and replaces the - bolt, then returns to the fountain._ - - ‘Tis so! - He is her lover! Oh, he loves her true!— - What will they say and whisper all the night - Through light and shadow on the road to Vannes? - Despair!—But I’ll not stay within these walls! - - [_Knocking at the door in the wall._ YVETTE _crosses - the stage to the door_. - - Who is there? - - SÉRAPHINE (_within_) - - Yvette! Yvette! - - YVETTE - - Séraphine! - - SÉRAPHINE (_within_) - - And Nanon too! - - YVETTE - - The deputy’s sister! - - NANON - - Let us in! - - YVETTE - - I dare not. - - SÉRAPHINE - - What! - - YVETTE - - Wait: I dare! - - [_She draws the bolts. The door opens. Enter_ SÉRAPHINE - _and_ NANON. _The former is dressed in complete - carmagnole: short skirt, rolled-up sleeves, sash - of tricolour, and a bonnet-rouge. Pistols at her belt._ - NANON _is more soberly attired but wears the bonnet-rouge. - The door closes behind them._ - - Séraphine! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Chérie! - - YVETTE - - Nanon! - - NANON - - Dear Yvette! - - YVETTE - - How gay you are! What of the Revolution? - - SÉRAPHINE - - It goes. - - NANON - - It goes well. - - SÉRAPHINE - - We have a new song! - Faith! ‘Tis a greater song than _Ça Ira_! - - YVETTE (_sings_) - - _Aux armes, Citoyens! - Formez vos bataillons!_ - - SÉRAPHINE - - That’s it! - - NANON (_looking about her_) - - So very triste it is in here! - - SÉRAPHINE - - So gay outside! All Nantes is dressed in red! - There’s a procession, and then to-night - We sit in the galleries to hear Lalain! - - [_Distant music._ - - Hark to the fife! _Formez vos bataillons!_— - And your feet keep not time to the music! - - YVETTE - - But my heart, Séraphine, my heart keeps time. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Ho! Your heart is in barracks, says Céleste. - - YVETTE - - Céleste! - - NANON - - And Angélique. - - YVETTE - - Angélique! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Faith! - - Angélique is in feather now you’re gone! - Cries _Vive la République!_ here in Nantes. - Rides on the cannon and handles a pike; - Thinks she’s in Paris and plays Théroigne, - And high from the galleries applauds Lalain! - - NANON - - He thinks not of her; he thinks of Yvette! - - YVETTE - - I care not of whom he thinks! - - SÉRAPHINE - - On a fête day, - In a car triumphal see her appear! - Dressed like a goddess just down from the skies, - All crowned with green oak leaves, borne shoulder high— - - YVETTE - - Angélique! - - SÉRAPHINE (_nodding_) - - Ah, you see you are not there! - But between you and me, red does not become her! - - YVETTE - - I should think not!—little blonde! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Ah, but red - Becomes you! - - YVETTE - - Yes! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Monseigneur’s gone from Nantes. - Yes, faith! I saw him ride away— - - YVETTE - - He’s gone! - Rememb’rest thou that lady fair and proud, - Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret? - - SÉRAPHINE - - Ho! - (_To_ NANON.) Rememb’rest thou the Citoyenne Blanchefôret? - - NANON - - The proud piece! We are mire beneath her feet! - Last eve her coach threw mud upon my gown! - Let her beware! One day she’ll walk afoot. - Let her beware! And let him too beware - Who rode last eve beside her golden coach! - - YVETTE - - Ha, ha! ha, ha! - - [_Music and voices in the street. Impatient knocking - at the door in the wall._ - - VOICES - - Holà, Aristocrats! - Nanon! Séraphine! - - NANON - - Our friends await us. - - SÉRAPHINE - - We have business with the smith upon the quai, - Where by the old dovecot he fashions pikes! - - VOICES - - _Allons, enfants de la patrie!_ - - NANON - - Come, come away! We’ll leave the nun alone - To say her beads for black Aristocrats! - How triste to be for aye in prison here! - - YVETTE (_angrily_) - - Prison! I am no prisoner, I! - - NANON - - Then come with us into the merry streets! - - SÉRAPHINE - - ‘Twill be a heavy storm—all are within. - How easy ‘twere to slip away with us! - - YVETTE - - No, no! - - VOICES - - Citoyennes! Citoyennes! - - NANON - - Ma’m’selle! - - YVETTE - - Ma’m’selle! - - NANON - - Aristocrat! - - YVETTE - - Aristocrat! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Well—kept by an Aristocrat— - - YVETTE - - You lie. - - SÉRAPHINE (_angrily_) - - Saint Yves! I lie! Do I? O Seigneur Dieu! - This is Yvette, the herd girl of Morbec! - This is Yvette, the daughter of Yvonne! - This is that same Yvette who swore one day - That rather would she meet the blight of hell - Than take one favour from a seigneur’s hand! - Once you were hungry! Go you hungry now? - You went in rags. Where is your ragged gown? - Barefoot—what’s that about that throat of thine? - I swear it is a jewel!—and we pine - For bread, we women of the Revolution! - - [YVETTE _unclasps the jewel from her neck and lets - it fall_. - - I lie, do I? Diable! Just prove I lie! - This night we make a little noise in Nantes - Shall show Aristocrats who is in danger! - Lalain will speak and all the bells will ring, - And Angélique will deck herself in red! - Steal through yon door, be of us evermore! - I lie, do I? Then show me that I lie! - - YVETTE - - In Nantes where do you lodge? - - SÉRAPHINE - - With Angélique - Under the Lanterne, Sign of the Hour Glass. - - VOICES - - Nanon! Nanon! You are missing the sights! - - [_Distant music._ - - OTHER VOICES - - _Allons, enfants de la patrie, - Le jour de gloire est arrivé!_ - - NANON - - Come, come away! - - [SÉRAPHINE _unbars the door in the wall. It swings - open_. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Faith! One can see the Loire! - ‘Tis fine to walk beside it ‘neath the moon! - - YVETTE - - Oh!— - - VOICES - - _Tremblez, tyrans! et vous perfides_,— - - NANON - - Away! Away! - - YVETTE - - I’ll go—I’ll go with you. - Ye fruit trees and thou fountain, fare ye well! - - [_Exeunt_ YVETTE, SÉRAPHINE, NANON. _The door - swings to. Lightning and thunder._ SISTER FIDELIS - _appears in the convent door_. - - VOICES (_dying away_) - - _Aux armes, Citoyens! - Formez vos bataillons!_ - - _CURTAIN_ - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - - _ACT III_ - - - _A square in Nantes. On the left the deep porch of a church with - pillars. To the right and in the background, a perspective of - streets with tall, many-windowed houses. Opposite the church a - great plaster statue of Liberty. Over the church door is written - in white lettering: “The Republic One and Indivisible. Liberty, - Equality, Fraternity or Death. National Property.” A distant view - of the Loire. Men and women in holiday garb, wearing liberty caps - and great tricoloured cockades, cross and recross the square. - Life, movement, colour. Red the dominant note. It is the year - 1794._ - - _Hoarse voices within. Hawkers of Revolutionary journals cross the - square._ - - A HAWKER - - _Le Journal des Jacobins!_ - - ANOTHER - - _Le Discours - De la Lanterne!_ - - _Enter_ GRÉGOIRE. - - A THIRD - - _L’Orateur du Peuple!_ - - A FOURTH - - _Le père Duchesne! Le Père Duchesne!_ - - GRÉGOIRE (_stopping him_) - - Here!— - - [_He buys a paper._ - - And what to-day says Père Duchesne? - - THE HAWKER - - He says - That Paris envies Nantes her Carrier! - - GRÉGOIRE - - Humph! - - A HAWKER - - _La Bouche de Fer!_ - - ANOTHER - - _Les Actes des Apôtres!_ - - A CITIZEN - - I’ll buy the _Actes_. - - ANOTHER - - I’ll buy the _Bouche de Fer_. - - [_Enter a man with a long brush and a pot of paste. - He proceeds to cover the wooden base of the Statue - of Liberty with placards._ - - THE CROWD - - The placards! The placards! - - A BRETON SAILOR - - I cannot read! - - [_He catches by the arm a man in a long cloak, with - a broad hat pulled low over his face._ - - Prithee, Citizen, what says the placard? - - THE MAN IN THE CLOAK - - It says Duport is dead; Biron is dead; - Barnave is dead. - - THE CROWD - - Ha, ha! Biron! Barnave! - - A MAN - - Through the little window they’ve looked at last! - _À bas les Aristocrats! Vive la Guillotine!_ - - ANOTHER - - Ah, here in Nantes we drown them in the Loire! - - THE CROWD - - _Vive Carrier! Vive Lambertye! Vive Lalain!_ - - [_The man with the brush affixes a second placard._ - - THE BRETON - - And this, Citizen? - - THE MAN IN THE CLOAK - - D’Alleray is dead; - Bailly is dead; Du Barry is dead. - - THE CROWD - - Ha! - - A WOMAN - - Ho! ho! The courtesan, she’ll kiss no more! - - THE CROWD - - She’ll kiss no more! - - [_The man with the brush affixes the third placard._ - - THE BRETON - - And this one, Citizen? - - THE MAN IN THE CLOAK (_reads_) - - _The Republic One and Indivisible. - It is Decreed - There is no God. To-day we worship Reason._ - - [_The crowd applauds._ - - A MAN - - In a red mantle! - - ANOTHER - - That’s the Paris Reason! - Our Reason wears blue. - - A THIRD - - And oak leaves in her hair. - - THE BRETON - - Is Reason truly a woman? - - THE MAN IN THE CLOAK - - God knows! - - A MAN - - Ha! he says God! God is a word forbid! - - THE MAN IN THE CLOAK - - Then Reason knows. - - A MAN - - That’s better. - - [_Singing within. A band of dancers, men and women, - whirl into the square._ - - THE CROWD - - Carmagnole! - - THE DANCERS - - _Dansons la Carmagnole! - Vive le son, vive le son! - Dansons la Carmagnole! - Vive le son du canon!_ - - [_The crowd breaks and joins the dancers. They take - hands and with uncouth and extravagant gestures - circle once or twice around the statue, then with a - long cry exeunt._ - - A WOMAN - - The great procession forms upon the quai! - - ANOTHER - - It winds and winds about and comes this way! - - [_Exeunt men and women._ GRÉGOIRE _and the man - in the cloak remain_. - - GRÉGOIRE - - The priests are gone. It is Reason’s fête day. - - THE MAN IN THE CLOAK - - Reason, being a woman, will have her way. - - GRÉGOIRE - - Still, Monsieur l’Abbé— - - THE ABBÉ - - I am known! - - GRÉGOIRE - - To serve - Monsieur, I had the honour at Morbec. - - THE ABBÉ - - Monsieur le Baron’s seneschal, I think. - - GRÉGOIRE - - The same,—but I am gaoler now in Nantes. - - THE ABBÉ - - That night in June your musket would not fire! - Diable! I’ve played and lost! Well, fellow? - - GRÉGOIRE - - Hein? - - THE ABBÉ - - The wind blows cold in Nantes, and so I wear - This cloak! So long I’ve looked on fires of hell - I needs must have a hat to shade my eyes!— - But now I’ll cock it in the face of all— - Cold, wind, darkness, devils, and Republic! - - GRÉGOIRE - - I think the citizen has lost his head. - - THE ABBÉ - - Ay, and my heart as well. Holà! what’s that? - - [_A noise without. Clash of steel and excited voices._ - - _Enter_ DE VARDES _and_ FAUQUEMONT DE BUC _pursued by - seven or eight red-capped men armed with pikes_. DE - VARDES _and_ DE BUC _use their swords_. - - THE RED CAPS - - Aristocrats! Aristocrats! - - DE VARDES (_thrusting_) - - Take that, - Republican! - - DE BUC (_thrusting_) - - Out, canaille! - - THE ABBÉ - - Here’s wine! - Have at you, brow-bound galley slaves! - - DE VARDES (_over his shoulder_) - - Ha! De Barbasan! - - [_Wounds his adversary._ - - We’re at our last château! - - THE ABBÉ - - I’ve shut Voltaire! Here goes the candle out! - - [_He throws his long cloak over the head of one of - the red caps and makes at another with his dagger._ - - DE VARDES - - The window splinters! - - [_He sends the pike flying from a red cap’s hand._ - - Take warning, sans-culottes! - - THE ABBÉ - - One, two, three! - - DE BUC - - My sword arm! - - DE VARDES - - Fight with your left. - I saw you do it at Nanci! - - VOICES (_within_) - - _Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira! - Les Aristocrats à la Lanterne!_ - - DE VARDES - - _O Richard, O mon Roi, - L’univers t’abandonne!_ - - [_A howl from the mob._ - - THE MOB - - Aristocrats! - - GRÉGOIRE (_from the statue_) - - Desperate! - - [_The red caps_, DE VARDES, THE ABBÉ, _and_ DE BUC - _fight across the stage and exeunt_. GRÉGOIRE _follows - them_. - - VOICES (_within_) - - _Ça ira!_ - - _Enter women and children of the Revolution._ - - A WOMAN - - Upon the church steps I will take my stand! - - ANOTHER - - I have brought my knitting. - - A THIRD - - And I. - - A FOURTH - - And I. - - ALL (_singing_) - - _We are the tricoteuses! - Dyed wool we knit while rumbles by the cart. - Knit! knit! all knitting in the sun._ - - _We are the tricoteuses! - Red wool we knit while soul and body part. - Knit! knit! the knitting now is done!_ - - [_They seat themselves upon the church steps._ - - A CHILD - - Maman! Maman! how many carts will pass? - - A WOMAN - - None, sweeting, none! It is a holiday. - - _Enter_ CÉLESTE, ANGÉLIQUE, _and_ NANON. - - NANON - - It was the very night of the great storm - From those dull convent walls she ran away! - - CÉLESTE - - Two years agone— - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Would she had stayed! - - NANON - - Ah, then, - You had been Goddess, Angélique! - - ANGÉLIQUE - - The witch! - With her dark skin and with her purple flower! - Let her beware! I know a thing or two! - - CÉLESTE - - _I_ know who comes from Paris back to Nantes! - This morning on the quai I saw him! - - NANON (_eagerly_) - - Is’t - That ci-devant, that black Aristocrat, - De Vardes? - - CÉLESTE - - The man your brother loves? The same. - - NANON - - I spit upon his name! - - CÉLESTE - - Denounced! - - NANON - - The set of sun - Will see him so, or my name’s not Nanon! - - CÉLESTE - - The Loire—the Loire will close above his head! - - _Enter_ SÉRAPHINE. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Whose head? - - NANON - - The Citizen Vardes. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Monseigneur! - He’s in the prison of La Force at Paris!— - One truly told me so—He’s not in Nantes. - - NANON - - And if he were— - - SÉRAPHINE (_stammering_) - - Why—why— - - NANON - - And if he were, - You would not give him up! I know you well! - I know you, Séraphine! - - SÉRAPHINE - - And if you do, - You know no ill of me, Citoyenne! - - CÉLESTE - - Yvette - Would not give him up either. - - ANGÉLIQUE - - No, i’ faith! - I’ll take my oath on that! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Your oath, lint-locks! - It’s worth a deal, your oath! _Your_ mind I know! - You would be Goddess, you and not Yvette! - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Let her beware! - - SÉRAPHINE - - Yvette! She’s coming now! - Bright as the star that’s highest in the night! - And all the men have turned astronomers! - Faith! ‘tis easy work to worship Reason, - When Reason is a woman, and that fair! - - ANGÉLIQUE - - I’ve seen her gather seaweed on the shore! - - SÉRAPHINE - - And now she gathers hearts in her two hands. - - ANGÉLIQUE - - Oh! oh! - - NANON - - Would that my brother hated her! - Disdainful prude! - - CÉLESTE - - Oh, love may turn to hate. - She’s Goddess now, but wait, but wait, but wait! - - NANON - - I join my brother at the Olive Tree. - Come, Angélique, Céleste! - - [_Exeunt_ NANON, ANGÉLIQUE, CÉLESTE. - - SÉRAPHINE - - Were’t not too late, - I’d warn monseigneur just for old time’s sake! - When all is said and done, old times are best; - He gave us back Lisette, he fed us all— - Eh! ‘twere a pity. What now? Who’s this? - - _Enter hurriedly_ THE MARQUISE. _She looks over her shoulder - as if fearing pursuit, then, drawing her cloak and hood - closely about her, attempts to cross the square unobserved. - Enter a rabble of men and women._ - - THE MOB - - _Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira! - Les Aristocrats à la Lanterne. - Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira! - Les Aristocrats on les pendra!_ - - A TRICOTEUSE - - She hides - Her face. - - ANOTHER - - She draws her cloak about her! - - THE FIRST - - Ho! - Her hand is white and there’s a jewel on’t! - - A MAN (_accosting_ THE MARQUISE) - - 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, - $1.50. - - HOUGHTON MIFFLIN & CO. - BOSTON AND NEW YORK. - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -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. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GODDESS OF REASON*** - - -******* This file should be named 53817-0.txt or 53817-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/3/8/1/53817 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |