ACT III
Reading edition
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!
108Grégoire (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?
109The 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.
110The 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.
111The 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!
112Grégoire
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!
113De 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!
114Voices (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.
115All (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!
116Céleste
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.
117Nanon
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!
118Angélique
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.
119Ah! 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!
120Third 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—
121The 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.
122The 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!
123Ho! 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.
124A 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.
125De 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,
126She 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.
127De 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.
128The 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!
129De 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.
130The 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?
131Yvette
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!
132Lalain
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!
133Yvette
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!
134Red 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—
135A 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!
136All, 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
137The 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!
138Yvette
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!
139A 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?
140A 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?
141Lalain
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!
142The 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!
143Yvette
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,
144And 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?
145The 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!
146Beside 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!
147Morbec! 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,
148Quintaines, 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!
149A 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!
150Yvette
What have I done?—
Voices (dying away)
Ha, ha! ha, ha! The Loire!
Yvette
The Loire!—O God!
CURTAIN
151
