The Goddess of Reason 20
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—
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