The Goddess of Reason 26
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!
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