The Goddess of Reason 32
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!
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