The Goddess of Reason 39
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
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