The Goddess of Reason 41

The Goddess of Reason 41

YVETTE

 

She is dead; I’m lost. But thou—But thou—

Farewell! Farewell!

 

DE VARDES

 

Thou said’st, _I’ll to Lalain_.

I do forbid it utterly.

 

YVETTE

 

Oh!

 

DE VARDES

 

Obey!

It is thy seigneur’s last command.

(_To himself._) Thou fool!

Touch not her hand. ‘Tis red!

 

YVETTE

 

Monseigneur!

 

DE VARDES

 

Why art thou both so fair and foul a thing?

 

YVETTE

 

Ay, call me that—I care not!

 

DE VARDES

 

I’ll call thee “Death,

Sweet Death—fair Treachery!”

 

YVETTE

 

Forgive, forgive!

 

DE VARDES

 

There’s blood upon thy hand.

 

YVETTE

 

Forgive!

 

DE VARDES

 

Alas!

Thou didst betray!

 

YVETTE

 

I would that I were dead

In Paimpont Wood, beside the Druid Stone!

 

DE VARDES

 

I would that I had never strayed that way!

 

YVETTE

 

I won that paper in that purse of gold!

And it was life, I tell thee, life for both!

O God! how all things here miscarry!

 

DE VARDES

 

I would that I had never seen thy face!

 

YVETTE

 

Oh, much I hated her, la belle Marquise,

And yester morn I did betray her there,

Just in the moment God gave o’er my soul!

And she is dead—I cannot bring her back.

Oh, swift the madness passed and came remorse,

And I did hate myself, and strove to save!—

Oh, woe, and double woe! He promised me!

Oh, I have striven with a fiend from hell

And not prevailed, though sorely I did strive!

O God! O God! I’m weary of the light!

Now, now thou too wilt die unless—unless—

Ah, let me go—Farewell, a little while!

 

DE VARDES

 

Not till I know where thou dost go, and why.

 

YVETTE

 

Rémond Lalain gave me that paper.

It was an order, written by himself,

Whom even Carrier would not offend—

A secret paper not for every eye.

Reward he asked for certain services,—

Two lives, your life and hers—and hers, I swear!

He does not leave his villa all this day,

But at the judgment bar you were to show

That paper to Lambertye or Sarlat,

And both were saved—both, both, I swear it, both!

And now she’s dead—‘Twas life you flung away

Shut in that purse! You gave it to Grégoire!

Grégoire! He serves the Revolution,

Is flint to all beside! Oh me! Oh me!

I could not come myself, I could but send.

I won it not till cockcrow of this morn!

 

DE VARDES

 

Till cockcrow!

 

YVETTE

 

The dawn came slowly on.

The cock crew and I drew the curtain by

And saw the morning star above the Loire!

 

DE VARDES

 

The morning star!

 

YVETTE

 

‘Twas like the eye of God!

I used to watch it from the fields at dawn;

This morn ‘twas watching me!

 

DE VARDES

 

Rémond Lalain!

 

YVETTE

 

‘Twas all in vain. She’s dead—ah, ages since!

You’ll not forgive—So fare you well again!

 

DE VARDES

 

Where goest thou, Yvette?

 

YVETTE

 

To Séraphine,

Beneath the Lanterne, Sign of the Hour Glass!

 

DE VARDES

 

Hear and obey! It is a dying man

Speaks to thee now and with authority!—

Thy seigneur too, and head of all thy house.

When I am dead, the last of the De Vardes

Will be thyself, my cousin!—All song doth say

That Duchess Jeanne who lived so long ago,

Whose pictured face and thine are counterparts,

E’en to the shadowy hair, the cheek’s soft curve,

The light of eye, the slow, enchanting smile,—

All song doth say she had a bruisèd heart,

But in God’s sight a height of soul! So thou.

Go thou to Morbec. Leave this Babylon.

Back! from the travelled road thy foot’s upon!

List not unto the music that is played;

Touch not the scarlet flowers, the honey-sweet,

They’ll poison thee! Think not the light is fair,

It is false dawn. Take thou the darkling way

Shall lead thee to white light and lasting bloom!