The Goddess of Reason 50
THE FIRST SOLDIER
‘Tis near the cockcrow!
What devil’s work we’ve had, and have!
THE SECOND SOLDIER
Courage!
There are not so many now! Then home and sleep!
[_They pass._
DE VARDES
Oh, rest thee on thy lover’s breast, my heart!
My life, my love, my dear, my Duchess Jeanne!
Oh, ‘neath the moon thou’rt like a lily flower!
YVETTE
René, René!
DE VARDES
Thy lips!
[_They kiss._
No, no, thou’rt not
That Vivien whom I did call thee once.
She was an evil fay; thou’rt pure and good!
Nor art thou that fair piteous Duchess Jeanne
Who died for love, whose look thou wearest now!
Thou never wast that woman star-begirt,
Whom they did hail as Goddess here in Nantes.
No Goddess thou, thou wan and broken flower!—
This is green Morbec, thou’rt the herd girl there
And I thy fisher, home from out the west.
My heart, my love, my silver rose, my _douce_!
YVETTE
The flowers drifting from the fragrant trees!
Unearthly light—
[_They kiss._
DE VARDES
Now come, Eternity!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
It is so sad to die!—No, no, ‘tis sweet!
Adieu, adieu!
SOLDIERS
So, down! Ha, ha! _Les Noces
Républicaines!_
DE VARDES
_Les Noces Républicaines!_
YVETTE
‘Tis what they call this death—
SOLDIERS
So near the dawn!
Here are the _tricoteuses_.
VOICES OF WOMEN
Not yet they’ve done!
Diantre! So many weddings in one night!
Here are the girls from Carrier’s barge at last!
OTHER VOICES
Petit-Pierre! André!
SOLDIERS
Céleste—Nanon!
Zephine, ‘Toinette!
THE WOMEN
_Vive le son! vive le son!
Dansons la Carmagnole!_
A TRICOTEUSE
‘Tis light enough to knit! I’ll sit me down.
Fi! how the grass is trampled here!
A SOLDIER
Lalain and Lambertye—
A WOMAN
We left them there
Upon the barge, Lalain and Lambertye;
And they were drinking deep, and dicing too,
And Lalain had his arm round Angélique!
[_They laugh._
DE VARDES
Seest thou not through yonder trees the stone,
The Druid Stone where I did see thee first
When thou didst lie asleep upon the grass?
How long I stood and looked, thou dost not know!
YVETTE
Beside the stream I slept and dreamed of thee!
I knew it not, but sure I dreamed of thee,
For in my sleep I thought I saw a king!
DE VARDES
O love!—
YVETTE
It is Morbec arises there!
The sands that stretch above the idle waves,
And all the little shells upon the shore!
DE VARDES
The convent bell is ringing! Seest thou not
The fountain old, the fruit trees in the sun?
YVETTE
Oh, life was never made for happiness!
The hour’s too short, the wine spills from the cup,
The blossom’s shaken ere we know ‘tis sweet!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
A SOLDIER
Those two have waited long!
Hi! Petit-Pierre, ‘tis time to marry them—
DE VARDES
This Saint John’s Eve we’ll walk in other woods!
And we will find and name a castle fair,
And rose and heartsease we will plant thereby!
Here ends this road, but we must onward go.
There is a longer hour, a deeper cup!
The blossom’s gone, but we shall see the fruit.
And life was made for happiness, my _douce_!
A VOICE FROM THE RIVER
_Mourir pour la patrie,
Mourir pour la France._
DE VARDES
It is a hymn of Chénier’s.—France! France!
Not since the days of Clovis hast thou lacked
Strong sons to die for thee, thou Lioness!
But now thy own brood hast thou eaten up,
And in the desert shalt thou roar alone,
Seeing the hunters nearer, nearer creep!
They’ll snare thee fast, they’ll make of thee a show!
France, France!—and yet thy sons shall ransom thee!
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