I?
[He laughs.
Yvette
Air!
You hem me in, Citoyennes! Air! De grâce!
Nanon
The air is good enough for us, Yvette!
Angélique
Why do you grow so pale, so pale, Yvette?
[Yvette takes from her hair the bonnet-rouge.
Séraphine
Psst! Little fool! Put on the cap again!
Yvette
It is too heavy!
Séraphine
Saint Yves! Put it on!
De Vardes
The duel’s o’er; the night is drawing on;
Dark is thy form against the crimson sky,
Rémond Lalain! Stand further off, my foe!
And now I think I see thee not at all,
And that is well! I would forget thee quite.
Live out thy life unto its sordid close!
Live on, and in the future find the past!
But while thou treadest earth touch not again
That flower I spoke of! Touch it not, Lalain!
Lalain
Draws on the night—
De Vardes
I’ll bathe me in the Loire!
Death has been ever called a River wide.
This ford I fear not!—Soldier of the King,
I’ll pass the stream, though cold, though cold and dark!
The bivouac lights are shining through the trees,
He waits within my tent, my General!
First Judge
Death!
Second Judge
Death!
De Vardes
Now sheath thy sword, Rémond!
The field of honour leave to death and me!
[He crosses to the condemned.
Count Louis
Monsieur le Baron!
The Abbé
René de Vardes!
De Vardes
Monsieur le Comte, Monsieur l’Abbé, again
I find myself in best of company!
[The judges whisper together. Lalain, his eyes
upon the floor, drums upon the table with his hand.
Yvette unpins the tricolour cockade from her breast,
gazes upon it for a moment, then throws it from her.
The women about her watch her greedily.
Séraphine
Name of a name! Yvette!
Yvette
I like white best.
Séraphine
Saint Gildas! Saint Maudez!
Yvette
I ever loved
The fleur-de-lis!
Séraphine
Saint Yves le Véridique!
Yvette (She rises)
God and the King!
[Uproar in the hall. All turn toward the gallery.
A Judge
Who cried that?
A Breton Sailor
Sainte Vierge!
Yvette Charruel!
Lalain
No!
De Vardes
Mon Dieu!
The Crowd
Yvette—
Yvette Charruel!
Séraphine
Saint Servan! Saint Linaire!
Yvette
I denounce the Citoyen Rémond Lalain!
The Crowd
Ah!—
Nanon
Ah, let me get at her!
Lalain
Citoyens!
Heed her not—she’s mad!—The next prisoner!
Yvette
I denounce Carrier and Lambertye!
Chicanneau, Sarlat, Petit-Pierre, and Gaye,
The Company of Marat, the hideous deaths,
The Noyades and the Dragonades of Nantes!
I tell you that the blood you shed must stop!
One cannot sleep at night with thinking on’t.
You put to sleep, O God! too many!
The Crowd
Ah!—
A Voice
There is no God! nor ever was in Nantes!
Another Voice
She has spoken against the Republic!
Yvette
There was a glory in the morning sky,
Where now is naught but miserable red!
A trumpet blew, but we have listened since
To the false jingle of a tambourine!
There stood a mighty judge, robed, calm and proud,
Where is he now? I see but murderers!
A Voice
But murderers!
Yvette
I denounce the Republic!
[Uproar.
The Crowd
Oh, harlotry!—No, blasphemy!—Down, down!
The Bar! the Judgment Bar!—The river!—Death!
The Loire!
Yvette
I am coming.
[She descends the stair. Men and women clutch her
and thrust her forward to the bar.
I am here!
I am Yvette, called Right of the Seigneur.
My mother was the peasant girl, Yvonne;
My father was the Baron of Morbec.
I am tired of Ça ira, Carmagnole,
I would sleep with the Loire for my pillow!
The Crowd
Ah—h—h!
Lalain
A head beside thine on that pillow!
De Vardes
Mon Dieu!
Yvette
Perhaps, Citoyen!
A Voice
I denounce
Yvette Charruel!
Other Voices
And I!—And I!—And I!
CURTAIN
SCENE II
The banks of the Loire. Night. Branching trees; between their trunks is seen the river. There is a full moon, but a drifting mist obscures the scene. In the background, upon the river bank, dimly appears a crowd of the condemned, men, women, and children, soldiers and executioners of the Company of Marat. From this throng comes a low, continued, confused sound of command, entreaty, distress, and lamentation. In the foreground the condemned form into groups or move singly to and fro.
Enter Yvette from the shadow of the trees.
A Soldier (following her)
Holà! Give us not the slip!
Yvette
Thou soldier!
There is no gold could make me flee this place!
How long dost think before they throw me in?
The Soldier
A little while!
[He returns to the river. Yvette sits upon the
earth at the foot of a tree, and with her chin upon
her hand watches those who come and go.
Yvette
He comes not yet! O Our Lady!
I would not drown till I have seen him once!
A Woman (passing with a man)
How shines the moon! Did we not always say,
We two would die by such a moon as this?
Rememberest thou—
The Man
Rememberest thou that night,
That Versailles night within the Orangerie?
The Woman
Rememberest thou—
[They pass.
A Soldier (calling to another)
To bind them hand and foot,
We need more rope!
The Second Soldier
Just thrust them in the stream
With bayonets!
A Cry from the River
Miséricorde!
[A child with flowers in her hand speaks to Yvette.
The Child
I’m tired—
Yvette
Rest here, thou little bird!
The Child
My name’s Aimée.
I did not know that flowers grew at night.
Is that the moon?
Yvette
It is the silver moon!
Aimée’s a pretty name. My name’s Yvette.
The Child
Kiss me, Yvette—I’ll look now for Ursule!
Yvette
Who is Ursule?
The Child
My bonne—Adieu, Yvette!
[The child passes on.
Voices from the River
Hélas! Hélas! Miséricorde!
[A nun advances from the shadow. She is in ecstasy,
her hands clasped, her eyes raised.
The Nun
The skies open: heaven appears!
Heaven my home!
O for the wings of the dove,
The eagle’s speed!
The gates of pearl are opening,
My harp is strung.
The Virgins come to meet me.
Sainte Agnès, Sainte Claire!
Our Lady stoops to greet me.
My father smiles.
My brothers two I see there!
Who is that one
Who kneels and to me beckons?
‘Tis he I loved!
What radiance grows, what splendour?
Who waiting stands?
Light! O Light! O Christ my Lord!
Heaven my home!
O Love! O Death, come quickly!
I would be gone!
[A soldier touches her on the arm.
The Soldier
Thy time it is!
[The nun regards him with a radiant and dazzling
smile, then turns and moves swiftly before him to the
river.
The Voices
Woe, woe! Miséricorde!
Yvette
Heaven my home! Shall I see heaven then?
Oh me! so much of ill thou’st done, Yvette!
Alas! Alas! What if I cannot win
To heaven! but must ever weeping stand
With all the lost and strain my eyes to see
The form I love move ‘neath the living trees,
And all in vain, so great the distance is!—
Not see him! O Our Lady, let me in!
The Voices
Woe, woe!—I die!—I die!—O countrymen!
Yvette
O God, and is it true I murdered her,
That lady high, that fair, so fair Clarice?
O God! I would that she were happy here,
Alive and laughing, gay of heart again!
O God! I do repent me of my sin!
The Voices
Ayez pitié!
[From a group of the condemned is heard the voice
of The Abbé.
The Abbé
Miserere mei Deus
Secundum magnam misericordiam tuam!
The Condemned (kneeling)
Have mercy, O God!
Voices from the River
Miséricorde!
[Yvette kneels.
The Abbé
In manus tuas Domine commendo spiritum meum,
Redemisti me Domine Deus veritatis!
The Condemned
O God, receive our souls!
Voices from the River
Woe, woe! We die!
Soldiers
That one is swimming there! Your musket! Fire!—
[A musket shot.
Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
The Abbé
Dulcissime Domine Jesu Christe,
Per virtutem sanctissimae Passionis tuae
Recipe me in numerum electorum tuorum!
The Condemned
O Christ, receive our souls! O Christ who died!
The Abbé
Maria, Mater gratiae, Mater misercordiae,
Tu me ab hoste protege, et hora mortis suscipe!
The Condemned
O mother of God!
Voices
Miséricorde!
The Abbé
Omnes sancti Angeli, et omnes Sancti
Intercedite pro me, et mihi succurrite!
Voices
Miséricorde!
Soldiers
Petit-Pierre!—André!
‘Tis time for yonder folk beneath the trees!
The Abbé
Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis,
In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
Amen!
[The condemned arise from their knees.
The Soldiers
Come your ways!
[The Abbé and the condemned vanish into the mist
upon the river bank.
Voices
Ayez pitié!
[Yvette rises from her knees. She plucks the yellow
broom that grows beneath the trees.
Yvette
And if I may I will her servant be,
And I will bring her posies every day!
The Voices
We die!
Soldiers
So, two and two! Ha, ha!
[There appears in mid-stream on the river Carrier’s
festal barge. It is lit from stem to stern. There is
music aboard, singing and revelry of men and women.
Laughter from the River
Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
The Voices
They laugh! They sing!
[A sound of singing from the passing barge.
A Woman’s Voice
Fair Chloris bathed her in the flood,
Young Damon watching, trembling stood,
Behind the frailest hawthorn wall!
The month was May—
A Man’s Voice
No, Prairial!
The Woman’s Voice
Her ivory limbs they gleamed and turned,
Young Damon’s heart so hotly burned,
Into the stream he leaped therefor!
It seemed July—
The Man’s Voice
No, Thermidor!
[The barge passes.
Voices from the River
O hearts so hard!
Other Voices
Oh, woe! Adieu! Adieu!
[An old woman speaks to Yvette.
The Old Woman
They’ve drowned my son, my sailor son Michel!
Oh, oh, my heart! he’s drifting out to sea!
Yvette
Poor mother!
The Old Woman
Oh, to and fro he sailed, he sailed!
The Indies knew him and the Northern Seas!
He’d bide at home a bit, then off he’d go,
Another voyage make, strange things to see!
Then home he’d come and of his travels tell.
Oh, oh, my son, my sailor son Michel!
[The old woman passes on.
Enter Séraphine.
Séraphine
I’ve sought her here, I’ve sought her there, in vain!
And perilous it is to seek one here!
Yvette
Séraphine!
Séraphine
Yvette!
Yvette
Where is monseigneur?
Séraphine (weeping)
I know not, I!—Saint Lazaire and Saint Jean!
I nursed thee ere thou wast so high!