ACT III
A square in Nantes. On the left the deep porch of a church with pillars. To the right and in the background, a perspective of streets with tall, many-windowed houses. Opposite the church a great plaster statue of Liberty. Over the church door is written in white lettering: “The Republic One and Indivisible. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity or Death. National Property.” A distant view of the Loire. Men and women in holiday garb, wearing liberty caps and great tricoloured cockades, cross and recross the square. Life, movement, colour. Red the dominant note. It is the year 1794.
Hoarse voices within. Hawkers of Revolutionary journals cross the square.
A Hawker
Le Journal des Jacobins!
Another
Le Discours
De la Lanterne!
Enter Grégoire.
A Third
L’Orateur du Peuple!
A Fourth
Le père Duchesne! Le Père Duchesne!
Grégoire (stopping him)
Here!—
[He buys a paper.
And what to-day says Père Duchesne?
The Hawker
He says
That Paris envies Nantes her Carrier!
Grégoire
Humph!
A Hawker
La Bouche de Fer!
Another
Les Actes des Apôtres!
A Citizen
I’ll buy the Actes.
Another
I’ll buy the Bouche de Fer.
[Enter a man with a long brush and a pot of paste.
He proceeds to cover the wooden base of the Statue
of Liberty with placards.
The Crowd
The placards! The placards!
A Breton Sailor
I cannot read!
[He catches by the arm a man in a long cloak, with
a broad hat pulled low over his face.
Prithee, Citizen, what says the placard?
The Man in the Cloak
It says Duport is dead; Biron is dead;
Barnave is dead.
The Crowd
Ha, ha! Biron! Barnave!
A Man
Through the little window they’ve looked at last!
À bas les Aristocrats! Vive la Guillotine!
Another
Ah, here in Nantes we drown them in the Loire!
The Crowd
Vive Carrier! Vive Lambertye! Vive Lalain!
[The man with the brush affixes a second placard.
The Breton
And this, Citizen?
The Man in the Cloak
D’Alleray is dead;
Bailly is dead; Du Barry is dead.
The Crowd
Ha!
A Woman
Ho! ho! The courtesan, she’ll kiss no more!
The Crowd
She’ll kiss no more!
[The man with the brush affixes the third placard.
The Breton
And this one, Citizen?
The Man in the Cloak (reads)
The Republic One and Indivisible.
It is Decreed
There is no God. To-day we worship Reason.
[The crowd applauds.
A Man
In a red mantle!
Another
That’s the Paris Reason!
Our Reason wears blue.
A Third
And oak leaves in her hair.
The Breton
Is Reason truly a woman?
The Man in the Cloak
God knows!
A Man
Ha! he says God! God is a word forbid!
The Man in the Cloak
Then Reason knows.
A Man
That’s better.
[Singing within. A band of dancers, men and women,
whirl into the square.
The Crowd
Carmagnole!
The Dancers
Dansons la Carmagnole!
Vive le son, vive le son!
Dansons la Carmagnole!
Vive le son du canon!
[The crowd breaks and joins the dancers. They take
hands and with uncouth and extravagant gestures
circle once or twice around the statue, then with a
long cry exeunt.
A Woman
The great procession forms upon the quai!
Another
It winds and winds about and comes this way!
[Exeunt men and women. Grégoire and the man
in the cloak remain.
Grégoire
The priests are gone. It is Reason’s fête day.
The Man in the Cloak
Reason, being a woman, will have her way.
Grégoire
Still, Monsieur l’Abbé—
The Abbé
I am known!
Grégoire
To serve
Monsieur, I had the honour at Morbec.
The Abbé
Monsieur le Baron’s seneschal, I think.
Grégoire
The same,—but I am gaoler now in Nantes.
The Abbé
That night in June your musket would not fire!
Diable! I’ve played and lost! Well, fellow?
Grégoire
Hein?
The Abbé
The wind blows cold in Nantes, and so I wear
This cloak! So long I’ve looked on fires of hell
I needs must have a hat to shade my eyes!—
But now I’ll cock it in the face of all—
Cold, wind, darkness, devils, and Republic!
Grégoire
I think the citizen has lost his head.
The Abbé
Ay, and my heart as well. Holà! what’s that?
[A noise without. Clash of steel and excited voices.
Enter De Vardes and Fauquemont de Buc pursued by
seven or eight red-capped men armed with pikes. De
Vardes and De Buc use their swords.
The Red Caps
Aristocrats! Aristocrats!
De Vardes (thrusting)
Take that,
Republican!
De Buc (thrusting)
Out, canaille!
The Abbé
Here’s wine!
Have at you, brow-bound galley slaves!
De Vardes (over his shoulder)
Ha! De Barbasan!
[Wounds his adversary.
We’re at our last château!
The Abbé
I’ve shut Voltaire! Here goes the candle out!
[He throws his long cloak over the head of one of
the red caps and makes at another with his dagger.
De Vardes
The window splinters!
[He sends the pike flying from a red cap’s hand.
Take warning, sans-culottes!
The Abbé
One, two, three!
De Buc
My sword arm!
De Vardes
Fight with your left.
I saw you do it at Nanci!
Voices (within)
Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira!
Les Aristocrats à la Lanterne!
De Vardes
O Richard, O mon Roi,
L’univers t’abandonne!
[A howl from the mob.
The Mob
Aristocrats!
Grégoire (from the statue)
Desperate!
[The red caps, De Vardes, The Abbé, and De Buc
fight across the stage and exeunt. Grégoire follows
them.
Voices (within)
Ça ira!
Enter women and children of the Revolution.
A Woman
Upon the church steps I will take my stand!
Another
I have brought my knitting.
A Third
And I.
A Fourth
And I.
All (singing)
We are the tricoteuses!
Dyed wool we knit while rumbles by the cart.
Knit! knit! all knitting in the sun.
We are the tricoteuses!
Red wool we knit while soul and body part.
Knit! knit! the knitting now is done!
[They seat themselves upon the church steps.
A Child
Maman! Maman! how many carts will pass?
A Woman
None, sweeting, none! It is a holiday.
Enter Céleste, Angélique, and Nanon.
Nanon
It was the very night of the great storm
From those dull convent walls she ran away!
Céleste
Two years agone—
Angélique
Would she had stayed!
Nanon
Ah, then,
You had been Goddess, Angélique!
Angélique
The witch!
With her dark skin and with her purple flower!
Let her beware! I know a thing or two!
Céleste
I know who comes from Paris back to Nantes!
This morning on the quai I saw him!
Nanon (eagerly)
Is’t
That ci-devant, that black Aristocrat,
De Vardes?
Céleste
The man your brother loves? The same.
Nanon
I spit upon his name!
Céleste
Denounced!
Nanon
The set of sun
Will see him so, or my name’s not Nanon!
Céleste
The Loire—the Loire will close above his head!
Enter Séraphine.
Séraphine
Whose head?
Nanon
The Citizen Vardes.
Séraphine
Monseigneur!
He’s in the prison of La Force at Paris!—
One truly told me so—He’s not in Nantes.
Nanon
And if he were—
Séraphine (stammering)
Why—why—
Nanon
And if he were,
You would not give him up! I know you well!
I know you, Séraphine!
Séraphine
And if you do,
You know no ill of me, Citoyenne!
Céleste
Yvette
Would not give him up either.
Angélique
No, i’ faith!
I’ll take my oath on that!
Séraphine
Your oath, lint-locks!
It’s worth a deal, your oath! Your mind I know!
You would be Goddess, you and not Yvette!
Angélique
Let her beware!
Séraphine
Yvette! She’s coming now!
Bright as the star that’s highest in the night!
And all the men have turned astronomers!
Faith! ‘tis easy work to worship Reason,
When Reason is a woman, and that fair!
Angélique
I’ve seen her gather seaweed on the shore!
Séraphine
And now she gathers hearts in her two hands.
Angélique
Oh! oh!
Nanon
Would that my brother hated her!
Disdainful prude!
Céleste
Oh, love may turn to hate.
She’s Goddess now, but wait, but wait, but wait!
Nanon
I join my brother at the Olive Tree.
Come, Angélique, Céleste!
[Exeunt Nanon, Angélique, Céleste.
Séraphine
Were’t not too late,
I’d warn monseigneur just for old time’s sake!
When all is said and done, old times are best;
He gave us back Lisette, he fed us all—
Eh! ‘twere a pity. What now? Who’s this?
Enter hurriedly The Marquise. She looks over her shoulder
as if fearing pursuit, then, drawing her cloak and hood
closely about her, attempts to cross the square unobserved.
Enter a rabble of men and women.
The Mob
Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira!
Les Aristocrats à la Lanterne.
Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira!
Les Aristocrats on les pendra!
A Tricoteuse
She hides
Her face.
Another
She draws her cloak about her!
The First
Ho!
Her hand is white and there’s a jewel on’t!
A Man (accosting The Marquise)
Citoyenne!
The Marquise
Citoyen—
The Man
Citoyenne, come!
Join our ronde patriotique, our carillon!
The Marquise
Sainte Geneviève!
The Man
What?
A Woman (her hand upon The Marquise)
Where’s your cockade?
Another Woman
Show!
The Marquise
De grâce, Citoyennes!
Third Woman