ACT IV
The interior of a church in Nantes used as a prison. Great broken windows of stained glass, purple and crimson, through which streams the sunlight. Prisoners of both sexes and all ages and conditions of life move to and fro, or lean against the pillars which support the vaulted roof. Some rest or kneel upon the steps before the altar rail. Three children play beside a broken font. Against a door at the left of the great altar lounge several turnkeys dressed in blue woollen with red liberty caps. The Marquise sits beside a pillar. She talks with De Buc and Enguerrand La Fôret. Near her are Count Louis and Mlle. de Château-Gui. De L’Orient stands upon a bench beneath a shattered window. De Vardes sits at a rude table writing.
A butterfly enters at the broken window and flutters through the church.
A Child
The butterfly! The butterfly!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Oh, see
Its painted wings!
A Child
There! There!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
It comes my way!—I’ve caught it!—No!
An Actress (dressed as a shepherdess)
I!
I have it fast, the pretty prisoner!
De L’Orient
It will not stay—
Count Louis
It soars into the roof!
No! down again on yon long ray of light!—
Give chase!
De L’Orient
Here!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
There!
The Actress
Oh, oh! It sails this way,
The fairy boat—
De L’Orient
With freight of heart’s desire!
The Actress
I have it!
Count Louis
No, I!
[The butterfly lights upon his hand.
‘Tis youth!
De L’Orient
‘Tis gone!—
[The butterfly brushes his shoulder.
‘Tis joy!
The Actress
Fled!—Ah, ah!—‘Tis hope!
[The butterfly touches her outstretched arm, then
rises again.
No longer!
[The butterfly rests upon the fair hair of The Marquise.
The Marquise
As I was saying, then I felt despair—
[The butterfly rises, flutters in a shaft of sunshine,
then passes out of the window. The prisoners watch
its flight.
A Child
The butterfly has gone!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Whither!
De L’Orient
‘Tis for
The blue skies and the sunny fields!
The Actress
The flowers
We shall not gather any more!
De L’Orient
High hills,
The water running in the sun and shade!
Mme. de Malestroit
A garden old beside a winding stream—
Oh, death in life!
A Nun
It was a soul set free.
By now a thousand shining leagues it’s mounted!
[The door at the left of the altar opens.
Enter Grégoire.
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Here is Grégoire!
Grégoire
Good-morrow, Citoyens!
Count Louis
Good-morrow, Gaoler.
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Ah, this place, Grégoire!
It is so triste! Shall we forever stay
Imprisoned in a church?
La Fôret
Oh, gayer far
The Bastille or Vincennes!
The Actress
These frowning saints!
The wind that whistles in!
Mme. de Malestroit
The stones so cold!
Count Louis
The Church will make us martyrs ere our time!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
And did you buy, Grégoire, the cards for ombre?
The Actress
Masks for our play?
De L’Orient
A violin?
The Actress
Wax-lights?
De Buc
The foils?
A Child
My ball, Grégoire?
Grégoire
I’ve nothing bought—
The judges sit to-day. Complain to them.
The church is cold! ‘Tis not so cold as Loire!
The prisons are too crowded! Well, to-day
We’ll weed them out!
De Buc
So!
Grégoire
You are warned! Prepare!
Make your farewells—the time is very short!
[Exit Grégoire.
De Buc
Strike camp!
De L’Orient
The open road!
Count Louis
Who goes?
La Fôret
Who stays?
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Our comedy!—we cannot have it now!
The Actress
Oh, we will rearrange the parts!
[De Vardes folds his letter and rises from the table.
De Vardes
We’ll play,
Though all the world is sliding ‘neath our feet!
De Buc
The world’s a stage—
The Nun
De profundis clamavi
Ad te Domine!
Enter the Abbé Jean de Barbasan, pale, wounded, and with
disordered dress.
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Monsieur l’Abbé!
De Vardes
Ah!
De Barbasan, we feared for you!
The Abbé
Morbleu!
I am reprieved! Lambertye proved my friend!
It seems that once I saved the villain’s life!—
Pure accident!—stumbled on him in a ditch,
Played the Samaritan!—so now I’m spared,
Come forth like Daniel from the lions’ den,
That Judgment Hall of theirs across the way!
Lions! They are not lions, they are wolves,
Hyenas, tigers, and baboons. Faugh!
De Buc
So!
They are hungry yet?
The Abbé
Oh, they are portents!
And portents are the folk that fill that hall!
Not women they who sit aloft and knit;
Not men, those scarecrow visages below;
For robed judges, wolves at Lammas tide,
And Nantes the winter forest for the pack!—
But ah, the deer at bay, the little lambs!—
The earth gives ‘neath their feet, they face the Loire!
[A confused sound from the square without the window;
voices, menacing and execrating, a cry, then
silence.
De Vardes
One has not gained the Loire!
The Abbé
Ah, oftentimes,
They fall before they reach the Judgment Hall!
There in the street, before that fatal door—
Both youth and age, fair women and brave men.
Their blood cries to another judgment seat!
From yonder window you may see it all!
The Marquise
We will not look!
Count Louis
Fie, fie, De Barbasan!
There is a time for everything! Not now,
Nor in this place is’t meet or debonair
To speak of ravening wolves or stricken deer!
To work, my friend! You find us much concerned
About this play of Molière’s! We give
Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme.
The Marquise
You’ll play Jourdain?
Béjart had promised us, but then he went.
He’s not returned.
The Abbé
Nor will, I think. But, yes,
I’ll take the part; I’ll speak in prose to you
To whom I else would speak in poetry!
The Marquise (with a curtesy)
Monsieur Jourdain, your prose is ravishing!—
I’m Dorimène.
De Buc
And I Dorante!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
Lucille.
Mme. de Malestroit
Nicole!
The Actress
I am, Monsieur Jourdain, your wife!
La Fôret
Your son-in-law the Turk!
De Vardes
Behold, monsieur,
Your fencing master!
De L’Orient
Your maître de danse.
Imagine, pray, you hear my violin:
La, la—The minuet!—La, la, la!
[He plays an imaginary violin. The prisoners hesitate,
laugh, then begin to step a minuet. The children
and the gaolers watch them. De Vardes does
not dance. He leans against a pillar to the left.
Enter a turnkey, Céleste, Angélique, Nanon, and
Séraphine.
Séraphine (crossing herself)
Eh! Eh! They dance!—Well, what a thing it is
To be a noble born!
Céleste (jealously)
We dance as well!
Séraphine
Ay, the Carmagnole!
Angélique
‘Tis a swifter dance!
Why came we here? I never liked this church,
They are too gay of heart, these ci-devants!
Let’s to the Judgment Hall, or to the Loire.
Céleste
Séraphine would come—
Séraphine
Patience, Citoyennes,
No haste! I’ve just a little word to speak
Unto monseigneur there.
Céleste
Monseigneur!
Séraphine
Oh,
The Citoyen Vardes! You know my tripping tongue.
Nanon (to the turnkey)
Where is that ci-devant men once did call
La belle Marquise?
The Turnkey
‘Tis she who dances there,
Fair-haired and dressed in violet.
Nanon
Awhile
I’ll watch her dance.
Céleste
Their cheeks are pale.
Angélique
They smile.
I would not smile if I were they.
[Nanon, Céleste, and Angélique watch the
dancers. Séraphine approaches De Vardes.
Séraphine (in a low voice)
Monseigneur!
De Vardes
Séraphine Robin, I believe?
Séraphine
Saint Yves!
Now just to think! Monseigneur knows my name!—
Eh! Morbec was my home for many a year.
When all is said and done, Home is just Home,
Hut or château—and always the De Vardes
Were lords of Morbec did they good or ill!
Most like ‘twas ill—but they were proper men!
And when they smiled we always said ‘twas day;
And old men say—but it was long ago—
A baron lived was named René the Good!
Saint Gil! Monseigneur gave us back Lisette.
Saint Maudez! ‘Tis a dangerous thing, but see!
[She takes from her bosom a silken purse.
Eh, monseigneur, ‘tis yours! Take it! Quick, quick,
Before Céleste—the baggage!—turns her head!
[She thrusts the purse into his hand.
De Vardes
From whom?
Séraphine
Look in it! You will see. ‘Tis gold.
De Vardes
Gold!
Séraphine
And something more.—Here is Angélique!
Angélique
Aristocrat—That ring upon thy finger—
Séraphine
Out!
De Vardes
Not yet, Citoyenne!
Angélique
Then afterwards!
I’ll have it at the trenches or the Loire!
[She rejoins Céleste and Nanon. They watch the
dancers.
De L’Orient
Nicole—Lucille—Cléonte—
Séraphine
My errand’s done—
Look in the purse, monseigneur, look at once!
De L’Orient
La, la, la, la!
De Vardes
I have no need of gold.
Séraphine
Look, monseigneur!
De Vardes
Again, from whom?
Séraphine
A friend.
De Vardes
I have no friend in Nantes. Take back thy purse!
Séraphine
It is not mine, the pretty, silken thing!
I swore that I would leave it, so I will!
And I was told to tell you, “Look within.”
[Nanon approaches.
Nanon
In Nantes one is Suspect when one is seen
Whispering in shadows with Aristocrats!
Séraphine
Nothing I said you might not hear, Nanon!
Come, come away!
(To De Vardes as she turns from him.) Monseigneur, have a care!
[Séraphine, Nanon, Céleste, and Angélique
watch the dancers. A grating sound is heard without
the door to the left of the altar. The turnkeys
move aside, the door opens and discloses a passage
lined with gaolers and soldiers.
Enter Grégoire with three or four Patriots. They wear
great boots, plumed hats, sashes of tricolour, sabres and
pistols.
De L’Orient
La, la, la, la, la!
Grégoire
The list for the day.
[The dance ceases.
Céleste
Now, now we’ll see the birds drop one by one!
Angélique
It is what I love!
Grégoire (He descends the step from the choir)
The list, Citoyens!
You whom I name pass out at yonder door.
Across the square the judges sit—
De Buc
Just so!
Who leads?
Grégoire
Citoyen, you!
De Buc
Promotion, by God!—
Messieurs, mesdames, I have marching orders!
(To the Actress and Mlle. de Château-Gui.) I cannot play Dorante! Is’t not a shame?
De L’Orient there must take my part—Adieu!
(To The Marquise.) Ah, Dorimène, you’ll let me kiss your hand?