SCENE I
A Judgment Hall in Nantes. A dais upon which at a heavy table sit several members of the Revolutionary Committee. Behind them soldiers and a great tricolour flag. To one side a tribune draped with tricolour; opposite the tribune a gallery filled with women of the Revolution. Upon the floor of the hall a throng of red-capped men. To the right of the dais a number of the accused, men and women. To the left a small group of the condemned.
Uproar in the hall. An accused who has been standing before the judges rejoins the right-hand group of prisoners. One of the judges rings the bell on the table before him.
The Judge
Silence, Citoyennes in the gallery!
You disturb judgment!
Céleste (leaning from the gallery)
We would know up here
Why you did free that man?
The Judge (soothingly)
Ah, Citoyenne!
He’s not free—he’s but acquitted!
Céleste
Ah, well!
That’s different!
(To the women about her.) He’s but acquitted!
The Women (They nod their heads)
Ah!
Enter Lalain with Nanon and Angélique.
Céleste
Hé! Angélique! Nanon!
[Nanon and Angélique make their way through
the press to the gallery stairs.
The Crowd
Rémond Lalain.
A Judge
Thy place is here, Lalain!
Lalain
Make way, my friends.
The Levée’s thronged to-day.
The Crowd
Ha, ha, ‘tis so!
Levée of the Citoyen Carrier!
Vive la République! Vive Rémond Lalain!
[Lalain sits beside the judges.
A Judge (to a gaoler)
The next.
The Gaoler
Dog of a priest!
[The Abbé approaches the bar.
The Abbé
On yesterday,
Messieurs the Judges, you acquitted me.
A Judge
It is to-day.
The Abbé
Citoyen Lambertye—
Lambertye (hastily)
I give thee o’er—I give thee o’er—
The Abbé
Parbleu!
Samaritan! Would I had played Levite!
And left thee in the ditch with every wound
Till Satan came to hale his minion forth!—
Well, with this life I’ve done!
First Judge
Thou art a priest
The Abbé
Granted.
Second Judge
Death!
A Tricoteuse (from the gallery)
Hé! Citoyen, below there!
I’ve dropped my knitting. Throw it here to me!
Third Judge
Thou hast aided emigrés.
The Abbé
Granted.
Second Judge
Death!
First Judge
And written unto exiles.
The Abbé
Granted.
Second Judge
Death!
Third Judge
Thou hast been heard to scorn and to lament
That which the Revolution hath achieved!
The Abbé
Scorn and lament! Why, no, I’ve wept with joy
To see the things the Revolution hath achieved!
As—
First Judge
As what?
The Abbé
Why, thou death’s-head, many things!
It did achieve, for one, my brother’s death!
Third Judge
Dost thou mourn for him?
The Abbé
Ay!
Second Judge
Death!
The Abbé
Achieve! I like the word. Achieve, achieve!
Ruin and downfall, death and waste of fame!
Achievement of the Revolution! Ha,
I’ll tell thee, farceur, what it hath achieved:
It hath achieved the death of the Gironde,
Death of Marat, and death of D’Orléans,
Death of great part of its abhorrèd brood!
It hath achieved the Company of Marat;
It hath achieved Jacques Carrier in Nantes;
It shall achieve more death and infamy!
Death! The word you are so fond of. Death!
And Infamy, the thing you can’t bestow!
It shall achieve the death of Carrier,
The death of Lambertye and of Lalain,
The death of Danton and of Robespierre!—
Nature will give a grave obscene and dark,
And Time will see that docks and darnels grow!
[Uproar.
The First Judge
Death,—stand aside, condemned.
Enter Séraphine.
Céleste
Ah, Séraphine,
Come up here, Séraphine!
[Séraphine mounts the stair and sits beside Céleste,
Angélique, and Nanon.
Nanon
Where is Yvette?
Séraphine
I know not, I!
Angélique
I saw her gliding by,
Beneath the moon, last night when all was still.
Against a cannon in the empty square
She leaned, and on the river looked.
Séraphine
What harm?
Angélique
Why, none!
Céleste (her eyes upon the prisoners below)
Ha, ha! it is the old man’s turn!
A Gaoler
Château-Gui!
The Woman
Ah, Château-Gui!
First Judge
Château-Gui!
Mlle. de Château-Gui
O my father!
Count Louis
Unclasp thy hands, my child!
What is it, Lambertye?
First Judge
Thou ci-devant,
Thou art accused, imprimatur, of this:
Once thou didst serve Capet!
Count Louis
The King?
First Judge
Capet.
Count Louis
I served the King of France.
First Judge
Twice over, death! For thou didst serve Capet;
For thou dost dare say the King of France!
Count Louis
The King of France!
The Crowd
Ah!—
Count Louis
Son of Saint Louis!
The Crowd
Ah!—
Count Louis
Royal Martyr!
The Crowd
Ah—h—h.
Mlle. de Château-Gui
O my father!
Third Judge
All titles, terms of honour and of state,
Majesty and reverence are forbid,
Not to be spoken! They are ci-devants,
They are condemned.
The Crowd
Condemned!
Count Louis
Ha, ci-devants,
Titles and symbols, names and attributes,
Condemned for splendour and for high estate!
Ha, Croix de Saint Louis! Ha, Château-Gui!
Thou goest to heaven in famous company:
King, Saint, Martyr, Reverence, Majesty.—
Best make the company a regiment—
Regiment du Roi, in vestments gorgeous!
Forbidden words! Who says to me “forbid”?
Ye sans-culottes, ye bourgeois, creeping things,
Adders and asps that slew a king and queen!
I am a courtier of the olden time
Who served le Grand Monarque, knew Mazarin,
And in a Court shall still be courtier,
Croix de Saint Louis, with the grande entrée,
While ye do prowl in filthy ways of hell,
Nor hardly see its red-lit Œil-de-bœuf
Where everlasting Terror, groaning, reigns,—
But, being lackeys, keep the lackeys’ place!
First Judge
Enough!
Second Judge
Death!
The Crowd
Death! The Loire!
Count Louis
O Kings of France!
O sons of Clovis and of Charlemagne!
Louis the Pious and the Debonair!
Philippe August and Fair, and Charles the Wise!
And thou the sainted King, the Blessed Louis!
And Charles Bien-Aimé, Victorieux,
Crowned by the maiden of Domrémy!
And the good King Henri, Henri the Great!
Louis the Just, Louis le Grand Monarque!
Louis the Loved, and Louis lately dead,
The Martyr King, the Martyr, Martyr King!—
O Kings of France in that fair land ye be,
To your châteaux and to your palaces
Prepare to welcome dying loyalty!
For knightly faith is marching forth from France.
Throne, sceptre, orb, and majesty have passed,
Ermine and coronet and spur of gold,
Renown and splendid honour, valiant sway,
Ancien Régime, noblesse of old France!
The oriflamme upon its golden stem,
The banner of the lilies waving high!—
The Crowd
Ah—
Count Louis
The lily banner and the oriflamme!
Forgotten yonder stripes of shame and woe!
The Crowd
The tricolour! Death! The Loire!
First Judge
Death to-night!
Count Louis
Nightshade, mandrake, and hemlock o’er ye wave!—
But I am going where, I make no doubt,
The favourite flower is still the fleur-de-lis!
The Crowd
Ah!
Count Louis
And the word forbid is république!
The Crowd
Down! down!
Count Louis
Princes and peers of France!
First Judge
Have done!
Count Louis
Anjou, Lorraine!
The Crowd
Ah—h—h!
Count Louis
Bourbon and Valois!
[Uproar in the hall. Mlle. de Château-Gui
clings to her father’s arm.
Forbidden words! Well, well, my child, I’m done!
My breath is out.—Forbidden words! Ma foi!
‘Tis to my taste to deal in contraband!
[The First Judge rings the bell violently. The tumult
subsides.
A Gaoler
Château-Gui, take place beside the priest!
The Abbé
Ah,
Monsieur le Comte!
Count Louis
Monsieur l’Abbé!
[He offers his snuff-box.
First Judge
The next.
Enter Yvette. The crowd murmurs as it makes way.
The Crowd
Yvette Charruel!
A Man
Goddess of Reason!
[Yvette mounts the stair to the gallery and sits beside
Séraphine.
Céleste
So pale!
Angélique
No rose?
Nanon
Only her lips are red.
Céleste
So heavy-eyed?
Yvette
I have not slept.
A Young Girl (near her)
Oh, oh,
Thy voice! ‘Tis like a violin playing!
Angélique
I know thou didst not sleep.—How looked the Loire
Beneath the moon last night?
Yvette
Much as ‘twill look
Beneath the moon to-night.
[With her chin upon her hand she studies the throng
below.
Séraphine
The prisoners—
Yvette
Who rises there?
First Judge
Thou ci-devant, De Vardes!
The Crowd
De Vardes! De Vardes! Aristocrat! De Vardes!
De Vardes
Rémond Lalain—
Lalain
René de Vardes.
De Vardes
This court—
Pray you conceive it is some greensward trim,
My cartel sent, received, the duel fought,
And thou the victor, since so wags the world,
Heart’s blood of mine upon thy rapier dark!
And I the vanquished in the sight of men,
Drowsing to death upon the bloody sod.
And all this folk but seconds, witnesses,
They are not here, nor there; we are the men!
Now, seeing death hath some prerogative,
I charge thee stand, antagonist! nor leave
This sunny field with thy triumphant friends
Until I bid thee go!
Lalain
I hear!
(To the crowd.) Silence!
De Vardes
When I do think that once I called thee friend,
My wonder grows! The orchard’s blooming now
Where we did lie at length on summer eves
The while the mavis sang and sea winds blew,
And to the nodding clover droned the bee,—
Two striplings couched beneath an apple tree,
Talking of knights at arms and paladins
And what we each would dare in worthy cause!
That brow of thine was not so swarthy then,
Thine eyes were frank, we read from the same book
The deeds of Palmerin and Amadis.
Then up we lightly rose and went our way,
Hand touching hand,—Orestes, Pylades!
I, Jonathan the Prince, and David thou!
The figure holds, for Jonathan will die,
But wilt thou mourn him, David? No, I say!—
Nor o’er his kingdom shalt thou reign, Rémond!
Lalain
René—
De Vardes
I am, monsieur, the Baron of Morbec!
The Crowd
Ah!
Lalain
Silence!
(To De Vardes.) As thou wilt! He is long dead
That youth thou namest David.
De Vardes
Ay, Citoyen,
He slew himself. I see his punishment.
Lalain
Oh!—
De Vardes
Wretched man! What hast thou done? I know,
And thou, Rémond, dost know I know! Enough.
O better far to lie upon this sod
And hear the wings of death above my head,
Than to be thou, thou stainèd conqueror!
Dishonoured thou from helm to bloody heel!
Enough! When the cock crows and the morning star
Shines steadfast over Loire I shall be gone.
One stays, that’s God. Do thou beware, Rémond,
For God will hearken unto Jonathan—
Thou canst not hurt a flower that he loved!
Lalain
No?
De Vardes
No!
Lalain
Thou mightst have had thy life—
De Vardes
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