ACT IV
THE KING
Scene.—Chambord. The guard-room in the Castle of Chambord
SCENE I
Duke de Bellegarde, rich court costume covered with embroidery and lace, the order of the Holy Ghost around his neck, and the star upon his cloak. Marquis de Nangis, in deep mourning and followed by his escort of Guards. Both cross the back of the hall
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Condemned?
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Condemned!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
E'en so! The King can pardon.
It is his kingly right and royal duty.
Have no more fear. In heart as well as name
He's son of Henry IV.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
I was his comrade.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Indeed, we spoiled full many a coat of armor
For the proud sire! Now go unto the son,
Show him your gray hairs, and in lieu of prayer
Cry out "Ventre Saint Gris!" Let Richelieu
Himself give better reason! Hide here now.
[He opens a side door.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Laugh at my mourning?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Ah, these coxcombs here!
Old friend, stay there; you'll not have long to wait.
I will dispose him 'gainst the Cardinal.
I'll stamp upon the ground for signal; then
Come out.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS (grasping his hand).
May God repay you!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (to a Musketeer who walks up and down in front of a small gilt door).
Monsieur, pray,
What does the King?
MUSKETEER.
He's working, my lord duke!
[Lowering his voice.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (aside).
At this moment
He is singing a death-warrant, I believe.
[To the old Marquis, grasping his hand.
[He conducts him to a neighboring gallery.
[Both go out. Marion, in deep mourning, enters through the great door in the back, which opens on a staircase.
SCENE II
Marion, the Guards
HALBERDIER (to Marion).
Madame, you cannot enter!
MARION (advancing).
Sir!
HALBERDIER (placing his halberd against the door).
I say,
No entrance!
MARION (with contempt).
Here you turn your lance against
A woman. Elsewhere, 'tis in her defense.
MUSKETEER (laughing, to Halberdier).
Well said!
MARION (firmly).
I must immediately have audience
With the Duke de Bellegarde.
HALBERDIER (lowering his halberd, aside).
Ah, these gallants!
MUSKETEER.
Enter, madame.
[She enters with determined step.
HALBERDIER (aside, watching her from the corner of his eye).
Well, the old duke is not
As feeble as he looks. This rendezvous
Would have cost him a sojourn in the Louvre,
In former times.
MUSKETEER (making sign to Halberdier to keep still).
The door is open.
[The little gilt door is opened. M. de Laffemas comes out, holding in his hand a parchment to which a red seal hangs by strands of silk.
SCENE III
Marion, Laffemas: gesture of surprise from both. Marion turns away from him with horror
LAFFEMAS (low, advancing slowly toward Marion).
You!
What is your errand here?
MARION.
What's yours?
LAFFEMAS (unrolls the parchment and spreads it out before her eyes).
Signed by
The King!
MARION (glances at it, then buries her face in her hands).
Good God!
LAFFEMAS (speaking in her ear).
Will you?
[Marion shivers and looks him in the face; he fixes his eyes on hers: lowering his voice.
MARION (pushing him away).
Away!
Foul tempter!
LAFFEMAS (straightening himself up, sneeringly).
You will not!
MARION.
I have no fear!
The King can pardon: 'tis the King who reigns.
LAFFEMAS.
Go try him. See what his good will is worth!
[He turns away, then turns back: folds his arms and whispers to her.
[Exits. Duke de Bellegarde enters.
SCENE IV
Marion, Duke de Bellegarde
MARION (going toward Duke de Bellegarde).
Here you are captain, my lord duke.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
'Tis you,
My beauty! [Bowing.
Speak! What does my queen desire?
MARION.
To see the King.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
When?
MARION.
Now!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
This is short notice!
Why?
MARION.
For something!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (bursting into a laugh).
We will send for him!
How she goes on!
MARION.
Then you refuse me?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Nay!
Am I not yours? Have we refused each other
Anything?
MARION.
That's very well, my lord!
When shall I see the King?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
After the Duke.
I promise you shall see him when he passes
Through this hall. But while waiting, talk with me!
Ah, little woman, are we good? In black?
Lady-in-waiting you might be. You used
To laugh so much.
MARION.
I don't laugh now.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Indeed!
I think she's weeping! Marion! You?
MARION (wiping her eyes: with firm tone).
My lord,
I want to see his Majesty at once!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
For what?
MARION.
Just Heaven! For—
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Is it against
The Cardinal?
MARION.
It is!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (opening the gallery for her).
Please enter here.
I put the discontented all in there;
Do not come out before the signal, please.
[Marion enters; he shuts door.
[The hall is gradually filled with Courtiers; they talk together. Duke de Bellegarde goes from one to the other. L'Angely enters.
SCENE V
The same. Duke de Beaupréau, Laffemas, Viscount de Rohan, Count de Charnacé, Abbé de Gondi, and other courtiers
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (to Duke de Beaupréau).
Good-morning, Duke!
DUKE DE BEAUPRÉAU.
Good-morning!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Any news?
DUKE DE BEAUPRÉAU.
There's talk of a new cardinal.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Which one?
The Archbishop of Arle?
DUKE DE BEAUPRÉAU.
No! Bishop of Autun.
All Paris thinks he has obtained the hat.
ABBÉ DE GONDI.
'Tis his by right. He was commander of
Artillery at the siege of La Rochelle.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
That's true!
L'ANGELY.
The Holy See has my approval.
This one will be a cardinal according
To the canons.
ABBÉ DE GONDI (laughing).
L'Angely—the fool!
L'ANGELY (bowing).
My lord knows all my names.
[Laffemas enters; all the Courtiers vie with each other in paying court to him and surrounding him. Duke de Bellegarde watches them with vexation.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (to L'Angely).
Fool, who's that man
Who wears the ermine cloak?
L'ANGELY.
Whom every one
Is paying court to?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Yes. I know him not.
Is he a follower of Monsieur d'Orleans?
L'ANGELY.
They would not fawn on him so much.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (watching Laffemas, who struts about).
What airs!
As if he were grandee of Spain!
L'ANGELY (low).
It is
Sir Laffemas, intendant of Champagne,
Lieutenant-Criminal—
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (low).
Infernal, say!
He's called the Cardinal's executioner?
L'ANGELY (still low).
The same.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
That man at Court!
L'ANGELY.
Why not? One extra
Tiger-cat in the menagerie!
Shall I present him?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (haughtily).
Peace, you fool!
L'ANGELY.
I think
I'd cultivate him if I were a lord.
Be friendly! Unto each man comes his day.
If he takes not your hand, he may your head.
[He seeks Laffemas, presents him to Duke de Bellegarde, who bows with ill-concealed displeasure.
LAFFEMAS (bowing).
Sir Duke!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Sir, I am charmed—
[Aside.] Upon my life,
We're fallen low, Monsieur de Richelieu!
[Laffemas walks away.
VISCOUNT DE ROHAN (bursting into laughter among a group of Courtiers in the back of the hall).
Delightful!
L'ANGELY.
What?
VISCOUNT DE ROHAN.
That Marion is here.
L'ANGELY.
Here—Marion?
VISCOUNT DE ROHAN.
We were just saying this:
"Chaste Louis's guest is Marion." How rich!
L'ANGELY.
A charming piece of wit, indeed, my lord!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (to Count de Charnacé).
Sir wolf-hunter, have you found any prey?
Is hunting good?
COUNT DE CHARNACÉ.
There's nothing! Yesterday
I had great expectations, for three peasants
Had been devoured by wolves. At first I thought
We would find several at Chambord. I beat
The woods, but not a wolf, nor trace of one!
[To L'Angely.] Fool, know you anything that's gay?
L'ANGELY.
Nothing,
My lord, except two men will soon be hanged
At Beaugency for dueling.
ABBÉ DE GONDI.
So little,
Bah! [The small gilt door is opened.
AN USHER.
The King!
[The King enters; he is in black, his eyes are cast down. The order of the Holy Ghost is on his doublet and his cloak. Hat on his head. The Courtiers all uncover and range themselves, silently, in two rows. The Guards lower their pikes and present muskets.
SCENE VI
The same. The King. The King enters slowly, passes through the crowd of Courtiers, without lifting his head, stops at front of stage, and stands for several instants absorbed and silent. The Courtiers retire to the back of the hall
THE KING.
All things move on from bad to worse. Yes, all!
[To Courtiers, nodding his head.
[He throws himself into a large armchair and sighs profoundly.
[To Duke de Bellegarde.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (advancing with three profound salutations).
The time for sleeping, sire, is past.
THE KING (eagerly).
True, Duke! The State is rushing to destruction
With giant strides!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
'Tis guided by a hand
Both strong and wise.
THE KING.
He bears a heavy burden,
Our good lord cardinal!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Sire!
THE KING.
He is old.
I ought to spare him, but I have enough
To do with living, without reigning!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Sire,
The Cardinal's not old!
THE KING.
Pray, tell me frankly—
No one is watching or is listening here—
What do you think of him?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Of whom, sire?
THE KING.
Him!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
His Eminence?
THE KING.
Of course!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
My dazzled eyes
Can hardly fix themselves—
THE KING.
Is that your frankness?
There is no cardinal here, nor red, nor gray!
No spies! Speak! Why are you afraid? The King
Wants your opinion of the Cardinal.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Entirely frank, sire?
THE KING.
Yes, entirely frank.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (boldly).
Well, then, I think him a great man!
THE KING.
If needful
You would proclaim it on the house-tops? Good!
Can you not understand? The State, mark me,
Is suffering, because he does it all
And I am nothing!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Ah!
THE KING.
Rules he not war
And peace, finances, states? Makes he not laws,
Edicts, mandates, and ordinances too?
Through treachery he broke the Catholic league;
He strikes the house of Austria—friendly
To me—to which the Queen belongs.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Ah, sire,
He lets you keep a vivary within
The Louvre. You have your share.
THE KING.
Then he intrigues
With Denmark.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
But he let you fix the marc
Among the jewelers.
THE KING (whose ill-humor increases).
He fights with Rome!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
He let you issue an edict, alone,
By which a citizen was not allowed
To eat more than a crown's worth at a tavern,
E'en though he wished to.
THE KING.
All the treaties he
Concludes in secret.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Yes; but then you have
Your hunting mansion at Planchette.
THE KING.
All—all!
He does it all! All with petitions rush
To him! I'm but a shadow to the French!
Is there a single one who comes to me
For help?
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Those who have the king's evil come.
[The anger of The King increases.
THE KING.
He means to give my order to his brother!
I will not have it! I rebel.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
But, sire—
THE KING.
I am disgusted with his people!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Sire!
THE KING.
His niece, Combalet, leads a model life.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
'Tis slander, sire!
THE KING.
Two hundred foot-guards!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
But
Only a hundred horse-guards!
THE KING.
What a shame!
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
He saves France, sire.
THE KING.
Does he? He damns my soul!
With one arm fights the heathen, with the other
He signs a compact with the Huguenots.
[Whispering to Duke de Bellegarde.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Treats he his own
More kindly? Did he spare Saint Preuil?
THE KING.
He has
A bitter tenderness, they say, for those
He loves. He must love me tremendously!
[Abruptly, after a pause, folding his arms.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
But he thinks
He does your will. He's faithful. He is firm
And sure.
THE KING.
I hate him! He is in my way.
He crushes me! I am not master here—
Not free! And yet I might be something. Ah,
When he walks o'er me with such heavy tread,
Does he not fear to rouse a slumbering king?
For trembling near me, be it ne'er so high,
His fortune vacillates with every breath
I draw, and all would crumble at a word,
Did I wish loud, what I wish in my heart!
[A pause.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE.
Your Majesty is suffering?
THE KING.
I am bored.
[A pause.
[Duke de Bellegarde stamps his foot. Enter Marquis de Nangis and Marion.
SCENE VII
The same. Marion, Marquis de Nangis. Marquis de Nangis advances with his escort to within a few steps of The King; he kneels there. Marion falls on her knees at the door
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Justice, my sire.
THE KING.
Against whom? Speak!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Against a cruel tyrant—against Armand,
Called here the cardinal-minister!
MARION.
Mercy,
My sire!
THE KING.
For whom?
MARION.
For Didier!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
And for him,
Gaspard de Saverny!
THE KING.
I've heard those names.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Justice and mercy, sire!
THE KING.
What title?
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Sire,
I am uncle of one.
THE KING.
And you?
MARION.
I'm sister
Unto the other!
THE KING.
Why do you come here,
Sister and uncle?
MARQUIS DE NANGIS (indicating first one of The King's hands, then the other).
To entreat mercy
From this hand, and justice from that! My sire,
I, William, Marquis de Nangis, Captain
Of Hundred Lances, Baron of Mountain
And Field, do make appeal to my two lords—
The King of France and God, for justice 'gainst
Armand du Plessis, Cardinal Richelieu.
Gaspard de Saverny, for whom I make
This prayer, is my nephew—
MARION (low to Marquis de Nangis).
Oh, speak for both,
My lord!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS (continuing).
Last month he had a duel with
A captain, a young nobleman, Didier.
Of parentage uncertain. 'Twas a fault.
They were too rash and brave. The minister
Had stationed sergeants—
THE KING.
Yes, I know the story.
Well, what have you to say?
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
That 'tis high time
You thought about these things! The Cardinal-Duke
Has more than one disastrous scheme afoot.
He drinks the best blood of your subjects, sire!
Your father, Henry IV., of royal heart,
Would not have sacrificed his nobles thus!
He never struck them down without dire need!
Well served by them, he sought to guard them well.
He knew good soldiers had more use in them
Than trunkless heads. He knew their worth in war,
This soldier-king whose doublet smelled of battle!
Great days were those. I shared, I honor them!
A few of the old race are living yet.
Never could priest have touched one of those lords.
There was no selling of a great head cheap!
Sire, in these treacherous days to which we've come,
Trust an old man, keep a few nobles by.
Perhaps, in your turn, you will need their help.
The time may come when you will groan to think
Of all the honors lavished on La Grève!
Then, sadly, your regretful eyes will seek
Those lords indomitably brave and true,
Who, dead so long, had still been young to-day.
The country's heart yet pants with civil war;
The tocsin of past years re-echoes yet,
Be saving of the executioner's arm!
He is the one should sheathe his sword, not we!
Be miserly with scaffolds, O my sire!
'Twill be a woful thing some later day
To mourn this great man's help, who hangs to-day
A whitening skeleton on gallows-tree!
For blood, my king, is no good, wholesome dew.
You'll reap no crops from irrigated Grève!
The people will avoid the sight of kings.
That flattering voice which tells you all is well,
Tells you you're son of Henry IV., and Bourbon—
That voice, my sire, however high it soars,
Can never drown the thud of falling heads!
Take my advice: play not this costly game.
You, King, are bound to look God in the face,
Hark to the words of fate, ere it rebels!
War is a nobler thing than massacre!
'Tis not a prosperous nor joyful State
When headsmen have more work than soldiers have!
He for our country is a pastor hard,
Who dares collect his tithes in slaughtered heads!
Look! this proud lord of inhumanity
Who holds your scepter has blood-covered hands!
THE KING.
The Cardinal's my friend! Who loves me must
Love him!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Sire!
THE KING.
Silence! He's my second self.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Sire!
THE KING.
Bring no more such griefs to trouble me!
[Showing his hair, which is beginning to turn gray.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
An old man, sire; a woman, sire, who weeps!
A word from you is life or death for us!
THE KING.
What do you ask?
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Pardon for my Gaspard!
MARION.
Pardon for Didier!
THE KING.
Pardons of a king
Are often thefts from justice!
MARION.
Oh, no, sire!
Since God himself is merciful, you need
Not fear! Have pity! Two young, thoughtless men,
Pushed by this duel o'er a precipice
To die! Good God! to die upon the gallows!
You will have pity, won't you? I don't know
How people talk to kings—I'm but a woman;
To weep so much perhaps is wrong. But oh,
A monster is that cardinal of yours.
Why does he hate them? They did naught to him.
He never saw my Didier. All who do
Must love him! They're so young—these two! To die
For just a duel! Think about their mothers.
Oh, it is horrible! You will not do it, sire!
We women cannot talk as well as men.
We've only cries and tears and knees, which bend
And totter as kings turn their eyes on us.
They were in fault, of course! But if they broke
Your law, you can forgive it! What is youth?
Young people are so heedless! For a look,
A word, a trifle, anything or nothing,
They always lose their heads like that! Such things
Are happening every day. Each noble, here,
He knows it. Ask them, sire! Is it not true,
My lords? Oh, frightful hour of agony!
To know with one word you can save two lives!
I'd love you all my life, sire, if you would
Have mercy—mercy, God! If I knew how,
I'd talk so that you'd have to say that word.
You'd pardon them; you'd say, "I must console
That woman, for her Didier is her soul."
I suffocate, sire. Pity, pity me!
THE KING.
Who is this woman?
MARION.
She's a sister, sire,
Who trembles at your feet. You owe something
Unto your people!
THE KING.
Yes! I owe myself
To them, and dueling does grievous harm.
MARION.
You should have pity!
THE KING.
And obedience, too!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Two boys of twenty years! Think of it well!
Their years together are but half of mine!
MARION.
Your Majesty, you have a mother, wife,
A son—some one at least who's dear to you!
A brother? Then have pity for a sister!
THE KING.
No, I have not a brother! [Reflects a moment.
Yes, Monsieur!
[Perceiving the escort of Marquis de Nangis.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
I'm better, sire,
Than any duke and peer, created for mere show!
I'm Breton baron of four baronies.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (aside).
His pride is great, and here, unfortunate!
THE KING.
Good! To your manors carry back your rights,
And leave us ours within our own domain.
We are justiciary!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS (shuddering).
Sire, reflect!
Think of their age, their expiated fault!
[Falling on his knees.
[The King makes an abrupt sign of anger and refusal.
[He makes a profound obeisance, and exits. Marion lifts herself with difficulty, and, staggering, falls on the threshold of the gilt door of The King's private room.
THE KING (to Duke de Bellegarde, wiping his eyes and watching the retreating figure of Marquis de Nangis).
A sad interview!
Ah, not to weaken, kings must watch themselves!
To do right is not easy. I was touched.
[Reflects for a moment, then interrupts himself suddenly.
[Approaching Duke de Bellegarde.
[With a gesture dismissing Courtiers and Guards.
[All go out except Marion, whom The King does not see. Duke de Bellegarde sees her crouching on the threshold of the door and goes to her.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (low to Marion).
My child,
You can't remain here, crouching by this door;
What are you doing like a statue there?
Get up and go away!
MARION.
I'm waiting here
For them to kill me!
L'ANGELY (low to Duke de Bellegarde).
Leave her there, my lord!
[Low to Marion.] Remain!
[He returns to The King, who is seated in the great armchair and is in a profound reverie.
SCENE VIII
The King, L'Angely
THE KING (sighing deeply).
Ah! L'Angely, my heart is sick.
'Tis full of bitterness. I cannot smile.
You, only, have the power to cheer me. Come!
You stand in no awe of my majesty.
Come, throw a glint of pleasure in my soul.
[A pause.
L'ANGELY.
Life is a bitter thing, your Majesty.
THE KING.
Alas!
L'ANGELY.
Man is a breath ephemeral!
THE KING.
A breath, and nothing more!
L'ANGELY.
Unfortunate
Is any one who is both man and king.
Is it not true?
THE KING.
A double burden—yes.
L'ANGELY.
And better far than life, sire, is the tomb,
If but its gloom is deep enough!
THE KING.
I've thought
That always!
L'ANGELY.
To be dead or unborn is
The only happiness. Yes, man's condemned!
THE KING.
You give me pleasure when you talk like this!
[A silence.
L'ANGELY.
Once in the tomb, think you one e'er gets out?
THE KING (whose sadness has increased with the Fool's words).
We'll know that later. I wish I were there!
[Silence.
L'ANGELY.
I see it in your face so thin and worn,
And in your mourning—
THE KING.
Ah, why should I laugh?
Your tricks are lost on me! What use is life
To you? The fine profession! Jester to the King!
Bell out of tune, a jumping-jack to play with,
Whose half-cracked laugh is but a poor grimace!
What is there in the world for you, poor toy?
Why do you live?
L'ANGELY.
For curiosity.
But you—why should you live? I pity you!
I'd sooner be a woman than a king
Like you. I'm but a jumping-jack whose string
You hold; but underneath your royal coat
There's hid a tauter string, a strong arm holds.
Better a jumping-jack in a king's hands
Than in a priest's, my sire.
[Silence.
THE KING (thinking, growing more and more sad).
You speak the truth,
Although you laugh. He is a fearful man!
Has Satan made himself a cardinal?
What if 'twere Satan who possessed my soul!
What say you?
L'ANGELY.
I have often had that thought
Myself!
THE KING.
We must not speak thus. 'Tis a sin!
Behold, how dire misfortune follows me!
I had some Spanish cormorants. I come
To this place—not a drop of water here
For fishing! In the country! Not a pond
In this accursed Chambord large enough
To drown a flesh-worm! When I wish to hunt—
The sea! And when I wish to fish—the fields!
Am I unfortunate enough?
L'ANGELY.
Your life
Is full of woe.
THE KING.
How will you comfort me?
L'ANGELY.
Another grief! You hold in high esteem,
And justly too, the art of training hawks
For hunting partridges. A good huntsman—
You're one—ought to respect the falconer.
THE KING.
The falconer! A god!
L'ANGELY.
Well! there are two
Who are at point of death!
THE KING.
Two falconers?
L'ANGELY.
Yes!
THE KING.
Who are they?
L'ANGELY.
Two famous ones!
THE KING.
But who?
L'ANGELY.
Those two young men whose lives were begged of you!
THE KING.
Gaspard and Didier?
L'ANGELY.
Yes; they are the last.
THE KING.
What a calamity! Two falconers!
Now that the art is very nearly lost.
Unhappy duel! When I'm dead, this art
Will go from earth, as all things go at last!
Why did they fight this duel?
L'ANGELY.
One declared
That hawks upon the wing were not as swift
As falcons.
THE KING.
He was wrong. But yet that seems
Scarcely a hanging matter— [Silence.
And my right
Of pardon is inviolable—though
I am too lenient, says the Cardinal! [Silence.
[To L'Angely.] The Cardinal desires their death?
L'ANGELY.
He does!
THE KING (after pausing and reflecting).
Then they shall die!
L'ANGELY.
They shall!
THE KING.
Poor falconry!
L'ANGELY (going to window).
Sire, look!
THE KING (turns around suddenly).
At what?
L'ANGELY.
Just look, I beg of you!
THE KING (rising and going to the window).
What is it?
L'ANGELY (indicating something outside).
They have changed the sentinel!
THE KING.
Well, is that all?
L'ANGELY.
Who is that fellow with
The yellow lace?
THE KING.
No one—the corporal!
L'ANGELY.
He puts a new man there. What says he, low?
THE KING.
The password! Fool! What are you driving at?
L'ANGELY.
At this: Kings act the part of sentinels.
Instead of pikes, a scepter they must bear.
When they have strutted 'round their little day,
Death comes—the corporal of kings—and puts
Another scepter-bearer in their place,
Speaking the password which God sends, and which
Is clemency.
THE KING.
No, it is justice. Ah,
Two falconers! It is a frightful loss!
Still, they must die.
L'ANGELY.
As you must die, and I.
Or big or little, death has appetite
For all. But though they've not much room,
The dead sleep well. The Cardinal annoys
And wearies you. Wait, sire! A day, a month,
A year; when we have played as long as needful—
I, my own part of fool; you, king; and he,
The master—we will go to sleep. No matter
How proud or great we are, no one shall have
More than six feet of territory there.
Look! how they bear his lordly litter now!
THE KING.
Yes, life is dark; the tomb alone is bright.
If you were not at hand to cheer me up—
L'ANGELY.
Alas! I came to-day to say farewell.
THE KING.
What's that?
L'ANGELY.
I leave you!
THE KING.
You're a crazy fool!
Death, only, frees from royal service.
L'ANGELY.
Well,
I am about to die!
THE KING.
Have you gone mad?
L'ANGELY.
You have condemned me—you, the King of France!
THE KING.
If you are joking, fool, explain yourself.
L'ANGELY.
I shared the duel of those two young men—
At least my sword did, sire, if I did not.
I here surrender it.
[Draws his sword and, kneeling, presents it to The King.
THE KING (takes it and examines it).
Indeed, a sword!
Where does it come from, friend?
L'ANGELY.
We're noble, sire!
The guilty are not pardoned. I am one.
THE KING (somber and stern).
Good night, then! Let me kiss your neck, poor fool,
Before they cut it off. [Embraces L'Angely.
L'ANGELY (aside).
He's in dead earnest!
THE KING (after a pause).
For never does a worthy king oppose
The course of justice. But you claim too much,
Lord Cardinal—two falconers and my fool!
All for one duel!
[Greatly agitated, he walks up and down with his hand on his forehead. Then he turns to L'Angely, who is most anxious.
L'ANGELY (aside).
The devil!
[The King continues to pace the floor and appears violently agitated.
THE KING.
And so, you think you'll have to hang, poor fool!
L'ANGELY (aside).
He means it! God! I feel cold perspiration
Starting upon my brow.
[Aloud.] Unless a word
From you—
THE KING.
Whom shall I have to make me laugh?
If you should rise from out the tomb, come back
And tell me all about it. 'Tis a chance!
L'ANGELY.
The errand is a pleasant one!
[The King continues to walk rapidly, speaking to L'Angely now and then.
THE KING.
What triumph
For my lord cardinal—my fool!
[Folding his arms.
L'ANGELY.
Montaigne would say, "Who knows?" And Rabelais,
"Perhaps."
THE KING (with gesture of determination).
Give me a parchment, fool.
[L'Angely eagerly hands a parchment which he finds on the table near the writing-desk. The King hastily writes a few words, then gives the parchment back to L'Angely.
L'ANGELY.
All three?
THE KING.
Yes.
L'ANGELY (running to Marion).
Come, madame,
Come, kneel, and thank the King.
MARION (falling on her knees).
We have the pardon?
L'ANGELY.
Yes! It was I—
MARION.
Whose knees must I embrace—
His Majesty's or yours?
THE KING (astonished, examining Marion: aside).
What does this mean?
Is this a trap?
L'ANGELY (giving parchment to Marion).
Here is the pardon. Take it!
[Marion kisses it, and puts it in her bosom.
THE KING (aside).
Have I been duped?
[To Marion.] One instant! Give it back!
MARION.
Good God!
[To The King, with courage, touching her breast.
[The King stops and steps backward, much embarrassed.
L'ANGELY (low to Marion).
Good! Keep it, and be firm!
His Majesty won't take it, there!
THE KING (to Marion).
Give it
To me!
MARION.
Take it, my sire!
THE KING (casting down his eyes).
Who is this siren?
L'ANGELY (low to Marion).
He wouldn't touch the corset of the Queen!
THE KING (after a moment's hesitation, dismisses Marion with a gesture without looking at her).
Well, go!
MARION (bowing profoundly to The King).
I'll fly to save the prisoners! [Exits.
L'ANGELY (to The King).
She's sister to Didier, the falconer.
THE KING.
She can be what she will. It's very strange,
The way she made me drop my eyes! Made me,
A man— [Silence.
Fool, you have played a trick on me!
I'll have to pardon you a second time.
L'ANGELY.
Yes, do it! Every time they grant a pardon,
Kings lift a dreary weight from off their hearts.
THE KING.
You speak the truth. I always suffer when
La Grève holds court. Nangis was right: the dead
Serve nobody. To fill Montfaucon
I make a desert of the Louvre!
[Walking rapidly.
[After reflection.
L'ANGELY.
One can, sometimes,
Be kingly by mistake.