ACT III.
Residence of the KING at Chalons on the Marne.
SCENE I.
DUNOIS, LA HIRE.
DUNOIS.
We have been true heart-friends, brothers in arms,
Still have we battled in a common cause,
And held together amid toil and death.
Let not the love of woman rend the bond
Which hath resisted every stroke of fate.
LA HIRE.
Hear me, my prince!
DUNOIS.
You love the wondrous maid,
And well I know the purpose of your heart.
You think without delay to seek the king,
And to entreat him to bestow on you
Her hand in marriage. Of your bravery
The well-earned guerdon he cannot refuse
But know,—ere I behold her in the arms
Of any other——
LA HIRE.
Listen to me, prince!
DUNOIS.
'Tis not the fleeting passion of the eye
Attracts me to her. My unconquered sense
Had set at naught the fiery shafts of love
Till I beheld this wondrous maiden, sent
By a divine appointment to become
The savior of this kingdom, and my wife;
And on the instant in my heart I vowed
A sacred oath, to bear her home, my bride.
For she alone who is endowed with strength
Can be the strong man's friend. This glowing heart
Longs to repose upon a kindred breast,
Which can sustain and comprehend its strength.
LA HIRE.
How dare I venture, prince, my poor deserts
To measure with your name's heroic fame!
When Count Dunois appeareth in the lists,
Each humbler suitor must forsake the field;
Still it doth ill become a shepherd maid
To stand as consort by your princely side.
The royal current in your veins would scorn
To mix with blood of baser quality.
DUNOIS.
She, like myself, is holy Nature's child,
A child divine—hence we by birth are equal.
She bring dishonor on a prince's hand,
Who is the holy angel's bride, whose head
Is by a heavenly glory circled round,
Whose radiance far outshineth earthly crowns,
Who seeth lying far beneath her feet
All that is greatest, highest of this earth!
For thrones on thrones, ascending to the stars,
Would fail to reach the height where she abides
In angel majesty!
LA HIRE.
Our monarch must decide.
DUNOIS.
Not so! she must
Decide! Free hath she made this realm of France,
And she herself must freely give her heart.
LA HIRE.
Here comes the king!
SCENE II.
CHARLES, AGNES, SOREL, DUCHATEL, and CHATILLON.
The same.
CHARLES (to CHATILLON).
He comes! My title he will recognize,
And do me homage as his sovereign liege?
CHATILLON.
Here, in his royal town of Chalons, sire,
The duke, my master, will fall down before thee.
He did command me, as my lord and king,
To give thee greeting. He'll be here anon.
SOREL.
He comes! Hail beauteous and auspicious day,
Which bringeth joy, and peace, and reconcilement!
CHATILLON.
The duke, attended by two hundred knights,
Will hither come; he at thy feet will kneel;
But he expecteth not that thou to him
Should yield the cordial greeting of a kinsman.
CHARLES.
I long to clasp him to my throbbing heart.
CHATILLON.
The duke entreats that at this interview,
No word be spoken of the ancient strife!
CHARLES.
In Lethe be the past forever sunk!
The smiling future now invites our gaze.
CHATILLON.
All who have combated for Burgundy
Shall be included in the amnesty.
CHARLES.
So shall my realm be doubled in extent!
CHATILLON.
Queen Isabel, if she consent thereto,
Shall also be included in the peace.
CHARLES.
She maketh war on me, not I on her.
With her alone it rests to end our quarrel.
CHATILLON.
Twelve knights shall answer for thy royal word.
CHARLES.
My word is sacred.
CHATILLON.
The archbishop shall
Between you break the consecrated host,
As pledge and seal of cordial reconcilement.
CHARLES.
Let my eternal weal be forfeited,
If my hand's friendly grasp belie my heart.
What other surety doth the duke require?
CHATILLON (glancing at DUCHATEL).
I see one standing here, whose presence, sire,
Perchance might poison the first interview.
[DUCHATEL retires in silence.
CHARLES.
Depart, Duchatel, and remain concealed
Until the duke can bear thee in his sight.
[He follows him with his eye, then hastens after
and embraces him.
True-hearted friend! Thou wouldst far more than this
Have done for my repose!
[Exit DUCHATEL.
CHATILLON.
This instrument doth name the other points.
CHARLES (to the ARCHBISHOP).
Let it be settled. We agree to all.
We count no price too high to gain a friend.
Go now, Dunois, and with a hundred knights,
Give courteous conduct to the noble duke.
Let the troops, garlanded with verdant boughs,
Receive their comrades with a joyous welcome.
Be the whole town arrayed in festive pomp,
And let the bells with joyous peal, proclaim
That France and Burgundy are reconciled.
[A PAGE enters. Trumpets sound.
Hark! What importeth that loud trumpet's call?
PAGE.
The Duke of Burgundy hath stayed his march.
[Exit.
DUNOIS.
Up! forth to meet him!
[Exit with LA HIRE and CHATILLON.
CHARLES (to SOREL).
My Agnes! thou dost weep! Even my strength
Doth almost fail me at this interview.
How many victims have been doomed to fall
Ere we could meet in peace and reconcilement!
But every storm at length suspends its rage,
Day follows on the murkiest night; and still
When comes the hour, the latest fruits mature!
ARCHBISHOP (at the window).
The thronging crowds impede the duke's advance;
He scarce can free himself. They lift him now
From off his horse; they kiss his spurs, his mantle.
CHARLES.
They're a good people, in whom love flames forth
As suddenly as wrath. In how brief space
They do forget that 'tis this very duke
Who slew, in fight, their fathers and their sons;
The moment swallows up the whole of life!
Be tranquil, Sorel. E'en thy passionate joy
Perchance might to his conscience prove a thorn.
Nothing should either shame or grieve him here.