The stars of human glory are cast down.
Perish the roses and the flowers of kings,
Princes and emperors, and the crown and palms
Of all the mighty, wither’d and consumed!
Nor is power given to lowliest innocence
Long to protect her own.” Wordsworth.
Scene—Prison of the Luxembourg in Paris, during the Reign of Terror.
D’Aubigné, an aged Royalist—Blanche, his daughter, a young girl.
Blanche. What was your doom, my father? In thine arms
I lay unconsciously through that dread hour.