REGISTRAR (saluting the prisoners).
The royal councilor of the Great Chamber
Is close at hand.
[Salutes them again and exits.
SAVERNY.
'Tis well! [Laughing.
Annoying luck!
Twenty years old—September—and to die
Before October!
DIDIER (motionless at front of stage, holding the portrait in his hand, and as if absorbed in a deep study of it).
Come, look at me well!
Eyes in my eyes: thus. You are beautiful!
What radiant grace! Hardly a woman, you!
No: much more like an angel. God Himself
When He formed that divinely honest look
Put much fire in it but more chastity.
That childish mouth, pushed open by sweet hopes,
Throbs with its innocence.
[Throwing the portrait violently to the ground.
SAVERNY (returning from back of court).
The swallows fly quite low;
'Twill rain to-night.