The Goddess of Reason: A Drama in Five Acts
SCENE II
_The banks of the Loire. Night. Branching trees; between their trunks is seen the river. There is a full moon, but a drifting mist obscures the scene. In the background, upon the river bank, dimly appears a crowd of the condemned, men, women, and children, soldiers and executioners of the Company of Marat. From this throng comes a low, continued, confused sound of command, entreaty, distress, and lamentation. In the foreground the condemned form into groups or move singly to and fro._
_Enter_ YVETTE _from the shadow of the trees_.
A SOLDIER (_following her_)
Holà! Give us not the slip!
YVETTE
Thou soldier! There is no gold could make me flee this place! How long dost think before they throw me in?
THE SOLDIER
A little while!
[_He returns to the river._ YVETTE _sits upon the earth at the foot of a tree, and with her chin upon her hand watches those who come and go_.
YVETTE
He comes not yet! O Our Lady! I would not drown till I have seen him once!
A WOMAN (_passing with a man_)
How shines the moon! Did we not always say, We two would die by such a moon as this? Rememberest thou—
THE MAN
Rememberest thou that night, That Versailles night within the Orangerie?
THE WOMAN
Rememberest thou—
[_They pass._
A SOLDIER (_calling to another_)
To bind them hand and foot, We need more rope!
THE SECOND SOLDIER
Just thrust them in the stream With bayonets!
A CRY FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
[_A child with flowers in her hand speaks to_ YVETTE.
THE CHILD
I’m tired—
YVETTE
Rest here, thou little bird!
THE CHILD
My name’s Aimée. I did not know that flowers grew at night. Is that the moon?
YVETTE
It is the silver moon! Aimée’s a pretty name. My name’s Yvette.
THE CHILD
Kiss me, Yvette—I’ll look now for Ursule!
YVETTE
Who is Ursule?
THE CHILD
My _bonne_—Adieu, Yvette!
[_The child passes on._
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Hélas! Hélas! Miséricorde!
[_A nun advances from the shadow. She is in ecstasy, her hands clasped, her eyes raised._
THE NUN
The skies open: heaven appears! Heaven my home! O for the wings of the dove, The eagle’s speed! The gates of pearl are opening, My harp is strung. The Virgins come to meet me. Sainte Agnès, Sainte Claire! Our Lady stoops to greet me. My father smiles. My brothers two I see there! Who is that one Who kneels and to me beckons? ‘Tis he I loved! What radiance grows, what splendour? Who waiting stands? Light! O Light! O Christ my Lord! Heaven my home! O Love! O Death, come quickly! I would be gone!
[_A soldier touches her on the arm._
THE SOLDIER
Thy time it is!
[_The nun regards him with a radiant and dazzling smile, then turns and moves swiftly before him to the river._
THE VOICES
Woe, woe! Miséricorde!
YVETTE
Heaven my home! Shall I see heaven then? Oh me! so much of ill thou’st done, Yvette! Alas! Alas! What if I cannot win To heaven! but must ever weeping stand With all the lost and strain my eyes to see The form I love move ‘neath the living trees, And all in vain, so great the distance is!— Not see him! O Our Lady, let me in!
THE VOICES
Woe, woe!—I die!—I die!—O countrymen!
YVETTE
O God, and is it true I murdered her, That lady high, that fair, so fair Clarice? O God! I would that she were happy here, Alive and laughing, gay of heart again! O God! I do repent me of my sin!
THE VOICES
Ayez pitié!
[_From a group of the condemned is heard the voice of_ THE ABBÉ.
THE ABBÉ
_Miserere mei Deus Secundum magnam misericordiam tuam!_
THE CONDEMNED (_kneeling_)
Have mercy, O God!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
[YVETTE _kneels_.
THE ABBÉ
_In manus tuas Domine commendo spiritum meum, Redemisti me Domine Deus veritatis!_
THE CONDEMNED
O God, receive our souls!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Woe, woe! We die!
SOLDIERS
That one is swimming there! Your musket! Fire!—
[_A musket shot._
Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
THE ABBÉ
_Dulcissime Domine Jesu Christe, Per virtutem sanctissimae Passionis tuae Recipe me in numerum electorum tuorum!_
THE CONDEMNED
O Christ, receive our souls! O Christ who died!
THE ABBÉ
_Maria, Mater gratiae, Mater misercordiae, Tu me ab hoste protege, et hora mortis suscipe!_
THE CONDEMNED
O mother of God!
VOICES
Miséricorde!
THE ABBÉ
_Omnes sancti Angeli, et omnes Sancti Intercedite pro me, et mihi succurrite!_
VOICES
Miséricorde!
SOLDIERS
Petit-Pierre!—André! ‘Tis time for yonder folk beneath the trees!
THE ABBÉ
_Ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis, In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen!_
[_The condemned arise from their knees._
THE SOLDIERS
Come your ways!
[THE ABBÉ _and the condemned vanish into the mist upon the river bank_.
VOICES
Ayez pitié!
[YVETTE _rises from her knees. She plucks the yellow broom that grows beneath the trees._
YVETTE
And if I may I will her servant be, And I will bring her posies every day!
THE VOICES
We die!
SOLDIERS
So, two and two! Ha, ha!
[_There appears in mid-stream on the river Carrier’s festal barge. It is lit from stem to stern. There is music aboard, singing and revelry of men and women._
LAUGHTER FROM THE RIVER
Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
THE VOICES
They laugh! They sing!
[_A sound of singing from the passing barge._
A WOMAN’S VOICE
_Fair Chloris bathed her in the flood, Young Damon watching, trembling stood, Behind the frailest hawthorn wall! The month was May—_
A MAN’S VOICE
No, Prairial!
THE WOMAN’S VOICE
_Her ivory limbs they gleamed and turned, Young Damon’s heart so hotly burned, Into the stream he leaped therefor! It seemed July—_
THE MAN’S VOICE
No, Thermidor!
[_The barge passes._
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
O hearts so hard!
OTHER VOICES
Oh, woe! Adieu! Adieu!
[_An old woman speaks to_ YVETTE.
THE OLD WOMAN
They’ve drowned my son, my sailor son Michel! Oh, oh, my heart! he’s drifting out to sea!
YVETTE
Poor mother!
THE OLD WOMAN
Oh, to and fro he sailed, he sailed! The Indies knew him and the Northern Seas! He’d bide at home a bit, then off he’d go, Another voyage make, strange things to see! Then home he’d come and of his travels tell. Oh, oh, my son, my sailor son Michel!
[_The old woman passes on._
_Enter_ SÉRAPHINE.
SÉRAPHINE
I’ve sought her here, I’ve sought her there, in vain! And perilous it is to seek one here!
YVETTE
Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
Yvette!
YVETTE
Where is monseigneur?
SÉRAPHINE (_weeping_)
I know not, I!—Saint Lazaire and Saint Jean! I nursed thee ere thou wast so high!
YVETTE
Poor Séraphine! Dear Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
Alack! They’re watching there!
YVETTE
Oh, then away! ‘Tis death to weep for one who dies! Away!
SÉRAPHINE (_weeping_)
Oh, oh! When thou wast but a little thing Thou hadst the coaxing ways! Alack! Alack!
YVETTE
Poor Séraphine!
SÉRAPHINE
Dost mind the sunny path Up the steep cliff to chapel in the woods?
YVETTE
I mind—I mind—To thy warm hand I clung, A little child. Now I must walk alone!
SÉRAPHINE
Oh, oh! And thou wast Goddess yesterday, The fairest Goddess ever seen, they say!
YVETTE
Speak not of that!
A VOICE (_calling_)
Séraphine! Séraphine!
YVETTE
It warns, that voice! Adieu, adieu, adieu! Thou must begone!
SÉRAPHINE
If I do look at thee I’ll stay forever here! Adieu! Adieu!— Oh well-a-day! Oh well, oh well-a-day!
[_Exit_ SÉRAPHINE.
YVETTE
So late it grows, so long I’ve waited here! I feel the morning air!—Will he not come? O God! what if they’ve slain him otherwhere? Ha! Death is busy far and near to-night! They may have shot him yonder by the sea! He may have sunk above, below this place! Though Grégoire swore to me it would be here, Here where they brought me would they bring him too, And ere the set of moon we would be gone!— O God! The cries of drowning men I’ve heard, But not his voice among them! No, no, no! He’ll make no moan, he will die loftily!— Ah, God! only to see him ere I drown!
THE VOICES
Miséricorde!
SOLDIERS
Prenez garde! Halte là!
A MAN’S VOICE
I die who fought for France in bloody fields; At Lille I fought, at Bordeaux, Avignon!
YVETTE
A soldier!
[_Another voice sings hoarsely._
THE VOICE
_Tremblez, tyrans! et vous perfides, L’opprobre de tous les partis! Tremblez, vos projets parricides Viennent enfin recevoir leur prix! Tout est soldat pour vous combattre—_
[_The voice dies._
YVETTE
A soldier!
ANOTHER VOICE
Diantre! A whiff of grapeshot now, A sabre-cut, or e’en a trampling charge! But this cold death—
[_The voice dies._
YVETTE
A soldier!
ANOTHER VOICE
Baste! I’ll tell The Duc de Biron—
YVETTE
All soldiers!
_Enter_ DE VARDES _and_ GRÉGOIRE.
GRÉGOIRE
I tell you truth, monsieur—
DE VARDES
So dense the throng I have looked up and down for this long hour,— This hour so long, this hour so fatal short, Seeing it is my latest hour of life, And that I cannot find her whom I seek!
GRÉGOIRE
She is not dead, monsieur!
DE VARDES
So many are!
GRÉGOIRE
I would have known.
DE VARDES
Some æons past thou wast A serviceable fellow! Get thee gone! And if thou findest her, I’ll give thee thanks, I have no gold—
GRÉGOIRE
Monsieur le Baron—
DE VARDES
Go!
[_Exit_ GRÉGOIRE.
And if I find her not, if time shall fail, Then through thy labyrinth, Eternity, Love’s silken clue shall lead me safe at last—
YVETTE
Monseigneur!
[DE VARDES _turns_.
DE VARDES
Yvette!
[_Two soldiers of the Company of Marat pass beneath the trees._
THE FIRST SOLDIER
‘Tis near the cockcrow! What devil’s work we’ve had, and have!
THE SECOND SOLDIER
Courage! There are not so many now! Then home and sleep!
[_They pass._
DE VARDES
Oh, rest thee on thy lover’s breast, my heart! My life, my love, my dear, my Duchess Jeanne! Oh, ‘neath the moon thou’rt like a lily flower!
YVETTE
René, René!
DE VARDES
Thy lips!
[_They kiss._
No, no, thou’rt not That Vivien whom I did call thee once. She was an evil fay; thou’rt pure and good! Nor art thou that fair piteous Duchess Jeanne Who died for love, whose look thou wearest now! Thou never wast that woman star-begirt, Whom they did hail as Goddess here in Nantes. No Goddess thou, thou wan and broken flower!— This is green Morbec, thou’rt the herd girl there And I thy fisher, home from out the west. My heart, my love, my silver rose, my _douce_!
YVETTE
The flowers drifting from the fragrant trees! Unearthly light—
[_They kiss._
DE VARDES
Now come, Eternity!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
It is so sad to die!—No, no, ‘tis sweet! Adieu, adieu!
SOLDIERS
So, down! Ha, ha! _Les Noces Républicaines!_
DE VARDES
_Les Noces Républicaines!_
YVETTE
‘Tis what they call this death—
SOLDIERS
So near the dawn! Here are the _tricoteuses_.
VOICES OF WOMEN
Not yet they’ve done! Diantre! So many weddings in one night! Here are the girls from Carrier’s barge at last!
OTHER VOICES
Petit-Pierre! André!
SOLDIERS
Céleste—Nanon! Zephine, ‘Toinette!
THE WOMEN
_Vive le son! vive le son! Dansons la Carmagnole!_
A TRICOTEUSE
‘Tis light enough to knit! I’ll sit me down. Fi! how the grass is trampled here!
A SOLDIER
Lalain and Lambertye—
A WOMAN
We left them there Upon the barge, Lalain and Lambertye; And they were drinking deep, and dicing too, And Lalain had his arm round Angélique!
[_They laugh._
DE VARDES
Seest thou not through yonder trees the stone, The Druid Stone where I did see thee first When thou didst lie asleep upon the grass? How long I stood and looked, thou dost not know!
YVETTE
Beside the stream I slept and dreamed of thee! I knew it not, but sure I dreamed of thee, For in my sleep I thought I saw a king!
DE VARDES
O love!—
YVETTE
It is Morbec arises there! The sands that stretch above the idle waves, And all the little shells upon the shore!
DE VARDES
The convent bell is ringing! Seest thou not The fountain old, the fruit trees in the sun?
YVETTE
Oh, life was never made for happiness! The hour’s too short, the wine spills from the cup, The blossom’s shaken ere we know ‘tis sweet!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
A SOLDIER
Those two have waited long! Hi! Petit-Pierre, ‘tis time to marry them—
DE VARDES
This Saint John’s Eve we’ll walk in other woods! And we will find and name a castle fair, And rose and heartsease we will plant thereby! Here ends this road, but we must onward go. There is a longer hour, a deeper cup! The blossom’s gone, but we shall see the fruit. And life was made for happiness, my _douce_!
A VOICE FROM THE RIVER
_Mourir pour la patrie, Mourir pour la France._
DE VARDES
It is a hymn of Chénier’s.—France! France! Not since the days of Clovis hast thou lacked Strong sons to die for thee, thou Lioness! But now thy own brood hast thou eaten up, And in the desert shalt thou roar alone, Seeing the hunters nearer, nearer creep! They’ll snare thee fast, they’ll make of thee a show! France, France!—and yet thy sons shall ransom thee!
A SOLDIER
A length of rope, André!
ANOTHER
Petit-Pierre—
YVETTE
They come!
DE VARDES
I will go first.
YVETTE
‘Tis not their way! They’ll bind us fast together, throw us in Bound fast together—
DE VARDES
Is it so? Why, then We are together still, my heart, my life! We will not struggle as we sink to rest.
A SOLDIER
Man and woman, come your ways!
SECOND SOLDIER
The river Waits, your marriage bed is spread!
[_The knitting women sing from the river bank._
THE WOMEN
_We are the tricoteuses! Our wool we knit beneath the sun and moon! Knit! knit! knitting every one!_
_We are the tricoteuses! The skein we knit is ravelled out full soon! Knit! knit! the knitting now is done!_
YVETTE
The light is growing in the east! My heart It is so full I cannot speak to thee!
DE VARDES
Put thou thine arms about my neck, Yvette, And lay thy head upon thy lover’s heart, And veil thine eyes with all thy shadowy hair. Now let them bind us with what cords they will, The spirit moves unbound, triumphant, free, Not through the Loire, but through a vaster stream! Oh, it is something dimly great to die! And then to die together, is’t not sweet? And not through illness, age, decrepitude, But the armed man is ready for new wars. And thou—
YVETTE
I hear the lark!
A SOLDIER
Come, come away!
[YVETTE _and_ DE VARDES _move together towards the river, into the mist and the shadow of the trees_.
A VOICE FROM THE RIVER
_Vive la République!_
_CURTAIN_
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Transcriber’s note:
1. Moved advertisement from first page to the last page.
2. Silently corrected typographical errors.
3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.