 | St. Clement's Eve |  |
Scene III.
—The Rue Barbette, near the Porch of the Chapel of the Celestines. Raoul de Rouvroy, Ranulph de Roche-Baron, Henri de Fontenay, Antoine des Essars, and Charles de Savoisy, all armed.De Fontenay.
What if she screams?
De Rouvroy.
Tell her the night is cold,
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De Fontenay.
What if the Sisterhood scream all together?
De Rouvroy.
Run for your lives; but if you're deft and swift
The Sisters will have pass'd within the walls
Ere you shall scare them. Pupilage walks last.
De Savoisy.
But say the night-patrol should come this way.
De Rouvroy.
Then shall some two or three of you fall back
And seem to fight; be desperate and loud,
And whilst the watch is busy with your brawl,
Montargis and his maid will mount and fly.
If need be, set a house or two on fire,
And shout amain for help.
Enter Montargis from the Chapel.
Montargis.
Down with your vizors.
God's curse upon that Priest and his discourse!
When tenthly came, and twelfthly, and fifteenthly,
I could have stabb'd him. Strangers too were there,
Pilgrims—what not? who may be meddlesome
Unless discretion guide them. If they be
They'll rue it. Ranulph, are the by-ways void?
No stragglers?
Des Essars.
Right, Montargis; say a cat's grace
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Montargis.
Back, back, I say; stand back; I think they come.
Enter from the Chapel the Nuns, preceded by the Priests and followed by the Novices and Pupils, after whom the Duke of Orleans, Henri de Vierzon, René d'Aicelin, Enguerrand de Chevreuse, Loré de Cassinel, and Alain Thibaut, in Pilgrim's weeds. The Priests and Nuns pass through the gates into the court of the Convent, whereupon Montargis advances.
Montargis.
My lady-love, you enter not; be wise;
Despairing love dares all; you must be mine,
And mine you are.
Iolande.
Yours! Wretch beyond all count
The loathsomest that I know, I know you well,
And hate you and defy you.
Montargis.
Nay, wild bird,
We'll teach you sweeter singing.
Iolande.
Touch not me!
Montargis.
With softer touches shall I touch you soon;
These rougher for this present you must brook.
Orleans.
First turn and touch another.
Montargis.
Who art thou
That hold'st thy life so lightly? Beggar, back!
Get hence! or if thou hungerest after death
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Orleans.
There is my foot.
Montargis.
And there thy death.
Orleans.
Well aim'd against well arm'd.
Now, thy best ward.
They fight. The other Burgundians come to the aid of Montargis, and are engaged by the Orleanists; Montargis is wounded and disarmed.
Orleans.
So! yield thee, Bastard.
Montargis.
Ha! thou know'st me? Well;
If to a Knight I yield.
Orleans.
A Knight and more.
Montargis.
Say'st thou “and more?”
Orleans.
More, by St. Paul!
Montargis.
My Lord,
That voice and oath chiming together thus
Tell forth your title to respect. I yield.
My friends, put up your swords. My own lies there.
We will withdraw, if so the victor wills.
Orleans.
Go, and be wiser. Keep your council. I,
For his sake who befriends, will not betray you.
[Exeunt Montargis and his friends.
Orleans.
Unbar the gate.
De Vierzon.
'Tis fast within. Holla!
Within there! Ho! Unbolt the gate.
The Porter
(within).
Get hence,
Ye graceless knaves, get hence!
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Unbolt the gate;
Here is a maiden of your House has swoon'd.
The Porter.
So has the general Sisterhood. Get hence,
Lewd villains that ye are!
De Vierzon.
Out, Thickskull, out!
Orleans
(supporting Iolande).
Frighten'd to death I hastily had thought,
But ne'er did womanish fear put on a face
Of such celestial sovereignty as this.
Rather the motions of the bodily life
O'ermaster'd by the passion of her scorn.
Open that gate.
De Vierzon.
'Tis easily said, my Lord;
But here's a Lackbrain keeps it barr'd.
Orleans.
Then stave it.
How fare you, Lady?
Iolande.
Well, I thank you, well;
Though dumb when fain a grateful heart would speak
As with a thousand tongues, and fill the world
With thanks and praise; but there is God to aid,
Who pays all dues.
Orleans.
Sweet Lady, when God grants
That praise from such a mouth ennobles me,
He showers His choicest blessing. They within
Must pardon us some violence, for else,
Through error of their fear, this sturdy gate
Should have repulsed its own.
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Brave Sirs, farewell!
And though 'tis little that poor Nuns can do
To show their sense of service, there is one
As great in power as heart, the princely Duke
Our founder, who will value at its worth
A service to the Celestines.
Orleans.
My friends,
I wish you joy; and with this lady's leave
I'll wait on her to-morrow, so to learn
What guerdon you may look for.
Iolande.
Heartily
The Lady Abbess and myself will strive
To do you grace and honour. Pray you, Sirs,
Stay by the gate till I shall cross the court,
For all have fled indoors and it is void.
[Exit.
Orleans.
Now to our beds. Sirs, what she said I swear;
A service to the Celestines I prize
At a knight's fee to each. To bed, to bed,
To dream of such a voice as in my ears
Sounds like a Seraph's in a song of praise.
Enter the Watch.
Sergeant of the Watch.
Haro! Haro! What's here! Stand, villains, stand!
Clashings of swords and screamings for the Watch!
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De Vierzon.
Off! laggards, we were keepers of the law,
Not breakers; we but filled a gap for you.
We fought with certain caitiffs who were fain
To ravish hence a maid; we rescued her;
For them, they slank away.
Sergeant.
Fie! tell not me!
We'll have no ravishings nor no rescues here;
No ravishings nor rescues can be suffer'd
After the Watch is set. To the guard-house, come.
If maidens shall be ravish'd and be rescued
It is the Watch must do it. Come, ye rogues.
De Vierzon.
Stand off, old Owlet.
The Sergeant.
What! the manacles! Ho!
D' Aicelin.
Away, ye Clot-pole-catchpoles! Hence, away!
[The Duke and his friends drive out the Watch.
| St. Clement's Eve | |