University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter Huguet—De Mauprat, in complete armour, his vizor down.
(The moonlight obscured at the casement.)
HUGUET.
Not here!

DE MAUPRAT.
Oh, I will find him, fear not. Hence, and guard
The galleries where the menials sleep—plant sentries
At every outlet—Chance should throw no shadow
Between the vengeance and the victim! Go!—
Ere yon brief vapour that obscures the moon,
As doth our deed pale conscience, pass away,
The mighty shall be ashes.

HUGUET.
Will you not
A second arm?

DE MAUPRAT.
To slay one weak old man?—
Away! No lesser wrongs than mine can make
This murder lawful.—Hence!

HUGUET.
A short farewell!
[Exit Huguet.

Re-enter Richelieu (not perceiving De Mauprat).
RICHELIEU.
How heavy is the air!—the vestal lamp
Of the sad Moon, weary with vigil, dies
In the still temple of the solemn heaven!
The very darkness lends itself to fear—
To treason—

DE MAUPRAT.
And to death!

RICHELIEU.
My omens lied not!
What art thou, wretch?

DE MAUPRAT.
Thy doomsman!

RICHELIEU.
Ho, my guards!
Huguet! Montbrassil! Vermont!

DE MAUPRAT.
Ay, thy spirits
Forsake thee, wizard; thy bold men of mail
Are my confederates. Stir not! but one step,
And know the next—thy grave!

RICHELIEU.
Thou liest, knave!
I am old, infirm—most feeble—but thou liest!
Armand de Richelieu dies not by the hand
Of man—the stars have said it —and the voice
Of my own prophet and oracular soul
Confirms the shining Sibyls! Call them all—
Thy brother butchers! Earth has no such fiend—
No! as one parricide of his father-land,
Who dares in Richelieu murder France!

DE MAUPRAT.
Thy stars
Deceive thee, Cardinal; thy soul of wiles
May against kings and armaments avail,
And mock the embattled world; but powerless now
Against the sword of one resolved man,
Upon whose forehead thou hast written shame!

RICHELIEU.
I breathe;—he is not a hireling. Have I wronged thee?
Beware surmise—suspicion—lies! I am
Too great for men to speak the truth of me!

DE MAUPRAT.
Thy acts are thy accusers, Cardinal!
In his hot youth, a soldier, urged to crime
Against the State, placed in your hands his life;—
You did not strike the blow—but, o'er his head,
Upon the gossamer thread of your caprice,
Hovered the axe.—His the brave spirit's hell,
The twilight terror of suspense;—your death
Had set him free:—he purposed not, nor prayed it.
One day you summoned—mocked him with smooth pardon—
Showered wealth upon him—bade an Angel's face
Turn Earth to Paradise—

RICHELIEU.
Well!

DE MAUPRAT.
Was this mercy?
A Cæsar's generous vengeance?—Cardinal, no!
Judas, not Cæsar, was the model! You
Saved him from death for shame; reserved to grow
The scorn of living men—to his dead sires
Leprous reproach—scoff of the age to come—
A kind convenience—a Sir Pandarus
To his own bride, and the august adulterer!
Then did the first great law of human hearts,
Which with the patriot's, not the rebel's, name
Crowned the first Brutus, when the Tarquin fell,
Make Misery royal—raise this desperate wretch
Into thy destiny! Expect no mercy!
Behold De Mauprat!

(Lifts his vizor.)
RICHELIEU.
To thy knees, and crawl
For pardon; or, I tell thee, thou shalt live
For such remorse, that, did I hate thee, I
Would bid thee strike, that I might be avenged!—
It was to save my Julie from the King,
That in thy valour I forgave thy crime;—
It was, when thou—the rash and ready tool—
Yea, of that shame thou loath'st—did'st leave thy hearth
To the polluter—in these arms thy bride
Found the protecting shelter thine withheld.
(Goes to the side door.)
Julie de Mauprat—Julie!
Enter Julie.
Lo! my witness!

DE MAUPRAT.
What marvel's this?—I dream! My Julie—thou!
This, thy beloved hand?

JULIE.
Henceforth all bond
Between us twain is broken. Were it not
For this old man, I might, in truth, have lost
The right—now mine—to scorn thee!

RICHELIEU.
So, you hear her?

DE MAUPRAT.
Thou with some slander hast her sense infected!

JULIE.
No, Sir: he did excuse thee in despite
Of all that wears the face of truth. Thy friend—
Thy confidant—familiar—Baradas—
Himself revealed thy baseness,

DE MAUPRAT.
Baseness!

RICHELIEU.
Ay;
That thou didst court dishonour.

DE MAUPRAT.
Baradas!
Where is thy thunder, Heaven?—Duped!—snared!—undone!
Thou—thou could'st not believe him! Thou dost love me!
Love cannot feed on falsehoods!

JULIE
(aside).
Love him!—Ah!
Be still, my heart! Love you I did:—how fondly,
Woman—if women were my listeners now—
Alone could tell!—For ever fled my dream:
Farewell—all's over!

RICHELIEU.
Nay, my daughter, these
Are but the blinding mists of day-break love
Sprung from its very light, and heralding
A noon of happy summer.—Take her hand
And speak the truth, with which your heart runs over—
That this Count Judas—this Incarnate Falsehood—
Never lied more, than when he told thy Julie
That Adrien loved her not—except, indeed,
When he told Adrien, Julie could betray him.

JULIE
(embracing De Mauprat).
You love me, then!—you love me!—and they wrong'd you!

DE MAUPRAT.
Ah! could'st thou doubt it?

RICHELIEU.
Why, the very mole
Less blind than thou! Baradas loves thy wife;—
Had hoped her hand—aspired to be that cloak
To the king's will, which to thy bluntness seems
The Centaur's poisonous robe—hopes even now
To make thy corpse his footstool to thy bed!
Where was thy wit, man?—Ho! these schemes are glass!
The very sun shines through them.

DE MAUPRAT.
O, my Lord,
Can you forgive you?

RICHELIEU.
Ay, and save you!

DE MAUPRAT.
Save!—
Terrible word!—O, save thyself:—these halls
Swarm with thy foes: already for thy blood
Pants thirsty Murder!

JULIE.
Murder!

RICHELIEU.
Hush! put by
The woman. Hush! a shriek—a cry—a breath
Too loud, would startle from its horrent pause
The swooping Death! Go to the door, and listen!—
Now for escape!

DE MAUPRAT.
None—none! Their blades shall pass
This heart to thine.

RICHELIEU
(drily).
An honourable outwork,
But much too near the citadel. I think
That I can trust you now (slowly, and gazing on him)
:—yes; I can trust you.
How many of my troop league with you?

DE MAUPRAT.
All!—
We are your troop!

RICHELIEU.
And Huguet?—

DE MAUPRAT.
Is our captain.

RICHELIEU.
A retribution Power!—This comes of spies!
All? then the lion's skin too short to-night,—
Now for the fox's!—

JULIE.
A hoarse, gathering murmur!—
Hurrying and heavy footsteps!—

RICHELIEU.
Ha!—the posterns?

DE MAUPRAT.
No egress where no sentry!

RICHELIEU.
Follow me—
I have it!—to my chamber—quick! Come, Julie!
Hush! Mauprat, come!
Murmur at a distance
—Death to the Cardinal!

RICHELIEU.
Bloodhounds, I laugh at ye!—ha! ha!—we will
Baffle them yet.—Ha!—ha!

Exeunt Julie, Mauprat, Richelieu.
HUGUET
(without).
This way—this way!