University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Interior of a Convent Chapel; a lofty Crucifix in the centre of the aisle, before which kneels Mademoiselle de la Vallière; Night—Thunder and Lightning, the latter made visible through the long oriel windows.
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE
(rising.)
Darkly the night sweeps on. No thought of sleep
Steals to my heart. What sleep is to the world
Prayer is to me—life's balm, and grief's oblivion!
Yet, ev'n before the altar of my God,
Unhallowed fire is raging through my veins—
Heav'n on my lips, but earth within my heart—
And while I pray his memory prompts the prayer,
And all I ask of Heaven is—‘Guard my Louis!’
Forget him—that I dare not pray! I would not
Ev'n if I could, be happy, and forget him!
[Thunder.
Roll on, roll on, dark chariot of the storm.
Whose wheels are thunder!—the rack'd elements
Can furnish forth no tempest like the war
Of passions in one weak and erring heart!
[The bell tolls one.
Hark to night's funeral knell! How through the roar
Of winds and thunder thrills that single sound,
Solemnly audible!—the tongue of time,
In time's most desolate hour!—it bids us muse
On worlds which love can reach not! Life runs fast
To its last sands! To bed, to bed!—to tears
And wishes for the grave!—to bed, to bed!

[A trumpet is heard without.
Two or three Nuns hurry across the stage.
FIRST NUN.
Most strange!

SECOND NUN.
In such a night, too! The great gates,
That ne'er unclose save to a royal guest,
Unbarred!

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIERE.
What fear, what hope, by turns distracts me!

[The trumpet sounds again.
FIRST NUN.
Hark! in the court, the ring of hoofs!—the door
Creaks on the sullen hinge!

LAUZUN
(without.)
Make way!—the King!

Enter Louis and Lauzun.
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE
(rushing forward.)
Oh, Louis!—oh, belov'd! (Then pausing abruptly.)
No, touch me not!
Leave me! in pity leave me! Heavenly Father,
I fly to thee! Protect me from his arms—
Protect me from myself!

[Sinks at the foot of the crucifix.
LOUIS.
Oh bliss!—Louise!

Enter Abbess and other Nuns.
ABBESS.
Peace, peace! What clamour desecrates the shrine
And solitudes of God?

LAUZUN.
Madam, your knee—
The King!

ABBESS.
The King!—you mock me, sir!

LOUIS
(quitting Mademoiselle de la Vallière.)
Behold
Your Sovereign, reverend Mother! We have come
To thank you for your shelter of this lady,
And to reclaim our charge.

ABBESS.
My Liege, these walls
Are sacred even from the purple robe
And sceptred hand.

LOUIS.
She hath not ta'en the vow!
She's free!—we claim her!—she is of our court!
Woman,—go to!

ABBESS.
The maiden, Sire, is free!
Your royal lips have said it!—She is free!
And if this shrine her choice, whoe'er compels her
Forth from the refuge, doth incur the curse
The Roman Church awards to even Kings!
Speak, lady!—dost thou claim against the court
The asylum of the cloister?

LOUIS.
Darest thou brave us?

LAUZUN
(aside to Louis.)
Pardon, my Liege!—reflect! Let not the world
Say that the king—

LOUIS.
Can break his bonds!—Away!
I was a man before I was a king!
(Approaching Mademoiselle de la Vallière.)
Lady, we do command your presence! (Lowering his voice.)
Sweet!
Adored Louise!—if ever to your ear
My whispers spoke in music—if my life
Be worth the saving, do not now desert me!

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE
(clinging to the crucifix.)
Let me not hear him, Heaven!—Strike all my senses!
Make—make me dumb, deaf, blind,—but keep me honest!

ABBESS.
Sire, you have heard her answer!

LOUIS
(advancing passionately, pauses, and then with great dignity.)
Abbess, no!
This lady was entrusted to our charge—
A fatherless child!—The King is now her father!
Madam, we would not wrong you; but we know
That sometimes most unhallowed motives wake
Your zeal for converts!—This young maid is wealthy,
And nobly born!—Such proselytes may make
A convent's pride, but oft a convent's victims!
No more!—we claim the right the law awards us,
Free and alone to commune with this maiden.
If then her choice go with you—be it so;
We are no tyrant! Peace!—retire!

ABBESS.
My Liege!
Forgive—

LOUIS.
We do!—Retire!

(Lauzun, the Abbess, &c., withdraw.)
LOUIS.
We are alone!

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Alone!—No! God is present, and the conscience!

LOUIS.
Ah! fear'st thou, then, that heart that would resign
Ev'n love itself to guard one pang from thee?

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE
(rising, but still with one arm clinging to the crucifix.)
I must speak!—Sire, if every drop of blood
Were in itself a life, I'd shed them all
For one hour's joy to thee!—But fame and virtue—
My father's grave—my mother's lonely age—
These, these—
(Thunder.)
I hear their voice!—the fires of Heaven
Seem to me like the eyes of angels, and
Warn me against myself!—Farewell!

LOUIS.
Louise,
I will not hear thee! What! farewell? that word
Sounds like a knell to all that's worth the living!
Farewell! why, then, farewell all peace to Louis
And the poor King is once more but a thing
Of state and forms. The impulse and the passion—
The blessed air of happy human life—
The all that made him envy not his subjects
Dies in that word! Ah, canst thou—dar'st thou say it?

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Oh, speak not thus!—Speak harshly!—threat: command!—
Be all the King!

LOUIS.
The King! he kneels to thee!

[Lightning.
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Not there!—not at the cross!—the angry lightning,
See how it darts around!—not there!

LOUIS
(passing his arm round her.)
So ever
Would this heart guard thine own!

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
In mercy leave me!
I'm weak—be generous! My own soul betrays me;
But thou betray me not!

LOUIS.
Nay, hear me, sweet one!—
Desert me not this once, and I will swear
To know no guiltier wish—to curb my heart—
To banish hope from love—and nurse no dream
Thy spotless soul itself shall blush to cherish?
Hear me, Louise—thou lov'st me?

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Love thee, Louis!

LOUIS.
Thou lov'st me,—then confide! Who loves, trusts ever!

(Mademoiselle de la Vallière has insensibly let go her hold of the cross, and now placing her hand on his arm, looks him in the face.)
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Trust thee!—ah! dare I?

LOUIS
(clasping her in his arms.)
Ay, till death! What ho!
Lauzun! I say!

Enter Lauzun.
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.
(Endeavouring again to cling to the cross.)
No, no!

LOUIS.
Not trust me, dearest?

(She falls on his shoulder—the Abbess and Nuns advance.)
ABBESS.
Still firm!

LAUZUN.
No, Madam!—Way, there, for the King!