University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV

The Château of La Motte-Feuilly in France.
A balcony hung with black—below it are forest-trees, some in full leaf, others creeping into green. Solemn masses of wild hyacinths clump up against the castle walls.
The Duchess Charlotte de Valentinois in deep black stands in the balcony, a purple purse laid beside her.
CHARLOTTE.
My sables
Hang heavy on the spring; and I myself
Have known a bliss struck cold, a pleasure
So terrible ... he, who attracts such joy
And overcomes such hate,
Is puissant as an infinite lost god ....
The leaves
Are very soft and green and masterful ....
The peasant-folk approach, the humble poor
They say he gave his voice in softness to
Who brought old kings to murmur round his urn,
Rebellious that it held him.
[Some Peasants come through the trees.
O good people,
Pray for Lord César—for his soul!
[She gives alms from the purple purse and they pass out.
They pray,
They will go home and pray:
I love to watch them homeward, simple folk,
With hunger I can feed.
[She leans forward, supporting her arms on the balcony.
I cannot pray: my Aves
And all the beads of all my rosary,
Would be for access to him, for his favour.
They will pray,
And bring him peace far from me. But to me
It is the many leaves bring peace, the forest,
The wrapping and the murmur of the wind;
For when I wake at night, wake in my forest,
I am glad to wake: I hear the accusation
Of the great Kings they carved about his tomb,
Who pass around it, weeping—Saul and David
And Solomon, the Scripture Kings, all lost
And wandering as ghosts and desolate,
With cry to the four royal winds, to Heaven,
And to the swerving roll of the great forest,
That César has no crown ....
[A Nurse passes under the balcony leading a young child.
...No crown, no race—I have not borne a son.

[She bows her face over her arms.