 | The Duchess de la Vallière |  |
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ACT III.
SCENE I.
An Ante-Chamber in the Palace of Madame la Duchesse de la Vallière at Versailles.Enter Lauzun and Madame de Montespan, at opposite doors.
LAUZUN.
Ha! my fair friend, well met!—how fares Athenè?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Weary with too much gaiety! Now, tell me,
Do you ne'er tire of splendor? Does this round
Of gaudy pomps—this glare of glitt'ring nothings—
Does it ne'er pall upon you? To my eyes
'Tis as the earth would be if turfed with scarlet,
Without one spot of green.
LAUZUN.
We all feel thus
Until we are used to it. Art has grown my nature,
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I cry ‘how artificial!’ With me, ‘Nature’
Is ‘Paris and Versailles.’ The word, ‘a man,’
Means something noble, that one sees at court.
Woman's the thing Heaven made for wearing trinkets
And talking scandal. That's my state of nature!
You'll like it soon; you have that temper which
Makes courts its element.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
And how?—define, Sir.
LAUZUN.
First, then—but shall I not offend?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Be candid.
I'd know my faults, to make them look like virtues.
LAUZUN.
First, then, Athenè, you've an outward frankness.
Deceit in you looks honester than truth.
Thoughts, at a court, like faces on the stage,
Require some rouge. You rouge your thoughts so well
That one would deem their only fault, that nature
Gave them too bright a bloom!
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Proceed!
LAUZUN.
Your wit,
Is of the true court breed—it plays with nothings;
Just bright enough to warm, but never burn—
Excites the dull, but ne'er offends the vain.
You have much energy; it looks like feeling!
Your cold ambition seems an easy impulse;
Your head most ably counterfeits the heart,
But never, like the heart, betrays itself!
Oh! you'll succeed at court!—you see I know you!
Not so this new-made Duchess—young La Vallière.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
The weak, fond, fool!
LAUZUN.
Yes, weak—she has a heart;
Yet you, too, love the King!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
And she does not!
She loves but Louis—I but love the King:
Pomp, riches, state, and power—these who would love not?
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Bravo! well said!—Oh, you'll succeed at court!
I knew it well! it was for this I chose you—
Induced your sapient lord to waste no more
Your beauty in the shade—for this prepared
The Duchess to receive you to her bosom,
Her dearest friend; for this have duly fed
The King's ear with your praise, and cleared your way
To rule a sovereign and to share a throne.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
I know thou hast been my architect of power;
And, when the pile is built—
LAUZUN
(with a smile.)
Could still o'erthrow it,
If thou couldst play the ingrate!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
I!—nay!
LAUZUN.
Hear me!
Each must have need of each. Long live the King!
Still let his temples ache beneath the crown.
But all that kings can give—wealth, rank, and power—
Must be for us—the King's friend and his favourite.
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But is it easy to supplant the Duchess?
All love La Vallière! Her meek nature shrinks
Ev'n from our homage; and she wears her state
As if she pray'd the world to pardon greatness.
LAUZUN.
And thus destroys herself! At court, Athenè,
Vice, to win followers, takes the front of virtue,
And looks the dull plebeian things called moral
To scorn, until they blush to be unlike her.
Why is De Lauzun not her friend? Why plotting
For a new rival? Why?—Because De Lauzun
Wins not the power he looked for from her friendship!
She keeps not old friends!—and she makes no new ones!
For who would be a friend to one who deems it
A crime to ask his Majesty a favour?
‘Friends’ is a phrase at Court that means Promotion!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Her folly, I confess, would not be mine.
But, grant her faults—the King still loves the Duchess!
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Since none are by, I'll venture on a treason,
And say, the King's a man!—and men will change!
I have his ear, and you shall win his eye.
'Gainst a new face, and an experienced courtier,
What chance hath this poor, loving, simple woman?
Besides, she has too much conscience for a king!
He likes not to look up, and feel how low,
Ev'n on the throne that overlooks the world,
His royal greatness dwarfs beside that heart
That never stooped to sin, save when it loved him!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
You're eloquent, my Lord!
LAUZUN.
Ah! of such natures
You and I know but little!— (Aside.)
This must cease,
Or I shall all disclose my real aims!
(Aloud.)
The King is with the Duchess?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Yes!
LAUZUN.
As yet
She doth suspect you not?
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Suspect!—the puppet!
No; but full oft, her head upon my bosom,
Calls me her truest friend!—invites me ever
To amuse the King with my enlivening sallies,—
And still breaks off, in sighing o'er the past,
To wish her spirit were as blithe as mine,
And fears her Louis wearies of her sadness!
LAUZUN.
So, the plot ripens!—ere the King came hither,
I had prepared his royal pride to chafe
At that sad face, whose honest sorrow wears
Reproach unconsciously! You'll learn the issue!
Now, then, farewell!—we understand each other!
[Exit Lauzun.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
And once I loved this man!—and still might love him,
But that I love ambition! Yes, my steps
Now need a guide; but once upon the height,
And I will have no partner! Thou, lord Duke,
With all thine insolent air of proud protection,
Thou shalt wait trembling on my nod, and bind
Thy fortune to my wheels! O man!—vain man!
Well sung the poet,—when this power of beauty
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Which makes the world a slave! And I will wield it!
[Exit Madame de Montespan.
SCENE II.
The Scene opens and discovers the King and the Duchess de la Vallière at chess.LOUIS.
But one move more!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Not so! I check the king!
LOUIS.
A vain attempt!—the king is too well guarded!
There,—check again! Your game is lost!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
As usual,
Ev'n from this mimic stage of war you rise
Ever the victor.
(They leave the table and advance.)
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'Twere a fairer fortune,
My own Louise, to reconcile the vanquished!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(sadly.)
My best-loved Louis!
LOUIS.
Why so sad a tone?
Nay, smile, Louise!—love thinks himself aggrieved
If care cast shadows o'er the heart it seeks
To fill with cloudless sunshine! Smile, Louise!
Ev'n unkind words were kinder than sad looks.
There—now thou glad'st me!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Yet ev'n thou, methought,
Did'st wear, this morn, a brow on which the light
Shone less serenely than its wont!
LOUIS.
This morn!
Ay, it is true!—this morn I heard that France
Hath lost a subject monarchs well might mourn!
Oh! little know the world how much a king,
Whose life is past in purchasing devotion,
Loses in one who merited all favour
And scorned to ask the least! A king, Louise,
Sees but the lackeys of mankind. The true
Lords of our race—the high chivalric hearts—
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And stand aloof, lest slaves should say they flatter!
Of such a mould was he whom France deplores.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Tell me his name, that I, with thee, may mourn him.
LOUIS.
A noble name, but a more noble bearer;
Not to be made by, but to make, a lineage.
Once, too, at Dunkirk, 'twixt me and the foe,
He thrust his gallant breast, already seared
With warrior-wounds, and his blood flowed for mine.
Dead!—his just merits all unrecompensed!—
Obscured, like sun-light, by the suppliant clouds!
He should have died a marshal! Death did wrong
To strike so soon! Alas, brave Bragelone!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Ha!—did I hear aright, my Liege—my Louis?
That name—that name!—thou saidst not ‘Bragelone?’
LOUIS.
Such was his name, not often heard at court.
Thou didst not know him? What! thou art pale! thou weepest!—
Thou art ill! Louise, look up!
[He leads her to a seat.
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Be still, O Conscience!
I did not slay him!—Died too soon! Alas!
He should have died with all his hopes unblighted,
Ere I was—what I am!
LOUIS.
What mean these words?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
How did death strike him?—what disease?
LOUIS.
I know not.
He had retired from service; and in peace
Breathed out his soul to some remoter sky!
France only guards his fame! What was he to thee
That thou shouldst weep for him?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Hast thou ne'er heard
We were betrothed in youth?
LOUIS
(agitated and aside.)
Lauzun speaks truth!
I'd not her virgin heart—she lov'd another!
(Aloud.)
Betrothed! You mourn him deeply!
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Sire, I do!
That broken heart!—I was its dream—its idol!
And with regret is mingled—what repentance!
LOUIS
(coldly.)
Repentance, Madam! Well, the word is gracious!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Pardon! oh, pardon! But the blow was sudden;
How can the heart play courtier with remorse?
LOUIS.
Remorse!—again. Why be at once all honest,
And say you love me not!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Not love you, Louis?
LOUIS.
Not if you feel repentance to have loved!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
What! think'st thou, Louis, I should love thee more
Did I love virtue less, or less regret it?
LOUIS.
I pray you truce with these heroic speeches;
They please us in romance—in life they weary.
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Louis, do I deserve this?
LOUIS.
Rather, Lady,
Do I deserve the mute reproach of sorrow?
Still less these constant, never-soothed complaints—
This waiting-woman jargon of ‘lost virtue.’
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Sire, this from you?
LOUIS.
Why, oft—could others hear thee—
Well might they deem thee some poor village Phœbe,
Whom her false Lubin had deceived, and left,
Robb'd of her only dower! and not the great
Duchess la Vallière, in our realm of France
Second to none but our anointed race;
The envy of the beauty and the birth
Of Europe's court—our city of the world!
Is it so great disgrace, Louise la Vallière,
To wear, unrivalled, in thy breast, the heart
Of Bourbon's latest, nor her least, of Kings.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Sire, when you deigned to love me, I had hoped
You knew the sunshine of your royal favour
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Deem that the splendor consecrates the sin!
I'd loved thee with as pure and proud a love,
If thou hadst been the poorest cavalier
That ever served a King—thou know'st it, Louis!
LOUIS.
I would not have it so! my fame, my glory,
The purple and the orb, are part of me;
And thou shouldst love them for my sake, and feel
I were not Louis were I less the King.
Still weeping! Fie! I tell thee tears freeze back
The very love I still would bear to thee!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Would ‘still!’—didst thou say ‘still?’
LOUIS.
Come, lady!
Woman, to keep her empire o'er the heart,
Must learn its nature—mould unto its bias—
And rule, by never differing from our humours.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I'll school my features, teach my lips to smile,
Be all thou wilt; but say not ‘still,’ dear Louis!
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Well, well! no further words; let peace be with us.
(Aside.)
By Heaven, she weeps with yet intenser passion!
It must be that she loved this Bragelone,
And mourns the loftier fate that made her mine!
(Aloud.)
This gallant soldier, Madam, your betrothed,
Hath some share in your tears?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Oh, name him not;
My tears are all unworthy dews to fall
Upon a tomb so honoured!
LOUIS.
Grant me patience!
These scenes are very tedious, fair La Vallière.
In truth, we kings have, in the council chamber,
Enough to make us tearful;—in the bower
We would have livelier subjects to divert us.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Again forgive me! I am sick at heart;
I pray you pardon;—these sad news have marred
The music of your presence, and have made me
Fit but for solitude. I pray you, Sire,
Let me retire; and when again I greet you,
I'll wear the mien you'd have me!
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Be it so!
Let me no more disturb you from your thoughts;
They must be sad. So brave—and your betrothed!
Your grief becomes you.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
You forgive me, Louis?
We do not part unkindly?
LOUIS.
Fair one, no!
[Exit La Vallière.
LOUIS.
She was my first love, and my fondest.—Was!
Alas, the word must come!—I love her yet,
But love wanes glimmering to that twilight—friendship!
Grant that she never loved this Bragelone;
Still, tears and sighs make up dull interludes
In passion's short-lived drama! She is good,
Gentle, and meek,—and I do think she loves me,
(A truth no King is sure of!)—But, in fine,
I have begun to feel the hours are long
Pass'd in her presence; what I hotly sought
Coldly I weary of. I'll seek De Lauzun:
I like his wit—I almost like his knavery;
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Thirst, hunger, rest—these are the wants of peasants:
A courtier's wants are titles, place, and gold;
But a poor king, who has these wants so sated,
Has only one want left—to be amused!
[Exit Louis.
SCENE III.
Re-enter the Duchess de la Vallière.DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Louis! dear Louis!—Gone! alas!—and left me
Half in displeasure!—I was wrong, methinks,
To—no!—I was not wrong to feel remorse,
But wrong to give it utterance!
Enter Madame de Montespan.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
What! alone,
Fair friend? I thought the King—
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Has gone, in anger;
Cold, and in anger.
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What, with thee, dear Lady?
On the smooth surface of that angel meekness
I should have thought no angry breath could linger.
But men and kings are—
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Hush! I was to blame.
The King's all goodness. Shall I write to him?
Letters have not our looks—and, oh, one look!
How many hardest hearts one look hath won
A life consumed in words had wooed in vain!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
To-night there is high revel at the court;
There you may meet your truant King.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
To-night!
An age!—How many hours to night?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
You know
My office makes my home the royal palace;
I serve the Queen, and thus shall see your Louis
Ere the sun set.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
You!—happy you!
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Perchance,
(The King is ever gracious to your friends,
And knows me of the nearest,) I might whisper,
Though with less sweet a tone, your message to him,
And be your dove, and bear you back the olive?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
My kind Athenè!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Nay, 'tis yours the kindness,
To wear my love so near your heart. But, tell me,
Since you accept my heraldry, the cause
Of strife between you in this court of Love.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Alas! I know not—save that I offended!
The wherefore boots the heart that loves to know?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Not much, I own, the poor defendant—woman,
But much the advocate; I need the brief.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Methinks his kingly nature chafes to see
It cannot rule the conscience as the heart;
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Sad thoughts for lonely hours.—Athenè, tell him,
That if he smile once more upon Louise,
The smile shall never pass from that it shines on;
Say—but I'll write myself.
(Sits down to the table and writes.)
MADAME DE MONTESPAN
(aside.)
What need of schemes—
Lauzun's keen wit—Athenè's plotting spirit?
She weaves herself the web that shall ensnare her!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
There; back these feeble words with all thy beauty,
Thy conquering eyes, and thy bewitching smile.
Sure never suit can fail with such a pleader!
And now a little while to holier sadness,
And thine accusing memory, Bragelone!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Whom speak you of?—the hero of the Fronde?
Who seemed the last of the old Norman race,
And half preserved to this degenerate age
The lordly shape the ancient Bayards wore!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
You praise him well! He was my father's friend,
And should have been his son. We were affianced,
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You mourned for him—how much more cause have I!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN
(quickly.)
What! he is dead? your grief the king resented?
Knew he your troth had thus been plighted?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Yes;
And still he seemed to deem it sin to mourn him!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN
(aside.)
A clue—another clue—that I will follow,
Until it lead me to the throne!— (Aloud.)
Well, cheer thee;
Trust your true friend; rely on my persuasion.
Methinks I never tasked its powers till now.
Farewell, and fear not! Oh! I'll plead your cause,
As if myself the client!— (Aside.)
Thou art sentenced!
[Exit Madame de Montespan.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
'Tis a sweet solace still to have a friend—
A friend in woman! Oh, to what a reed
We bind our destinies, when man we love!
Peace, honour, conscience lost—if I lose him,
What have I left? How sinks my heart within me!
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Learns night to smile!—And I'm the thing they envy!
[Exit Duchess de la Vallière.
In representation, the actress who may perform the Duchess de la Vallière will pardon me for observing, that the words in italics should be said, not ironically, but with a kind of sad and patient wonder. She should appear lost in amazed abstraction at the contrast between her real feelings and the envy she excites, and wake from it with a slight start and smile. And, in one word, now that I am on that subject, the actress should remember that the very soul of La Vallière's character is simplicity; and that there are few passages in which the natural tone of voice will not be more suitable and more effective than the declamatory.
SCENE IV.
The Gardens of Versailles—Lauzun, Grammont, and Courtiers.LAUZUN.
'Tis now the hour in which our royal master
Honours the ground of his rejoicing gardens
By his illustrious footsteps!—there, my lords,
That is the true style-courtier!
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Out upon you!
Your phrase would suit some little German prince,
Of fifteen hundred quarterings and five acres,
And not the world's great Louis! 'Tis the hour
When Phœbus shrinks abashed, and all the stars
Envy the day that it beholds the King!
(To them, Marquis de Montespan, in bright scarlet hose.)
MARQUIS DE MONTESPAN.
Most beautiful! You have a turn of thought,
A taste, a sentiment, so chaste and noble!
Oh, I am charmed—enraptured!
LAUZUN.
You here, Marquis!
Why, you make Grammont blush. Such praise from you
Will turn his bashful brain! Dear Montespan,
You are the glass of fashion! Heavens, what stockings!
The exquisite man!
MONTESPAN.
I'faith, methinks they're pretty.
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Pretty!—if I were married, 'troth, my Duchess
Should keep her train at a respectful distance;
You'd set it on a blaze! You walk the earth
Like Cupid mounted on a pair of flambeaux!
Oh, you're a dangerous man!
MONTESPAN.
So says my wife,
And begs me not to come too near her—lest
She love me too outrageously! At courts,
People of quality must be decorous;
'Tis not the mode to seem adored too much.
LAUZUN.
Your wife's an angel! Apropos, dear Marquis;
You see a friend's advice was worth the taking;
Your lady's all the rage;—the King admires her.
MONTESPAN.
The King!—I'm in despair—I mean, dear Duke,
I am enraptured!—hum!—
LAUZUN.
You are not jealous?
MONTESPAN.
Zounds!—jealous!—no!
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No Marquis can be jealous!
MONTESPAN.
Not of a count or baron; but a king!
S'death, if I thought it—were my honour touched,
An' it were fifty kings—
Enter Louis.
LOUIS.
Good day, my Lords!
Pray you be covered. Well!—what says the Marquis
Of fifty kings?
MONTESPAN.
I—I—I'm in despair!
LAUZUN.
That fifty kings would never make one Louis!
LOUIS.
Go to, thou flatterer! Harkye, dear De Lauzun.
[Exeunt the Courtiers, as the King takes Lauzun aside.
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(aside.)
My wife said right; this worthy duke has got
The true court politesse!—He lies divinely!
[Exit Montespan.
LAUZUN.
This Montespan I own is wondrous silly;
But he has one good quality—his wife!
LOUIS.
That's true!—a charming face!
LAUZUN.
Ah! had she heard you,
Your Majesty had made one blissful subject.
LOUIS.
Nay, Lauzun, nay!
LAUZUN.
Her soul is like the Persian,
And on the loftiest eminence hath built
A shrine of fire. But, pardon me, my Liege;
I had forgot, your royal taste prefers
Natures that love less warmly—though as well.
LOUIS.
Hem!—But, in truth, this lady's worth the loving;
And, by mine honour, while we speak, she comes!
A happy fortune.
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LAUZUN
(archly.)
Sire, may I withdraw?
LOUIS.
Some message from the Queen; why—as thou wilt.
LAUZUN
(aside.)
Methinks it may be as I will!
[Exit Lauzun.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
(Appearing for the first time to perceive Louis.)
The King!
(Salutes him, and passes on.)
LOUIS.
Fair Madam, we had hoped you with you brought
Some bright excuse to grace our cheerless presence
With a less short-lived light! You dawn upon us
Only to make us more regret your setting.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Sire, if I dared, I would most gladly hail
A few short moments to arrest your presence,
And rid me of a soft, yet painful duty.
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'Tis the first time, be sure, so sweet a voice
E'er crav'd a sanction for delighting silence.
Speak on, we pray thee!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Gracious Sire, the Duchess,
Whom you have lately left, she fears, in anger,
Besought me to present this letter to you.
LOUIS
(takes the letter, and aside.)
She blushes while she speaks!—'Tis passing strange,
I ne'er remarked those darkly-dreaming eyes,
That melt in their own light!
(Reads, and carelessly puts up the letter.)
It scarcely suits
Her dignity, and ours, to choose a witness
To what hath chanced between us. She is good;
But her youth, spent in some old country castle,
Knows not the delicate spirit of a court.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
She bade me back her suit. Alas! my Liege,
Who can succeed, if fair La Vallière fail?
LOUIS.
She bade thee?—she was prudent! Were I woman,
And loved, I'd not have chosen such a herald.
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Love varies in its colours with all tempers;
The Duchess is too proud to fear a rival,
Too beautiful to find one. May I take
Some word of comfort back to cheer her sadness?
Made doubly deep by thoughts of your displeasure,
And grief for a dear friend.
LOUIS.
Aye, that's the sadness!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
He was a gallant lord, this Bragelone,
And her betrothed. Perchance in youth she loved him,
Ere the great sun had quenched the morning star!
LOUIS.
She loved him!—think'st thou so?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Indeed I know not;
But I have heard her eloquent in praise,
And seen her lost in woe. You will forgive her!
LOUIS.
Forgive her?—there's no cause!
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Now, bless you, Sire,
For that one word. My task is done.
LOUIS.
Already?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
What can I more? Oh, let me hasten back!
What rapture must be hers who can but fill
An atom of the heart of godlike Louis!
How much more the whole soul!—To lose thy love
Must be, not grief, but some sublime despair
Like that the Roman felt who lost a world!
LOUIS.
By Heaven, she fires me!—a brave, royal spirit,
Worthy to love a king!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
To know thee hers,
What pride!—what glory! Though all earth cried ‘Shame!’
Earth could not still the trumpet at her heart,
That, with its swelling and exultant voice,
Told her the earth was but the slave of Louis,
And she the partner! And, O hour of dread!
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Shall win thee from her—still, methinks, 'twould be
A boast to far posterity to point
To all the trophies piled about thy throne,
And say—‘He loved me once!’—O Sire, your pardon;
I am too bold.
LOUIS.
Why, this were love, indeed,
Could we but hope to win it. And such love
Would weave the laurel in its wreaths of myrtle.
Beautiful lady! while thou speak'st, I dream
What love should be,—and feel where love is not!
Thou com'st the suitor, to remain the judge;
And I could kneel to thee for hope and mercy.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Ah, no!—ah, no!—she is my friend. And if
She love not as I love—I mean, I might love—
Still she believes she loves thee. Tempt me not.
Who could resist thee! Sire, farewell!
[Exit Madame de Montespan.
LOUIS.
Her voice
Is hush'd; but still its queen-like music lingers
In my rapt ears. I dreamt Louise had loved me;
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How the tame counterfeit grows pale and lifeless.
By the sad brow of yon devout La Vallière
I feel a man, and fear myself a culprit!
But this high spirit wakes in mine the sense
Of what it is—I am that Louis whom
The world has called ‘The Great!’—and in her pride
Mirror mine own. This jaded life assumes
The zest, the youth, the glory of excitement!
To-night we meet again;—speed fast, dull hours!
[Exit Louis.
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SCENE V.
Grand Saloon in the Palace of Versailles; in the back ground the suite of Apartments is seen in perspective —the Queen seated to the left of the stage; some of the Ladies of the blood royal seated also, but on stools—many Ladies standing round.Several Ladies enter, one by one salute the Queen, and pass on to the front of the stage—the Queen half rises to each, and appears to address them in passing, but in dumb show.
FIRST LADY.
How graciously the Queen receives the Guiches!
SECOND LADY.
See, fair La Tremouille's again in favour!
THIRD LADY.
Hush! Lo, the star that rarely gilds the nights
Of the court-heaven—the beautiful La Vallière!
Enter the Duchess de la Vallière—salutes the Queen, who half turns her back upon her in silence.
FIRST LADY.
Saw you the Queen's marked rudeness?
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Tush! the Queen
Is but a cypher! 'tis the King alone
Whose smile makes up the sum of royal favour.
THIRD LADY.
You're right; and while that smile is still La Vallière's,
She is the real Queen. How say you, Ladies?
Shall we not pay our court to her?
(The Ladies crowd round the Duchess, and appear to render her the most reverential homage, which she receives with humility and embarrassment.)
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(aside.)
These smiles
Cannot efface that injured woman's frown.
Oh, how the heart that wrong'd avenges her!
Enter Lauzun, Marquis de Montespan, and several Courtiers, who, after saluting the Queen, surround the Duchess de la Vallière with still greater homage.
FIRST COURTIER.
(Approaching the Duchess de la Vallière.)
Madam, your goodness is to France a proverb!
If I might dare request, this slight memorial
You would convey to our most gracious Master?
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Is just now vacant. True, I have not served;
But I do trust my valour is well known:
I've killed three noted swordsmen in a duel!—
And, for the rest, a word from you were more
Than all the laurels Holland gave to others.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
My Lord, forgive me! I might ill deserve
The friendship of a monarch, if, forgetting
That honours are the attributes of merit;—
And they who sell the service of the public
For the false coin, soft smiles and honeyed words,
Forge in the antechambers of a palace,
Defraud a people to degrade a king!
If you have merits, let them plead for you;
Nor ask in whispers what you claim from justice.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN
(to first Courtier, as the Duchess de la Vallière turns away.)
Give me the paper. Hush! the King shall see it.
Music.
Enter the King, Grammont, and other Courtiers. He pauses by the Queen, and accosts her respectfully in dumb show.
GRAMMONT
(aside.)
With what a stately and sublime decorum
His Majesty throws grandeur o'er his foibles!
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Most gorgeous of all sensualists!
LAUZUN.
How different
His royal rival in the chase of pleasure,
The spendthrift, sauntering, Second Charles of England!
GRAMMONT.
Ay, Jove to Comus!
LAUZUN.
Silence! Jove approaches!
(The Queen rises, the crowd breaks up into groups; the King passes slowly from each till he joins the Duchess de la Vallière; the Courtiers retire.)
LOUIS.
Why, this is well. I thank you.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
And forgive me?
LOUIS.
Forgive you! You mistake me; wounded feeling
Is not displeasure. Let this pass, Louise.
Your lovely friend has a most heavenly smile!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
And a warm heart. In truth, my Liege, I'm glad
You see her with my eyes.
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You have no friend
Whose face it glads me more to look upon.
(Aside, and gazing on Montespan.)
(What thrilling eyes!)— (Aloud.)
My thanks are due to her,
For, with the oil of her mellifluous voice,
Smoothing the waves the passing breeze had ruffled.
(Joins Madame de Montespan, and leads her through the crowd to the back of the stage.)
LAUZUN
(to Marquis de Montespan.)
Ar'n't you enraptured, Marquis?
MONTESPAN.
Hum!
LAUZUN.
The King
Is very condescending to your lady!
MONTESPAN.
Oh, mighty condescending! How he eyes her!
LAUZUN.
'Tis all for love of you.
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I shall despair
If the King mean me shame!
LAUZUN.
He means you honour.
O what a great man you will be, dear Marquis.
Do not forget your friends!
MONTESPAN.
Why, as you say,
'Tis very flattering—and, on second thoughts,
I clearly see I ought to be enraptured!
(Lauzun leaves Montespan, who mingles with the crowd, and should keep out of sight for the rest of the scene, and joins the Duchess de la Vallière.)
LAUZUN.
Your Grace resolves no more to be content
Eclipsing others. You eclipse yourself.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I thought you were a friend, and not a flatterer.
LAUZUN.
Friendship would lose its dearest privilege
If friendship were forbidden to admire!
Why, ev'n the King admires your Grace's friend,—
Told me to-day she was the loveliest lady
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He gazes on her. How his breathing fans
The locks that shade the roses of her cheek!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Ha! Nay, he still, my heart.
LAUZUN.
It is but friendship;
But it looks wondrous warm!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
He cannot mean it!
And yet—and yet—he lingers on her hand—
He whispers!
LAUZUN.
How the gossips gaze and smile!
There'll be much scandal.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Lauzun!—what!—thou thinks't not?
No, no, thou canst not think—
LAUZUN.
That courts know treachery,
That women are ambitious, or men false;
I will not think it. Pshaw!
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My brain swims round!
Louis, of late, hath been so changed. How fair
She looks to-night!—and, oh, she has not fallen!
He comes—he nears us—he has left her. Fie!
My foolish fancies wronged him!
LAUZUN.
The spell works.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
(As the King quits her, to first Courtier, giving him back the paper.)
My Lord, your suit is granted.
FIRST COURTIER.
Blessings, Madam!
(The other Courtiers come round him.)
SECOND COURTIER.
Her influence must be great. I know three dukes
Most pressing for the post.
THIRD COURTIER.
A rising sun,
Worthier of worship than that cold La Vallière.
The King as well, methinks, might have no mistress,
As one by whom no courtier grew the richer.
(The Courtiers group round Madame de Montespan.)
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My Lords, you do remember the bright lists
Which, in the place termed thenceforth ‘The Carrousel,’
We some time held?—a knightly tournament,
That brought us back the age of the first Francis!
LAUZUN.
Of all your glorious festivals, the greatest!
Who but remembers?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(aside.)
Then he wore my colours.
How kind to bring back to my yearning heart
That golden spring-time of our early loves!
LOUIS.
Next week we will revive the heroic pageant.
Proud plumes shall wave, and levelled spears be shivered;
Ourself will take the lists, and do defy
The chivalry of our renowned France,
In honour of that lady of our court
For whom we wear the colours, and the motto
Which suits her best—‘Most bright where all are brilliant!’
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Oh, a most kingly notion!
LOUIS.
Ere we part,
Let each knight choose his colours and his lady.
Ourself have set the example.
(The Courtiers mingle with the Ladies, &c.; many Ladies give their colours.)
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(timidly.)
Oh, my Louis!
I read thy heart; thou hast chosen this device
To learn thy poor La Vallière to be proud.
Nay, turn not from my blessings. Once before
You wore my colours, though I gave them not.
To-night I give them!—Louis loves me still!
(Takes one of the knots from her breast, and presents it.)
LOUIS.
Lady, the noblest hearts in France would beat
More high beneath your badge. Alas! my service
Is vowed already here.
(Turning to Madame de Montespan, and placing a knot of her colours over his order of the Saint Esprit.)
These are my colours!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
How! How!
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LAUZUN
(to the Duchess de la Vallière.)
Be calm, your Grace; a thousand eyes
Are on you. Give the envious crowd no triumph.
Ah! had my fortune won so soft a heart
I would have—
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Peace!—Away! Betrayed—Undone!
The Place du Carrousel was so named from a splendid festival given by Louis. On the second day, devoted to knightly games, the King, who appeared in the character of Roger, carried off four prizes. All the crown jewels were prodigalized on his arms and the trappings of his horse.
END OF ACT III.
| The Duchess de la Vallière | |