University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

The Gardens at Versailles.
Enter Lauzun.
LAUZUN.
So far, so prosperous! From the breast of Louis,
The blooming love it bore so long a summer,
Falls like a fruit o'er-ripe; and, in the court,
And o'er the King, this glittering Montespan
Queens it without a rival,—awes all foes,
And therefore makes all friends. State, office, honours,
Reflect her smile, or fade before her frown.
So far, so well! Enough for Montespan.
For Lauzun now!—I love this fair La Vallière,
As well, at least, as woman's worth the loving;
And if the jewel has one trifling flaw,
The gold 'tis set in will redeem the blemish.
The King's no niggard lover; and her wealth
Is vast. I have the total in my tablets—
(Besides estates in Picardy and Provence.)
I'm very poor—my debtors very pressing.
I've robbed the Duchess of a faithless lover,
To give myself a wife, and her a husband.
Wedlock's a holy thing,—and wealth a good one!

Enter Marquis de Montespan.
MONTESPAN.
O Duke, behold a miserable man!

LAUZUN.
What! in despair?

MONTESPAN.
Despair, sir!—that's a thing
That happens every hour! But this—

LAUZUN.
Take breath.
What is the matter?

MONTESPAN.
Banished from the court!

LAUZUN.
Banished? For what offence?

MONTESPAN.
Because the King
Complains my wife's an angel! and declares
Her health will be affected by my temper.
My temper!—I'm a lamb!

LAUZUN.
Perhaps the King
Is jealous of you?

MONTESPAN.
On my life, you've hit it!
And yet, I never gave him any cause!

Enter Louis.
LOUIS
(to Marquis de Montespan.)
You, my Lord, in the precincts of our palace!—
This is too daring.

MONTESPAN.
Oh, your Majesty,
I do beseech your grace. I am most sorry
To have a wife so good. 'Tis not my fault, Sire.

LOUIS.
Silence, my Lord! Your strange and countless follies—
The scenes you make—your loud domestic broils—
Bring scandal on our court. Decorum needs
Your banishment; or, since you cannot live
With your fair lady in harmonious concord,
Leave her in peace, and live alone!

MONTESPAN.
Alas!
There is no broil.

LAUZUN
(aside.)
What, contradict the King!

MONTESPAN.
My wife and I are doves!

LOUIS.
You must perceive
That it were best for both to break a chain
You both abhor.

MONTESPAN.
I swear—

LOUIS.
Peace, Marquis! Go!
And for your separate household, which entails
A double cost, our treasurer shall accord you
A hundred thousand crowns.

MONTESPAN.
O generous Monarch!

LOUIS.
Mind, your poor lady, from this hour, is free.
No more. Your exile is revoked. Good day, sir!

MONTESPAN.
A hundred thousand crowns!

LAUZUN.
Begone!

MONTESPAN.
With rapture!
[Exit Marquis de Montespan.

LOUIS.
A fool, well rid of. Strange that such a dolt
Should e'er be mated with the bright Athenè.
Pleasure is never stagnant in her presence;
But every breeze of woman's changeful skies
Ripples the stream, and freshens e'en the sunshine.

LAUZUN.
'Tis said, your Majesty, ‘that contrast's sweet,’
And she you speak of well contrasts another,
Whom once—

LOUIS.
I loved; and still devoutly honour.
This poor La Vallière!—could we will affection,
I would have never changed. And even now
I feel Athenè has but charmed my senses,
And my void heart still murmurs for Louise!
I would we could be friends, since now not lovers,
Nor dare be happy while I know her wretched.

LAUZUN.
Wearies she still your Majesty with prayers,
Tender laments, and passionate reproaches?

LOUIS.
Her love outlives its hopes.

LAUZUN.
An irksome task
To witness tears we cannot kiss away,
And with cold friendship freeze the ears of love!

LOUIS.
Most irksome and most bootless!

LAUZUN.
Haply, Sire,
In one so pure, the charm of wedded life
Might lull keen griefs to rest, and curb the love
Thou fli'st from to the friendship that thou seekest?

LOUIS.
I've thought of this. The Duke de Longueville loves her,
And hath besought before her feet to lay
His princely fortunes.

LAUZUN
(quickly.)
Ha!—and she—

LOUIS.
Rejects him.

LAUZUN.
Sire, if love's sun, once set, bequeaths a twilight,
'Twould only hover o'er some form whom chance
Had linked with Louis—some one (though unworthy)
Whose presence took a charm from brighter thoughts
That knit it with the past.

LOUIS.
Why, how now, Duke!—
Thou speak'st not of thyself?

LAUZUN.
I dare not, Sire!

LOUIS.
Ha! ha!—poor Lauzun!—what! the soft La Vallière
Transfer her sorrowing heart to thee! Ha! ha!

LAUZUN.
My name is not less noble than De Longueville's;
My glory greater, since the world has said
Louis esteems me more.

LOUIS.
Esteems! No!—favours!
And thou dost think that she, who shrunk from love,
Lest love were vice, would wed the wildest Lord
That ever laughed at virtue?

LAUZUN.
Sire, you wrong me,
Or else you (pardon me) condemn yourself.
Is it too much for one the King calls friend
To aspire to one the King has call'd—

LOUIS.
Sir, hold!
I never so malign'd that hapless Lady
As to give her the title only due
To such as Montespan, who glories in it—
The last my mistress; but the first my victim:
A nice distinction, taught not in your logic,
Which, but just now, confused esteem and favour.
Go to! we kings are not the dupes you deem us.

LAUZUN
(aside.)
So high! I'll win La Vallière to avenge me,
And humble this imperial vanity.
(Aloud.)
Sire, I offend! Permit me to retire,
And mourn your anger; nor presume to guess
Whence came the cause. And, since it seems your favour
Made me aspire too high, in that I loved
Where you, Sire, made love noble, and half-dreamed
Might be—nay, am not—wholly there disdained—

LOUIS.
How, Duke!

LAUZUN.
I do renounce at once
The haughty vision. Sire, permit my absence.

LOUIS.
Lauzun, thou hintest that, were suit allowed thee,
La Vallière might not scorn it;—is it so?

LAUZUN.
I crave your pardon, Sire.

LOUIS.
Must I ask twice?

LAUZUN.
I do believe, then, Sire, with time and patience,
The Duchess might be won to—not reject me!

LOUIS.
Go, then, and prove thy fortune. We permit thee.
And, if thou prosperest, why then love's a riddle,
And woman is—no matter! Go, my Lord;
We did not mean to wound thee. So, forget it!
Woo when thou wilt—and wear what thou canst win.

LAUZUN.
My gracious Liege, Lauzun commends him to thee;
And if one word, he merit not, may wound him,
He'll think of favours words can never cancel.
Memory shall med'cine to his present pain.
God save you, Sire!— (Aside)
to be the dupe I deem you!
[Exit Lauzun.

LOUIS.
I love her not; and yet, methinks, am jealous!
Lauzun is wise and witty—knows the sex;
What if she do?—No! I will not believe it.
And what is she to me?—a friend—a friend!
And I would have her wed. 'Twere best for both—
A balm for conscience—an excuse for change!
'Twere best:—I marvel much if she'll accept him!
[Exit Louis.