 | The Duchess de la Vallière |  |
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ACT V.
SCENE I.
The Gardens at Versailles.Enter Madame de Montespan, Grammont, and Courtiers.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
So she has fled from court—the saintly Duchess;
A convent's grate must shield this timorous virtue.
Methinks they're not so many to assail it!
Well, trust me, one short moon of fast and penance
Will bring us back the recreant novice—
GRAMMONT.
And
End the eventful comedy by marriage.
Lauzun against the world were even odds;
But Lauzun with the world—what saint can stand it?
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(aside.)
Lauzun!—the traitor! What! to give my rival
The triumph to reject the lawful love
Of him whose lawless passion first betrayed me!
GRAMMONT.
Talk of the devil! Humph—you know the proverb.
Enter Lauzun.
LAUZUN.
Good day, my friends. Your pardon, Madam; I
Thought 'twas the sun that blinded me.— (Aside.)
Athenè!
Pray you, a word.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
(Aloud, and turning away disdainfully.)
We're not at leisure, Duke.
LAUZUN.
Ha! (Aside.)
Nay, Athenè, spare your friend these graces.
Forget your state one moment; have you asked
The King the office that you undertook
To make my own? My creditors are urgent.
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(aloud.)
No, my Lord Duke, I have not asked the King!
I grieve to hear your fortunes are so broken,
And that your honoured and august device,
To mend them by your marriage, failed.
GRAMMONT.
She hits him
Hard on the hip. Ha, ha!—the poor De Lauzun!
LAUZUN.
Sir!—Nay, I'm calm!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Pray, may we dare to ask
How long you've loved the Duchess?
LAUZUN.
Ever since
You were her friend and confidante.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
You're bitter.
Perchance you deem your love a thing to boast of.
LAUZUN.
To boast of!—Yes! 'Tis something ev'n to love
The only woman Louis ever honoured!
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(laying her hand on Lauzun's arm.)
Insolent! You shall rue this! If I speak
Your name to Louis, coupled with a favour,
The suit shall be your banishment!
[Exit Madame de Montespan.
FIRST COURTIER.
Let's follow.
Ha! ha!—Dear Duke, your game, I fear, is lost!
You've played the knave, and thrown away the king.
COURTIERS.
Ha! ha!—Adieu!
[Exeunt.
LAUZUN.
Ha! ha!—the devil take you!
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SCENE II.
Enter to Lauzun the Marquis de Montespan.MARQUIS DE MONTESPAN.
My wife's not here! that's well! We're not to speak;
But, when we meet, I bow—she smiles politely.
A hundred thousand crowns for being civil
To one another! Well now, that's a thing
That happens but to Marquises. It shews
My value in the state! The King esteems
My comfort of such consequence to France,
He pays me down a hundred thousand crowns
Rather than let my wife disturb my temper!
Lauzun! Aha! he seems as something crossed him.
I will console him. Duke, I'm ravish'd!
LAUZUN.
Damn you!
MONTESPAN.
Damn me! What! damn a Marquis! Heaven would think
Twice of it, Sir, before it damn'd a man
Of my rank! Damn a Marquis! there's religion!
[Exit Montespan.
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So, she would ruin me! Fore-armed—fore-warned!
I have the King's ear yet, and know some secrets
That could destroy her! Since La Vallière's flight,
Louis grows sad and thoughtful, and looks cold
On her vain rival, who too coarsely shews
The world the stuff court ladies' hearts are made of.
She will undo herself—and I will help her.
Weave on thy web, false Montespan, weave on;
The bigger spider shall devour the smaller.
The war's declared—'tis clear that one must fall:—
I'll be polite—the Lady to the wall!
[Exit Lauzun.
SCENE III.
Sunset—the old Chateau of La Vallière—the Convent of the Carmelites at a distance—the same scene as that with which the play opens.Enter the Duchess de La Vallière and Bragelone from the Chateau.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Once more, ere yet I take farewell of earth,
I see mine old, familiar, maiden home!
All how unchanged!—the same the hour, the scene,
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Of the smooth wave—the stillness of the trees,
Where the winds sleep like dreams!—and, oh! the calm
Of the blue heavens around yon holy spires,
Pointing, like gospel truths, through calm and storm,
To man's great home!
BRAGELONE
(aside.)
Oh! how the years recede!
Upon this spot I spoke to her of love,
And dreamt of bliss for earth!
(The vesper-bell tolls.)
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Hark! the deep sound,
That seems a voice from some invisible spirit,
Claiming the world for God.—When last I heard it
Hallow this air, here stood my mother, living;
And I—was then a mother's pride!—and yonder
Came thy brave brother in his glittering mail;
And—ah! these thoughts are bitter!—were he living
How would he scorn them!
BRAGELONE
(who has been greatly agitated.)
No!—ah, no!—thou wrong'st him!
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Yet, were he living, could I but receive
From his own lips my pardon, and his blessing,
My soul would deem one dark memorial rased
Out of the page most blistered with its tears!
BRAGELONE.
Then have thy wish! and in these wrecks of man
Worn to decay, and rent by many a storm,
Survey the worm the world called Bragelone.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Avaunt!—avaunt!—I dream!—the dead returned
To earth to mock me!—No! this hand is warm!
I have one murther less upon my soul.
I thank thee, Heaven!— (swoons.)
BRAGELONE
(supporting her.)
The blow strikes home; and yet
What is my life to her? Louise!—She moves not;
She does not breathe; how still she sleeps!—I saw her
Sleep in her mother's arms, and then, in sleep
She smiled. There's no smile now!—poor child! One kiss!
It is a brother's kiss—it has no guilt;
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All earthlier thoughts: her crime, my vows, effaced them.
A brother's kiss!—Away! I'm human still;
I thought I had been stronger; God forgive me!
Awake, Louise!—awake! She breathes once more;
The spell is broke; the marble warms to life!
And I—freeze back to stone!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I heard a voice
That cried ‘Louise!’—Speak, speak!—my sense is dim,
And struggles darkly with a blessed ray
That shot from heaven.—My shame hath not destroy'd thee!
BRAGELONE.
No!—life might yet serve thee!—and I lived on
Dead to all else. I took the vows, and then,
Ere yet I laid me down, and bade the Past
Fade like a ghost before the dawn of heaven,
One sacred task was left.—If love was dust,
Love, like ourselves, hath an immortal soul,
That doth survive whate'er it takes from clay;
And that—the holier part of love—became
A thing to watch thy steps—a guardian spirit
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To soothe the sorrow, to redeem the sin,
And lead thy soul to peace!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
O bright revenge!
Love strong as death, and nobler far than woman's!
BRAGELONE.
To peace—ah, let me deem so!—the mute cloister,
The spoken ritual, and the solemn veil,
Are nought themselves;—the Huguenot abjures
The monkish cell, but breathes, perchance, the prayer
That speeds as quick to the Eternal Throne!
In our own souls must be the solitude;
In our own thoughts the sanctity!—'Tis then
The feeling that our vows have built the wall
Passion can storm not, nor temptation sap,
Gives calm its charter, roots out wild regret,
And makes the heart the world-disdaining cloister.
This—this is peace! but pause, if in thy breast
Linger the wish of earth. Alas! all oaths
Are vain, if nature shudders to record them—
The subtle spirit 'scapes the sealed vessel!
The false devotion is the true despair!
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Fear not!—I feel 'tis not the walls of stone,
Told beads, nor murmured hymns, that bind the heart,
Or exorcise the world; the spell's the thought
That where most weak we've banished the temptation,
And reconciled, what earth would still divide,
The human memories and the immortal conscience.
BRAGELONE.
Doubt fades before thine accents. On the day
That gives thee to the veil we'll meet once more.
Let mine be man's last blessing in this world.
Oh! tell me, then, thou'rt happier than thou hast been;
And when we part, I'll seek some hermit cell
Beside the walls that compass thee, and prayer,
Morning and night, shall join our souls in heaven.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Yes, generous spirit! think not that my future
Shall be repining as the past. Thou livest,
And conscience smiles again. The shattered bark
Glides to its heaven. Joy! the land is near.
[Exit Duchess de la Vallière into the Chateau.
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So, it is past!—the secret is disclosed!
The hand she did reject on earth has led her
To holier ties. I have not lived in vain!
Yet who had dreamed, when through the ranks of war
Went the loud shout of “France and Bragelone!”
That the monk's cowl would close on all my laurels?
A never-heard philosopher is Life!—
Our happiest hours are sleep's;—and sleep proclaims,
Did we but listen to its warning voice,
That REST is earth's elixir. Why, then, pine
That, ere our years grow feverish with their toil,
Too weary-worn to find the rest they sigh for,
We learn betimes THE MORAL OF REPOSE?
I will lie down, and sleep away this world.
The pause of care, the slumber of tired passion,
Why, why defer till night is well nigh spent?
When the brief sun that gilt the landscape sets,
When o'er the music on the leaves of life
Chill silence falls, and every fluttering hope
That voiced the world with song has gone to roost,
Then let thy soul, from the poor labourer, learn
‘Sleep's sweetest taken soonest!’
(As he moves away, his eye falls upon a glove dropped by the Duchess de la Vallière—he takes it up.)
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To hoard a single relic!
(Kisses the glove, and then suddenly dropping it)
No!—'tis sinful!
[Exit Bragelone.
SCENE IV.
The exterior of the Gothic Convent of the Carmelites— The windows illumined—Music heard from within— A crowd without—Enter Courtiers, Ladies, Priests, &c., and pass through the door of the Chapel, in the centre of the building.Enter Lauzun from a door in the side wing of the Convent—To him, Grammont.
LAUZUN.
Where hast thou left the king?
GRAMMONT.
Not one league hence
LAUZUN.
Ere the clock strikes, La Vallière takes the veil.
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Great Heaven! so soon!—and Louis sent me on,
To learn how thou hadst prospered with the Duchess.
He is so sanguine—this imperious King,
Who never heard a “No” from living lips!
How did she take his letter?
LAUZUN.
In sad silence;
Then mused a little while, and some few tears
Stole down her cheeks, as, with a trembling hand,
She gave me back the scroll.
GRAMMONT.
You mean her answer.
LAUZUN.
No; the King's letter. “Tell him that I thank him;”
(Such were her words;) “but that my choice is made;
And ev'n this last assurance of his love
I dare not keep: 'tis only when I pray,
That I may think of him. This is my answer.”
GRAMMONT.
No more?—no written word?
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None, Grammont. Then
She rose and left me; and I heard the bell
Calling the world to see a woman scorn it.
GRAMMONT.
The King will never brook it. He will grasp her
Back from this yawning tomb of living souls.
The news came on him with such sudden shock;
The long noviciate thus abridged; and she—
Ever so waxen to his wayward will!—
She cannot yet be marble.
LAUZUN.
Wronged affection
Makes many a Niobe from tears. Haste, Grammont,
Back to the King, and bid him fly to save,
Or nerve his heart to lose, her. I will follow,—
My second charge fulfilled.
GRAMMONT.
And what is that?
LAUZUN.
Revenge and justice!—Go!
[Exit Grammont.
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(looking down the stage)
I hear her laugh—
I catch the glitter of her festive robe!
Athenè comes to triumph—and to tremble!
SCENE V.
Madame de Montespan, Courtiers, and Lauzun.MADAME DE MONTESPAN
(aside.)
Now for the crowning cup of sparkling fortune!
A rarer pearl than Egypt's queen dissolved
I have immersed in that delicious draught,
A woman's triumph o'er a fairer rival!
(As she turns to enter the convent, she perceives Lauzun.)
What! you here, Duke?
LAUZUN.
Ay, Madam; I've not ye
To thank you for—my banishment!
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The Ides
Of March are come—not over!
LAUZUN.
Are they not?
For some they may be! You are here to witness—
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
My triumph!
LAUZUN.
And to take a friend's condolence.
I bear this letter from the King!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
The King!
(Reads the letter.)
“We do not blame you; blame belongs to love,
And love had nought with you.”—What! what! I tremble!
“The Duke de Lauzun, of these lines the bearer,
Confirms their support: from our royal court
We do excuse your presence.” Banished, Duke?
Is that the word?—What, banished!
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Hush!—you mar
The holy silence of the place. 'Tis true;
You read aright. Our gracious King permits you
To quit Versailles. Versailles is not the world.
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Perdition!—banished!
LAUZUN.
You can take the veil.
Meanwhile, enjoy your triumph!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Triumph!—Ah!
She triumphs o'er me to the last. My soul
Finds hell on earth—and hers makes earth a heaven!
LAUZUN.
Hist!—will you walk within?
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
O, hateful world!
What!—hath it come to this?
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You spoil your triumph!
MADAME DE MONTESPAN.
Lauzun, I thank thee!—thank thee—thank—and curse thee!
[Exit Madame de Montespan.
LAUZUN
(looking after her with a subdued laugh.)
Ha, ha!—the broken heart can know no pang
Like that which racks the bad heart when its sting
Poisons itself. Now, then, away to Louis.
The bell still tolls: there's time. This soft La Vallière!
The only thing that ever baffled Lauzun,
And felt not his revenge!—revenge, poor soul!
Revenge upon a dove!—she shall be saved
From the pale mummies of yon Memphian vault,
Or the great Louis will be less than man,—
Or that fond sinner will be more than woman.
[Exit Lauzun.
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SCENE VI.
The interior of the Chapel of the Carmelite Convent— On the foreground, Courtiers, Ladies, &c.—At the back of the stage, the altar, only partially seen through the surrounding throng—The Officials pass to and fro, swinging the censers—The stage darkened— Lights suspended along the aisle, and tapers by the altar.(As the Scene opens, solemn music, to which is chaunted the following—)
HYMN.
Come from the world, O weary soul,
For run the race and near the goal!
Flee from the net, O lonely dove,
Thy nest is built the clouds above!
Turn, wild and worn with panting fear,
And slake thy thirst, thou wounded deer,
In Jordan's holy springs!
Arise! O fearful soul, arise!
For broke the chain and calm the skies!
As moths fly upward to the star,
The light allures thee from afar.
Though earth is lost, and space is wide,
The smile of God shall be thy guide,
And Faith and Hope thy wings!
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FIRST COURTIER.
Three minutes more, and earth has lost La Vallière!
SECOND COURTIER.
So young!—so fair!
THIRD COURTIER.
'Twas whispered, that the King
Would save her yet!
FIRST COURTIER.
What! snatch her from the altar?
He durst not, man!
Enter Louis, Grammont, and Lauzun.
LOUIS.
Hold! we forbid the rites!
(As the King advances hastily up the aisle, Bragelone places himself before him.)
Back, monk! revere the presence of the King!
BRAGELONE.
And thou the palace of the King of kings!
LOUIS.
Dotard! we claim our subject.
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She hath past
The limit of your realm. Ye priests of God,
Complete your solemn task!—The church's curse
Hangs on the air. Descendant of Saint Louis,
Move—and the avalanche falls!
(The Duchess de la Vallière, still drest in the bridal and gorgeous attire assumed before the taking of the veil, descends from the altar.)
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
No, holy friend!
I need it not; my soul is my protector.
Nay, thou mayst trust me.
BRAGELONE
(after a pause.)
Thou art right.—I trust thee?
LOUIS.
(Leading the Duchess de la Vallière to the front of the stage.)
Thou hast not ta'en the veil?—Ev'n Time had mercy.
Thou art saved!—thou art saved!—to love—to life!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Ah, Sire!
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Call me not Sire!—forget that dreary time
When thou wert Duchess, and myself the King.
Fly back, fly back, to those delicious hours
When I was but thy lover and thy Louis!
And thou my dream—my bird—my fairy flower—
My violet, shrinking in the modest shade
Until transplanted to this breast—to haunt
The common air with odours! Oh, Louise!
Hear me!—the fickle lust of change allured me,
The pride thy virtues wounded armed against thee,
Until I dreamed I loved thyself no longer;
But now this dread resolve, this awe of parting,
Re-binds me to thee—bares my soul before me—
Dispels the lying mists that veiled thine image,
And tells me that I never loved but thee!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I am not then despised!—thou lov'st me still!
And when I pray for thee, my heart may feel
That it hath nothing to forgive!
LOUIS.
Louise!
Thou dost renounce this gloomy purpose?
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Never!
It is not gloomy!—think'st thou it is gloom
To feel that, as my soul becomes more pure,
Heaven will more kindly listen to the prayers
That rise for thee?—is that thought gloom, my Louis?
LOUIS.
Oh! slay me not with tenderness! Return!
And if thy conscience startle at my love,
Be still my friend—my angel!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I am weak,
But, in the knowledge of my weakness, strong!
I could not breathe the air that's sweet with thee,
Nor cease to love!—in flight my only safety;
And were that flight not made by solemn vows
Eternal, it were bootless; for the wings
Of my wild soul know but two bournes to speed to—
Louis and Heaven! And, oh! in Heaven at last
My soul, unsinning, may unite with Louis!
LOUIS.
I do implore thee!—
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No; thou canst not tempt me!
My heart already is the nun.
LOUIS.
Thou know'st not
I have dismissed thy rival from the court.
Return!—though mine no more, at least thy Louis
Shall know no second love!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
What! wilt thou, Louis,
Renounce for me eternally my rival,
And live alone for—
LOUIS.
Thee! Louise, I swear it!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(raising her arms to Heaven.)
Father! at length, I dare to hope for pardon,
For now remorse may prove itself sincere!
Bear witness, Heaven! I never loved this man
So well as now! and never seemed his love
Built on so sure a rock! Upon thine altar
I lay the offering. I revoke the past;
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Louis, when tenfold more beloved, for Heaven!
Ah! pray with me! Be this our latest token—
This memory of sweet moments—sweet, though sinless!
Ah! pray with me! that I may hive till death
The thought—‘we prayed together for forgiveness!’
LOUIS.
Oh! wherefore never knew I till this hour
The treasure I shall lose! I dare not call thee
Back from the Heaven where thou art half already!
Thy soul demands celestial destinies,
And stoops no more to earth. Be thine the peace,
And mine the penance! Yet these awful walls,
The rigid laws of this severest order,
Yon spectral shapes, this human sepulchre,—
And thou, the soft, the delicate, the highborn,
The adored delight of Europe's mightiest king,—
Thou canst not bear it!
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
I have borne much worse—
Thy change and thy desertion!—Let it pass!
There is no terror in the things without;
Our souls alone the palace or the prison;
And the one thought, that I have fled from sin
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And haunt its silence with a mightier music,
Than ever thronged illumined halls, or broke
From harps by mortal strung!
LOUIS.
I will not hear thee!
I cannot brave these thoughts. Thy angel voice
But tells me what a sun of heavenly beauty
Glides from the earth, and leaves my soul to darkness.
This is my work!—'twas I for whom that soul
Forsook its native element; for me,
Sorrow consumed thy youth, and conscience gnawed
That patient, tender, unreproachful heart.
And now this crowns the whole! the priest—the altar—
The sacrifice—the victim! Touch me not!
Speak not! I am unmann'd enough already.
I—I—I choke! These tears—let them speak for me.
Now! now thy hand—O, God! farewell, for ever!
[Exit Louis.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
For ever! till the angel's trump shall wake
Affection from the grave. Ah! blessed thought.
For ever! that's no word for earth; but angels
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Be firm, my heart, be firm!
(After a pause, turning to Bragelone, with a slight smile.)
'Tis past! we've conquered!
(The Duchess de la Vallière re-ascends to the altar— the crowd close around.)
Music.
CHORUS.
Hark! to the nuptial train are opened wide
The Eternal Gates. Hosanna to the bride!
GRAMMONT.
She has ta'en the veil—the last dread rite is done.
ABBESS
(from the altar.)
Sister Louise! before the eternal grate
Becomes thy barrier from the living world,
It is allowed thee once more to behold
The face of men, and bid farewell to friendship.
BRAGELONE
(aside.)
Why do I shudder? why shrinks back my being
From our last gaze, like Nature from the Grave?
One moment, and one look, and o'er her image
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Heralds immortal day. I hear her steps
Treading the mournful silence; o'er my soul
Pauses the freezing time. O Lord, support me!
One effort more—one effort!—Wake, my soul!
'Tis thy last trial; wilt thou play the craven?
(The crowd give way, the Duchess de la Vallière, in the habit of the Carmelite nuns, passes down the steps of the altar, led by the Abbess—As she pauses to address those whom she recognises in the crowd, the chorus chaunts)—
Sister, look and speak thy last,
From the world thou'rt dying fast:
While farewell to life thou'rt giving,
Dead already to the living.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(coming to the front of the stage, sees Lauzun.)
Lauzun! thou serv'st a King, whate'er his faults,
Who merits all thy homage: honour—love him.
His glory needs no friendship; but in sickness,
Or sorrow, kings need love. Be faithful, Lauzun!
And, far from thy loud world, one lowly voice
Shall not forget thee.
BRAGELONE
(aside.)
All the strife is hushed!
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The Saviour walks.
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE
(approaching Bragelone, and kneeling to him.)
And now, oh! friend and father,
Bless the poor Nun!
BRAGELONE.
As Duchess of La Vallière
Thou wert not happy; as the Carmelite Sister,
Say—art thou happy?
DUCHESS DE LA VALLIÈRE.
Yes!
BRAGELONE
(laying his hand on her head.)
O Father, bless her!
CHORUS.
Hark! in heaven is mirth!
Jubilate!
Grief leaves guilt on earth!
Jubilate!
Joy for sin forgiven!
Jubilate!
Come, O Bride of Heaven!
Jubilate!
Curtain falls slowly.
END.
| The Duchess de la Vallière | |