 | Uxmal |  |
Scene changes—State apartment, opening into a suite of
apartments, illuminated for a ball.
King Charles and his Queen, Agnes Sorel, Beaulieu, Giac, Chartier, Chabannes, Trémouille, Otto Castellani, Jean du Village, and numerous others, enter.
Charles.
Thanks, gracious queen. Such welcome puts the favour
Of victory to the blush: . . She droops the head,
In homage to your praises. Fair Sorel!
Your counsel helped our arms, and now your smiles
Enhance their lustre. Valour in our Court,
May choose his mate of beauty.
Queen.
Still away,
In chase of glory? May not I, nor Agnes,
Keep you from Harfleur?
Charles.
Cœur shall answer you.
Behold him, there, with his right noble lady.
Sorel.
Her brow at such a time might be less grave.
Giac.
Mon Dieu! methinks it might!
Beaulieu.
It were unseemly,
Even were she Juno's self.
Cœur, Macée, and Jeanne de Vendôme enter.
Cœur presents Macée to Charles.
Charles.
A debt we owe,
Thus honoured.
Macée.
Wherefore, sire? France in my bosom,
As in my husband's, beats, instead of heart.
His faithful wife is still your loyal subject,
And Heaven, I hear, has sanctioned your great cause.
A sainted maiden hath her mission proved,
In her success, to rescue injured France.
Charles.
Meanst “La Pucelle”? fair dame.
Macée.
Jeanne d'Arc, my liege.
Charles.
Her inspiration, and your husband's gold,
Fair lady, have indeed redeemed the land.
Nor should we now forget to render thanks
For the great gifts, good hands, and better hearts,
That Providence has blessed our France withal.
La Belle Agnes comes in for much of praise:
Upon the altar of her country's cause,
She laid her store of wealth—her gems, her plate,
Setting ensample of like offerings
To others richer still.
Macée.
Let me complete
With her a little. To your righteous cause
I give, what in my sense of all that's rich,
I hold to be a gift unparallelled—
My husband's love, his heart's entire devotion.
Charles.
Spoke like a wife, indeed! In grace whereof,
Lead you the dance.
Macée.
Nay, let Sorel. She is
Lighter of foot and heart.
Charles.
Then, be it so;
Unless our Queen insist upon her right.
[They withdraw into the suite of apartments. Dancers appear in the distance. Music.
Trémouille enters, followed by Beaulieu, Giac and Chabannes.
Giac.
Nay, Trémouille! your hand.
Trémouille.
And why my hand?
Giac.
The issues of the sport disliked you once,
Have been as stern as you would wish them be.
You have returned to us. We should be friends.
Trémouille.
Yes, when we are equal. With our rhyming monarch,
You have the advantage now. I am returned!
What then? Your taunt was true: so are my blows!
Chabannes! bear witness I throw down the gauntlet.
This boaster may disdain to pick it up.
Chabannes.
Right willingly.
Giac.
St. Denis! not so willingly,
As I now take it up.
Enter Cœur, followed by Jean du Village, Otto, Macée and Jeanne Vendôme.—Macée remains behind.
Cœur.
A feud? What, now,
When France needs both your helps? At such a time
And in the midst of our festivity
To forge a private quarrel? I forbid it!
Giac.
With all my heart. I came to be his friend.
O ciel! his folly alters not my purpose.
If he will be my foe, amen to that!
Beaulieu, be witness, I accept his glove.
We'll to the dance!
[Beaulieu and Giac pass in.
Trémouille.
Scorn for his scorn! Chabannes,
You saw my challenge.
Chabannes.
Yes, and well approve it!
Cœur.
Have I not said that I prohibit it?
Chabannes.
Are you the king, or even something more,
That your imperative should carry it?
What hinders that our swords should tilt at you?
Cœur.
Why, that which is far mightier than the sword—
Your honour! and your interest, sirs, beside!
My office, and the power that I could wield,
And will, if needful—which my word alone,
But whispered in my private steward's ear,
Could put in act, and force you to submission!
Chabannes.
Is't possible? Mean you the debts I owe you
Make me your bondsman?
Trémouille.
Nothing less he means.
Chabannes.
Take my defiance, then!
Cœur.
Rein in your wrath,
Chabannes! Because Giac and he are angry,
Should we, like schoolboys, fight?
Trémouille.
Chabannes, away!
'Tis manhood lost to listen to his words!
[Dragging out Chabannes.
Cœur.
Here, Otto! Jean! There must be no delay!
Now, mark me, Otto! You will buy the debt
Of me, that's owing by Chabannes. Good Jean!
He has my orders now to sell it you!
That done, arrest Chabannes! I must not be
As plaintiff in the suit: . . that you must be,
Good Otto! I have served you in my time;
Now, you serve me in this! I say, arrest him.
So, in this challenge, can he lend no aid
To Trémouille. For Trémouille himself,
I have, unknown to him, bought up a debt
He owed an armourer: . . that, too, is yours.
Him, then, as well arrest! No feud shall be
'Twixt him and Giac—I'm resolved on it!
Macée
(coming forward).
Cœur, list to me!
Cœur.
You, here?
Macée.
I have heard all!
The orders you have given Village remand!
The men you would coerce are noble men!
O, play not you the merchant creditor.
Is that a part to play at Court? A poor one!
Rather the baron play, by conduct proved
No less than patent made!
Cœur.
Now, is this well?
Macée.
Ay, Cœur! by all that's well! By what shall I
Adjure thee to be prudent—thou who hast been
In all thy dealings prudent? By thyself,
And by my jealousy of thy dear honour!
Let me speak loudly, Cœur, what men are whispering.
They say, thou art their benefactor, from
The king unto the peasant: this thou art;
But thou art also from the throne to the settle
The creditor of France! And worse—mark that!—
The envious court are debtors to thy bounty,
Mortgaged to thee for more than all are worth.
Wouldst grow a terror to thy friends and foes?
They say, thy benefits are gilded snares:
Hence now thy wealth's a danger to thyself,
Which, therefore, for thy safety, use as none.
Still art thou stubborn? Then, behold, dear Cœur,
Thy proud Macée doth bow the knee to earth;
[Kneels
Here, at thy feet, she makes her humble suit,
And will not rise, till thou hast granted it!
Cœur.
Rise, then! Persuaded, not convinced, . . I grant it.
[She rises.
Jean! I revoke my orders. Castellani!
You've lost percentage by it? (To Macée)
Bravely spoken;
Wisely, perhaps:—I am not assured of that!
To threat is dangerous: to act were safe.
The deed I have recalled—the words I cannot.
It had been better I'd ne'er spoken them,
Since, by your prohibition, they're no more.
'Tis thus, when women interfere with that
Should be the business of man alone.
Well, I forgive thee, wife. Thanks for that smile!
There's nought I'd not surrender, dear Macée,
To have you always smiling! Here's the king.
Re-enter Charles and Court.
Charles.
We may not keep festivity up late,
As if the wars were at an end. Full half
Our victory's yet to come. To morrow morn,
Must see us march for Harfleur. Up betimes!
Till then, good night to all. Friend Cœur, a word!
King Charles and his Queen, Agnes Sorel, Beaulieu, Giac, Chartier, Chabannes, Trémouille, Otto Castellani, Jean du Village, and numerous others, enter.
Charles.
Thanks, gracious queen. Such welcome puts the favour
Of victory to the blush: . . She droops the head,
177
Your counsel helped our arms, and now your smiles
Enhance their lustre. Valour in our Court,
May choose his mate of beauty.
Queen.
Still away,
In chase of glory? May not I, nor Agnes,
Keep you from Harfleur?
Charles.
Cœur shall answer you.
Behold him, there, with his right noble lady.
Sorel.
Her brow at such a time might be less grave.
Giac.
Mon Dieu! methinks it might!
Beaulieu.
It were unseemly,
Even were she Juno's self.
Cœur, Macée, and Jeanne de Vendôme enter.
Cœur presents Macée to Charles.
Charles.
A debt we owe,
Thus honoured.
Macée.
Wherefore, sire? France in my bosom,
As in my husband's, beats, instead of heart.
His faithful wife is still your loyal subject,
And Heaven, I hear, has sanctioned your great cause.
A sainted maiden hath her mission proved,
In her success, to rescue injured France.
Charles.
Meanst “La Pucelle”? fair dame.
Macée.
Jeanne d'Arc, my liege.
Charles.
Her inspiration, and your husband's gold,
178
Nor should we now forget to render thanks
For the great gifts, good hands, and better hearts,
That Providence has blessed our France withal.
La Belle Agnes comes in for much of praise:
Upon the altar of her country's cause,
She laid her store of wealth—her gems, her plate,
Setting ensample of like offerings
To others richer still.
Macée.
Let me complete
With her a little. To your righteous cause
I give, what in my sense of all that's rich,
I hold to be a gift unparallelled—
My husband's love, his heart's entire devotion.
Charles.
Spoke like a wife, indeed! In grace whereof,
Lead you the dance.
Macée.
Nay, let Sorel. She is
Lighter of foot and heart.
Charles.
Then, be it so;
Unless our Queen insist upon her right.
[They withdraw into the suite of apartments. Dancers appear in the distance. Music.
Trémouille enters, followed by Beaulieu, Giac and Chabannes.
Giac.
Nay, Trémouille! your hand.
179
And why my hand?
Giac.
The issues of the sport disliked you once,
Have been as stern as you would wish them be.
You have returned to us. We should be friends.
Trémouille.
Yes, when we are equal. With our rhyming monarch,
You have the advantage now. I am returned!
What then? Your taunt was true: so are my blows!
Chabannes! bear witness I throw down the gauntlet.
This boaster may disdain to pick it up.
Chabannes.
Right willingly.
Giac.
St. Denis! not so willingly,
As I now take it up.
Enter Cœur, followed by Jean du Village, Otto, Macée and Jeanne Vendôme.—Macée remains behind.
Cœur.
A feud? What, now,
When France needs both your helps? At such a time
And in the midst of our festivity
To forge a private quarrel? I forbid it!
Giac.
With all my heart. I came to be his friend.
O ciel! his folly alters not my purpose.
If he will be my foe, amen to that!
Beaulieu, be witness, I accept his glove.
We'll to the dance!
[Beaulieu and Giac pass in.
180
Scorn for his scorn! Chabannes,
You saw my challenge.
Chabannes.
Yes, and well approve it!
Cœur.
Have I not said that I prohibit it?
Chabannes.
Are you the king, or even something more,
That your imperative should carry it?
What hinders that our swords should tilt at you?
Cœur.
Why, that which is far mightier than the sword—
Your honour! and your interest, sirs, beside!
My office, and the power that I could wield,
And will, if needful—which my word alone,
But whispered in my private steward's ear,
Could put in act, and force you to submission!
Chabannes.
Is't possible? Mean you the debts I owe you
Make me your bondsman?
Trémouille.
Nothing less he means.
Chabannes.
Take my defiance, then!
Cœur.
Rein in your wrath,
Chabannes! Because Giac and he are angry,
Should we, like schoolboys, fight?
Trémouille.
Chabannes, away!
'Tis manhood lost to listen to his words!
[Dragging out Chabannes.
Cœur.
Here, Otto! Jean! There must be no delay!
181
Of me, that's owing by Chabannes. Good Jean!
He has my orders now to sell it you!
That done, arrest Chabannes! I must not be
As plaintiff in the suit: . . that you must be,
Good Otto! I have served you in my time;
Now, you serve me in this! I say, arrest him.
So, in this challenge, can he lend no aid
To Trémouille. For Trémouille himself,
I have, unknown to him, bought up a debt
He owed an armourer: . . that, too, is yours.
Him, then, as well arrest! No feud shall be
'Twixt him and Giac—I'm resolved on it!
Macée
(coming forward).
Cœur, list to me!
Cœur.
You, here?
Macée.
I have heard all!
The orders you have given Village remand!
The men you would coerce are noble men!
O, play not you the merchant creditor.
Is that a part to play at Court? A poor one!
Rather the baron play, by conduct proved
No less than patent made!
Cœur.
Now, is this well?
Macée.
Ay, Cœur! by all that's well! By what shall I
Adjure thee to be prudent—thou who hast been
In all thy dealings prudent? By thyself,
182
Let me speak loudly, Cœur, what men are whispering.
They say, thou art their benefactor, from
The king unto the peasant: this thou art;
But thou art also from the throne to the settle
The creditor of France! And worse—mark that!—
The envious court are debtors to thy bounty,
Mortgaged to thee for more than all are worth.
Wouldst grow a terror to thy friends and foes?
They say, thy benefits are gilded snares:
Hence now thy wealth's a danger to thyself,
Which, therefore, for thy safety, use as none.
Still art thou stubborn? Then, behold, dear Cœur,
Thy proud Macée doth bow the knee to earth;
[Kneels
Here, at thy feet, she makes her humble suit,
And will not rise, till thou hast granted it!
Cœur.
Rise, then! Persuaded, not convinced, . . I grant it.
[She rises.
Jean! I revoke my orders. Castellani!
You've lost percentage by it? (To Macée)
Bravely spoken;
Wisely, perhaps:—I am not assured of that!
To threat is dangerous: to act were safe.
The deed I have recalled—the words I cannot.
It had been better I'd ne'er spoken them,
Since, by your prohibition, they're no more.
'Tis thus, when women interfere with that
183
Well, I forgive thee, wife. Thanks for that smile!
There's nought I'd not surrender, dear Macée,
To have you always smiling! Here's the king.
Re-enter Charles and Court.
Charles.
We may not keep festivity up late,
As if the wars were at an end. Full half
Our victory's yet to come. To morrow morn,
Must see us march for Harfleur. Up betimes!
Till then, good night to all. Friend Cœur, a word!
| Uxmal | |