The Cardinal's my friend! Who loves me mustLove him!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Sire!
THE KING.
Silence! He's my second self.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Sire!
THE KING.
Bring no more such griefs to trouble me![Showing his hair, which is beginning to turn gray.Petitioners like you make these gray hairs!
[Showing his hair, which is beginning to turn gray.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
An old man, sire; a woman, sire, who weeps!A word from you is life or death for us!
THE KING.
What do you ask?
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Pardon for my Gaspard!
MARION.
Pardon for Didier!
THE KING.
Pardons of a kingAre often thefts from justice!
MARION.
Oh, no, sire!Since God himself is merciful, you needNot fear! Have pity! Two young, thoughtless men,Pushed by this duel o'er a precipiceTo die! Good God! to die upon the gallows!You will have pity, won't you? I don't knowHow people talk to kings—I'm but a woman;To weep so much perhaps is wrong. But oh,A monster is that cardinal of yours.Why does he hate them? They did naught to him.He never saw my Didier. All who doMust love him! They're so young—these two! To dieFor just a duel! Think about their mothers.Oh, it is horrible! You will not do it, sire!We women cannot talk as well as men.We've only cries and tears and knees, which bendAnd totter as kings turn their eyes on us.They were in fault, of course! But if they brokeYour law, you can forgive it! What is youth?Young people are so heedless! For a look,A word, a trifle, anything or nothing,They always lose their heads like that! Such thingsAre happening every day. Each noble, here,He knows it. Ask them, sire! Is it not true,My lords? Oh, frightful hour of agony!To know with one word you can save two lives!I'd love you all my life, sire, if you wouldHave mercy—mercy, God! If I knew how,I'd talk so that you'd have to say that word.You'd pardon them; you'd say, "I must consoleThat woman, for her Didier is her soul."I suffocate, sire. Pity, pity me!
THE KING.
Who is this woman?
MARION.
She's a sister, sire,Who trembles at your feet. You owe somethingUnto your people!
THE KING.
Yes! I owe myselfTo them, and dueling does grievous harm.
MARION.
You should have pity!
THE KING.
And obedience, too!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
Two boys of twenty years! Think of it well!Their years together are but half of mine!
MARION.
Your Majesty, you have a mother, wife,A son—some one at least who's dear to you!A brother? Then have pity for a sister!
THE KING.
No, I have not a brother! [Reflects a moment.Yes,Monsieur![Perceiving the escort ofMarquis de Nangis.Well, my lord marquis, what is this brigade?Are we besieged, or off to the Crusades?To bring your guards thus boldly in my sight,Are you a duke and peer?
[Perceiving the escort ofMarquis de Nangis.
MARQUIS DE NANGIS.
I'm better, sire,Than any duke and peer, created for mere show!I'm Breton baron of four baronies.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (aside).
His pride is great, and here, unfortunate!
THE KING.
Good! To your manors carry back your rights,And leave us ours within our own domain.We are justiciary!
MARQUIS DE NANGIS (shuddering).
Sire, reflect!Think of their age, their expiated fault![Falling on his knees.The pride of an old man, who, prostrate, kneels!Have mercy![The Kingmakes an abrupt sign of anger and refusal.I was comrade to Henry!Your father and our father! I was thereWhen he—that monster—struck the fatal blow.'Til night I watched beside my royal dead:It was my duty. I have seen my fatherAnd my six brothers fall 'neath rival factions;I have lost the wife who loved me. NowThe old man standing here is like a victimWhom a hard executioner, for sport,Has bound unto the wheel the whole long day.My master, God has broken every limbWith His great iron rod! 'Tis night-time now,And I've received the final blow! Farewell,My king! God keep you!
[Falling on his knees.
[The Kingmakes an abrupt sign of anger and refusal.
[He makes a profound obeisance, and exits.Marionlifts herself with difficulty, and, staggering, falls on the threshold of the gilt door ofThe King'sprivate room.
THE KING (toDuke de Bellegarde, wiping his eyes and watching the retreating figure ofMarquis de Nangis).
A sad interview!Ah, not to weaken, kings must watch themselves!To do right is not easy. I was touched.[Reflects for a moment, then interrupts himself suddenly.No pardoning to-day, for yesterdayI sinned too much![ApproachingDuke de Bellegarde.Before he came, my lord,You said bold things, which may be bad for youWhen I report to my lord cardinalThe conversation we have had. I'm sorryFor you, Duke. In the future, have more care!I slept so wretchedly, my poor Bellegarde.[With a gesture dismissing Courtiers and Guards.Pray leave us, gentlemen![ToL'Angely.] Stay, you!
[Reflects for a moment, then interrupts himself suddenly.
[ApproachingDuke de Bellegarde.
[With a gesture dismissing Courtiers and Guards.
[All go out exceptMarion, whomThe Kingdoes not see.Duke de Bellegardesees her crouching on the threshold of the door and goes to her.
DUKE DE BELLEGARDE (low toMarion).
My child,You can't remain here, crouching by this door;What are you doing like a statue there?Get up and go away!
MARION.
I'm waiting hereFor them to kill me!
L'ANGELY (low toDuke de Bellegarde).
Leave her there, my lord![Low toMarion.] Remain!
[He returns toThe King, who is seated in the great armchair and is in a profound reverie.
The King, L'Angely
THE KING (sighing deeply).
Ah! L'Angely, my heart is sick.'Tis full of bitterness. I cannot smile.You, only, have the power to cheer me. Come!You stand in no awe of my majesty.Come, throw a glint of pleasure in my soul.
[A pause.
L'ANGELY.
Life is a bitter thing, your Majesty.
THE KING.
Alas!
L'ANGELY.
Man is a breath ephemeral!
THE KING.
A breath, and nothing more!
L'ANGELY.
UnfortunateIs any one who is both man and king.Is it not true?
THE KING.
A double burden—yes.
L'ANGELY.
And better far than life, sire, is the tomb,If but its gloom is deep enough!
THE KING.
I've thoughtThat always!
L'ANGELY.
To be dead or unborn isThe only happiness. Yes, man's condemned!
THE KING.
You give me pleasure when you talk like this!
[A silence.
L'ANGELY.
Once in the tomb, think you one e'er gets out?
THE KING (whose sadness has increased with the Fool's words).
We'll know that later. I wish I were there![Silence.Fool, I'm unhappy! Do you comprehend?
[Silence.
L'ANGELY.
I see it in your face so thin and worn,And in your mourning—
THE KING.
Ah, why should I laugh?Your tricks are lost on me! What use is lifeTo you? The fine profession! Jester to the King!Bell out of tune, a jumping-jack to play with,Whose half-cracked laugh is but a poor grimace!What is there in the world for you, poor toy?Why do you live?
L'ANGELY.
For curiosity.But you—why should you live? I pity you!I'd sooner be a woman than a kingLike you. I'm but a jumping-jack whose stringYou hold; but underneath your royal coatThere's hid a tauter string, a strong arm holds.Better a jumping-jack in a king's handsThan in a priest's, my sire.
[Silence.
THE KING (thinking, growing more and more sad).
You speak the truth,Although you laugh. He is a fearful man!Has Satan made himself a cardinal?What if 'twere Satan who possessed my soul!What say you?
L'ANGELY.
I have often had that thoughtMyself!
THE KING.
We must not speak thus. 'Tis a sin!Behold, how dire misfortune follows me!I had some Spanish cormorants. I comeTo this place—not a drop of water hereFor fishing! In the country! Not a pondIn this accursed Chambord large enoughTo drown a flesh-worm! When I wish to hunt—The sea! And when I wish to fish—the fields!Am I unfortunate enough?
L'ANGELY.
Your lifeIs full of woe.
THE KING.
How will you comfort me?
L'ANGELY.
Another grief! You hold in high esteem,And justly too, the art of training hawksFor hunting partridges. A good huntsman—You're one—ought to respect the falconer.
THE KING.
The falconer! A god!
L'ANGELY.
Well! there are twoWho are at point of death!
THE KING.
Two falconers?
L'ANGELY.
Yes!
THE KING.
Who are they?
L'ANGELY.
Two famous ones!
THE KING.
But who?
L'ANGELY.
Those two young men whose lives were begged of you!
THE KING.
Gaspard and Didier?
L'ANGELY.
Yes; they are the last.
THE KING.
What a calamity! Two falconers!Now that the art is very nearly lost.Unhappy duel! When I'm dead, this artWill go from earth, as all things go at last!Why did they fight this duel?
L'ANGELY.
One declaredThat hawks upon the wing were not as swiftAs falcons.
THE KING.
He was wrong. But yet that seemsScarcely a hanging matter— [Silence.And my rightOf pardon is inviolable—thoughI am too lenient, says the Cardinal! [Silence.[ToL'Angely.] The Cardinal desires their death?
L'ANGELY.
He does!
THE KING (after pausing and reflecting).
Then they shall die!
L'ANGELY.
They shall!
THE KING.
Poor falconry!
L'ANGELY (going to window).
Sire, look!
THE KING (turns around suddenly).
At what?
L'ANGELY.
Just look, I beg of you!
THE KING (rising and going to the window).
What is it?
L'ANGELY (indicating something outside).
They have changed the sentinel!
THE KING.
Well, is that all?
L'ANGELY.
Who is that fellow withThe yellow lace?
THE KING.
No one—the corporal!
L'ANGELY.
He puts a new man there. What says he, low?
THE KING.
The password! Fool! What are you driving at?
L'ANGELY.
At this: Kings act the part of sentinels.Instead of pikes, a scepter they must bear.When they have strutted 'round their little day,Death comes—the corporal of kings—and putsAnother scepter-bearer in their place,Speaking the password which God sends, and whichIs clemency.
THE KING.
No, it is justice. Ah,Two falconers! It is a frightful loss!Still, they must die.
L'ANGELY.
As you must die, and I.Or big or little, death has appetiteFor all. But though they've not much room,The dead sleep well. The Cardinal annoysAnd wearies you. Wait, sire! A day, a month,A year; when we have played as long as needful—I, my own part of fool; you, king; and he,The master—we will go to sleep. No matterHow proud or great we are, no one shall haveMore than six feet of territory there.Look! how they bear his lordly litter now!
THE KING.
Yes, life is dark; the tomb alone is bright.If you were not at hand to cheer me up—
L'ANGELY.
Alas! I came to-day to say farewell.
THE KING.
What's that?
L'ANGELY.
I leave you!
THE KING.
You're a crazy fool!Death, only, frees from royal service.
L'ANGELY.
Well,I am about to die!
THE KING.
Have you gone mad?
L'ANGELY.
You have condemned me—you, the King of France!
THE KING.
If you are joking, fool, explain yourself.
L'ANGELY.
I shared the duel of those two young men—At least my sword did, sire, if I did not.I here surrender it.
[Draws his sword and, kneeling, presents it toThe King.
THE KING (takes it and examines it).
Indeed, a sword!Where does it come from, friend?
L'ANGELY.
We're noble, sire!The guilty are not pardoned. I am one.
THE KING (somber and stern).
Good night, then! Let me kiss your neck, poor fool,Before they cut it off. [EmbracesL'Angely.
L'ANGELY (aside).
He's in dead earnest!
THE KING (after a pause).
For never does a worthy king opposeThe course of justice. But you claim too much,Lord Cardinal—two falconers and my fool!All for one duel![Greatly agitated, he walks up and down with his hand on his forehead. Then he turns toL'Angely, who is most anxious.Go! console yourself!Life is but bitterness, the tomb means rest.Man is a breath ephemeral.
[Greatly agitated, he walks up and down with his hand on his forehead. Then he turns toL'Angely, who is most anxious.
L'ANGELY (aside).
The devil!
[The Kingcontinues to pace the floor and appears violently agitated.
THE KING.
And so, you think you'll have to hang, poor fool!
L'ANGELY (aside).
He means it! God! I feel cold perspirationStarting upon my brow.[Aloud.] Unless a wordFrom you—
THE KING.
Whom shall I have to make me laugh?If you should rise from out the tomb, come backAnd tell me all about it. 'Tis a chance!
L'ANGELY.
The errand is a pleasant one!
[The Kingcontinues to walk rapidly, speaking toL'Angelynow and then.
THE KING.
What triumphFor my lord cardinal—my fool![Folding his arms.Think youI could be master if I wished to be?
[Folding his arms.
L'ANGELY.
Montaigne would say, "Who knows?" And Rabelais,"Perhaps."
THE KING (with gesture of determination).
Give me a parchment, fool.[L'Angelyeagerly hands a parchment which he finds on the table near the writing-desk.The Kinghastily writes a few words, then gives the parchment back toL'Angely.Behold!I pardon all.
[L'Angelyeagerly hands a parchment which he finds on the table near the writing-desk.The Kinghastily writes a few words, then gives the parchment back toL'Angely.
L'ANGELY.
All three?
THE KING.
Yes.
L'ANGELY (running toMarion).
Come, madame,Come, kneel, and thank the King.
MARION (falling on her knees).
We have the pardon?
L'ANGELY.
Yes! It was I—
MARION.
Whose knees must I embrace—His Majesty's or yours?
THE KING (astonished, examiningMarion: aside).
What does this mean?Is this a trap?
L'ANGELY (giving parchment toMarion).
Here is the pardon. Take it!
[Marionkisses it, and puts it in her bosom.
THE KING (aside).
Have I been duped?[ToMarion.] One instant! Give it back!
MARION.
Good God![ToThe King, with courage, touching her breast.Come here and take it, and tear outMy heart as well!
[ToThe King, with courage, touching her breast.
[The Kingstops and steps backward, much embarrassed.
L'ANGELY (low toMarion).
Good! Keep it, and be firm!His Majesty won't take it, there!
THE KING (toMarion).
Give itTo me!
MARION.
Take it, my sire!
THE KING (casting down his eyes).
Who is this siren?
L'ANGELY (low toMarion).
He wouldn't touch the corset of the Queen!
THE KING (after a moment's hesitation, dismissesMarionwith a gesture without looking at her).
Well, go!
MARION (bowing profoundly toThe King).
I'll fly to save the prisoners! [Exits.
L'ANGELY (toThe King).
She's sister to Didier, the falconer.
THE KING.
She can be what she will. It's very strange,The way she made me drop my eyes! Made me,A man— [Silence.Fool, you have played a trick on me!I'll have to pardon you a second time.
L'ANGELY.
Yes, do it! Every time they grant a pardon,Kings lift a dreary weight from off their hearts.
THE KING.
You speak the truth. I always suffer whenLa Grève holds court. Nangis was right: the deadServe nobody. To fill MontfauconI make a desert of the Louvre![Walking rapidly.'Tis treasonTo strike my right of pardon out, beforeMy face. What can I do? Disarmed, dethroned,And fallen: in this man absorbed, as inA sepulcher! His cloak becomes my shroud:My people mourn for me as for the dead.I am resolved: those two boys shall not die!The joy of living is a heavenly gift.[After reflection.God, who knows where we go, can ope the tomb;A king cannot. Back to their familiesI give them; that old man, that fair young girl,Will bless me. It is said: I've signed it—I,The King. The Cardinal will be furious,But it will please Bellegarde.
[Walking rapidly.
[After reflection.
L'ANGELY.
One can, sometimes,Be kingly by mistake.
THE CARDINAL
Scene.—Beaugency. The tower of Beaugency. A courtyard; the tower in the background, all around a high wall. To the left, a tall arched door; to the right, a small rounded door in the wall; near the door a stone table and stone bench
Some Workmen. They are pulling down a corner of the back wall on the left. The demolition is almost completed
FIRST WORKMAN (working with his pickax).
It's very hard!
SECOND WORKMAN (working).
Deuce take this heavy wall we're pulling down!
THIRD WORKMAN (working).
Saw you the scaffold, Peter?
FIRST WORKMAN.
Yes, I did.[He goes to the large door and measures it.The door is narrow; never will the litterOf the Lord Cardinal go through it.
[He goes to the large door and measures it.
THIRD WORKMAN.
Bah!Is it a house?
FIRST WORKMAN (with affirmative gesture).
With great long curtains. Yes.It takes some four and twenty men on footTo carry it.
SECOND WORKMAN.
I saw the great machine,One night when it was very dark. It lookedJust like Leviathan in shadow-land.
THIRD WORKMAN.
What does he come here with his sergeants for?
FIRST WORKMAN.
To see the execution of those two young men.He's sick. He needs to be amused.
SECOND WORKMAN.
To work![They resume work; the wall is about torn down.Saw you the scaffold, all in black? That comesOf being noble!
[They resume work; the wall is about torn down.
FIRST WORKMAN.
They have everything.
SECOND WORKMAN.
I wonderIf they would build a black scaffold for us.
FIRST WORKMAN.
What have those young men done that they should die?Hein? Do you understand, Maurice?
THIRD WORKMAN.
I don't.It's justice.
[They continue their work.Laffemasenters;The Workmenare silent. He comes from the back as though he were coming from an inside court of the prison; stops besideThe Workmen, appears to examine the breach, and gives them some directions. When the space is opened, he orders them to hang black cloth across it, which covers it entirely; then he dismisses them. At almost the same momentMarionappears, dressed in white, and veiled; she enters through the great door, crosses the court rapidly, and runs to the grating of the small door, at which she knocks.Laffemasfollows slowly in the same direction. The grating is opened;The Turnkeyappears.
Marion, Laffemas
MARION (showing a parchment toThe Turnkey).
Order of the King!
THE TURNKEY.
You can'tEnter, madame.
MARION.
What!
LAFFEMAS (presenting a paper toThe Turnkey).
Signed, the Cardinal!
THE TURNKEY.
Enter.
[When about to enter,Laffemasturns, looks atMariona moment, then approaches her.The Turnkeyshuts the door.
LAFFEMAS (toMarion).
You here? This questionable place!
MARION.
I am. [Triumphantly showing the parchment.I have the pardon!
LAFFEMAS (showing his).
Yes? I haveThe revocation!
MARION (with a cry of horror).
Mine was yesterday—The morning!
LAFFEMAS.
Mine, last night!
MARION (with hands over her eyes).
My God! No hope!
LAFFEMAS.
Hope is a flash of lightning which deceives.The clemency of kings is a frail thing;It comes with lagging steps and goes with wings.
MARION.
The King was moved with pity for their fate!
LAFFEMAS.
What can the King against the Cardinal?
MARION.
Oh, Didier, our last hope's extinguished now!
LAFFEMAS (low).
Not—not the last!
MARION.
Just Heaven!
LAFFEMAS (drawing near to her).
There is hereA man whom one short word from you could makeHappier than any king, and mightier too!
MARION.