Chapter 5

All

All

All

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

Morbleu!And how did it happen, Monsieur l’Abbé?

Morbleu!And how did it happen, Monsieur l’Abbé?

Morbleu!And how did it happen, Monsieur l’Abbé?

Morbleu!

And how did it happen, Monsieur l’Abbé?

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

Behold us at our ease in the great hall,De Vardes and I, a-musing o’erpiquet!Voltaire beside us, for we read “Alzire,”A wine as well, more suave than any verse;A still and starlit night, soft, fair, and warm;Wax-lights, and roses in a china bowl.He laid aside his sword and I my cap,All tranquilly at home, the Two Estates!He heldcarte blanche, I followed withquatorze.The roses sweetly smelled, the candles burned,At peace we were with nature and mankind.—A crash of painted glass! a whirling stone!A candle out! the roses all o’erturned!The thunder of a log against our doors!A clattering of sabots! a sudden shout!Morbec, Morbec, it is thy Judgment Night!Admission, admission, Aristocrats!Red turns the night, the servants all rush in.Sieur! Sieur!the lackeys moan and wring their hands.Give, give!the terrace croaks.Burn, Morbec, burn!The great bell swings in the windy towerTill the wolves in the forest pause to hear.Fall, Morbec, fall! France has no need of thee!Upsprings a rosy light! a smell of smoke!Mischief’s afoot! The Baron of MorbecLays down his cards and takes his rapier up,HumsLe Sein de sa Famille, shutsAlzire,Resignedly rises—

Behold us at our ease in the great hall,De Vardes and I, a-musing o’erpiquet!Voltaire beside us, for we read “Alzire,”A wine as well, more suave than any verse;A still and starlit night, soft, fair, and warm;Wax-lights, and roses in a china bowl.He laid aside his sword and I my cap,All tranquilly at home, the Two Estates!He heldcarte blanche, I followed withquatorze.The roses sweetly smelled, the candles burned,At peace we were with nature and mankind.—A crash of painted glass! a whirling stone!A candle out! the roses all o’erturned!The thunder of a log against our doors!A clattering of sabots! a sudden shout!Morbec, Morbec, it is thy Judgment Night!Admission, admission, Aristocrats!Red turns the night, the servants all rush in.Sieur! Sieur!the lackeys moan and wring their hands.Give, give!the terrace croaks.Burn, Morbec, burn!The great bell swings in the windy towerTill the wolves in the forest pause to hear.Fall, Morbec, fall! France has no need of thee!Upsprings a rosy light! a smell of smoke!Mischief’s afoot! The Baron of MorbecLays down his cards and takes his rapier up,HumsLe Sein de sa Famille, shutsAlzire,Resignedly rises—

Behold us at our ease in the great hall,De Vardes and I, a-musing o’erpiquet!Voltaire beside us, for we read “Alzire,”A wine as well, more suave than any verse;A still and starlit night, soft, fair, and warm;Wax-lights, and roses in a china bowl.He laid aside his sword and I my cap,All tranquilly at home, the Two Estates!He heldcarte blanche, I followed withquatorze.The roses sweetly smelled, the candles burned,At peace we were with nature and mankind.—A crash of painted glass! a whirling stone!A candle out! the roses all o’erturned!The thunder of a log against our doors!A clattering of sabots! a sudden shout!Morbec, Morbec, it is thy Judgment Night!Admission, admission, Aristocrats!Red turns the night, the servants all rush in.Sieur! Sieur!the lackeys moan and wring their hands.Give, give!the terrace croaks.Burn, Morbec, burn!The great bell swings in the windy towerTill the wolves in the forest pause to hear.Fall, Morbec, fall! France has no need of thee!Upsprings a rosy light! a smell of smoke!Mischief’s afoot! The Baron of MorbecLays down his cards and takes his rapier up,HumsLe Sein de sa Famille, shutsAlzire,Resignedly rises—

Behold us at our ease in the great hall,

De Vardes and I, a-musing o’erpiquet!

Voltaire beside us, for we read “Alzire,”

A wine as well, more suave than any verse;

A still and starlit night, soft, fair, and warm;

Wax-lights, and roses in a china bowl.

He laid aside his sword and I my cap,

All tranquilly at home, the Two Estates!

He heldcarte blanche, I followed withquatorze.

The roses sweetly smelled, the candles burned,

At peace we were with nature and mankind.—

A crash of painted glass! a whirling stone!

A candle out! the roses all o’erturned!

The thunder of a log against our doors!

A clattering of sabots! a sudden shout!

Morbec, Morbec, it is thy Judgment Night!

Admission, admission, Aristocrats!

Red turns the night, the servants all rush in.

Sieur! Sieur!the lackeys moan and wring their hands.

Give, give!the terrace croaks.Burn, Morbec, burn!

The great bell swings in the windy tower

Till the wolves in the forest pause to hear.

Fall, Morbec, fall! France has no need of thee!

Upsprings a rosy light! a smell of smoke!

Mischief’s afoot! The Baron of Morbec

Lays down his cards and takes his rapier up,

HumsLe Sein de sa Famille, shutsAlzire,

Resignedly rises—

Count Louis(rubbing his hands)

Count Louis(rubbing his hands)

Count Louis(rubbing his hands)

Expresses regretThat monsieur his guest—

Expresses regretThat monsieur his guest—

Expresses regretThat monsieur his guest—

Expresses regret

That monsieur his guest—

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

Should be incommodedAnd turns to the door. I levy the tongs.The seneschal Grégoire hauls from the wallAn ancient arquebus! The lackeys wail,And nothing do, as is the lackey’s wont!Again the peasants thunder at the door!Open, De Vardes! Oh, hated of all names!The new is as the old! Death to De Vardes!The log strikes full, and now a panel breaks;In comes a hand that brandishes a pike;A voice behind,We’ve come to sup with thee!For thou hast bread and we have none, De Vardes!

Should be incommodedAnd turns to the door. I levy the tongs.The seneschal Grégoire hauls from the wallAn ancient arquebus! The lackeys wail,And nothing do, as is the lackey’s wont!Again the peasants thunder at the door!Open, De Vardes! Oh, hated of all names!The new is as the old! Death to De Vardes!The log strikes full, and now a panel breaks;In comes a hand that brandishes a pike;A voice behind,We’ve come to sup with thee!For thou hast bread and we have none, De Vardes!

Should be incommodedAnd turns to the door. I levy the tongs.The seneschal Grégoire hauls from the wallAn ancient arquebus! The lackeys wail,And nothing do, as is the lackey’s wont!Again the peasants thunder at the door!Open, De Vardes! Oh, hated of all names!The new is as the old! Death to De Vardes!The log strikes full, and now a panel breaks;In comes a hand that brandishes a pike;A voice behind,We’ve come to sup with thee!For thou hast bread and we have none, De Vardes!

Should be incommoded

And turns to the door. I levy the tongs.

The seneschal Grégoire hauls from the wall

An ancient arquebus! The lackeys wail,

And nothing do, as is the lackey’s wont!

Again the peasants thunder at the door!

Open, De Vardes! Oh, hated of all names!

The new is as the old! Death to De Vardes!

The log strikes full, and now a panel breaks;

In comes a hand that brandishes a pike;

A voice behind,We’ve come to sup with thee!

For thou hast bread and we have none, De Vardes!

The Englishman

The Englishman

The Englishman

Ha, ha! ha, ha! ha, ha!

Ha, ha! ha, ha! ha, ha!

Ha, ha! ha, ha! ha, ha!

Ha, ha! ha, ha! ha, ha!

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

You laugh, monsieur?

You laugh, monsieur?

You laugh, monsieur?

You laugh, monsieur?

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

I like calmness myself. Calm of the sea,Calm skies, the calm spring, and calmness of mind!A tempest’s plebeian! So I admiredRené de Vardes when he walked to the doorAnd opened it! Behold the whole wolf pack,As lean as ‘twere winter! canaille all!Sans-culottes and tatterdemalions,Mere dust of the field and sand of the shore;Humanity’s shreds would follow the mode,And burn the château of their rightful lord!De Vardes’ peasants in fine.Mort aux tyrans!À bas Aristocrat! Vive la patrie!Vive la Révolution!In they pressed,Gaunt, haggard, and shrill, and full in the front—Young and fair, conceive! dark-eyed and red-lipped—A fury, a mænad, a girl called—

I like calmness myself. Calm of the sea,Calm skies, the calm spring, and calmness of mind!A tempest’s plebeian! So I admiredRené de Vardes when he walked to the doorAnd opened it! Behold the whole wolf pack,As lean as ‘twere winter! canaille all!Sans-culottes and tatterdemalions,Mere dust of the field and sand of the shore;Humanity’s shreds would follow the mode,And burn the château of their rightful lord!De Vardes’ peasants in fine.Mort aux tyrans!À bas Aristocrat! Vive la patrie!Vive la Révolution!In they pressed,Gaunt, haggard, and shrill, and full in the front—Young and fair, conceive! dark-eyed and red-lipped—A fury, a mænad, a girl called—

I like calmness myself. Calm of the sea,Calm skies, the calm spring, and calmness of mind!A tempest’s plebeian! So I admiredRené de Vardes when he walked to the doorAnd opened it! Behold the whole wolf pack,As lean as ‘twere winter! canaille all!Sans-culottes and tatterdemalions,Mere dust of the field and sand of the shore;Humanity’s shreds would follow the mode,And burn the château of their rightful lord!De Vardes’ peasants in fine.Mort aux tyrans!À bas Aristocrat! Vive la patrie!Vive la Révolution!In they pressed,Gaunt, haggard, and shrill, and full in the front—Young and fair, conceive! dark-eyed and red-lipped—A fury, a mænad, a girl called—

I like calmness myself. Calm of the sea,

Calm skies, the calm spring, and calmness of mind!

A tempest’s plebeian! So I admired

René de Vardes when he walked to the door

And opened it! Behold the whole wolf pack,

As lean as ‘twere winter! canaille all!

Sans-culottes and tatterdemalions,

Mere dust of the field and sand of the shore;

Humanity’s shreds would follow the mode,

And burn the château of their rightful lord!

De Vardes’ peasants in fine.Mort aux tyrans!

À bas Aristocrat! Vive la patrie!

Vive la Révolution!In they pressed,

Gaunt, haggard, and shrill, and full in the front—

Young and fair, conceive! dark-eyed and red-lipped—

A fury, a mænad, a girl called—

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

Yvette!

Yvette!

Yvette!

Yvette!

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

So they named her, the peasants of Morbec,Named and applauded the dark-eyed besom!When, De Vardes’ drawn rapier just touchingHer breast-knot of blue as she stood in his path,Up went her brown hand, armed with a sickle!—De Vardes is a known fencer,—‘tis lucky!His wound is not deep, and in the left arm!

So they named her, the peasants of Morbec,Named and applauded the dark-eyed besom!When, De Vardes’ drawn rapier just touchingHer breast-knot of blue as she stood in his path,Up went her brown hand, armed with a sickle!—De Vardes is a known fencer,—‘tis lucky!His wound is not deep, and in the left arm!

So they named her, the peasants of Morbec,Named and applauded the dark-eyed besom!When, De Vardes’ drawn rapier just touchingHer breast-knot of blue as she stood in his path,Up went her brown hand, armed with a sickle!—De Vardes is a known fencer,—‘tis lucky!His wound is not deep, and in the left arm!

So they named her, the peasants of Morbec,

Named and applauded the dark-eyed besom!

When, De Vardes’ drawn rapier just touching

Her breast-knot of blue as she stood in his path,

Up went her brown hand, armed with a sickle!—

De Vardes is a known fencer,—‘tis lucky!

His wound is not deep, and in the left arm!

The Vidame

The Vidame

The Vidame

She may hang for that! How high I forgetThe gallows should be—

She may hang for that! How high I forgetThe gallows should be—

She may hang for that! How high I forgetThe gallows should be—

She may hang for that! How high I forget

The gallows should be—

Count Louis(offering his snuff-box)

Count Louis(offering his snuff-box)

Count Louis(offering his snuff-box)

Monsieur le Vidame,Thirty feet, I believe!

Monsieur le Vidame,Thirty feet, I believe!

Monsieur le Vidame,Thirty feet, I believe!

Monsieur le Vidame,

Thirty feet, I believe!

The Vidame

The Vidame

The Vidame

But not in chains—

But not in chains—

But not in chains—

But not in chains—

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

No! It was the left arm.

No! It was the left arm.

No! It was the left arm.

No! It was the left arm.

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

What did De Vardes?

What did De Vardes?

What did De Vardes?

What did De Vardes?

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

De Vardes, with Liancourt and Rochefoucauld,Holds that the peasant doth possess a soul!I think it hurt him to the heart that he,New come to Morbec, and unknown to these,His vassals of the village, field, and shore,Should be esteemed by them an enemy,A Baron Henri come again, forsooth!But since ‘twas so, out rapier! parry! thrust!Diable! he’s a swordsman to my mind!The mænad with the sickle he puts by;Runs through the arm a clamourer ofcorvée,Brings howling to his knees a sans-culotte,And strikes a flail from out a claw-like hand!They falter, they give way, the craven throng!The women cry them on; they swarm again.His bright steel flashes, rise and fall my tongs!But the lackeys are naught, and Grégoire findsA flaw in his musket; he will not fire!Pardieu!the things this Revolution kills!There is no faithfulness in service now!Our peasants grow bold. Ma foi! we’re at bay!De Vardes and De Barbasan, rapier, tongs!Wild blows and wild cries, blown smoke and a glare,And the girl Yvette with her reaping hookStill pushed to the front by the women there!Upon De Vardes’ white sleeve the blood is dark,And his breath comes fast! I see the eventAs ‘twill look in print in Paris next week,InL’Ami du Peuple or Journal du Roi!“The Vain Defence of an Ancient Château!When we Burn so Much, why not Burn the Land?”And I break with my tongs a young death’s-headThat’s bawling—What think you?—Vive la République.

De Vardes, with Liancourt and Rochefoucauld,Holds that the peasant doth possess a soul!I think it hurt him to the heart that he,New come to Morbec, and unknown to these,His vassals of the village, field, and shore,Should be esteemed by them an enemy,A Baron Henri come again, forsooth!But since ‘twas so, out rapier! parry! thrust!Diable! he’s a swordsman to my mind!The mænad with the sickle he puts by;Runs through the arm a clamourer ofcorvée,Brings howling to his knees a sans-culotte,And strikes a flail from out a claw-like hand!They falter, they give way, the craven throng!The women cry them on; they swarm again.His bright steel flashes, rise and fall my tongs!But the lackeys are naught, and Grégoire findsA flaw in his musket; he will not fire!Pardieu!the things this Revolution kills!There is no faithfulness in service now!Our peasants grow bold. Ma foi! we’re at bay!De Vardes and De Barbasan, rapier, tongs!Wild blows and wild cries, blown smoke and a glare,And the girl Yvette with her reaping hookStill pushed to the front by the women there!Upon De Vardes’ white sleeve the blood is dark,And his breath comes fast! I see the eventAs ‘twill look in print in Paris next week,InL’Ami du Peuple or Journal du Roi!“The Vain Defence of an Ancient Château!When we Burn so Much, why not Burn the Land?”And I break with my tongs a young death’s-headThat’s bawling—What think you?—Vive la République.

De Vardes, with Liancourt and Rochefoucauld,Holds that the peasant doth possess a soul!I think it hurt him to the heart that he,New come to Morbec, and unknown to these,His vassals of the village, field, and shore,Should be esteemed by them an enemy,A Baron Henri come again, forsooth!But since ‘twas so, out rapier! parry! thrust!Diable! he’s a swordsman to my mind!The mænad with the sickle he puts by;Runs through the arm a clamourer ofcorvée,Brings howling to his knees a sans-culotte,And strikes a flail from out a claw-like hand!They falter, they give way, the craven throng!The women cry them on; they swarm again.His bright steel flashes, rise and fall my tongs!But the lackeys are naught, and Grégoire findsA flaw in his musket; he will not fire!Pardieu!the things this Revolution kills!There is no faithfulness in service now!Our peasants grow bold. Ma foi! we’re at bay!De Vardes and De Barbasan, rapier, tongs!Wild blows and wild cries, blown smoke and a glare,And the girl Yvette with her reaping hookStill pushed to the front by the women there!Upon De Vardes’ white sleeve the blood is dark,And his breath comes fast! I see the eventAs ‘twill look in print in Paris next week,InL’Ami du Peuple or Journal du Roi!“The Vain Defence of an Ancient Château!When we Burn so Much, why not Burn the Land?”And I break with my tongs a young death’s-headThat’s bawling—What think you?—Vive la République.

De Vardes, with Liancourt and Rochefoucauld,

Holds that the peasant doth possess a soul!

I think it hurt him to the heart that he,

New come to Morbec, and unknown to these,

His vassals of the village, field, and shore,

Should be esteemed by them an enemy,

A Baron Henri come again, forsooth!

But since ‘twas so, out rapier! parry! thrust!

Diable! he’s a swordsman to my mind!

The mænad with the sickle he puts by;

Runs through the arm a clamourer ofcorvée,

Brings howling to his knees a sans-culotte,

And strikes a flail from out a claw-like hand!

They falter, they give way, the craven throng!

The women cry them on; they swarm again.

His bright steel flashes, rise and fall my tongs!

But the lackeys are naught, and Grégoire finds

A flaw in his musket; he will not fire!

Pardieu!the things this Revolution kills!

There is no faithfulness in service now!

Our peasants grow bold. Ma foi! we’re at bay!

De Vardes and De Barbasan, rapier, tongs!

Wild blows and wild cries, blown smoke and a glare,

And the girl Yvette with her reaping hook

Still pushed to the front by the women there!

Upon De Vardes’ white sleeve the blood is dark,

And his breath comes fast! I see the event

As ‘twill look in print in Paris next week,

InL’Ami du Peuple or Journal du Roi!

“The Vain Defence of an Ancient Château!

When we Burn so Much, why not Burn the Land?”

And I break with my tongs a young death’s-head

That’s bawling—What think you?—Vive la République.

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

Death and damnation!

Death and damnation!

Death and damnation!

Death and damnation!

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

So I said! And then,Quite, I assure you, in time’s very nick,The saint De Vardes prays to smiled on him!A thunder clap!—Pas de charge! En avant!Captain Fauquemont de Buc and his Hussars!

So I said! And then,Quite, I assure you, in time’s very nick,The saint De Vardes prays to smiled on him!A thunder clap!—Pas de charge! En avant!Captain Fauquemont de Buc and his Hussars!

So I said! And then,Quite, I assure you, in time’s very nick,The saint De Vardes prays to smiled on him!A thunder clap!—Pas de charge! En avant!Captain Fauquemont de Buc and his Hussars!

So I said! And then,

Quite, I assure you, in time’s very nick,

The saint De Vardes prays to smiled on him!

A thunder clap!—Pas de charge! En avant!

Captain Fauquemont de Buc and his Hussars!

De Buc

De Buc

De Buc

Warned by the saint, we galloped from Auray!

Warned by the saint, we galloped from Auray!

Warned by the saint, we galloped from Auray!

Warned by the saint, we galloped from Auray!

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

Like the dead leaves borne afar on the blast,Or like the sea mist when the sun rises,Or like the red deer when the horn’s sounded,—Like anything in short that’s light o’ heel,—Vanished our peasants! The women went last;And last of all the mænad with the eyes!Jesu! She might have been Jeanne d’Arc, that girl!The man who captures her has a hand full!—To the deep woods they fled, are hunted now.—De Vardes and I gave welcome to De Buc,Put out the fire, attended to our wounds,Resumed our cards, and finished ourAlzire—The Château of Morbec stands, you observe!

Like the dead leaves borne afar on the blast,Or like the sea mist when the sun rises,Or like the red deer when the horn’s sounded,—Like anything in short that’s light o’ heel,—Vanished our peasants! The women went last;And last of all the mænad with the eyes!Jesu! She might have been Jeanne d’Arc, that girl!The man who captures her has a hand full!—To the deep woods they fled, are hunted now.—De Vardes and I gave welcome to De Buc,Put out the fire, attended to our wounds,Resumed our cards, and finished ourAlzire—The Château of Morbec stands, you observe!

Like the dead leaves borne afar on the blast,Or like the sea mist when the sun rises,Or like the red deer when the horn’s sounded,—Like anything in short that’s light o’ heel,—Vanished our peasants! The women went last;And last of all the mænad with the eyes!Jesu! She might have been Jeanne d’Arc, that girl!The man who captures her has a hand full!—To the deep woods they fled, are hunted now.—De Vardes and I gave welcome to De Buc,Put out the fire, attended to our wounds,Resumed our cards, and finished ourAlzire—The Château of Morbec stands, you observe!

Like the dead leaves borne afar on the blast,

Or like the sea mist when the sun rises,

Or like the red deer when the horn’s sounded,—

Like anything in short that’s light o’ heel,—

Vanished our peasants! The women went last;

And last of all the mænad with the eyes!

Jesu! She might have been Jeanne d’Arc, that girl!

The man who captures her has a hand full!—

To the deep woods they fled, are hunted now.—

De Vardes and I gave welcome to De Buc,

Put out the fire, attended to our wounds,

Resumed our cards, and finished ourAlzire—

The Château of Morbec stands, you observe!

[The company applauds.

[The company applauds.

[The company applauds.

[The company applauds.

Mlle. de Château-Gui

Mlle. de Château-Gui

Mlle. de Château-Gui

But who was the saint?—

But who was the saint?—

But who was the saint?—

But who was the saint?—

De Buc

De Buc

De Buc

Ah, here is De Vardes!

Ah, here is De Vardes!

Ah, here is De Vardes!

Ah, here is De Vardes!

EnterDe Vardes.He is dressed in slight mourning andcarries his arm in a sling.

EnterDe Vardes.He is dressed in slight mourning andcarries his arm in a sling.

EnterDe Vardes.He is dressed in slight mourning and

carries his arm in a sling.

The Guests

The Guests

The Guests

Monsieur the Baron of Morbec!

Monsieur the Baron of Morbec!

Monsieur the Baron of Morbec!

Monsieur the Baron of Morbec!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Welcome,The brave and the fair, my old friends and new!Welcome to Morbec!

Welcome,The brave and the fair, my old friends and new!Welcome to Morbec!

Welcome,The brave and the fair, my old friends and new!Welcome to Morbec!

Welcome,

The brave and the fair, my old friends and new!

Welcome to Morbec!

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

Ah, your wounded arm!—Our regret is profound!

Ah, your wounded arm!—Our regret is profound!

Ah, your wounded arm!—Our regret is profound!

Ah, your wounded arm!—

Our regret is profound!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

It is nothing.The fraternal embrace of the people!

It is nothing.The fraternal embrace of the people!

It is nothing.The fraternal embrace of the people!

It is nothing.

The fraternal embrace of the people!

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

Oh, the people!

Oh, the people!

Oh, the people!

Oh, the people!

Mme. de Vaucourt

Mme. de Vaucourt

Mme. de Vaucourt

The people!

The people!

The people!

The people!

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

The people!

The people!

The people!

The people!

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

My friend, permit us to hope you will makeOf the people a signal example!

My friend, permit us to hope you will makeOf the people a signal example!

My friend, permit us to hope you will makeOf the people a signal example!

My friend, permit us to hope you will make

Of the people a signal example!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

They are misguided.

They are misguided.

They are misguided.

They are misguided.

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

Misguided! Morbleu!

Misguided! Morbleu!

Misguided! Morbleu!

Misguided! Morbleu!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

I will talk to them.

I will talk to them.

I will talk to them.

I will talk to them.

Count Louis

Count Louis

Count Louis

Monsieur le Baron,Let your soldiers talk with a bayonet’s point,Your bailiffs with a rope—

Monsieur le Baron,Let your soldiers talk with a bayonet’s point,Your bailiffs with a rope—

Monsieur le Baron,Let your soldiers talk with a bayonet’s point,Your bailiffs with a rope—

Monsieur le Baron,

Let your soldiers talk with a bayonet’s point,

Your bailiffs with a rope—

Mme. de Vaucourt

Mme. de Vaucourt

Mme. de Vaucourt

But what good saintBrought warning to Auray?

But what good saintBrought warning to Auray?

But what good saintBrought warning to Auray?

But what good saint

Brought warning to Auray?

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

I guess that saint!

I guess that saint!

I guess that saint!

I guess that saint!

[A lackey appears upon the terrace.

[A lackey appears upon the terrace.

[A lackey appears upon the terrace.

[A lackey appears upon the terrace.

The Lackey

The Lackey

The Lackey

Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret!

Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret!

Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret!

Madame la Marquise de Blanchefôret!

The Guests

The Guests

The Guests

Ah!La belle marquise!

Ah!La belle marquise!

Ah!La belle marquise!

Ah!

La belle marquise!

EnterThe Marquise.

EnterThe Marquise.

EnterThe Marquise.

De Buc

De Buc

De Buc

The saint!

The saint!

The saint!

The saint!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

My neighbour fair,And to De Barbasan and me last nightA guardian angel—

My neighbour fair,And to De Barbasan and me last nightA guardian angel—

My neighbour fair,And to De Barbasan and me last nightA guardian angel—

My neighbour fair,

And to De Barbasan and me last night

A guardian angel—

[He greetsThe Marquise.

[He greetsThe Marquise.

[He greetsThe Marquise.

[He greetsThe Marquise.

Madame la Marquise!

Madame la Marquise!

Madame la Marquise!

Madame la Marquise!

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

Monsieur le Baron!(To the company.) Messieurs, mesdames!

Monsieur le Baron!(To the company.) Messieurs, mesdames!

Monsieur le Baron!(To the company.) Messieurs, mesdames!

Monsieur le Baron!

(To the company.) Messieurs, mesdames!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

From Blanchefôret to Auray through the nightThis lady rode—

From Blanchefôret to Auray through the nightThis lady rode—

From Blanchefôret to Auray through the nightThis lady rode—

From Blanchefôret to Auray through the night

This lady rode—

The Marquise(with gayety)

The Marquise(with gayety)

The Marquise(with gayety)

Ah, how I rode last night,To Auray through the dark! This way it was:I overheard two peasants yestereveAs in a lane I sought for eglantine.“How long hath Morbec stood?” said one. “Too long!But when to-morrow dawns ‘twill not be there!And we were born, I think, to burn châteaux!—Ten, by the village clock—forget it not!”

Ah, how I rode last night,To Auray through the dark! This way it was:I overheard two peasants yestereveAs in a lane I sought for eglantine.“How long hath Morbec stood?” said one. “Too long!But when to-morrow dawns ‘twill not be there!And we were born, I think, to burn châteaux!—Ten, by the village clock—forget it not!”

Ah, how I rode last night,To Auray through the dark! This way it was:I overheard two peasants yestereveAs in a lane I sought for eglantine.“How long hath Morbec stood?” said one. “Too long!But when to-morrow dawns ‘twill not be there!And we were born, I think, to burn châteaux!—Ten, by the village clock—forget it not!”

Ah, how I rode last night,

To Auray through the dark! This way it was:

I overheard two peasants yestereve

As in a lane I sought for eglantine.

“How long hath Morbec stood?” said one. “Too long!

But when to-morrow dawns ‘twill not be there!

And we were born, I think, to burn châteaux!—

Ten, by the village clock—forget it not!”

The Abbé

The Abbé

The Abbé

Ah, ay, the while I dealt the clock struck ten.

Ah, ay, the while I dealt the clock struck ten.

Ah, ay, the while I dealt the clock struck ten.

Ah, ay, the while I dealt the clock struck ten.

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

It was already dusk.—Like grey death mothsThey slipped away! I knew not whom to trust,For in these times there’s no fidelity,No faithful groom, no steadfast messenger!My little page brought me my Zuleika.I knew the red Hussars were at Auray,And that ‘twas said they loved their colonel well!So to Auray came Zuleika and I!

It was already dusk.—Like grey death mothsThey slipped away! I knew not whom to trust,For in these times there’s no fidelity,No faithful groom, no steadfast messenger!My little page brought me my Zuleika.I knew the red Hussars were at Auray,And that ‘twas said they loved their colonel well!So to Auray came Zuleika and I!

It was already dusk.—Like grey death mothsThey slipped away! I knew not whom to trust,For in these times there’s no fidelity,No faithful groom, no steadfast messenger!My little page brought me my Zuleika.I knew the red Hussars were at Auray,And that ‘twas said they loved their colonel well!So to Auray came Zuleika and I!

It was already dusk.—Like grey death moths

They slipped away! I knew not whom to trust,

For in these times there’s no fidelity,

No faithful groom, no steadfast messenger!

My little page brought me my Zuleika.

I knew the red Hussars were at Auray,

And that ‘twas said they loved their colonel well!

So to Auray came Zuleika and I!

De Buc

De Buc

De Buc

We thought it was Dian in huntress dress!

We thought it was Dian in huntress dress!

We thought it was Dian in huntress dress!

We thought it was Dian in huntress dress!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

How deeply am I, Goddess, in thy debt!No gold is coined wherewith I may repay!

How deeply am I, Goddess, in thy debt!No gold is coined wherewith I may repay!

How deeply am I, Goddess, in thy debt!No gold is coined wherewith I may repay!

How deeply am I, Goddess, in thy debt!

No gold is coined wherewith I may repay!

[Music within.

[Music within.

[Music within.

[Music within.

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

Give me a rose from yonder tree!

Give me a rose from yonder tree!

Give me a rose from yonder tree!

Give me a rose from yonder tree!

[Laughing voices within.

[Laughing voices within.

[Laughing voices within.

[Laughing voices within.

Mlle. de Château-Gui

Mlle. de Château-Gui

Mlle. de Château-Gui

More guests,They’re on the south terrace!

More guests,They’re on the south terrace!

More guests,They’re on the south terrace!

More guests,

They’re on the south terrace!

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

De L’Orient

Violins too!Ah, the old air—

Violins too!Ah, the old air—

Violins too!Ah, the old air—

Violins too!

Ah, the old air—

[He sings.

[He sings.

[He sings.

[He sings.

There lived a king in Ys,In Ys the city old!Beside the sounding seaHe counted o’er his gold.

There lived a king in Ys,In Ys the city old!Beside the sounding seaHe counted o’er his gold.

There lived a king in Ys,In Ys the city old!Beside the sounding seaHe counted o’er his gold.

There lived a king in Ys,

In Ys the city old!

Beside the sounding sea

He counted o’er his gold.

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Let us meet them.

Let us meet them.

Let us meet them.

Let us meet them.

[He gives his hand toThe Marquise.ExeuntCount Louis,The Abbé,De Buc,De L’Orient,etc.GrégoireapproachesDe Vardes.

[He gives his hand toThe Marquise.ExeuntCount Louis,The Abbé,De Buc,De L’Orient,etc.GrégoireapproachesDe Vardes.

[He gives his hand toThe Marquise.ExeuntCount Louis,The Abbé,De Buc,De L’Orient,etc.GrégoireapproachesDe Vardes.

[He gives his hand toThe Marquise.Exeunt

Count Louis,The Abbé,De Buc,De L’Orient,

etc.GrégoireapproachesDe Vardes.

Grégoire

Grégoire

Grégoire

Monseigneur—Monsieur the Deputy!

Monseigneur—Monsieur the Deputy!

Monseigneur—Monsieur the Deputy!

Monseigneur—Monsieur the Deputy!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Ah!Say to monsieur I’m not at leisure now.

Ah!Say to monsieur I’m not at leisure now.

Ah!Say to monsieur I’m not at leisure now.

Ah!

Say to monsieur I’m not at leisure now.

[ExeuntDe VardesandThe Marquise.Theterrace and garden are deserted save forGrégoire,who seats himself in the shadow of the balustrade.

[ExeuntDe VardesandThe Marquise.Theterrace and garden are deserted save forGrégoire,who seats himself in the shadow of the balustrade.

[ExeuntDe VardesandThe Marquise.Theterrace and garden are deserted save forGrégoire,who seats himself in the shadow of the balustrade.

[ExeuntDe VardesandThe Marquise.The

terrace and garden are deserted save forGrégoire,

who seats himself in the shadow of the balustrade.

Grégoire

Grégoire

Grégoire

Humph!—Monseigneur’s not at leisure.

Humph!—Monseigneur’s not at leisure.

Humph!—Monseigneur’s not at leisure.

Humph!—Monseigneur’s not at leisure.

[He draws a Paris journal from his pocket andreads, following the letters with his forefinger.

[He draws a Paris journal from his pocket andreads, following the letters with his forefinger.

[He draws a Paris journal from his pocket andreads, following the letters with his forefinger.

[He draws a Paris journal from his pocket and

reads, following the letters with his forefinger.

What news?What says Jean Paul Marat, the People’s Friend?

What news?What says Jean Paul Marat, the People’s Friend?

What news?What says Jean Paul Marat, the People’s Friend?

What news?

What says Jean Paul Marat, the People’s Friend?

[A cry from the wood and the sound of breakingboughs.YvetteandSéraphineenter the garden.Raôul the Huntsman’svoice within.

[A cry from the wood and the sound of breakingboughs.YvetteandSéraphineenter the garden.Raôul the Huntsman’svoice within.

[A cry from the wood and the sound of breakingboughs.YvetteandSéraphineenter the garden.Raôul the Huntsman’svoice within.

[A cry from the wood and the sound of breaking

boughs.YvetteandSéraphineenter the garden.

Raôul the Huntsman’svoice within.

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

Hilloa!—Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!—Hilloa!

[YvetteandSéraphineturn towards one of thegarden alleys. Laughter and voices.

[YvetteandSéraphineturn towards one of thegarden alleys. Laughter and voices.

[YvetteandSéraphineturn towards one of thegarden alleys. Laughter and voices.

[YvetteandSéraphineturn towards one of the

garden alleys. Laughter and voices.

Yvette

Yvette

Yvette

Go not that way!

Go not that way!

Go not that way!

Go not that way!

Séraphine

Séraphine

Séraphine

There is no way!

There is no way!

There is no way!

There is no way!

The Huntsman(within)

The Huntsman(within)

The Huntsman(within)

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Séraphine

Séraphine

Séraphine

We’re caught!

We’re caught!

We’re caught!

We’re caught!

Yvette

Yvette

Yvette

The terrace there! Behind the stone woman!

The terrace there! Behind the stone woman!

The terrace there! Behind the stone woman!

The terrace there! Behind the stone woman!

[They cross the garden to the terrace.

[They cross the garden to the terrace.

[They cross the garden to the terrace.

[They cross the garden to the terrace.

Séraphine(She stops abruptly and points to the table)

Séraphine(She stops abruptly and points to the table)

Séraphine(She stops abruptly and points to the table)

Bread!

Bread!

Bread!

Bread!

The Huntsman(nearer)

The Huntsman(nearer)

The Huntsman(nearer)

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

Hilloa!—Hilloa!

[YvetteandSéraphineturn from the table andhide behind the tall, ivy-draped pedestal of thestatue.Grégoirelooks up from his paper and seesthem.

[YvetteandSéraphineturn from the table andhide behind the tall, ivy-draped pedestal of thestatue.Grégoirelooks up from his paper and seesthem.

[YvetteandSéraphineturn from the table andhide behind the tall, ivy-draped pedestal of thestatue.Grégoirelooks up from his paper and seesthem.

[YvetteandSéraphineturn from the table and

hide behind the tall, ivy-draped pedestal of the

statue.Grégoirelooks up from his paper and sees

them.

EnterRaôul the Huntsman.

EnterRaôul the Huntsman.

EnterRaôul the Huntsman.

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

This way they came!

This way they came!

This way they came!

This way they came!

Grégoire(jerking his thumb over his shoulder)

Grégoire(jerking his thumb over his shoulder)

Grégoire(jerking his thumb over his shoulder)

Down yonder path!—plump to the woods again!

Down yonder path!—plump to the woods again!

Down yonder path!—plump to the woods again!

Down yonder path!—plump to the woods again!

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

The Hussars from Auray have twenty rogues!

The Hussars from Auray have twenty rogues!

The Hussars from Auray have twenty rogues!

The Hussars from Auray have twenty rogues!

Grégoire

Grégoire

Grégoire

Indeed!

Indeed!

Indeed!

Indeed!

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

The Huntsman

These two and my bag’s full!

These two and my bag’s full!

These two and my bag’s full!

These two and my bag’s full!

[ExitThe Huntsman.

[ExitThe Huntsman.

[ExitThe Huntsman.

[ExitThe Huntsman.

Grégoire

Grégoire

Grégoire

Diable!

Diable!

Diable!

Diable!

[He reads aloud.

[He reads aloud.

[He reads aloud.

[He reads aloud.

Weary at last of intolerable wrong,The peasants of Goy in Normandy roseAnd burned the château. Who questions their right?

Weary at last of intolerable wrong,The peasants of Goy in Normandy roseAnd burned the château. Who questions their right?

Weary at last of intolerable wrong,The peasants of Goy in Normandy roseAnd burned the château. Who questions their right?

Weary at last of intolerable wrong,

The peasants of Goy in Normandy rose

And burned the château. Who questions their right?

[He folds his paper.

[He folds his paper.

[He folds his paper.

[He folds his paper.

Saint Yves! this stone is much harder than Goy!

Saint Yves! this stone is much harder than Goy!

Saint Yves! this stone is much harder than Goy!

Saint Yves! this stone is much harder than Goy!

[He looks fixedly at the statue and raises his voice.

[He looks fixedly at the statue and raises his voice.

[He looks fixedly at the statue and raises his voice.

[He looks fixedly at the statue and raises his voice.

Ma’m’selle who would smile at the trump of doom,I think that all the village will be hanged!And at its head that brown young witch they callYvette—

Ma’m’selle who would smile at the trump of doom,I think that all the village will be hanged!And at its head that brown young witch they callYvette—

Ma’m’selle who would smile at the trump of doom,I think that all the village will be hanged!And at its head that brown young witch they callYvette—

Ma’m’selle who would smile at the trump of doom,

I think that all the village will be hanged!

And at its head that brown young witch they call

Yvette—

ReënterDe VardesandThe Marquise.

ReënterDe VardesandThe Marquise.

ReënterDe VardesandThe Marquise.

De Vardes(toGrégoire)

De Vardes(toGrégoire)

De Vardes(toGrégoire)

Begone!

Begone!

Begone!

Begone!

[ExitGrégoire.De VardesandThe Marquiserest beside the statue,Yvettelistening.

[ExitGrégoire.De VardesandThe Marquiserest beside the statue,Yvettelistening.

[ExitGrégoire.De VardesandThe Marquiserest beside the statue,Yvettelistening.

[ExitGrégoire.De VardesandThe Marquise

rest beside the statue,Yvettelistening.

Why, what’s a soldier for?But pity me, pity me, belle Marquise!Since pity is so sweet!

Why, what’s a soldier for?But pity me, pity me, belle Marquise!Since pity is so sweet!

Why, what’s a soldier for?But pity me, pity me, belle Marquise!Since pity is so sweet!

Why, what’s a soldier for?

But pity me, pity me, belle Marquise!

Since pity is so sweet!

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

I’m sure it isA fearful wound!

I’m sure it isA fearful wound!

I’m sure it isA fearful wound!

I’m sure it is

A fearful wound!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

A fearful wound indeed!But ‘tis not in the arm!

A fearful wound indeed!But ‘tis not in the arm!

A fearful wound indeed!But ‘tis not in the arm!

A fearful wound indeed!

But ‘tis not in the arm!

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

No, monsieur?

No, monsieur?

No, monsieur?

No, monsieur?

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

No!The heart! I swear that it is bleeding fast!And I have naught wherewith to stanch the wound.Your kerchief—

No!The heart! I swear that it is bleeding fast!And I have naught wherewith to stanch the wound.Your kerchief—

No!The heart! I swear that it is bleeding fast!And I have naught wherewith to stanch the wound.Your kerchief—

No!

The heart! I swear that it is bleeding fast!

And I have naught wherewith to stanch the wound.

Your kerchief—

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

Just a piece of lace!

Just a piece of lace!

Just a piece of lace!

Just a piece of lace!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

‘Twill serve.

‘Twill serve.

‘Twill serve.

‘Twill serve.

The Marquise(giving her handkerchief)

The Marquise(giving her handkerchief)

The Marquise(giving her handkerchief)

Well, there!—Now tell me of last night.

Well, there!—Now tell me of last night.

Well, there!—Now tell me of last night.

Well, there!—Now tell me of last night.

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Last night!Why, all this tintamarre was but a dream,Fanfare of fairy trumpets while we slept.A night it was for love-in-idleness,And fragrant thoughts and airy phantasy!There was no moon, but Venus shone as bright;The honeysuckle blew its tiny hornTo tell the rose a moth was coming by.Clarice-Marie!sang all the nightingales,Or would have sung were nightingales abroad!Hush, hush!the little waves kept whispering.The ivy at your window still was peeping;You lay in dreams, that gold curl on your breast!

Last night!Why, all this tintamarre was but a dream,Fanfare of fairy trumpets while we slept.A night it was for love-in-idleness,And fragrant thoughts and airy phantasy!There was no moon, but Venus shone as bright;The honeysuckle blew its tiny hornTo tell the rose a moth was coming by.Clarice-Marie!sang all the nightingales,Or would have sung were nightingales abroad!Hush, hush!the little waves kept whispering.The ivy at your window still was peeping;You lay in dreams, that gold curl on your breast!

Last night!Why, all this tintamarre was but a dream,Fanfare of fairy trumpets while we slept.A night it was for love-in-idleness,And fragrant thoughts and airy phantasy!There was no moon, but Venus shone as bright;The honeysuckle blew its tiny hornTo tell the rose a moth was coming by.Clarice-Marie!sang all the nightingales,Or would have sung were nightingales abroad!Hush, hush!the little waves kept whispering.The ivy at your window still was peeping;You lay in dreams, that gold curl on your breast!

Last night!

Why, all this tintamarre was but a dream,

Fanfare of fairy trumpets while we slept.

A night it was for love-in-idleness,

And fragrant thoughts and airy phantasy!

There was no moon, but Venus shone as bright;

The honeysuckle blew its tiny horn

To tell the rose a moth was coming by.

Clarice-Marie!sang all the nightingales,

Or would have sung were nightingales abroad!

Hush, hush!the little waves kept whispering.

The ivy at your window still was peeping;

You lay in dreams, that gold curl on your breast!

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

No, no! You cheat me not, monsieur! Last nightI did not sleep!

No, no! You cheat me not, monsieur! Last nightI did not sleep!

No, no! You cheat me not, monsieur! Last nightI did not sleep!

No, no! You cheat me not, monsieur! Last night

I did not sleep!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Nor I!

Nor I!

Nor I!

Nor I!

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

Miserable brigands!

Miserable brigands!

Miserable brigands!

Miserable brigands!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

No, not brigands! Just wretched flesh and blood.

No, not brigands! Just wretched flesh and blood.

No, not brigands! Just wretched flesh and blood.

No, not brigands! Just wretched flesh and blood.

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

You pity them?

You pity them?

You pity them?

You pity them?

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Ay.

Ay.

Ay.

Ay.

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

Were I a seigneur,Lord of Morbec—

Were I a seigneur,Lord of Morbec—

Were I a seigneur,Lord of Morbec—

Were I a seigneur,

Lord of Morbec—

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Were I a poor fisher,Sailing at sunrise home from the islands,Over the sea, and all my heart singing!And you were a herd girl slender and sweet,With the gold of your hair beneath your cap,And you kept the cows and you were mydouce,And you waved your hand from the green cliff headWhen the sun and I came up from the sea!—And there was a seigneur so great and grimWho walked in his garden and said aloud,“How many fish has he taken for me?Which of her cows shall I keep for myself?I leave him enough to pay for the MassThe day he is drowned, and the girl shall haveThe range of the hills for her one poor cow!Why should the fisher fret, the herd girl weep?There is no reason in a serf’s dull heart!I might have taken all. It is my right!”La belle Marquise, what would the herd girl do?And should the fisher suffer and say naught?

Were I a poor fisher,Sailing at sunrise home from the islands,Over the sea, and all my heart singing!And you were a herd girl slender and sweet,With the gold of your hair beneath your cap,And you kept the cows and you were mydouce,And you waved your hand from the green cliff headWhen the sun and I came up from the sea!—And there was a seigneur so great and grimWho walked in his garden and said aloud,“How many fish has he taken for me?Which of her cows shall I keep for myself?I leave him enough to pay for the MassThe day he is drowned, and the girl shall haveThe range of the hills for her one poor cow!Why should the fisher fret, the herd girl weep?There is no reason in a serf’s dull heart!I might have taken all. It is my right!”La belle Marquise, what would the herd girl do?And should the fisher suffer and say naught?

Were I a poor fisher,Sailing at sunrise home from the islands,Over the sea, and all my heart singing!And you were a herd girl slender and sweet,With the gold of your hair beneath your cap,And you kept the cows and you were mydouce,And you waved your hand from the green cliff headWhen the sun and I came up from the sea!—And there was a seigneur so great and grimWho walked in his garden and said aloud,“How many fish has he taken for me?Which of her cows shall I keep for myself?I leave him enough to pay for the MassThe day he is drowned, and the girl shall haveThe range of the hills for her one poor cow!Why should the fisher fret, the herd girl weep?There is no reason in a serf’s dull heart!I might have taken all. It is my right!”La belle Marquise, what would the herd girl do?And should the fisher suffer and say naught?

Were I a poor fisher,

Sailing at sunrise home from the islands,

Over the sea, and all my heart singing!

And you were a herd girl slender and sweet,

With the gold of your hair beneath your cap,

And you kept the cows and you were mydouce,

And you waved your hand from the green cliff head

When the sun and I came up from the sea!—

And there was a seigneur so great and grim

Who walked in his garden and said aloud,

“How many fish has he taken for me?

Which of her cows shall I keep for myself?

I leave him enough to pay for the Mass

The day he is drowned, and the girl shall have

The range of the hills for her one poor cow!

Why should the fisher fret, the herd girl weep?

There is no reason in a serf’s dull heart!

I might have taken all. It is my right!”

La belle Marquise, what would the herd girl do?

And should the fisher suffer and say naught?

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

There is no fisher nor no herd girl here.How fair the roses of Morbec, monsieur!

There is no fisher nor no herd girl here.How fair the roses of Morbec, monsieur!

There is no fisher nor no herd girl here.How fair the roses of Morbec, monsieur!

There is no fisher nor no herd girl here.

How fair the roses of Morbec, monsieur!

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

Ay, they are lovely queens. They know it too!I better like the heartsease at your feet.

Ay, they are lovely queens. They know it too!I better like the heartsease at your feet.

Ay, they are lovely queens. They know it too!I better like the heartsease at your feet.

Ay, they are lovely queens. They know it too!

I better like the heartsease at your feet.

The Marquise

The Marquise

The Marquise

It is a peasant flower!—Sieur de Morbec,Have you never loved?

It is a peasant flower!—Sieur de Morbec,Have you never loved?

It is a peasant flower!—Sieur de Morbec,Have you never loved?

It is a peasant flower!—Sieur de Morbec,

Have you never loved?

De Vardes

De Vardes

De Vardes

How fair is the day!For loving how fit! ‘Tis the Eve of Saint John.

How fair is the day!For loving how fit! ‘Tis the Eve of Saint John.

How fair is the day!For loving how fit! ‘Tis the Eve of Saint John.

How fair is the day!

For loving how fit! ‘Tis the Eve of Saint John.

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