  The garden of the Convent of the Visitation at Nantes. Long lines of fruit trees which appear to sleep in the sunshine. In the middle of the garden a stone fountain, where rises and falls a little jet of water. To the left the white buildings of the convent; in the background, between the convent and the street, a high garden wall, the tops of trees, and the roof and spire of a church. There is a barred door in the wall. The doors and windows of the convent parlour giving upon the garden are open. It is the summer of 1792. A nun appears for a moment at the door of the convent, then vanishes, and De Vardes and Yvette enter the garden. De Vardes What hast thou learned to-day? Yvette In history: The battles of Rossbach and of Minden! The Peace of Paris— De Vardes Indeed! Yvette Philosophy: Man is born free—but who will break his chains? It is a question truly! Yvette Theology: God is the father of us all—and yet I think I know how feels an orphan child! De Vardes Defeat of France, Rousseau, and Modern Doubt! And hast thou learnt all this in convent walls? Yvette No! De Vardes They are good to thee, the Sisters all? Yvette Monseigneur, yes! De Vardes When I did place thee here After that day thou didst not burn Morbec! I gave the Reverend Mother straitest charge,— This convent oweth much to the De Vardes. They have enriched it oft, and it in turn Refuge hath given unto noble dames. Oft did she sit beside the fountain there, That Duchess Jeanne whose look thou wearest now! Yvette Oh!— De Vardes How mournfully thou sighest! Yet Thou’rt well, and thou art happy, art thou not? Yvette There is no hunger here, no cold, no care! I ever wished to learn and here I learn, Here where the Duchess Jeanne did sit forlorn,— And then I pray within the chapel there, And then I count the stars as they are lit,— And then I think of all the lights of Nantes! De Vardes It hath been many days I’ve been away, To Morbec and to Vannes and to VitrÉ. Yvette I thought that thou wouldst never come again! De Vardes Didst think the night had ceased to long for day? Didst think the tide no more obeyed the moon? The reed no longer bowed unto the wind? Yvette Ah, do not jest!—There’s blood upon thy coat! De Vardes ‘Tis nothing!—We have had hard words to-day, My men and I! [He gazes around at the quiet garden. O holy peace! O balm! O green and sunny quietude! Outside There’s tumult, heat, confusion, enmity! Here is a haven, here ‘tis blissful sweet! [They sit upon the marge of the fountain. With troubled eyes men question destiny! Outside I front the storm as best I may, But here is anchorage profound and fair— There fruit trees drifting bloom, this fountain marge! Yvette I better love the wild and desolate shore! De Vardes What is that ribbon closed within thy hand? [Yvette opens her hand and shows a ribbon cockade. The tricolour! Yvette Wilt thou not wear it? De Vardes No! Yvette It was my favour—Fare you well, monsieur! De Vardes I might not wear that ribbon, no, not if It were thy favour truly, Vivien! Ah, when will cease this discord of our minds? Wilt thou forever be a Jacobin? [A distant bugle, followed by a roll of drums and martial music. Yvette Aux armes, Citoyens! Formez vos bataillons! Where learned’st thou the Marseillaise? Yvette ‘Tis in the air! Oh, on these moonlight nights I dream of France and how he spoke to me Of all the wrongs of France we should redress! De Vardes Who spoke to thee? Yvette RÉmond Lalain. De Vardes RÉmond Lalain was once my closest friend. He travels now a dark and winding way! Yvette Where is she now, that lady bright and fair Who’s named La Belle Marquise in Morbihan? De Vardes She is in Nantes. Yvette Ah!—Is she not fair? De Vardes Most fair. Yvette And nobly born? De Vardes And nobly born. Alas! Enter Sister Benedicta. Sister Benedicta Monsieur le Baron de Morbec,— A courier, in haste, foam-flecked and spent, Demands to speak with you. De Vardes What tidings now? Ill news like ravens to a cumbered field! I come, my Sister! (To Yvette.) I’ll return. [Exeunt De Vardes and Sister Benedicta. Yvette Alas! She is in Nantes! He sees her every day. What is this pain that’s tearing at my heart? [Laughing voices of young girls. Enter from the convent Sister Fidelis and Sister Simplicia with a cluster of young girls, pupils of the nuns or refugees from Royalist families. They seat themselves upon the wide steps of the fountain. Yvette leans against the basin and plays in the water with her hand. A Young Girl (to Yvette) We’re telling stories! Another Finish thine, Louise! ‘Tis told. The beau prince wed the belle princesse, And they lived happily ever after! A Young Girl Whose turn now? Another Tell us a story, Yvette! Yvette (turning from the fountain) Beneath the halfway tree, ‘Tween Josselin and Pontivy, Suddenly, out of the dark, I heard a grey wolf bark! HoÉe! HoÉe! HoÉe! The snow was on the ground, The shadows all around, Laid a finger on my lip, As I stood, hand on hip, Listening the grey wolf bark. HoÉe! HoÉe! HoÉe! Beneath the halfway tree, ‘Tween Josselin and Pontivy! A little child came by. “Yvette, the wolf is nigh! Yvette, take thou me up, I’ve neither bite nor sup!” HoÉe! HoÉe! HoÉe! The child came to my arm. He was so fair and warm! I kept him safe from harm! HoÉe! HoÉe! HoÉe! A light grew round his head, I felt all cheered and fed. “Yvette, have thou no fear! Who giveth aid, to me is dear!” HoÉe! HoÉe! HoÉe! The child no longer pressed, White snow lay on my breast! The grey wolf ran away, HoÉe! HoÉe! HoÉe! There broke a splendid day, Beneath the halfway tree, ‘Tween Josselin and Pontivy! Sister Fidelis A miracle? Yvette I do not know. A Young Girl I liked best The beau prince and the belle princesse. Another Girl Oh, Thou’rt an Aristocrat! [The young girls return to their embroidery. Yvette plays in the water of the fountain with her hand. Gold fish, gold fish, How are the fish of Quiberon? A Young Girl Were I A fairy prince, then my princess should be Madame la Marquise de BlanchefÔret! Another If I Were a princess, I would have for my prince Monsieur le Baron de Morbec. [Yvette turns from the fountain. A Third Girl They say That in all France there’s none more brave than he! And far and near she’s called La Belle Marquise! A little while and there’ll a wedding be! The First But then, the poor Yvette! He is, you know, Her prince! [They laugh. Yvette Oh, mockery! Sister Fidelis Hush, children, hush! Monsieur le Baron is her benefactor! Sister Simplicia He plucked her from the dreadful world outside! He placed her here beneath Our Lady’s care. Sister Simplicia In everything he is her truest friend! Sister Fidelis But for his condescension, ah, who knows What in these fearful days might be her lot! Here in this fold she’s safe. Yvette (aside) Alas! alas! A Young Girl Oh, she is fairer than the fairy queen! Clarice de Miramand and BlanchefÔret! Yvette (aside) Is she so fair? Is she so fair indeed? I broke her fan—now she will break my heart! A Young Girl He is a knight like Lancelot! Yvette Oh me! She is the Queen, she is that Guinevere! [Distant music. The noise of footsteps and voices in the street beyond the wall. A Young Girl Oh, outside the wall what is there passing? We have nothing to do with outside the wall. A Young Girl (indicating the door in the wall) Might we open the door a little way? Sister Fidelis The blessed saints forbid! [From the street are heard the drums and fifes of passing National troops. The bayonets of the soldiers are visible above the wall. Voices (in the street) Allons, enfants de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrivÉ! A Young Girl Oh, soldiers! Another Were the wall only down! [The circle about the fountain breaks. The young girls walk up and down beneath the trees. The Sisters watch them from a garden bench. The music dies away. Yvette sits upon the stone marge of the fountain. Yvette What is this pain that’s tearing at my heart? What matters it to me whom he doth love? And what concern of mine that she is fair? I would she were not so!—Oh, misery! She is in Nantes, she is La Belle Marquise! I would that she were dead! [The chapel bell rings. O Seigneur Dieu! O Our Lady! let not ill thoughts possess me! I would I were at Morbec this still eve, Herding the cows amid the golden broom, Above a sea of glass without a wind, As stagnant calm as is this prisoned water! I would gather the musk rose in the lane, I would tread the wet sand and count the ships, My brow would not burn, my heart would not ache, No tears from my eyes would I wipe away! Why should they not fall like the winter rain? I am the herd girl here as at Morbec, And she’s a great lady, loved for herself! O love! is it love that stifles me so? O love! is it love that makes me weep? I thought that love was all splendour and light, The bow in the sky, the bird at its height, The glory and state of an angel bright! What is this pain that burdens all my heart? [She bows her head upon her knees. The hum of the street deepens to a continuous and sinister sound. In the distance a roll of drums. Yvette raises her head. I sit by this fountain, he’ll not return! He cares not for me,—he’s the Sieur de Morbec, And I a herd girl wandering through his fields! Mother, my mother, did you sit and wait, By the wild sea rim on a glowing eve, Mid the brown seaweed on the shining sands? Your heart did it beat, and your senses swim?— But your lover, the fisher, he came, he came! [The voice of the street deepens. [Her hand touches the purple mark on her throat. Ha! how burns this hateful mark to-day! [There comes from the church towers of Nantes a sudden and violent crash of bells. Sister Fidelis (rising) The tocsin! The Young Girls (They flutter forward to the fountain) The tocsin! Oh, the tocsin! Like a hive of bees hums the street without! Yvette Oh, all ye iron bells! ring on! ring on! Enter Mlle. de ChÂteau-Gui and Sister Benedicta. The Young Girls Here is Mademoiselle de ChÂteau-Gui! She’ll tell us why the bells are ringing! Mlle. de ChÂteau-Gui O Ciel! Would you believe it? O blessed saints above! The country is in danger! A Young Girl Oh! we thought You brought us news! Mlle. de ChÂteau-Gui (joyously) Do you not hear the bells? La patrie est en danger! [Distant trumpets. Well you may wail, You brazen trumpets of the Revolution! The Duke of Brunswick he is marching now, And with him all our nobles back from Coblentz! O bliss! La patrie est en danger! Sister Fidelis Oh, hush! The very walls have ears! Mlle. de ChÂteau-Gui My father says The King shall have his own again, and all Will go as merry as a wedding bell! La patrie est en danger! Enter Count Louis, Melipars de L’Orient, and the AbbÉ de Barbasan. Oh, here are My father and Monsieur de L’Orient! De L’Orient So sweet the flowers here— Count Louis (to the young girls) Mesdemoiselles, One garden of rosebuds time hath not touched! (To the Sisters.) In your prayers, my Sisters, name ChÂteau-Gui! [The young girls curtesy, then exeunt between the trees. Yvette remains beside the fountain. Count Louis looks at her through his glass. Ha! The herd girl of Morbec! Count Louis I have eyes, De L’Orient! The AbbÉ Hm!—Fair child! Yvette (coldly) The AbbÉ De Vardes! De Vardes! Gold fish, gold fish, how are the fish of Quiberon? De Vardes Thou sullen witch, adieu! [Exit De Vardes. Yvette Monseigneur! ah! He’s gone! He’s gone to meet the fairy queen! He’s for the roses and the dazzling peaks! The seaweed and the furze he’s left behind! He’s left the storm, he’s left the storm and me! [The convent bell rings. Toll, toll! as though thou’d toll my soul away! Thou canst not toll him back! Oh, woe is me! [The nuns sing in the chapel. Voices O salutaris Hostia! Quae coeli pandis ostium: Bella premunt hostilia, Da robur fer auxilium! [Above the wall where it is shadowed by a fruit tree, appear the head and shoulders of Lalain. He draws himself up to the coping, watches Yvette for a moment, then swings himself down to the garden. He has a rose in his hand. Yvette Where is the sunshine gone? Where is the gold? It was a lovely day! ‘Tis cold and dead; No light, no warmth, no cheer!—Oh, presently Those two will take the summer road to Vannes! Within this convent close, will kneel and pray, Day in, day out, for all true lovers’ weal? What is there now to do?—O Jealousy! I dream of Paimpont Wood in June! I’ll dream Of sunlit peaks, of roses named Clarice; I’ll dream of furze that’s set about with thorns And clings unto the common earth which bore it! [A roll of thunder. On, on! It suits my mood, the crashing sound!— Jehan the fisherman! rise from the sea, Lay thy cold hand upon the heart of her Who’s not thy child, and teach her how to hate! Yvonne who parted from the earth one night, Come through the storm that darkens overhead And teach thy daughter how to hate! Thou too, Thou other one, thou seigneur high and grand Whose signet burns upon my aching throat, Whose nature stirs within me suddenly, Arise from hell and teach me how to hate! [Thunder. Voices from the Chapel Tantum ergo sacramentum Veneremur cernui— Yvette O Our Lady! O Our Lady! O Our Lady! [Lalain throws the rose. It falls beside Yvette. Oh!— [She raises the flower to her lips. Lalain comes forward. Thou! I thought it was—I thought it was. RÉmond Lalain! [With a wild petulance she throws down the flower and treads upon it. Lalain Now for that deed of thine I will not spare him when the day is mine! Yvette Of whom speakest thou? Lalain The Citoyen Vardes. Yvette Let him be! Lalain The Citoyenne BlanchefÔret. Yvette Again! Lalain <
/div> Under the Lanterne, Sign of the Hour Glass. Voices Nanon! Nanon! You are missing the sights! [Distant music. Other Voices Allons, enfants de la patrie, Le jour de gloire est arrivÉ! Nanon Come, come away! [SÉraphine unbars the door in the wall. It swings open. Faith! One can see the Loire! ‘Tis fine to walk beside it ‘neath the moon! Yvette Oh!— Voices Tremblez, tyrans! et vous perfides,— Nanon Away! Away! Yvette I’ll go—I’ll go with you. Ye fruit trees and thou fountain, fare ye well! [Exeunt Yvette, SÉraphine, Nanon. The door swings to. Lightning and thunder. Sister Fidelis appears in the convent door. Voices (dying away) Aux armes, Citoyens! Formez vos bataillons! CURTAIN |
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