Rémond Lalain, stand from my path, I say! (_To the crowd._) Not emigré, but prisoner in La Force! Not traitor! That’s a wretch who doth betray! Aristocrat?—Who chooseth his birth star? Crieth at Life’s gate, “Of such an house I’m heir!” But in we drift from the great sea without; A current takes us—“Of my house are ye!” So you, so I, so this citoyen here, Rémond Lalain, who is Lalain by chance, And might have been Capet or Mirabeau! And so this other, standing gravely there Alone, a man alone upon a rock, And the tide mounts!—The current swept him there! Another drift, and he had been Lalain, Orator and idol of the Jacobins!— Names! They are the mist through which the man Is scarce discerned, the sea-drift hides the pearl. Ghosts of the past the present spurns! Dead leaves! Masks for the pauper and the prince! Mere names! I would not have them rule my spirit thus!— Aristocrat! I know not, but I know The man’s been known to lift a peasant’s load And gather seaweed with a fisher’s child! A BRETON SAILOR ‘Tis true! And in my boat he’s been with me, When Ahès and the storm made black the sea! A PEASANT He walked beside me in the field and told Name of the silver star above the fold! A SOLDIER I was a red Hussar! He fought like Mars. Eh, my Colonel— A WOMAN We know, we Morbec folk! _Vive Baron René!_ SÉRAPHINE Eh, eh, monseigneur! YVETTE Nantes! Nantes! you’ll keep the oath you’ve made to me! My fairing I shall have this holiday, And what I bind it shall be bound indeed, And what I loose is loosed to me for aye! I ask one gift—I shall not ask again! This is my hour, no other hour I want. I ask one life—is’t mine, is’t mine, Citoyens? THE CROWD Yes, yes! ‘Tis thine! A COMMISSIONER Thine, Goddess! (_To_ DE VARDES.) Citoyen, thou art free! LALAIN Diable! YVETTE I’m faint.— SÉRAPHINE Saint Iguinou! What of the pillar there? A COMMISSIONER Make way for the Citoyen Vardes! THE CROWD Make way! SÉRAPHINE Eh, eh, monseigneur; thou hadst best begone! DE VARDES (_to the Commissioner_) Citoyen, thanks! but here I’ll watch awhile These pleasing rites, this worship new of Reason! THE COMMISSIONER ‘Twill do thee good, Aristocrat! DE VARDES No doubt, Citoyen!