Now, now while the lark sings, And while the fairy wood is green, begone! Oh, ‘tis not safe in Nantes! They gave thy life, But oh, they’re fierce and fickle! Back they’ll come! I’ve enemies in Nantes, and there’s Lalain, Rémond Lalain who’ll work me woe at last! Thou must begone, but list, ah, list to me! I know a secret place where thou mayst bide, So safe! so safe! and I will bring thee food, White bread and wine, and find for thee a way Forth from the town— DE VARDES Ah, I may trust thee, sure! YVETTE I never knew thou wast in prison there! So sad, so dark the prison life, they say! My cagèd bird I freed the other day. There are so many prisoners in Nantes, I would not have it one!— DE VARDES My life I owe— YVETTE The spring draws on; ‘twill soon be June again! DE VARDES Now for another life I make my suit— YVETTE In Paimpont Wood the trees are greening now, In sun and shade the purple violets blow! DE VARDES In those old convent days, ah, ages gone! Beneath the fruit trees, by the fountain there, I’ve seen thee nurse a little fluttering bird, Wounded and frightened, fallen from the blue, But yet God’s bird, and with a life to save! And thou didst stroke its plumage tenderly, And gently fostered it between thy hands Awhile, and up it soared into the blue; A moment since and thou didst save my life. Lo now, there is another thing to do! Before my own life, I’ve a life in charge, And to thee now I turn, and plead for help. In this wild town thou rulest o’er the hour; Be now the goddess and the woman too, Pitiful, tender, generous, and true!— Lo! here a wounded bird— [_He moves aside._ THE MARQUISE _leaves the shadow of the pillar_. YVETTE Death of my life! THE MARQUISE Oh, guard me, all ye saints! DE VARDES Yvette! Yvette! [LALAIN _comes forward from the statue_. LALAIN (_to_ YVETTE) Right of the Seigneur! YVETTE So! Thou hast returned, Beneath the trees, along the moonlit road! And in thine arms the rose and eglantine, And on thy lips the song of all the birds! Back! There is a furze field bars thy way! THE MARQUISE Mon Dieu! YVETTE Hast thou another fan to break? Ha! shrinkest thou? THE MARQUISE Sainte Geneviève!