The dawn came slowly on. The cock crew and I drew the curtain by And saw the morning star above the Loire! DE VARDES The morning star! YVETTE ‘Twas like the eye of God! I used to watch it from the fields at dawn; This morn ‘twas watching me! DE VARDES Rémond Lalain! YVETTE ‘Twas all in vain. She’s dead—ah, ages since! You’ll not forgive—So fare you well again! DE VARDES Where goest thou, Yvette? YVETTE To Séraphine, Beneath the Lanterne, Sign of the Hour Glass! DE VARDES Hear and obey! It is a dying man Speaks to thee now and with authority!— Thy seigneur too, and head of all thy house. When I am dead, the last of the De Vardes Will be thyself, my cousin!—All song doth say That Duchess Jeanne who lived so long ago, Whose pictured face and thine are counterparts, E’en to the shadowy hair, the cheek’s soft curve, The light of eye, the slow, enchanting smile,— All song doth say she had a bruisèd heart, But in God’s sight a height of soul! So thou. Go thou to Morbec. Leave this Babylon. Back! from the travelled road thy foot’s upon! List not unto the music that is played; Touch not the scarlet flowers, the honey-sweet, They’ll poison thee! Think not the light is fair, It is false dawn. Take thou the darkling way Shall lead thee to white light and lasting bloom! Go thou to Morbec. Take thy distaff up, Spin thou thy flax and listen to old tales, Peacefully, with that smile upon thy lip! Or in the dewy dawn lift up thy head From dreamless sleep and drive thy cows afield, Stand mid the golden broom and mark the mist Rise from the hidden sea, and hear the lark Singing afar his strain of heavenly hope,— So wear thy years away, ah, tranquilly!— Thou art so young—All this will come to seem A dream of yesternight— YVETTE Dost thou forgive? DE VARDES And at the last when Death shall take thy hand, Smile at the due caress, and lightly come— If I am I, I’ll meet thee on the strand! YVETTE Dost thou forgive? DE VARDES I love! YVETTE _Me?_ DE VARDES Thou sayest. YVETTE Where is the music playing? DE VARDES