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 Ha, ha! ha, ha! ha, ha! COUNT LOUIS You laugh, monsieur? 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 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 Yvette! THE ABBÉ 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 She may hang for that! How high I forget The gallows should be— COUNT LOUIS (_offering his snuff-box_) Monsieur le Vidame, Thirty feet, I believe! THE VIDAME But not in chains— COUNT LOUIS No! It was the left arm. DE L’ORIENT What did De Vardes? THE ABBÉ