The Goddess of Reason: A Drama in Five ActsJohnston, Mary
History
The Goddess of Reason: A Drama in Five Acts
Johnston, Mary
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Drama
‘Tis light enough to knit! I’ll sit me down.
Fi! how the grass is trampled here!
A SOLDIER
Lalain and Lambertye—
A WOMAN
We left them there
Upon the barge, Lalain and Lambertye;
And they were drinking deep, and dicing too,
And Lalain had his arm round Angélique!
[_They laugh._
DE VARDES
Seest thou not through yonder trees the stone,
The Druid Stone where I did see thee first
When thou didst lie asleep upon the grass?
How long I stood and looked, thou dost not know!
YVETTE
Beside the stream I slept and dreamed of thee!
I knew it not, but sure I dreamed of thee,
For in my sleep I thought I saw a king!
DE VARDES
O love!—
YVETTE
It is Morbec arises there!
The sands that stretch above the idle waves,
And all the little shells upon the shore!
DE VARDES
The convent bell is ringing! Seest thou not
The fountain old, the fruit trees in the sun?
YVETTE
Oh, life was never made for happiness!
The hour’s too short, the wine spills from the cup,
The blossom’s shaken ere we know ‘tis sweet!
VOICES FROM THE RIVER
Miséricorde!
A SOLDIER
Those two have waited long!
Hi! Petit-Pierre, ‘tis time to marry them—
DE VARDES
This Saint John’s Eve we’ll walk in other woods!
And we will find and name a castle fair,
And rose and heartsease we will plant thereby!
Here ends this road, but we must onward go.
There is a longer hour, a deeper cup!
The blossom’s gone, but we shall see the fruit.
And life was made for happiness, my _douce_!
A VOICE FROM THE RIVER
_Mourir pour la patrie,
Mourir pour la France._
DE VARDES
It is a hymn of Chénier’s.—France! France!
Not since the days of Clovis hast thou lacked
Strong sons to die for thee, thou Lioness!
But now thy own brood hast thou eaten up,
And in the desert shalt thou roar alone,
Seeing the hunters nearer, nearer creep!
They’ll snare thee fast, they’ll make of thee a show!
France, France!—and yet thy sons shall ransom thee!
A SOLDIER
A length of rope, André!
ANOTHER
Petit-Pierre—
YVETTE
They come!
DE VARDES
I will go first.
YVETTE
‘Tis not their way!
They’ll bind us fast together, throw us in
Bound fast together—
DE VARDES
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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