SOREL (to the KING). Oh, let him not depart in anger from thee! Harsh words his lips have uttered, but his heart Is true as gold. 'Tis he, himself, my king, Who loves thee, and hath often bled for thee. Dunois, confess, the heat of noble wrath Made thee forget thyself; and oh, do thou Forgive a faithful friend's o'erhasty speech! Come, let me quickly reconcile your hearts, Ere anger bursteth forth in quenchless flame. [DUNOIS looks fixedly at the KING, and appears to await an answer. CHARLES. Our way lies over the Loire. Duchatel, See all our equipage embarked. DUNOIS (quickly to SOREL). Farewell. [He turns quickly round, and goes out. The SENATORS follow. SOREL (wringing her hands in despair). Oh, if he goes, we are forsaken quite! Follow, La Hire! Oh, seek to soften him! [LA HIRE goes out. SCENE VI. CHARLES, SOREL, DUCHATEL. CHARLES. Is, then, the sceptre such a peerless treasure? Is it so hard to loose it from our grasp? Believe me, 'tis more galling to endure The domineering rule of these proud vassals. To be dependent on their will and pleasure Is, to a noble heart, more bitter far Than to submit to fate. [To DUCHATEL, who still lingers. Duchatel, go, And do what I commanded. DUCHATEL (throws himself at the KING'S feet). Oh, my king! CHARLES. No more! Thou'st heard my absolute resolve! DUCHATEL. Sire, with the Duke of Burgundy make peace! 'Tis the sole outlet from destruction left! CHARLES. Thou giv'st this counsel, and thy blood alone Can ratify this peace. DUCHATEL. Here is my head. I oft have risked it for thee in the fight, And with a joyful spirit I, for thee, Would lay it down upon the block of death. Conciliate the duke! Deliver me To the full measure of his wrath, and let My flowing blood appease the ancient hate. CHARLES (looks at him for some time in silence, and with deep emotion). Can it be true? Am I, then, sunk so low, That even friends, who read my inmost heart, Point out for my escape the path of shame? Yes, now I recognize my abject fall. My honor is no more confided in. DUCHATEL. Reflect---- CHARLES. Be silent, and incense me not! Had I ten realms, on which to turn my back, With my friend's life I would not purchase them. Do what I have commanded. Hence, and see My equipage embarked. DUCHATEL. 'Twill speedily Be done. [He stands up and retires. AGNES SOREL weeps passionately. SCENE VII. The royal palace at Chinon. CHARLES, AGNES SOREL. CHARLES (seizing the hand of AGNES). My Agnes, be not sorrowful! Beyond the Loire we still shall find a France; We are departing to a happier land, Where laughs a milder, an unclouded sky, And gales more genial blow; we there shall meet More gentle manners; song abideth there, And love and life in richer beauty bloom.