For sleep, for food. In my name, MINE! he will Of his army! Ho! there, Count de Baradas, Baradas (As the guards open the folding-doors, a view of the Ha! ha! (Snatching De Mauprat's death-warrant from the officer.) See here De Mauprat's death-writ, Julie! Parchment for battledores! Embrace your husband! At last the old man blesses you! JULIE. Oh joy! You are saved; you live; I hold you in these arms. MAUPRAT. 1 Never to part― JULIE. No, never, Adrien, never! LOUIS (peevishly). One moment makes a startling cure, lord cardinal !† RICHELIEU. Ay, sire, for in one moment there did pass My own dear France, I have thee yet; I have saved thee! *The passion of the drama requires this catastrophe for Baradas. He, however, survived his disgrace-though stripped of all his rapidly-acquired fortunes-and the daring that belonged to his character won him distinction in foreign service. He returned to France after Richelieu's death, but never regained the same court influence. He had taken the vows of a Knight of Malta, and Louis made him a prior! †The sudden resuscitation of Richelieu (not to strain too much on the real passion which supports him in this scene) is in conformance with the more dissimulating part of his character. The extraordinary mobility of his countenance (latterly so deathlike, save when the mind spoke in the features) always lent itself to stage effect of this nature. The queen mother said of him, that she had seen him one moment so feeble, cast down, and "semi-mort," that he seemed to be on the point of giving up the ghost, and the next moment he would start up full of animation, energy, and life. LOUIS. For Mauprat's pardon-well! But Julie, Richelieu, RICHELIEU. A subject's luxury! Yet, if you must love something, sire, love me! LOUIS (smiling in spite of himself). Fair proxy for a young fresh demoiselle! RICHELIEU. Your heart speaks for my clients. Kneel, my children, And thank your king JULIE. Ah, tears like these, my liege, Are dews that mount to Heaven. LOUIS. 2 Rise, rise, be happy. (Richelieu beckons to De Beringhen.) DE BERINGHEN (falteringly). My lord-you are-most-happily-recover'd. RICHELIEU. But you are pale, dear Beringhen: this air Suits not your delicate frame; I long have thought so: Sleep not another night in Paris. Go, Or else your precious life may be in danger. Leave France, dear Beringhen! DE BERINGHEN. More than I ask'd for, to discuss the pâté. I shall have time, [Exit De Beringhen. RICHELIEU (to Orleans). For you, repentance, absence, and confession! (To François.) Never say fail again. Brave boy! A bishop first. (To Joseph.) He'll be JOSEPH. Ah, cardinal RICHELIEU. Ah, Joseph! (To Louis, as De Mauprat and Julie converse apart.) See, my liege, see through plots and counterplots, Through gain and loss, through glory and disgrace, Along the plains where passionate Discord rears Eternal Babel, still the holy stream Of human happiness glides on! LOUIS. And must we Thank for that also-our prime minister? RICHELIEU. No, let us own it: there is ONE above Alas! Our glories float between the earth and heaven May bless the cloud when it hath pass'd away!* * The image and the sentiment in the concluding lines are borrowed from a passage in one of the writings attributed to the cardinal. THE END OF RICHELIEU. |