member that your father has forgiven, as
Christ once forgave,” and he rises to
bless them all. “Ah! human nature
can endure no more,” exclaims poor
Louis.
“To-morrow I will see you
again; adieu, adieu," and, tearing him
self from those eight arms that clasp
him with frenzy, the King escapes to
the oratory and bolts the door behind
him.
“ Pity !”
“ Open !”
“Papa!”
Marie Antoinette rushes to the door;
she would tear it asunder with her hands. It does not yield, and there she stands in agony, her children and Madame Elizabeth at her feet, while, without, Simon dares to sing “ The Car magnole.” “ This is not the theatre,” we say, as
the curtain
falls.
“It is
France in 1793.” Act 5th._-It is the morning of Jan
and then to obtain the Queen’s signa
ture to a paper approving of all the past
actions of the republic. The expression
of Marie Antoinette's face as she listens
to the reading of this document sur
passes language. Her denunciation of
her husband’s murderers is the passion
of majesty itself; and when Simon ap
pears as the Dauphin‘s future guardian,
her one indignant “Thou!” is a. whirl
wind of contempt.
Yes, Simon will
make an excellent guardian.
He will
teach little Capet all manner of fine things, “The Carmagnole,” for example. “ Come,” he says, and goes to the bed where the Dauphin lies. Oh! was there
ever anything grander than the terrible rage of Marie Antoinette at this mo ment? “Infamous reptile, away! My muscles are steel. . . . My mouth is bathed with the bloody foam of the
uary ztst, I793. and we are again in
wounded tiger.
the Temple. but the scene is different, for the Queen’s apartment is now before
fore your impure breath shall profane
us.
limb_vile! vile! vile!”
They have passed a woeful night,
these unfortunates. and now all but the Queen await the King‘s coming. She feels that she has gazed her last upon him. Fever burns her up, and Madame Royale starts terrified in her sleep, thinking to have seen her father dead, and awakes in tears. A noise! The King? Oh no. lt is only Simon come to torture them, to prove that there be devils in this world if there be none in the next. 'And while he tells of the King’s last moments in prison, drums are heard. “ Long live the nation!” he shouts, twirling his cap in the face of death, and rushing out to enjoy the murder. Drums and a dirge! their hearts’ blood freezes.
Down, down on
their knees before God, their only stay. “ God of goodness!” murmurs Marie Antoinette, but her torn heart can find no other words. Sobs are her only prayer, and while the dirge is heard, while Louis advances to the guillotine, Madame Royale implores the mercy of Heaven. In the midst of this fearful agony fearful for spectator as well as for actor
Before your hands, be
this angel, I will rend you limb from defending its young.
It is a tiger
Wonderful power!
wonderful art! Can Simon be defied? Alas! no. Is he not the republic? Pleading even will do no good. “ The child,” demands Simon. “Death first!” replies Marie Antoinette.
“Death be it," threatens
the jailor. and raises his sword to strike the Dauphin. Too much. Ma.rie An toinette must yield as she has ever done, only let her have time. “An hour,_a half hour,_quarter of an hour,—five minutes,” she gasps, pressing the child to her heart. “We have waited long
enough," answers the brute.
On her
knees the wretched Queen pleads that her angel may be treated tenderly. One kiss more! one more! No; the Dau phin is snatched from her--has disap peared. “My son!” shrieks Marie An toinette; she rises, falls, rises again, the door is closed upon her. Gone for ever; and, seized with
catalepsy, the
Malesherbes brings the last words and
Queen stands motionless with her hands in her hair, a living statue of such hor rible despair as Michael Angelo alone could convey to marble.
testament of the martyr king, and San terre enters, first to seize Malesherbes,
Last scene of all-the Epilogue. The
