When Count Dunois appeareth in the lists, Each humbler suitor must forsake the field; Still it doth ill become a shepherd maid To stand as consort by your princely side. The royal current in your veins would scorn To mix with blood of baser quality. DUNOIS. She, like myself, is holy Nature's child, A child divine—hence we by birth are equal. She bring dishonor on a prince's hand, Who is the holy angel's bride, whose head Is by a heavenly glory circled round, Whose radiance far outshineth earthly crowns, Who seeth lying far beneath her feet All that is greatest, highest of this earth! For thrones on thrones, ascending to the stars, Would fail to reach the height where she abides In angel majesty! LA HIRE. Our monarch must decide. DUNOIS. Not so! she must Decide! Free hath she made this realm of France, And she herself must freely give her heart. LA HIRE. Here comes the king! 

  

       SCENE II.     

       CHARLES, AGNES, SOREL, DUCHATEL, and CHATILLON. The same. CHARLES (to CHATILLON). He comes! My title he will recognize, And do me homage as his sovereign liege? CHATILLON. Here, in his royal town of Chalons, sire, The duke, my master, will fall down before thee. He did command me, as my lord and king, To give thee greeting. He'll be here anon. SOREL. He comes! Hail beauteous and auspicious day, Which bringeth joy, and peace, and reconcilement! CHATILLON. The duke, attended by two hundred knights, Will hither come; he at thy feet will kneel; But he expecteth not that thou to him Should yield the cordial greeting of a kinsman. CHARLES. I long to clasp him to my throbbing heart. CHATILLON. The duke entreats that at this interview, No word be spoken of the ancient strife! CHARLES. In Lethe be the past forever sunk! The smiling future now invites our gaze. CHATILLON. All who have combated for Burgundy Shall be included in the amnesty. CHARLES. So shall my realm be doubled in extent! CHATILLON. Queen Isabel, if she consent thereto, Shall also be included in the peace. CHARLES. She maketh war on me, not I on her. With her alone it rests to end our quarrel. CHATILLON. Twelve knights shall answer for thy royal word. CHARLES. My word is sacred. CHATILLON. The archbishop shall Between you break the consecrated host, As pledge and seal of cordial reconcilement. CHARLES. Let my eternal weal be forfeited, If my hand's friendly grasp belie my heart. What other 

 Prev. P 45/81 next