6

GRAMMONT

I wish you joy; and while you woo the Duchess,
I'll go and pay my court to the new favourite.

LAUZUN.

Farewell, Count; if I win this wealthy lady.
Egad, I know some honest sons of Israel
Who ought to be the happiest dogs in Paris!
With what an air I shall receive the rascals.

Scene II. commences page 65, with the palace-“ He loves me then no longer," &c. mourn for her," add

(Exeunt Grammont and Lauzun. Duchess de La Vallière in her After the words "I will not

And he the lion-hearted Bragelone-
They tell me, that in some remoter land
He died, and left to France his fame-to me,
Remembrance and remorse. So all are dead!
Ev'n love itself is dead, save in my heart.
And love, surviving love.

Changes its nature, and becomes despair.

Ah, me! ah, me! how hateful is this world.

(Gentleman of the Chamber announces Lauzun.)

From page 65 to 80 (viz., to the end of the Act,) as printed, with the exception of some parts of the dialogue omitted.

Act V., from page 81 to 83 omitted. Commence the Act, p. 83.

SCENE-Sunset, the old chateau of La Vallière, &c.

The rest of the Act as printed, omitting the hymns, and slightly curtailing some of the dialogue.

It will be observed, that the objects of these alterations are-first, to bring the play into the orthodox length with respect to time; secondly, to round the third act (as performed) and strengthen the part of Bragelone, by bringing into action his despair at La Vallière's fall; and, thirdly, to throw into a very brief recital the business of the third act as printed-namely, the change of Louis towards La Vallière, the rise of Montespan, the supposed death of Bragelone, and the King's permission to Lauzun to offer marriage to La Vallière. They who wish to see how this is brought about must, for the present at least, read the play. The third act, now omitted in representation, never was represented fairly, unless the audience saw in Madame de Montespan, a brilliant, beautiful, and energetic woman; and in Lauzun, the Iago of a court, moulding everything to the will of a glorious intellect and a perverted ambition. Such, in this act, was the author's intention; if it were not made visible and corporeal on the stage, the reader must decide between the author and the actors.

EPILOGUE,

TO BE

SPOKEN IN THE CHARACTER

OF

THE MARQUIS DE MONTESPAN.

DAMN me!-What, damn a Marquis! there's a phrase
That's only fit for peasants, or for plays!

A Marquis damn'd!-the gods will never do it
While authors live;-I hear they're brought up to it.
But folks still talk of what runs in their head!-
Methinks, I see some persons better bred :-
Ah! if your hearts one kindly impulse touches,
You will not damn the Marquis-nor the Duchess !
Far from so harsh a fate, you all must know,
Though born about two hundred years ago,
Though, at the court of Louis, called 'THE GREAT,'
My pension proves how well I served the state;
Yet I alone, of all my age, survive,

My Portia's gone-still Brutus is alive!

Strange changes, gentlemen, methinks have been
Since Pomp and Louis walk'd the living scene.
When I was young, were Dukes inclined to roam,-
Six horses bore them half a mile from home;

But now a Duke takes journeys to the moon,
And steps his half a mile from a balloon!

Once, from the state when honest folks could squeeze,
Like me, a competence, they lived at ease!
But now, all men, no matter what their stations,
Run after things called-' tempting speculations!'
Tell me, my friends, (it puzzles my invention,)
How, with most profit, to invest MY PENSION!

I like not land-one never gets one's rent;

Stocks ?-who the deuce can live on two per cent. ?

But, Heaven be thanked, there are, to cheer one's vapours,

Some famous speculations-in the papers!

(Takes out a newspaper.)

First of the many modes the wind to raise,

"Forty per cent.-new nine-wheeled Cabriolets !" "Railway to Gretna Green, ten miles a minute,

Five pounds-a-share-deposit !"-Catch me in it!
"Grand Caoutchouc Co.!" (Ah, hard words catch the lubber),
For making gateposts out of Indian rubber.

New banks that pay you three per cent. !—I see-
They grab your hundred, and return you three !
All are called Companies-all call for cash,
And all make bubbles, if they make a splash.
Nay, when you've gone the round of all the rest,
You've still, I find, your body to invest ;
And a new company your bones will bury
In that gay spec-THE LONDON CEMETERY!
Well, well! let other flies be caught by honey,
These gully-plots shall never catch my money:-
Brisk though the wind, I'll just heave out the anchor,
And, gad, I'll keep my pension with my banker.

How I run on!-excuse this idle chatter,
But pensions, now, are such a ticklish matter!
You seem delightful persons, I declare;
Pray come again-don't drive us to despair!
What though the convent has our Duchess captured,

Forgive her faults-and she'll be charmed, enraptured!

THE

DUCHESS DE
DE LA VALLIÈRE.

ACT I.

SCENE I.

Time-sun-set. On the foreground an old Chateau; beyond, Vineyards and Woods, which present, through their openings, Views of a River, reflecting the sun-set. At a distance, the turrets of the Convent of the Carme

lites.

Madame and Mademoiselle de la Vallière.

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.

'Tis our last eve, my mother!

MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE.

Thou regrett'st it,

My own Louise! albeit the court invites thee

A court beside whose glories, dull and dim
The pomp of eastern kings, by poets told;
A court-

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.

In which I shall not see my mother!
Nor these old walls, in which, from every stone,
Childhood speaks eloquent of happy years;
Nor vines and woods, which bade me love the earth,
Nor yonder spires, which raised that love to God!-
(The vesper bell tolls.)

The vesper bell!-my mother, when, once more,
I hear from those grey towers that holy chime,
May thy child's heart be still as full of Heaven,
And callous to all thoughts of earth, save those
Which mirror Eden in the face of Home !

MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE.

Do I not know thy soul?-through every snare

My gentle dove shall 'scape with spotless plumes.
Alone in courts, I have no fear for thee;-
Some natures take from Innocence the lore
Experience teaches; and their delicate leaves,
Like the soft plant, shut out all wrong, and shrink
From vice by instinct, as the wise by knowledge :
And such is thine! My voice thou wilt not hear,
But Thought shall whisper where my voice would warn,
And Conscience be thy mother and thy guide!

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.

Oh, may I merit all thy care, and most

Thy present trust!-Thou'lt write to me, my mother,
And tell me of thyself: amidst the court
My childhood's images shall rise.

Be kind

To the poor cotters in the wood ;-alas,

They'll miss me in the winter !—and my birds ?—
Thy hand will feed them ?-

MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE.

And that noble heart

That loves thee as my daughter should be loved

The gallant Bragelone ?* should I hear

Some tidings Fame forgets-if in the din

Of camps I learn thy image makes his solace,
Shall I not write of him?—

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE (with indifference.)

His name will breathe

Of home and friendship ;—yes !

MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE.

Of nought beside?

MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIÈRE.

Nay, why so pressing ?-let me change the theme.
The King!-you have seen him ;-is he, as they say,
So fair-so stately?

MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE.

Ay, in truth, my daughter,

A king that wins the awe he might command.
Splendid in peace, and terrible in war;

Wise in the council-gentle in the bower.

*The author has, throughout this play, availed himself of the poetical licence to give to the name of Bragelone the Italian pronunciation, and to accent the final e,