PLACE—Montreal.
SCENE—Interior of a convent. Night. HELÈNE is discovered kneeling in prayer. Procession of nuns pa** in middle back past entrance, going to prayers. Music in distance. When nuns have pa**ed, chanting heard in chapel at back. HELÈNE slowly rises and advances to centre.
HEL. Heaven protect me, keep my maiden thoughts
In troth to him I love. Oh, guide me, Thou
Who guidest all poor stumbling human feet
To paths of peace.
[Pauses in meditation, then sinks into a seat.
FANCHON rushes in, screaming, and falls sobbing at her feet.
FAN. Mademoiselle, mademoiselle, save me! save me!
Enter a Nun.
Nun. Mademoiselle, this girl is disobedient.
'Tis the law of the colony, she must present
Herself within the marriage mart to-morrow;
And, now, do what we can, she doth protest.
HEL. Leave her to me, she is over-wrought. [Exit Nun.
FAN. O mistress, save me! I would rather die
Than stand there in that place and be the barter
Of any yokel who may fancy me.
Are women cattle, that they treat us thus?
HEL. Fanchon, compose yourself, you are distraught.
You overrate the dangers of this course [Page 168].
To shame the woman is not required of you.
There is no reason under Heaven why,
If some good youth should seek your hand to-morrow,
You should not accept him.
FAN. Yea, my lady, well you know there is one.
My love for—for—
HEL. p**nac?
FAN. Yea.
HEL. Fanchon!
FAN. I cannot help it, mistress; ask me else,
But this I cannot.
HEL. But you have promised, Fanchon. By deceit
You won your pa**age; 'tis against the law,
Your coming save for purposes of marriage.
FAN. How about your own position, madam?
HEL. Fanchon!
FAN. Forgive me, lady, but when you speak me thus
You lose your Fanchon. I am but a woman
Who, like the she-wolf battling for her cubs,
Defends her love. Is love but for the mighty?
Believe me, madam, wherever woman is woman
Love is but love; there are no golden barriers;
This world is common when you touch the heart.
My only object was to be with you;
I could not let you travel forth alone.
If I lied, madam, it was because I loved you.
HEL. Then you love p**nac to such extremity?
FAN. That I will have none other.
HEL. Then, Fanchon, none shall have you, trust to me.
Do what I tell you, go with me to-morrow,
And stand this ordeal that unmaids you so,
I'll stand your side, and, hap no miracle,
Though all the world should clamor nay upon it,
I'll keep you single.
FAN. Heaven bless you, mademoiselle, Heaven bless you [Page 169]!
HEL. I have my sorrow, Fanchon, as you know;
Though in the public eye we're deemed but barter,
Enter Nun, who stands apart.
The willing slaves of easy circumstance,
Yet to a real woman who hath loved,
And proved that love, no holdy sacrament
Can be more sacred than that worship of hers.
Good night, Fanchon, pray to Heaven in peace.
Believe me true, there's a divinity
Encloses in a golden mercy those
Who dwell in aspiration. Good night, Fanchon,
And trust in God.
[Kisses her. Exit FANCHON with Nun.
How the true, simple love of yon poor maid
Doth touch my spirit to tears and makes us equal!
How that strong throb of womanhood in her
Doth make her great and raise her to a majesty
A sceptred queen might envy! Oh, we women
Have but one nature. Wisdom may outwit us,
Truth slander us, Philosophy prove us shallow,
But first and last and always we have Love.
Enter the Mother Superior. A chant rises in chapel at back.
Mother Superior. My daughter, are you rested?
HEL. Yea, madam, in body, but not in my heart;
Sought these shores to cure a greivous wound,
But here it bleeds even more.
M.S. My daughter, trust in Heaven; forget these longings
What make you earth's and keep your heart from God.
You have a sorrow, it brought you to these shores,
Forget it in the work He'd have you do.
My heart yearns toward you, you who are alone
Amid these savage wastes where cruel men,
More savage than the savage, wage their wars
For what earth gives them. You are ill protected [Page 170].
Come, be my daughter; at the feet of God
Lay down your ahces, your longings and your fears.
Look how the tender Mother looks upon you,
Sorrowful for your sorrow. Gaze, my child
She calls ou from your sorrow to her peace.
HEL. You half persuade me, did I think it right,
But I have something here within my heart
That mocks her peace.
M.S. My daughter!
HEL. Nay, 'tis not evil, but as strong an influence
To keep me from her and this holy life,
For it is love. [Weeps.
M.S. Love, my child, this life is built of love,
Is moulded on it. In your love for others
You do perfect your own. Hearken to yon sounds
Of Heaven's praise. Turn your heart to Heaven,
And be my daughter.
HEL. I know not what is best, your spirit calls me
One way to peace; my heart is torn the other.
O mother, pray for me!
[Suddenly shots are fired outside, a war-whoop rises.
There is a terrible uproar, and the nuns all crowd forward in terror.
All. The savages! the savages!
M.S. Hush, my children, put your trust in God!
He will protect you. Do not shame our cloister
By these poor terrors. Back unto your prayers!
[The firing rises louder, and war-whoops shrill and hideous are heard. The nuns huddle together and shriek.
M.S. Where is Sister Marie?
A Nun. Out! She went to see a dying woman.
M.S. Not out in all this? Why did I not know?
We must, we must find her!
[There is a knocking heard at the door, and a woodman and a priest come in, carrying the nun in a dying condition. [Page 171]
M.S. O my child, my child, my noble child!
MARIE. Yea, mother, poor Marie, going back to God!
(tries to smile) Moisten my lips, mother, it will all
Soon be over. They did not get him, though.
Priest. It was a little lad, a poor wee lamb,
That she was bringing home, when they attacked her.
She fought for him; we came scarce in time
But to die with her, when the Sieur Daulac
Rescued us all, but not before this saint
Had got her d**h!
HEL. (aside) Daulac!
MARIE. Father! Mother! I die. O Christ, receive me!
[Dies. The procession of nuns forms, headed by the stretcher with the body, and pa**es out into chapel chanting the Miserere.
HEL. Daulac! out there! in all the danger!
M.S. (coming back) My child, this rude interruption must not break
My pleading with you. Yon poor soul is in Heaven.
Yours is yet unsaved. [Chanting dies away.
HEL. Mother, I cannot, cannot, cannot answer now [Page 172].
CURTAIN.