Burgundy,
Thy own mean spirit hurls thee from the throne.
Born heroes ever were the kings of France;
Thou wert a craven, even from thy birth.
[To the SENATORS.
The king abandons you. But I will throw
Myself into your town--my father's town--
And 'neath its ruins find a soldier's grave.

[He is about to depart. AGNES SOREL detains him.

SOREL (to the KING).
Oh, let him not depart in anger from thee!
Harsh words his lips have uttered, but his heart
Is true as gold. 'Tis he, himself, my king,
Who loves thee, and hath often bled for thee.
Dunois, confess, the heat of noble wrath
Made thee forget thyself; and oh, do thou
Forgive a faithful friend's o'erhasty speech!
Come, let me quickly reconcile your hearts,
Ere anger bursteth forth in quenchless flame.

[DUNOIS looks fixedly at the KING, and appears to await an answer.

CHARLES.
Our way lies over the Loire. Duchatel,
See all our equipage embarked.

DUNOIS (quickly to SOREL).
Farewell.

[He turns quickly round, and goes out. The SENATORS follow.

SOREL (wringing her hands in despair).
Oh, if he goes, we are forsaken quite!
Follow, La Hire! Oh, seek to soften him!

[LA HIRE goes out.

SCENE VI.

CHARLES, SOREL, DUCHATEL.

CHARLES.
Is, then, the sceptre such a peerless treasure?
Is it so hard to loose it from our grasp?
Believe me, 'tis more galling to endure
The domineering rule of these proud vassals.
To be dependent on their will and pleasure
Is, to a noble heart, more bitter far
Than to submit to fate.
[To DUCHATEL, who still lingers.
Duchatel, go,
And do what I commanded.

DUCHATEL (throws himself at the KING'S feet).
Oh, my king!

CHARLES.
No more! Thou'st heard my absolute resolve!

DUCHATEL.
Sire, with the Duke of Burgundy make peace!
'Tis the sole outlet from destruction left!

CHARLES.
Thou giv'st this counsel, and thy blood alone
Can ratify this peace.

DUCHATEL.
Here is my head.
I oft have risked it for thee in the fight,
And with a joyful spirit I, for thee,
Would lay it down upon the block of death.
Conciliate the duke! Deliver me
To the full measure of his wrath, and let
My flowing blood appease the ancient hate.

CHARLES (looks at him for some time in silence, and with deep emotion).
Can it be true? Am I, then, sunk so low,
That even friends, who read my inmost heart,
Point out for my escape the path of shame?
Yes, now I recogn