THE KING.

Poor falconry!

L'ANGELY (_going to window_).

Sire, look!

THE KING (_turns around suddenly_).

At what?

L'ANGELY.

Just look, I beg of you!

THE KING (_rising and going to the window_).

What is it?

L'ANGELY (_indicating something outside_).

They have changed the sentinel!

THE KING.

Well, is that all?

L'ANGELY.

Who is that fellow with The yellow lace?

THE KING.

No one--the corporal!

L'ANGELY.

He puts a new man there. What says he, low?

THE KING.

The pa.s.sword! Fool! What are you driving at?

L'ANGELY.

At this: Kings act the part of sentinels.

Instead of pikes, a scepter they must bear.

When they have strutted 'round their little day, Death comes--the corporal of kings--and puts Another scepter-bearer in their place, Speaking the pa.s.sword which G.o.d sends, and which Is clemency.

THE KING.

No, it is justice. Ah, Two falconers! It is a frightful loss!

Still, they must die.

L'ANGELY.

As you must die, and I.

Or big or little, death has appet.i.te For all. But though they've not much room, The dead sleep well. The Cardinal annoys And wearies you. Wait, sire! A day, a month, A year; when we have played as long as needful-- I, my own part of fool; you, king; and he, The master--we will go to sleep. No matter How proud or great we are, no one shall have More than six feet of territory there.

Look! how they bear his lordly litter now!

THE KING.

Yes, life is dark; the tomb alone is bright.

If you were not at hand to cheer me up--

L'ANGELY.

Alas! I came to-day to say farewell.

THE KING.

What's that?

L'ANGELY.

I leave you!

THE KING.

You're a crazy fool!

Death, only, frees from royal service.

L'ANGELY.

Well, I am about to die!

THE KING.

Have you gone mad?

L'ANGELY.

You have condemned me--you, the King of France!

THE KING.

If you are joking, fool, explain yourself.

L'ANGELY.