No More Learning

DAME BERARDE: I should think he was
Some noble lord.

BLANCHE: No! Lords, my father says,
Are men of little faith or honesty.
I hope he is a poor young scholar, filled
With noble thoughts rather than noble blood.
How long it is to Sunday! Would he were
Kneeling before me here. I then would say
Be happy, for I----

[_The_ KING _comes from behind the tree, and kneels
before her. _

THE KING: Love you! Say it sweet:
I love you!

BLANCHE: If my father comes! Ah, go!

THE KING: Go? When my life is bound to yours? Sweet Blanche,
There is one heavenly thing alone on earth,
And that is love. Glory and wealth and power
Are base and worthless when compared with it.
Blanche, it is happiness your lover brings,
Happiness, shyly waiting on your wish.
Life is a flower, and love the honey of life.
Come, let us taste it, mouth to mouth, my sweet.

[_Taking her in his arms, he kisses her. _

BLANCHE: I do not know your name. Are you a lord?
My father does not like them.

THE KING (_confused_): Yes. . . . My name--
Gaucher Mahiet, a poor young scholar.

DAME BERARDE: Look!
Someone is coming.

[_It is_ TRIBOULET. _Seeing his daughter in the arms of
a man, he rushes forward with a terrible cry.