CHARLES (seizing the hand of AGNES).
My Agnes, be not sorrowful!
Beyond the Loire we still shall find a France;
We are departing to a happier land,
Where laughs a milder, an unclouded sky,
And gales more genial blow; we there shall meet
More gentle manners; song abideth there,
And love and life in richer beauty bloom.

SOREL.
Oh, must I contemplate this day of woe!
The king must roam in banishment! the son
Depart, an exile from his father's house,
And turn his back upon his childhood's home!
Oh, pleasant, happy land that we forsake,
Ne'er shall we tread thee joyously again.



SCENE VIII.

LA HIRE returns, CHARLES, SOREL.

SOREL.
You come alone? You do not bring him back?
[Observing him more closely.
La Hire! What news? What does that look announce?
Some new calamity?

LA HIRE.