Act V, Scene i | Mother Marguerite, Sister Martha, Sister Claire, other sisters. |
| SISTER MARTHA (to Mother Marguerite): |  Sister Claire glanced in the mirror, once—nay, twice, to see if her coif | | suited. |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE (to Sister Claire): | | 'Tis not well. |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | But I saw Sister Martha take a plum | | Out of the tart. |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE (to Sister Martha): | | That was ill done, my sister. |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | A little glance! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | And such a little plum! |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | I shall tell this to Monsieur Cyrano. |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | Nay, prithee do not!—he will mock! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | He'll say we nuns are vain! |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | And greedy! |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE (smiling): | | Ay, and kind! |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | Is it not true, pray, Mother Marguerite, | | That he has come, each week, on Saturday | | For ten years, to the convent? |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | Ay! and more! | | Ever since—fourteen years ago—the day | | His cousin brought here, 'midst our woolen coifs, | | The worldly mourning of her widow's veil, | | Like a blackbird's wing among the convent doves! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | He only has the skill to turn her mind | | From grief—unsoftened yet by Time—unhealed! |
| ALL THE SISTERS: | | He is so droll!—It's cheerful when he comes!— | | He teases us!—But we all like him well!— | | —We make him pasties of angelica! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | But, he is not a faithful Catholic! |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | We will convert him! |
| THE SISTERS: | | Yes! Yes! |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | I forbid, | | My daughters, you attempt that subject. Nay, | | Weary him not—he might less oft come here! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | But. . .God. . . |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | Nay, never fear! God knows him well! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | But—every Saturday, when he arrives, | | He tells me, 'Sister, I eat meat on Friday!' |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | Ah! says he so? Well, the last time he came | | Food had not passed his lips for two whole days! |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | Mother! |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | He's poor. |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | Who told you so, dear Mother? |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | Monsieur Le Bret. |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | None help him? |
| MOTHER MARGUERITE: | | He permits not. | | (In an alley at the back Roxane appears, dressed in black, with a widow's coif | | and veil. De Guiche, imposing-looking and visibly aged, walks by her side. | | They saunter slowly. Mother Marguerite rises): | | 'Tis time we go in; Madame Madeleine | | Walks in the garden with a visitor. |
| SISTER MARTHA (to Sister Claire, in a low voice): | | The Marshal of Grammont? |
| SISTER CLAIRE (looking at him): | | 'Tis he, I think. |
| SISTER MARTHA: | | 'Tis many months now since he came to see her. |
| THE SISTERS: | | He is so busy!—The Court,—the camp!. . . |
| SISTER CLAIRE: | | The world! |
| (They go out. De Guiche and Roxane come forward in silence, and stop close to | | the embroidery frame.) |
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