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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=534047" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Father’s Curse</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">[LE ROI S'AMUSE, Act I.]</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>M. ST. VALLIER (_an aged nobleman, from whom King Francis I.<br>decoyed his daughter, the famous beauty, Diana of<br>Poitiers_).</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A king should listen when his subjects speak:<br>'Tis true your mandate led me to the block,<br>Where pardon came upon me, like a dream;<br>I blessed you then, unconscious as I was<br>That a king's mercy, sharper far than death,<br>To save a father doomed his child to shame;<br>Yes, without pity for the noble race<br>Of Poitiers, spotless for a thousand years,<br>You, Francis of Valois, without one spark<br>Of love or pity, honor or remorse,<br>Did on that night (thy couch her virtue's tom,<br>With cold embraces, foully bring to scorn<br>My helpless daughter, Dian of Poitiers.<br>To save her father's life a knight she sought,<br>Like Bayard, fearless and without reproach.<br>She found a heartless king, who sold the boon,<br>Making cold bargain for his child's dishonor.<br>Oh! monstrous traffic! foully hast thou done!<br>My blood was thine, and justly, tho' it springs<br>Amongst the best and noblest names of France;<br>But to pretend to spare these poor gray locks,<br>And yet to trample on a weeping woman,<br>Was basely done; the father was thine own,<br>But not the daughter!--thou hast overpassed<br>The right of monarchs!--yet 'tis mercy deemed.<br>And I perchance am called ungrateful still.<br>Oh, hadst thou come within my dungeon walls,<br>I would have sued upon my knees for death,<br>But mercy for my child, my name, my race,<br>Which, once polluted, is my race no more.<br>Rather than insult, death to them and me.<br>I come not now to ask her back from thee;<br>Nay, let her love thee with insensate love;<br>I take back naught that bears the brand of shame.<br>Keep her! Yet, still, amidst thy festivals,<br>Until some father's, brother's, husband's hand<br>('Twill come to pass!) shall rid us of thy yoke,<br>My pallid face shall ever haunt thee there,<br>To tell thee, Francis, it was foully done!...</div><div style="margin:10px 0">TRIBOULET _(the Court Jester), sneering._ The poor man<br>raves.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">ST. VILLIER. Accursed be ye both!<br>Oh Sire! 'tis wrong upon the dying lion<br>To loose thy dog! _(Turns to Triboulet)_<br>And thou, whoe'er thou art,<br>That with a fiendish sneer and viper's tongue<br>Makest my tears a pastime and a sport,<br>My curse upon thee!--Sire, thy brow doth bear<br>The gems of France!--on mine, old age doth sit;<br>Thine decked with jewels, mine with these gray hairs;<br>We both are Kings, yet bear a different crown;<br>And should some impious hand upon thy head<br>Heap wrongs and insult, with thine own strong arm<br>Thou canst avenge them! _God avenges mine!_<br>::::<br>Freedom And The World<br>Weak is the People--but will grow beyond all other--<br>Within thy holy arms, thou fruitful victor-mother!<br>O Liberty, whose conquering flag is never furled--<br>Thou bearest Him in whom is centred all the World.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Victor+Hugo">Victor Hugo</a><div class=q>
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M. ST. VALLIER (_an aged nobleman, from whom King Francis I.
decoyed his daughter, the famous beauty, Diana of
Poitiers_).

A king should listen when his subjects speak:
'Tis true your mandate led me to the block,
Where ..."></div>
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