Alexandre Dumas

“ She smiled.
“That’s your way,” she said; “you are tyrants all of you. You worship a certain beauty, you think of nothing but her. Then you are condemned to death, and whilst walking to the scaffold, you devote to her your last sigh; and now you expect poor me to sacrifice to you all my dreams and my happiness.”
“But who is the beauty you are talking of, Rosa?” said Cornelius, trying in vain to remember a woman to whom Rosa might possibly be alluding.
“The dark beauty with a slender waist, small feet, and a noble head; in short, I am speaking of your flower.” ”

“ She went up to Cornelius, crossing her arms on her heaving breast.
“Oh, sir, sir!” she said, but sobs choked her utterance.
“My good girl,” Cornelius replied with emotion, “what do you wish? I may tell you that my time on earth is short.”
“I come to ask a favour of you,” said Rosa, extending her arms partly towards him and partly towards heaven.
“Don’t weep so, Rosa,” said the prisoner, “for your tears go much more to my heart than my approaching fate, and you know, the less guilty a prisoner is, the more it is his duty to die calmly, and even joyfully, as he dies a martyr. ”

“ Would any one be separated from his suckers? Would one leave them at Dort, when one goes to the Hague? Could one live far from one’s bulbs, when they inclose the grand black tulip? He had time to get hold of them, the scoundrel, he has them about him, he has taken them to the Hague!”
It was like a flash of lightning which showed to Boxtel the abyss of a uselessly-committed crime.
Boxtel sank quite paralysed on that very table, and on that very spot where, some hours before, the unfortunate Van Baerle had so leisurely, and with such intense delight, contemplated his darling bulbs. ”

“ In one moment Cornelius was disarmed, and Gryphus raised and supported; and, bellowing with rage and pain, he was able to count on his back and shoulders the bruises which were beginning to swell like the hills dotting the slopes of a mountain-ridge.
A protocol of the violence practised by the prisoner against his jailor was immediately drawn up, and as it was made on the depositions of Gryphus, it certainly could not be said to be too tame; the prisoner being charged with neither more nor less than with an attempt to murder, for a long time premeditated, with open rebellion. ”

“ And yet, if the truth must be told, this wretch, who had stolen what was the boast of man, and the dowry of a woman, did not consider himself as a thief. He had so intently watched this tulip, followed it so eagerly from the drawer in Cornelius’s dry-room to the scaffold of the Buytenhof, and from the scaffold to the fortress of Loewestein; he had seen it bud and grow in Rosa’s window, and so often warmed the air round it with his breath, that he felt as if no one had a better right to call himself its producer than he had ”

“ But the fair Rosa called him to her side.
“Well, my master,” said Gryphus, holding up his lantern to throw a little light around, “you see in me your new jailer. I am head turnkey, and have all the cells under my care. I am not vicious, but I’m not to be trifled with, as far as discipline goes.”
“My good Master Gryphus, I know you perfectly well,” said the prisoner, approaching within the circle of light cast around by the lantern.
“Halloa! that’s you, Mynheer van Baerle,” said Gryphus. “That’s you; well, I declare, it’s astonishing how people do meet.” ”

“ And at that very moment Gryphus entered.
He held in his hand a huge stick, his eyes glistening with spiteful thoughts, a malignant smile played round his lips, and the whole of his carriage, and even all his movements, betokened bad and malicious intentions.
Cornelius heard him enter, and guessed that it was he, but did not turn round, as he knew well that Rosa was not coming after him.
There is nothing more galling to angry people than the coolness of those on whom they wish to vent their spleen.
The expense being once incurred, one does not like to lose it ”

“ These hundred thousand guilders—and Heaven knows I do not regret them—these hundred thousand guilders I have here in this paper, for they are won by the three bulbs wrapped up in it, which you may take, Rosa, as I make you a present of them.”
“Mynheer Cornelius!”
“Yes, yes, Rosa, you may take them; you are not wronging any one, my child. I am alone in this world; my parents are dead; I never had a sister or a brother. I have never had a thought of loving any one with what is called love, and if any one has loved me, I have not known it. ”

“ If I thus give up the only and last resource which we possess to the uncertain chances of the bad passions of anger and envy, I should never deserve to be forgiven. No, Rosa, no; to-morrow we shall come to a conclusion as to the spot to be chosen for your tulip; you will plant it according to my instructions; and as to the third sucker,”—Cornelius here heaved a deep sigh,—“watch over it as a miser over his first or last piece of gold; as the mother over her child; as the wounded over the last drop of blood in his veins; watch over it, Rosa! ”

“ This was the hour at which Rosa generally used to leave Cornelius. The hour had struck, but Rosa had not come.
Thus, then, his foreboding had not deceived him; Rosa, being vexed, shut herself up in her room and left him to himself.
“Alas!” he thought, “I have deserved all this. She will come no more, and she is right in staying away; in her place I should do just the same.”
Yet notwithstanding all this, Cornelius listened, waited, and hoped, until midnight; then he threw himself, in his clothes, on his bed.
It was a long and sad night for him; and the day brought no hope to the prisoner. ”

“ Gryphus then understood the danger with which he had been threatened, and he broke out in a volley of the most terrible abuse.
“Indeed,” said Cornelius to him, “you must be a very mean and spiteful fellow, to rob a poor prisoner of his only consolation, a tulip bulb.”
“For shame, my father,” Rosa chimed in, it is indeed a crime you have committed here.”
“Ah, is that you, my little chatterbox?” the old man cried, boiling with rage and turning towards her; “don’t you meddle with what don’t concern you, but go down as quickly as possible.” ”

“ All that they cared for was the spectacle, always so attractive to the mob, whose instinctive pride is flattered by it,—the sight of greatness hurled down into the dust.
“Has not,” they would say, “this Cornelius de Witt been locked up and broken by the rack? Shall we not see him pale, streaming with blood, covered with shame?” And was not this a sweet triumph for the burghers of the Hague, whose envy even beat that of the common rabble; a triumph in which every honest citizen and townsman might be expected to share? ”

“ Gryphus, perceiving an unknown and consequently a forbidden object in the hands of his prisoner, pounced upon it, with the same rapidity as the hawk on its prey.
As ill luck would have it, his coarse, hard hand, the same which he had broken, and which Cornelius Van Baerle had set so well, grasped at once in the midst of the jug on the spot where the bulb was lying in the soil.
“What have you got here?” he roared. “Ah! hare I caught you?” and with this he grubbed in the soil.
“I? nothing, nothing,” cried Cornelius, trembling. ”

“ And would you accept the lot of being the wife of a prisoner?”
“As the wife of Mynheer Van Baerle, I should, under any circumstances, be the proudest and happiest woman in the world; but——”
“But, what?”
“I dare not say, Monseigneur.”
“There is something like hope in your tone—what do you hope?”
She raised her moist and beautiful eyes, and looked at William with a glance full of meaning, which was calculated to stir up in the recesses of his heart the clemency which was slumbering there.
“Ah! I understand you,” he said.
Rosa, with a smile, clasped her hands. ”

“ Rosa smiled with a melancholy air.
“Ah!” she said, “your tulip has been in such danger.”
Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and allowed himself to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as such.
“Danger!” he cried, quite alarmed, “what dauger?”
Rosa looked at him with gentle compassion; she felt that what she wished was beyond the power of this man, and that he must be taken, as he was, with his little foible.
“Yes,” she said, “you have guessed the truth, that suitor and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my account.”
“And what did he come for?” Cornelius anxiously asked. ”

“ Cornelius interrupted her.
“Once more, pardon me, Rosa!” he cried. “I was wrong in saying to you what I said. I have asked your pardon for that unfortunate speech before. I ask it again: shall I always ask it in vain?”
“On the following day,” Rosa continued, “remembering what you had told me about the stratagem which I was to employ to ascertain whether that odious man was after the tulip, or after me——”
“Yes, yes, odious. Tell me,” he said, “do you hate that man?”
“I do hate him,” said Rosa, “as he is the cause of all the unhappiness I have suffered these eight days.” ”

“ You understand that you must not separate from it for an instant.”
“But whilst I am not separating from it, I am separating from you, Mynheer Cornelius.”
“Ah! that’s true, my sweet Rosa. Oh, my God! how wicked men are! What have I done to offend them, and why have they deprived me of my liberty? You are right, Rosa, I cannot live without you. Well, you will send some one to Haarlem,—that’s settled; really, the matter is wonderful enough for the President to put himself to some trouble. He will come himself to Loewestein to see the tulip.” ”

“ How often did Boxtel, in the midst of tortures which no pen is able fully to describe,—how often did he feel an inclination to jump down into the garden during the night, to destroy the plants, to tear the bulbs with his teeth, and to sacrifice to his wrath the owner himself, if he should venture to stand up for the defence of his tulips!
But to kill a tulip was a horrible crime in the eyes of a genuine tulip-fancier; as to killing a man, it would not have mattered so very much. ”

“ Rosa nearly swooned, for Cornelius was designated as a dangerous prisoner, and recommended by the Prince to the especial surveillance of the jailer.
Nothing could have been more agreeable to Boxtel than this question.
“This prisoner,” he said, “is a man whose name in itself will prove to your Highness what trust you may place in his probity. He is a prisoner of state, who was once condemned to death.”
“And his name?”
Rosa hid her face in her hands with a movement of despair.
“His name is Cornelius van Baerle,” said Boxtel, “and he is godson of that villain Cornelius de Witt.” ”

“ Boxtel bowed with a heart full of joy, and received the congratulations of the President.
“You, my child,” William of Orange continued, “you were going to commit a crime. I will not punish you; but the real evil-doer shall pay the penalty for both. A man of his name may be a conspirator, and even a traitor, but he ought not to be a thief.”
“A thief!” cried Rosa. “Cornelius a thief? Pray, your Highness, do not say such a word, it would kill him, if he knew it. If theft there has been, I swear to you, Sir, no one else but this man has committed it.” ”

“ My instructions?”
“Indeed, your instructions, sir,” said Rosa, sighing in her turn; “have you forgotten the will written by your hand on the Bible of Cornelius de Witt? I have not forgotten it; for now, as I know how to read, I read it every day over and over again. In that will you bid me to love and marry a handsome young man of twenty-six or eight years. I am on the look-out for that young man, and as the whole of my day is taken up with your tulip, you must needs leave me the evenings to find him.” ”

“ All the tulip-fanciers—that is to say, all the intelligent people of Europe—will feel a thrill of excitement when the rumour spreads to the four quarters of the globe: The grand black tulip is found! ‘How is it called?’ the fanciers will ask.—‘Tulipa nigra Barlœnsis!’—‘Why Barlœnsis?’—‘After its grower, Van Baerle,’ will be the answer.—‘And who is this Van Baerle?’—‘It is the same who has already produced five new tulips: the Jane, the John de Witt, the Cornelius de Witt, etc.’ Well, that is what I call my ambition. It will cause tears to no one. ”

“ I have three hundred of them in my loft.”
“To the devil with your tulips!” cried Cornelius; “you are worthy of each other: had I a hundred thousand millions of them, I would gladly give them for the one which you have just destroyed.”
“Oh, so!” Gryphus said, in a tone of triumph; “now there we have it. It was not your tulip you cared for. There was in that false bulb some witchcraft, perhaps some means of correspondence with conspirators against his Highness who has granted you your life. I always said they were wrong in not cutting your head off.”
“Father, father!” cried Rosa. ”

“ All the joy of my life has still to come from you.”
And as the lips of Van Baerle approached the grating with the same ardor as the day before, and as, moreover, the hour for retiring had struck, Rosa drew back her head, and stretched out her hand.
In this pretty little hand, of which the coquettish damsel was particularly proud, was the bulb.
Cornelius kissed most tenderly the tips of her fingers. Did he do so because the hand kept one of the bulbs of the great black tulip, or because this hand was Rosa’s? We shall leave this point to the decision of wiser heads than ours. ”

“ But on arriving in the great market-place Rosa at once stopped, a sudden thought had struck her, just as Homer’s Minerva seizes Achilles by the hair at the moment when he is about to be carried away by his anger.
“Good Heaven!” she muttered to herself, “I have made a grievous blunder; it may be I have ruined Cornelius, the tulip, and myself. I have given the alarm, and perhaps awakened suspicion. I am but a woman; these men may league themselves against me, and then I shall be lost. ”

“ Rosa was one of those women who are dejected by trifles; but who, in great emergencies, are supplied by the misfortune itself with the energy for combating, or with the resources for remedying it.
She went to her room, and cast a last glance about her, to see whether she had not been mistaken, and whether the tulip was not stowed away in some corner, where it had escaped her notice. But she sought in vain; the tulip was still wanting; the tulip was indeed stolen. ”

“ It has been in the ground for these six days.”
“Where? and how?” cried Cornelius. Good Heaven! what imprudence. Where is it? In what sort of soil is it? In what aspect? Good or bad? Is there no risk of having it filched by that detestable Jacob?”
“There is no danger of its being stolen,” said Rosa, “unless Jacob will force the door of my chamber.”
“Oh! then it is with you in your bed-room?” said Cornelius, somewhat relieved. “But in what soil? in what vessel? You don’t let it grow, I hope, in water, like those good ladies of Haarlem and Dort, who magine that water could replace the earth?” ”

“ I should surely kill myself, I should be picked up maimed and crippled; I should be labelled, and put on exhibition in the museum at the Hague between the blood-stained doublet of William the Taciturn and the female walrus captured at Stavesen, and the only result of my enterprise will have been to procure me a place among the curiosities of Holland.
“But no; and it is much better so. Some fine day Gryphus will commit some atrocity. I am losing my patience, since I have lost the joy and company of Rosa, and especially since I have lost my tulip. ”

“ Boxtel, once more worsted by the superiority of his hated rival, was now completely disgusted with tulip-growing, and, being driven half mad, devoted himself entirely to observation.
The house of his rival was quite open to view; a garden exposed to the sun; cabinets with glass walls, shelves, cupboards, boxes, and ticketed pigeon-holes, which could easily be surveyed by the telescope. Boxtel allowed his bulbs to rot in the pits, his seedlings to dry up in their cases, and his tulips to wither in the borders and henceforward occupied himself with nothing else but the doings at Van Baerle’s. ”