G. P. R. James

“ A bright flush played over the pale cheek of the dwarf, like a gleam of summer lightning upon the twilight sky, and his nether lip quivered; but for some moments he made no reply, except by again clasping his hands together, and gazing down upon the ground, as if in deep meditation. "Lady!" he said at length, "you love him still! I doubt it not; for yours is one of those firm hearts, on which a line once engraved can never be effaced. But alas, alas! he loves not you; and all your sad experience will not convince you, solely because you still love him."
"Not so, Bartholo," replied Beatrice. ”

“ Throughout the whole room there was a faint odour, as if of bitter almonds; and Henry, who well remembered that same perfume, when some of the noblest in France had died somewhat suddenly, exclaimed at once as he entered, "She has poisoned herself!"
"Too true, I fear, my lord!" replied St. Real; "but a leech has been sent for."
"In vain! in vain!" said the king. "She is dead already, St. Real! That is no fainting fit; and even were she not dead already, no skill on earth could save her from the tomb. I know that hateful drug too well. Come away, St. Real! Mademoiselle de Menancourt, come away! ”

“ Oh, God! oh, God! that he who, if ever man yet believed the love of woman to be a pure and holy thing, should have held the feelings of my heart most sacred--that he should dare to talk to me the words of shame, the vile sophisms of guilt and infamy; that he should dream that I--I who have stood alone, in the midst of a depraved court, the wonder and hatred of them all--that I should become his paramour, his leman, to be held or discarded at his pleasure--to play him sweet airs upon the lute, and sing to him when he was in the mood, and be called the Italian mistress of the gay Count d'Aubin! ”

“ Let her trample upon that black thing, his heart, and sport with his torture, and deceive his love, and betray his confidence, till he know not where to find faith or truth in all the world; for, the moment that he believes her true, or kind, or gentle, or affectionate, he turns a serpent which would sting her, and poison for her the life, the feelings, the happiness, she is ever ready to devote to him. Out of my sight, traitor, I say! Why linger you here?"
"Hear me! hear me, Beatrice!" cried D'Aubin, rising and attempting to take her hand. "Hear me! I meant not to offend you! I am no traitor. ”

“ Beatrice of Ferrara had never entered his chamber since the day when, believing him to be in the agonies of death, she had cast off all reserve, and given way to that passionate burst of grief, which revealed to all around the secret of her heart's inmost shrine. Feeble as he had been at that moment, D'Aubin had not failed to mark and understand the whole; but in sickness, and with death at our right hand, we feel such things in a manner different from that in which they affect us in the high glow of insolent health, and all the vanity of life and expectation. ”

“ The same ignorance has made me harsh to you, and unjust towards my cousin St. Real; and I will not rise from my knee till you have heard my exculpation, and fully know how much we have all been deceived."
"Indeed!" said Eugenie, "indeed! yet I am at a loss to guess what you can mean."
"Well may you be so, Eugenie!" replied D'Aubin; "well may you be so! For it was only yesterday that I learned the elucidation of the mystery myself. You have been cheated, Eugenie; you have been deceived; you have been taught to believe a man who loved you, and you alone, a heartless profligate. ”

“ The warm blood spread red and glowing over Eugenie's fair face. "I know not whom you mean, Beatrice," she said, gravely: "I know none that love me; and few that are capable of loving at all--if you speak of men."
"Nay, ask me not his name!" said Beatrice, the gaiety of her tone increasing, as she marked, or thought she marked, a greater degree of confusion in her friend's countenance than the subject would have produced in other persons brought up regularly in the sweet and pleasant pastime of deceit. ”

“ They, when their honour is assailed, could clear themselves without revenge; they could call their comrades to judge of their conduct; but, with us, the very whisper is destruction; and no proof of innocence ever gives us back that pure, untarnished name which is our only honour; we can have no exculpation, we can have no redress, and vengeance is all that is left us."
Eugenie was silent, and Beatrice gazed upon her, for a moment or two, with a smile, adding, at last, "But no--no, Eugenie, such thoughts and such feelings are not for you. ”

“ He saw Beatrice in all her beauty, and in all her excellence, it is true, and he loved her better than any other upon earth; and yet, as health returned, came back the thoughts that he had known in health--the vanity, the pride, the levity. The heart of man can love as deeply and as fondly as that of woman; and who denies it such capability, libels it most foully; but the heart of man or woman either, worn by the touch of follies and of vices, soon loses its power to love: the temple is profaned, and the god will no longer dwell therein. ”

“ Know, then, my most excellent, simple cousin, that since the ninth century a great quarrel has taken place between words and realities, and that they have separated, never to meet again; that now-a-days promises are of air, honour is a name, virtue a bubble, religion a mask; and while falsehood, hypocrisy, and folly walk about in comely dresses, and make bows to each other in every street, truth lies snug in the bottom of her well, secure in the narrowness of her dwelling, and the depth that covers her. The first thing that every one thinks of now is his own interest ”

“ Real and the king, as if he feared that the young noble were about to assassinate the monarch; "good God, sir! is it possible that any one should present himself before his Majesty in such a plight? Retire, for Heaven's sake! you had better retire!"
St. Real laid his hand upon the attendant's breast to push him back out of his way; but the minion shrank back from the touch of the same stout doe-skin glove with which the young Marquis had parted the contending soldiers in the street, as if a dagger had been at his bosom. ”

“ The old man cast himself at Mayenne's feet and embraced his knees. "Thank you, my lord!" he said: "I thank you, and God will reward you for saving a guiltless man, on whose life some hopes and some affections are still fixed by those he loves; but yet, my lord, one boon--grant me one boon more, and let the cup of your generosity overflow! You have given me life--give me also liberty, and suffer me to retire from a city where each day shows me something either to condemn or to regret, and retire to the court of my lawful sovereign, where alone I can serve my country as I ought." ”

“ At all events, my lord, hope not to find Spartan virtues even in your dearest friend; or, if he do possess such jewels as patriotism, and firmness, and integrity, happy--thrice and fully happy, is he in this place; for nothing is so saleable here as virtue and a tolerably good reputation."
"Spartan virtue in my dearest friend!" said St. Real, repeating the words on which the youth had laid the strongest emphasis. "What mean you by that, Leonard? Tell me, are you frank and honest? If so, you have some meaning! Now, make it a plain one!" ”

“ Mayenne looked towards the Count d'Aubin, who said, in a low and hurried tone, "Never mind the contract, my Lord! let us get over the ceremony in the chapel. That will be sufficient. Marriage is a sacrament, you know, and that once past, it cannot be shaken off."
Mayenne paused for a moment, as if scarcely able to master the reluctance which struggled in his bosom against the fulfilment of his promise to the Count d'Aubin. "Where is Father Herbert?" he asked at last; "Catherine, did you not bring him with you?" ”

“ Interest, interest, interest, is his waking thought and his sleeping dream. Mark me, Huon! Mademoiselle de Menancourt is an heiress--one of the most wealthy in France; young, beautiful!--you know how beautiful, Huon; for, by my faith, I could once have been almost jealous of you."
"Of me!" exclaimed the other, stopping suddenly, and looking full in his cousin's face, while a flush of surprise and indignation, all unmixed with shame, spread scarlet over his cheek and brow. ”

“ You are too young and too gay-looking for a valet in such a dull house as this."
"And too noble," added the youth, "or too proud, if you will. I seek not, sir, to take wages of any man; but I seek to pass a time in some house where the hearts are as noble as the blood they contain, where old feelings are not forgot in new follies; and I would fain that that house were the chateau of St. Real."
"You speak well, good youth, and more like a man than a boy; but somewhat too haughtily too," replied St. Real. ”

“ I never will be your wife! Death were preferable--ay, the most terrible death were preferable to that!"
"Hear me, Eugenie!" said D'Aubin. "Eugenie, you must hear me! for this house is surrounded by my soldiers; you are utterly and perfectly in my power; and if I have recourse to reason and persuasion with you, it is alone from tenderness and affection towards you, and because I would rather induce my bride to accompany me willingly and tranquilly, than use towards her those means of compulsion which I have a right to exercise in regard to a disobedient wife. Eugenie, will you hear me?" ”

“ Eugenie turned as pale as death, and then again the red blood mounted to her cheek with a quick vehement blush: she too felt that there was an infinity to be said, and feared that there might be little time to say it. There was much--she felt there was much--to be staked upon the conversation of the next few instants; and she determined that, whatever report of her sentiments St. Real might bear his cousin, it should be such as to put an end for ever to his hopes of her affection. ”

“ It is I who am a friend to the character of the Duke of Mayenne, by giving him an instant opportunity of clearing it;--and let me say, my lord, if you be not free from share in this business," he added, sternly and boldly, "you may find that you are not the only one who is made angry: for, putting aside all respect to your high rank, and to the station which you hold, I shall urge the matter against you as noble to noble, and gentleman to gentleman."
"Was ever the like heard?" exclaimed Madame de Montpensier. "Heed him not, Brother of Mayenne! heed him not; the man is mad, raving mad!" ”

“ It is my own fault, weak girl that I am--it is my own fault! He thought that she who could go masquerading in boy's attire, and make herself the companion of grooms and horse-boys for his sake--that she who could dare the perils of the camp in a strange guise--could come and go, at the risk of question and discovery, through the gates of a beleaguered city--could bind up his wounds with her own hands, and watch for fourteen nights by the side of his sick bed,--would surely refuse him nothing--no, not her honour. ”

“ Tell me, where is the Lady of Menancourt, and how may I best find her?"
"I dare not stay, sir!" replied the dwarf. "As soon as she enters, she will ask for me; but I will find another opportunity soon, of telling you more. In the mean time, fear not, sir, to press your advantage; for you know not passion's force with those upon whose birth a brighter sun has shone. Remember, I never gave you false information or wrong advice."
"Good faith, no!" said D'Aubin; "but she is coming in! Farewell, and return if you can to-morrow, my good Bartholo." ”

“ Bartholomew?"
"Not I, lady! not I!" exclaimed the perfumer, with a look of disgust and horror at the very name of that fearful massacre. "Not I, indeed! not for the world would I have borne a part, either in that shameful affair, or in the late brutal murder of the great Duke and the Cardinal de Guise."
"Why, how now!" cried Beatrice. "Would you, who hold life so lightly, and take it so carelessly from others; would you affect scruples at slaying those you consider heretics, or at putting away ambitious tyrants?" ”

“ The other who rode beside him, Albert of Wolfstrom, drew his cloak round him, and, as he gazed upon the bleak and desolate landscape, thought of nothing but himself. Mercenary by nature and by habit, he scarcely knew what it is to have a country; and--like many others who believe themselves to be citizens of the world--in truth and in reality, his own individual selfishness was his world, his country, and his home. D'Aubin knew the nature of the man too well to suffer the slightest hint of what was passing in his own bosom to escape his lips ”

“ Should your father die, give sorrow its due; then call your vassals to your standard, and boldly take one part or another. Faith, I care not which it be--Harry of Navarre and his Huguenots, Harry of France and his chevaliers, or Mayenne's brave Duke and the factious League: but for Heaven's sake, Huon, should fate make you Marquis of St. Real, cast off this idle, sluggardly neutrality. ”

“ Her happiness, her misery for life, hung upon the die which other hands were destined to throw; and without the possibility of aiding herself in the slightest degree of changing the fate that awaited her, or arresting its progress for a moment, she was obliged to abide the unknown result in the power of people, whose purposes she neither knew nor could control. Every rumour, every sound, created some new sensation in her bosom. Every change, where change was constant, either raised a momentary hope, or cast her back into the depth of apprehension. ”

“ Real, calmly. "Doubt it not, Philip! I have known her from her childhood, as well as you; and I have often remarked, that, notwithstanding her gaiety--notwithstanding her seeming lightness of feeling, there was, when she knew herself to be right, an unchangeable determination in all her resolves, even in her childhood, that nothing could shake."
"Fie! you know nothing of human nature," replied D'Aubin, with a scoff; "or rather, I should say, of woman's nature. They are light--light, Huon, as a dry leaf borne about upon the breath of every wind that blows. ”

“ Real!" exclaimed D'Aubin, "St. Real! I have more than suspicions there."
"Pshaw!" cried the dwarf; "she thinks not of him. He may love her, perhaps, but she thinks not of him, but as a brave good-humoured lad, with wit enough to lead a score or two of iron-pated soldiers. But, once convince her that you love her, and that those who have told her you loved another were interested deceivers, and you will soon find the ice will melt, and all the coldness pass away. And now, my Lord, I have told you all. ”

“ I never yet knew man that could not, but a plain idiot, or one born dumb. But what is your defence to me? I am neither your judge nor your accuser. If your own heart charges you with ambition, or avarice, or falsehood, plead your cause with it, and, doubtless, you will meet with a most lenient judge. Will you bid the coachman drive on, sir? this is a foolish interruption, and a narrow street."
"Oh, Beatrice!" exclaimed the Count d'Aubin, piqued by her coldness, "at least delay one moment, till you tell me you are well and happy: I have just heard that you have been ill--very ill." ”

“ What matter for pleasure ought he to find in the pain of a person he loved? None, surely none. What is it, then, I feel?" he asked himself; "is it the triumph of having foreseen that Eugenie de Menancourt would resent the slight put upon her? Oh, no! Such a vanity can surely afford no gratification to any reasonable being." Such was the interrogation which St. Real rapidly addressed to his heart; but an instinctive apprehension of finding unknown and dangerous matter at the bottom of his own sensations prevented him from going deep enough. ”

“ The speech of De Sancy was followed by one of those slight murmurs which betoken a vacillation of opinion in a popular assembly. Each man looked in the face of his neighbour; some smiled and nodded to the speaker, as if in approbation of what he had said; some frowned and bit their lips; some whispered eagerly to the persons next whom they sat; and the cheek of the Count d'Aubin, as De Sancy denominated the League "the party of the assassin," grew as red as fire, while the veins in his temple might be seen swelling out through his clear dark skin. ”

“ A thousand things may tempt D'Aubin to quit the royal party. He may come over to the League--he may urge your father's promise--he may obtain the sanction of Mayenne:--what will you do then?"
"Fly to the farthest corner of the earth," replied Eugenie, "sooner than fulfil a promise that was none of mine, and against which my whole heart revolts on every account. Listen, Beatrice; I do believe that, in the moment of need, I shall not want courage, and certainly shall not want resolution. ”

“ The face of the dwarf, which, during the whole of his interview with his lady, had been agitated with strong feelings either of mortification or of joy, now at once resumed the look of calm bitter cynicism, which, though perhaps more natural to his features, was, at all events, more habitual. "Ay, lady!" he said, "so it is ever! There is ever one point more to be made sure of when a lady's love and her judgment lead her different ways; and that one point more will very surely keep your steps from Italy. So I will e'en go and sing."
"Knave, thou art somewhat too bold!" cried Beatrice. ”

“ Little could be seen, except when every now and then the flash of a pistol showed, for an instant apart of that strange and exciting scene, a night skirmish; and it was only by the sounds of blows and shots growing fainter and more faint around, that Beatrice perceived the Leaguers had been beaten and driven up the road by the royal forces. "Is any one of our people hurt?" she cried at length, raising herself, and looking out. "Eugenie, you have not suffered? Take courage, dear friend. Joachim, Joachim, where are you--where are the men?" ”

“ D'Aubin had nothing in the shape of reason to reply, but he had much in the shape of love; and with a heart full of passion, and shame, and regret, he failed not to plead for forgiveness with vehemence and eloquence. Forgetting pride and all its train, he cast himself at her feet; he held her hand when she sought to go; and he poured forth, from the deep feelings in his heart, all those ardent and fiery words which well might move and win. At first Beatrice strove to stay him, and to disengage her hand ”

“ Eugenie had started at his voice, and now looking up she replied, "Were I going willingly to the marriage altar, my Lord Duke, I would change my garb; but what robe, but the robe of mourning, would you have me wear, when you are about to drag me to a fate, in comparison with which the grave itself were happiness. But, my Lord, you mistake me. If, as I am told, marriage must depend upon consent, and that none other is legal, my consent shall never be given to a union with the Count d'Aubin." ”