George Sand

“ But do not leave us again; for, with or without your love, we are and desire always to be your family, your friends, your defenders, your slaves, whatever you wish us to be, provided that you permit us to love you and serve you."
Lauriane pressed Mario's loyal hands in hers.
"You are an angel," she said, "and it requires courage on my part to refuse you. But I love you too well to chain your brilliant destiny to mine, melancholy, as it is, and alas! complete; I love your father too well to be willing to cause him this sorrow." ”

“ Still, Monsieur de Beuvre was one of the best; for he had no idea of betraying his flag. He simply made haste to make his bargain before the flag was dragged in the dust.
It was possible that Lauriane might fall in with an exception to the general rule. There were exceptions, for she herself was one. She did not fall in with them, perhaps because she was so pensive and distraught that she did not know how to look for them.
Youth and beauty are justifiably proud. They wait to be discovered and reveal naught themselves, because they dread to have the appearance of offering themselves. ”

“ Clindor could not believe that it was a human voice.
"No, no," he said, "either that is a shepherd's pipe, or somebody is killing a kid."
"It is a human being expiring in torture," said Monsieur Poulain; "I know that frightful music only too well!"
"Let us hasten then!" cried Mario; "we may be in time to save an unfortunate fellow creature. Come, come, monsieur l'abbé! The peace is signed; no one has the right to torture Huguenots!" ”

“ He could teach both of us!"
"Faith, my girl," cried De Beuvre, puffing himself out, "you dote too much on the Beaux Messieurs de Bois-Doré, and it seems to me that I am no longer of much account in your eyes. You seem to think a vast deal of their grief and nothing at all of my consent, since you turn a deaf ear to me when I speak of Guillaume d'Ars."
"Guillaume d'Ars is a good friend," replied Lauriane, "but he is too old as a husband for me. He will soon be thirty years old, and he knows the world too well; he would soon begin to consider me silly or uncivilized. ”

“ As they rapidly ascended one of the narrow undulating roads, lined with hedges, which served the purposes of streets between the thirty or forty firesides of which the village consisted, Mario's horse, which was leading, shied and snorted with terror.
"What is that?" said the child, sitting like a rock in his saddle. "A drunken man asleep in the road? Pick him up, Aristandre, and take him to his family."
"Monsieur le comte," replied the coachman, who had instantly dismounted, "if he is drunk, you might say he is dead drunk, for he doesn't move any more than a stone." ”

“ Mario de Bois-Doré—the reader will assume that it is he whom I am describing—was the comeliest cavalier in the whole army. The development of his youthful strength had in no wise diminished the wonderful charm of his noble and intelligent face. His expression was like an angel's in purity; but the sprouting beard reminded one that this youth with the divine glance was but a simple mortal; and that young moustache faintly outlined the curve of a smile, somewhat indifferent, perhaps, but with a cordial kindliness showing through its melancholy. ”

“ It was on a delightful evening in spring that Mario and Lauriane were strolling about the enclosure at Briantes, laughing together in tones as melodious as those of the nightingale, when they saw Mercedes running toward them in consternation.
"Come, come, my beloved lady," she said, throwing her arms about her young friend; "let us try to escape; they shall not take you until they have killed me."
"And what of me?" cried Mario, picking up his little rapier, Which he had thrown on the ground in order to play more freely. "But what is the matter, Mercedes?" ”

“ There wouldn't be a fête at the château without you and monsieur le marquis. They are fighting! Do you hear how they are yelling and cursing? And see, there's another dead man, or a horribly wounded Christian, at the foot of the wall! Fly, monsieur; hide, for the love of God! I will go to see what the matter is, and come back and tell you."
"You are laughing at me!" cried Mario, tearing himself free; "hide, when they are attacking my father's château? What about my Lauriane? let us hasten to her defence!" ”

“ Mario soon wearied of the absurd rôle he was compelled to play. In vain did he try to transform that nature, incapable as it was of loving the right for the right's sake, or even of conceiving that Mario or anyone else on earth could so love it.
"If you did not love that Lauriane so madly," she said to him with appalling frankness, "you would entrust me with your vengeance; for she always has despised you and always will." ”

“ Poor Mario ran forward, weeping bitterly.
"Father," he cried, throwing himself into his arms, "she is a wicked girl. I was trying to bring her to you to show you what she has on her hands. She touched my ruff, saying that it was stained, and it is she who puts the stains on it; she wants to make you feel grieved and prevent you from loving me. She takes advantage of the foolish things I do to put other wicked things on my back. Father, she isn't a good woman; she makes you think I am a liar, and, if you believe her——"
"No, no, my son, I do not believe her!" cried the marquis.—"Adamas!" ”

“ Mario seized the handkerchief, which might have betrayed their identity, and tossed it into the hot fire, where it disappeared like a match.
Jacques wiped away the blood and bandaged his wound with a napkin.
"Don't be alarmed," he said to Madame Pignoux; "they let me come here to wait on them. Give me the larding-knife, and the night shall not pass without my ripping up one or two of them."
"You will get yourself killed," said the hostess. "That's of no consequence," replied Jacques. ”

“ Then, when it had seemed to him beyond question that Richelieu, despite all his warfare against the Reformed religion, had adopted as an inflexible policy the maintenance of the Edict of Nantes in favor of liberty of conscience in every form, he had decided to await Mario's marriage to Lauriane or to some other woman who had won his heart. Whatever his dear pupil's frame of mind might be, whatever hope or regret, placid expectation or secret excitement, he did not choose to set before him the selfish and perilous spectacle of a marriage for love. ”

“ Mario knew nothing of the subtle distinctions of words. He simply felt an intolerable heart-ache, the only deep-rooted and lasting torture.
He said: "I love Lauriane;" and if he had been asked with what kind of love, he would have answered in good faith that there were not two kinds. Pure as the angels, he had the true ideal of life, which is to love for the sake of loving.
As soon as De Beuvre and his daughter were left alone, he strongly urged her to decide in favor of Guillaume d'Ars.
"I did not wish to displease the marquis by declaring my preference," he said ”

“ Mario slept poorly and had no appetite the next day. His father took him home, fearing that he would fall ill, and beginning to conclude that it is not well to play with the future of children in their presence. But this tardy repentance did not cure him. His abnormal, romantic brain, which had never ceased to be the brain of a child, could not understand the sound conception of time. Just as he believed that he was still young, so he imagined that Mario was ripe for the kind of love, cold and loquacious, chaste and affected, with which Astrée had permeated his mind. ”

“ Pilar, incapable of any sort of moral reasoning, was determined to be loved; she described her passion with a species of wild eloquence, saying and believing that it was chaste, because it was not governed by the senses, and sublime, because it had all the fervor of an unbridled imagination and a wilful temper. She heaped curses upon Lauriane and bitter reproaches upon Mario, exhibiting her mad passion shamelessly before poor Clindor, who took fire beside that volcano. ”