Mireille

“ I rush to Mireille and try to drag her away from the railing, to free her ... I cannot. My fingers have no strength. She is crying and moaning. I hear Glotz shouting again to me in German—"Get away—get away!" He is struggling with the tall man to give me time to escape. I stumble up the stairs screaming, "Louise! Louise!" I fall, again and again, at almost every step, but I stumble on and reach her door—it is locked. Locked from the inside. But I hear sounds in the room—a man's hoarse agitated voice.... ”

“ Notwithstanding this, there are many charming pages in "Mireille," strongly marked with the composer's individuality, suggestive of warm sunshine and southern skies. If the opera is emphatically a disappointment when considered as a whole, if it absolutely fails to carry conviction as a musical drama, if it is full of contradictions of style and concessions to the vocalist, it may at least claim to be replete with melody of a refined nature and to contain several numbers that are always heard with pleasure. ”

“ Mireille, who followed her, caught sight of Amour in Chérie's arms and heard him whine.
"What have you done to him?" she said, turning fiercely on Von Wedel.
He laughed. "Well, well, what a little vixen!" he said. Then he added, "You can take the dog away. I don't like dogs." Chérie moved at once towards the staircase, but he stopped her again. "No, no; give the dog to the vixen. You stay here."
Chérie obeyed, shrinking away from him to Louise's side, while Mireille ran upstairs with Amour and took him to Chérie's room. ”

“ Then Louise forced herself to remember what she would have given her life to forget. With eyes closed, with shuddering soul, she compelled herself to live over again the darkest hours of her life.
... Before daybreak on the 5th of August. The house was silent. The invaders had gone. Louise, a livid spectre in the pale grey dawn, had staggered from her room—passing the dead Amour on Chérie's threshold—and had stumbled down the stairs. There at the foot of the wrought-iron banister lay Mireille, her mouth open, her breath coming in gasps, like a little dying bird. ”

“ On her recovery she wrote some little verses wherein she thanked God that He had spared her [163] life and taken her beauty. Could you have done that? Alas, when I was young I came exceeding short of it in grace. I mind me, when I was some ten years old, being deeply incensed against God, in that He had not made me “Madame de France”! My soul was a veritable well of vanity and amour-propre.’
‘So is mine!’ cried Madeleine, with eager pride.
Again Mère Agnès looked much amused.
‘My child, ’tis a strange cause for pride! And bear in mind, I am the last creature to take as your pattern. ”

“ A VISIT TO THE ABBAYE OF PORT-ROYAL
Madeleine’s bitter self-reproaches for her own weakness were of no avail. She had to acknowledge once and for all that she had not the force to stand out against another personality and tell them in cold blood things they would not like. She could hedge and be lukewarm—as when Jacques wished to be formally affianced—but once she had got into a false position she could not, if the feelings of others were involved, extricate herself in a strong, straightforward way. Would God be angry that she had not set up the Bethel she had promised? ”

“ Was borne aloft Mirèio’s faltering prayer:—
“O holy Maries, who can cheer
The sorrow-laden,
Lend, I beseech, a pitying ear
To one poor maiden!
“And when you see my cruel care
And misery,
Then look in mercy down the air,
And side with me!
“I am so young, dear Saints above,
And there’s a youth—
My handsome Vincen—whom I love
With utter truth!
“I love him as the wayward stream
Its wanderings;
As loves the new-fledged bird, I deem,
To try its wings. ”

“ My old mistress in the Convent would shake her head if she heard of it, but I care not who blames me to-day, if you do not, Pierre!”
“Who can blame you, darling? What you do is ever wisest and best in my eyes, except one thing, which I will confess now that you are my own, I cannot account for—”
“I had hoped, Pierre, there was no exception to your admiration; you are taking off my angel's wings already, and leaving me a mere woman!” ”

“ THE GIRL
Good evening, Tyltyl!... You called me: here I am!...
TYLTYL
Hullo, it's Milette!... (To THE FAIRY.) This is Milette, my cousin, the daughter of Feltree, the wood-cutter.... We see each other sometimes in the forest.... (To MILETTE.) So you loved me?... You never said so!...
MILETTE
Do people say such things in a life where everything is forbidden? Need they say them?... But I knew at once and from the first that you loved me; and so did I love you.... It was one evening when you went past with your father. ”

“ Berthe leered and winked. ‘Well, Mademoiselle,’ she said, ‘Love is one thing—marriage is another. Monsieur Jacques could not give Mademoiselle a coach and a fine hôtel in the Rue de Richelieu. I understand Mademoiselle exceeding well, in that we are not unlike in some matters,’ and she gave her grotesque grin. ‘As for me, I would never wed with a man except he could raise me to a better condition than mine own—else what would it profit one? But if some plump little tradesman were to come along——’
‘But did you hold that I would wed with Monsieur Jacques?’ Madeleine persisted. ”

“ Miladi was sitting by the small casement window, in one of her pretty silken gowns, long laid by. There was a dainty rose flush on her cheek, but the hand she held out was much thinner than of yore, when in the place of knuckles there were dimples.
"Where have you been all these days when I have not seen you, little maid? Come here and kiss me, and wish me joy, as they do in old France. For I am going to take your favorite as a husband, and you are to be our little daughter." ”

“ I would that people were more inclined to such pleasant antics!’
‘In good earnest I did not,’ said Madeleine severely. ‘But I feigned not to be interested when she talked, and averted my eyes from her as if the sight of her worked on my stomach. Oh! what will she think of me?’
‘Well, I don’t know, Chop,’ Jacques said dubiously; ‘it seems you used arts to show yourself in such colours as ’twould be hard to like!’
‘Do people never take likings to bashful, surly people?’ she persisted.
‘I fear me they are apt to prefer smooth-spoken, courtly ones,’ he answered with a smile. ”

“ The mourner's gratitude, deep and full, was their comfort and reward.
"My mistress," said Miriam, in an entreating respectful voice as they turned towards the city in weary sad silence, "thou art much in need of rest; wilt thou not proceed home, for the gathering of our people will be well-nigh broken up ere we pass by?" Miriam was wise and good, she loved her mistress fervently, and was trusted and treated as a companion, not as a liberated slave. ”

“ The young maid was almost foaming with fury, for Miriam regarded her own spotless character as something more precious than life; it had never been so much as breathed on before, and her naturally fiery temper was all in a blaze in a moment.
"Miriam, there is no use in being so angry," said her mistress, Mrs. Mellor, with quiet dignity of manner. "No one wishes to accuse you unjustly, or to believe anything against you. I merely asked Caroline if she knew what had become of the silver knife which, as you are both well aware, usually lies on the drawing-room table. ”

“ And I think, dear child, ’twill fall out thus with you.’
Madeleine was deeply moved. Mère Agnès’s words, like the tales of a traveller, had stirred in her soul a wanderlust. It felt the lure of the Narrow Way, and was longing to set off on its pilgrimage. For the moment, she did not shrink from “the love of invisible things,” but would actually have welcomed the ghostly, ravishing arms.
‘Oh, tell me, tell me, what I can do to be holy?’ she cried imploringly.
‘You can do nothing, my child, but “watch and pray.” It lies not in us to be holy. ”

“ O Miriam, come to me, I need you more now than ever before. Come, I am waiting with outstretched arms.
Yes, she is coming. I see the yet distant form of the one I love. She is approaching, coming ever nearer. Miriam, what happiness we shall yet have together, in the dusk of our lives, what pleasant hours here by the fire—
Death, kindly death, come now to me. She passed by my shop and turned the corner and went toward the station. Her heart then is still cold as stone. ”

“ Mitri, her own beloved Mitri—dear and good, it is true, but somewhat of a "softy," a purposeless dreamer,—now a priest, and above all a missionary! His mother could hardly believe her senses. This was the son to whom but a few years before she had written: "It is a wretched thing that a youth of eighteen should be a child. He can not, of course, as yet be a man; but he must be a youth and no longer a child, if he ever means to be a man."
And now Princess Amalie had a hard time of it. ”

“ Mirelle was silent.
'I am pointing out to you a duty. You have seen no priest since you were married; you must suffer me to be your director. Has not what I urge struck you before?'
'No,' answered Micelle, faintly. 'But see! I can do much that you say, and yet live in France. I will endow a mission at Boscastle and build there a church.'
'You cannot set a missioner there without a soul to support him. He must have one or two Catholics near, or he can do nothing. Now you understand what I said. If you fly abroad you take trouble along with you, and you will not rest in your convent. ”

“ Miriamne; let the illusion work; sleep the Leathen sleep; yield to love’s dream; then comes the full noon to awaken to marriage joy. Thou wilt find, not above thee but at thy side, then, the teacher, guide; shepherd as well; but also the husband.”
Miriamne had reached a point of hesitancy, which is, in all lives, just a step from surrender, and the lover, made alert by his ardor, perceived the advantage. Though a prey to hopes and fears, an incarnation of paradoxes, in which bashfulness contested with audacity for control of the will, he gathered all his powers into a grand charge. ”

“ His father and Geraldine have always told him he should marry me, and once when some one teased him of you, I heard him say that he shouldn’t want to marry a woman unless he knew something of her family, for fear they might prove to be paupers, or even worse. Oh, Milly, Milly, I didn’t mean to make you cry!” and jumping upon the floor, the impulsive Lilian wound her arms around Mildred, whose tears were dropping fast. ”

“ Mirelle raised her hand in protest, but in vain. The strong will and determination of the Captain was more than she could resist in her present weak condition.
'Listen now to me, dear Mirelle,' he said, and, leaving the fire, came towards her. 'The barrier that has stood between us has fallen. What is there now to hinder you from becoming my wife? I have loved you from the first moment that I saw you, and—do not deny it—you have loved me. You married a man for whom you did not care—a worthy man, but not one a heart like yours could cling to, even if disengaged ”

“ I used to think maybe he’d fall in love with Milly; but,—Geraldine says she knows too much for a man like him really to care for; and I guess she does, for anybody can see I’m a simpleton,—and he certainly likes me the best,—don’t he, Milly? Why, how red your cheeks are,—and no wonder, it’s so hot in this pent-up room. Let’s go down,” and without waiting for an answer, Lilian tripped down the stairs, followed by Mildred and Oliver,—the latter having forgotten his headache in the pleasure of seeing his former playmate. ”

“ Madeleine blushed, and answered nervously:—
‘Yes, ’tis good for the spleen—the doctor told me so—also, if you will, ’tis a caprice——’
‘How ravishing to be a woman!’ sighed Jacques. ‘One can be as great a visionnaire as one will and be thought to have rare parts withal, whereas, if a man were to pass his time in cutting capers up and down the room, he’d be shut up in les petites maisons. ”

“ She had lovely golden hair for one thing, and then, although she looked no older than Madeleine herself, who was about seven at the time, she was dressed in a velvet bodice covered with Genoese point, and—infinitely grander—she was actually wearing what to Madeline had always seemed one of the attributes of magnificent eld, to wit, a real stomacher, all stiff with busks and embroidered in brightly coloured silks with flowers and enchanting beasts—a thing as lovely and magical as the armour of Achilles in the woodcut that hung in the parlour at home. ”

“ She felt a need for space and fresh air, and hastily put on her pattens, mask, and cloak. As she came out of her room, her mother appeared from the parlour.
‘Madeleine—dear life—whither in the name of madness, are you bound? You cannot be contemplating walking alone? Why, ’twill soon be dusk! Jacques should shortly return, and he’ll accompany you!’
This was unbearable. In a perfect frenzy, lest the spell should be broken, Madeleine gathered up her petticoats and made a dash for the staircase.
‘Madeleine! Madeleine! Is the child demented? Come back! ”

“ Her love, till her frail stem breaks with the strain.
“Now free at last, but dying, she doth raise
Her pale lips for her sister’s last embrace.
So I! One kiss, and I will die to-night!
We are all alone!” Mirèio’s cheek grew white.
Then sprang he, wild-eyed as a lissome beast,
And clasped her. Hurriedly the maid released
Herself from his too daring touch. ”

“ Also—though she had got rid of the hateful trimming, her petite-oie was still incomplete. Should she risk keeping Madame Cornuel waiting and go first to the man in the Temple? No, charms or no charms, she was moving on to her destiny, and felt deadly calm. What she had prayed for was coming and she could not stop it now. Its inevitableness frightened her, and she began to feel a poignant longing for the old order, the comforting rhythm of the rut she was used to, with the pleasant feeling of every day drawing nearer to a miraculous transformation of her circumstances. ”