Rose D'Albret; or, Troublous Times. G. P. R. James

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СКАЧАТЬ this is a very important question; and I told you that I would fain have some repose before I discussed such things! I repeat it, that I could much wish to have some time for consideration and thought, before I make any answer, farther than that I thank you deeply for all the care and kindness which you have always bestowed upon me."

      "Methinks," said his uncle in a tone of displeasure, "that one moment's reflection were enough to show you the propriety of that which is proposed, and to induce you to sign at once the papers necessary to confirm such a well-considered arrangement."

      "Nay, Sir," answered De Montigni, "it might be so, if only the disposition of your property were concerned."

      "And pray what is there more?" asked the Count angrily; "what have I pretended to dispose of, in which I have no right to dictate? I suppose you will not deny, that I am authorized to bestow the hand of my ward where I think proper? What is there else that I dispose of, that is not my own?"

      "Of me, my dear uncle," replied De Montigni. "If I understand you right, I must enter the church. Though some men hold bishoprics without such a process, according to the evil practices of these corrupt days, such cannot be the case long: nor were I one to follow such an iniquitous course. All these benefices by right ought to be held by an ecclesiastic; and I will never hold them but as one. Indeed, what you have said of my studious and thoughtful habits, shows that you know such must be the case. The church, therefore, is to be my destiny under this plan; but surely such a step requires somewhat more than a moment's consideration. It is a question I have never contemplated: it never entered my thoughts. I came hither prepared to throw off my somewhat long-indulged inactivity, to take a part in what is passing in my native land, after due deliberation and inquiry to draw the sword rather than to put on the gown. Nay, more, I should have done so long ago, had you yourself not urged me strongly, in every letter but your last, to remain at Padua and continue my studies, without entering into a strife where family is ranged against family, and brother takes arms against brother."

      "And why did I do so?" asked Monsieur de Liancourt. "Simply because I have long determined on what I have this night announced. Is the rich bishopric, so long in my family, to be lost--to be thrown away for a whim? No, no, Louis. It was that you might be qualified to hold it, and disposed by habit to receive it, that made me wish you to stay where you were."

      "If you had announced your wishes, Sir, before, I should have been better prepared to fulfil them," replied his nephew; "as it is I must have time. There may be men who look upon these things lightly, who could take upon them the solemn vows which bind them to the highest and holiest duties, without care or consideration. They may be right, or they may be wrong; they may be men who, from the course of their life and the habits of their thought, are fully prepared for such a decision, though conscious of its great importance: or they may be those who, never intending to fulfil the obligations of any station in which they are placed, look upon all indifferently. I am in neither of these conditions; I have never considered the subject; I have prepared my mind for other things; but if I do consent, it will be with the determination to act up to the calling I assume, and be an ecclesiastic in spirit and in heart, as well as in name."

      "Oh, if it be only conscientious considerations that withhold you," said his uncle, "those will be soon satisfied by good father Walter. He shall speak with you this very night. You know him, and esteem him."

      "Much," replied De Montigni, "and will gladly converse with him for an hour or two alone on this subject."

      "Why not at once," asked his uncle; "I can call him in a minute, his chamber is but at the end of the passage."

      As he spoke, however, the sound of a trumpet, as was then common in France, announced the hour of supper; and feeling that he could not press the subject further, Monsieur de Liancourt added, "Well, well, afterwards will do; and I doubt not that to-morrow I shall find you quite determined, and willing to sign the papers, and accept the benefices, which shall be made over to you immediately."

      "What are these papers, Sir," asked De Montigni, without giving any reply upon the subject of his willingness.

      "Oh, nothing but common forms," replied his uncle, "I cannot explain them all to you just now, for supper is served. Come, De Montigni."

      "I am not quite ready yet," answered the young Baron, "pray do not wait for me; I will join you in a few minutes."

      His uncle accordingly left him; but instead of proceeding to change his dress, De Montigni covered his eyes with his hands, and gave himself up for a few minutes to bitter and anxious thought. Oh how many wild and tumultuous feelings passed through his bosom during that short space of time! and all were sad and painful. The contemplation of the future, the memory of the past, the consideration of the present, regret, apprehension, indecision, were all present to his mind at once; and, for some time, thought seemed one strange chaos of indistinct and gloomy forms, from which at length rose up one image more painful than all the rest. His mind rested upon Rose d'Albret, and upon the idea of losing her for ever. Remembrance brought her back as the companion of his boyhood; he recollected how she had shared his sports, how she had ridden by his side through the scenes around, how she had taken part in his pleasures and his fancies, how she had soothed him under any of the petty griefs of youth, how she had turned from him anger and reproof, when in the gay light-heartedness of early years he had offended the irritable gravity of age. She had always loved him he thought, and he had always loved her, with the tender and unselfish love of years when passion is unknown. He had ever thought her beautiful,--most beautiful; but it was the kindness, the affection, in her radiant eyes that gave them double light to him; and now he had seen her in the full loveliness of womanly perfection, he had beheld the same looks bent upon him from a face which might well inspire more ardent feelings; and yet he was even now to see her given to another,--now, at the very moment when he had most learnt to long for her himself. Often he had fancied in his boyish dreams that, at some future period she would be his own; that their mutual lives, through maturity and age, would pass in the same happy confidence, in the same warm affection, which had brightened their childhood. He almost believed that some one had told him so, that she had been originally destined for him; and, as his mind rested upon that thought, his disappointment became the more bitter.

      What was to be his future life then? to be cut off from all the joys of domestic life; to embrace that cold and stern profession which, in his church, excluded those who adopted it from all the warm relations of husband and father; to pass his days in the dull routine of formal services, or in the petty intrigues and artful man[oe]uvres which have too often disgraced the Roman hierarchy; to cast from him at once all the dreams and aspirations of young and energetic manhood; and, before his hair was grey, to clothe his mind with the chilly garmenture of age. He shrunk from the thought; but, when he recollected that Rose d'Albret was to be the wife of another, it seemed to him a matter of small moment how his after days were to be passed.

      Such were some of his thoughts, and only some; for there were many, many more; and yet they occupied but a very few minutes. It was not one by one they came, but appeared before him like a hostile army, stretching out at once on every side wherever his eye was turned. Nevertheless he could have gone on for hours, and yet not have exhausted all the bitter subjects of contemplation presented to him.

      Most likely, indeed, he would have gone on much longer, had not one of his servants presented himself to assist him in dressing; and starting up from his sorrowful reveries, he hastened to cast off his travel-stained garments, and in a few minutes descended to the hall, where the rest of the party were assembled to supper.

      A place was reserved for him between the count and the old commander. On the right hand of the latter sat father Walter, and on the opposite side were Chazeul and Mademoiselle d'Albret. Two or three of the retainers of the house, who bore the rank of gentlemen, filled up the rest of the table, with Chasseron and Estoc at the bottom. It was on the countenance of Rose СКАЧАТЬ