Ten Years Later. Dumas Alexandre

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СКАЧАТЬ Marie de Mancini shine in the sun with the brilliancy of a dagger starting from its sheath. "And you have done nothing in favor of our love?" asked the girl, after a silence of a moment.

      "Ah! mademoiselle, how could you believe that? I threw myself at the feet of my mother; I begged her, I implored her; I told her all my hopes of happiness were in you, I even threatened – "

      "Well?" asked Marie, eagerly.

      "Well? the queen-mother wrote to the court of Rome, and received as answer, that a marriage between us would have no validity, and would be dissolved by the holy father. At length, finding there was no hope for us, I requested to have my marriage with the infanta at least delayed."

      "And yet that does not prevent your being on the road to meet her?"

      "How can I help it? To my prayers, to my supplications, to my tears, I received no answer but reasons of state."

      "Well, well?"

      "Well, what is to be done, mademoiselle, when so many wills are leagued against me?"

      It was now Marie's turn to hang her head. "Then I must bid you adieu for ever," said she. "You know that I am being exiled; you know that I am going to be buried alive; you know still more that they want to marry me off, too."

      Louis became very pale, and placed his hand upon his heart.

      "If I had thought that my life only had, been at stake, I have been so persecuted that I might have yielded; but I thought yours was concerned, my dear sire, and I stood out for the sake of preserving your happiness."

      "Oh, yes! my happiness, my treasure!" murmured the king, more gallantly than passionately, perhaps.

      "The cardinal might have yielded," said Marie, "if you had addressed yourself to him, if you had pressed him. For the cardinal to call the king of France his nephew! do you not perceive, sire? He would have made war even for that honor; the cardinal, assured of governing alone, under the double pretext of having brought up the king and given his niece to him in marriage – the cardinal would have fought all antagonists, overcome all obstacles. Oh, sire! I can answer for that. I am a woman, and I see clearly into everything where love is concerned."

      These words produced a strange effect upon the king. Instead of heightening his passion, they cooled it. He stopped, and said hastily, —

      "What is to be said, mademoiselle? Everything has failed."

      "Except your will, I trust, my dear sire?"

      "Alas!" said the king, coloring, "have I a will?"

      "Oh!" said Mademoiselle de Mancini mournfully, wounded by that expression.

      "The king has no will but that which policy dictates, but that which reasons of state impose upon him."

      "Oh! it is because you have no love," cried Mary; "if you loved, sire, you would have a will."

      On pronouncing these words, Mary raised her eyes to her lover, whom she saw more pale and more cast down than an exile who is about to quit his native land forever. "Accuse me," murmured the king, "but do not say I do not love you."

      A long silence followed these words, which the young king had pronounced with a perfectly true and profound feeling. "I am unable to think that to-morrow, and after to-morrow, I shall see you no more; I cannot think that I am going to end my sad days at a distance from Paris; that the lips of an old man, of an unknown, should touch that hand which you hold within yours; no, in truth, I cannot think of all that, my dear sire, without having my poor heart burst with despair."

      And Marie de Mancini did shed floods of tears. On his part, the king, much affected, carried his handkerchief to his mouth, and stifled a sob.

      "See," said she, "the carriages have stopped, my sister waits for me, the time is come; what you are about to decide upon will be decided for life. Oh, sire! you are willing, then, that I should lose you? You are willing, then, Louis, that she to whom you have said 'I love you,' should belong to another than to her king; to her master, to her lover? Oh! courage, Louis! courage! One word, a single word! Say 'I will!' and all my life is enchained to yours, and all my heart is yours forever."

      The king made no reply. Mary then looked at him as Dido looked at AEneas in the Elysian fields, fierce and disdainful.

      "Farewell, then," said she; "farewell life! love! heaven!"

      And she took a step away. The king detained her, seized her hand, which he pressed to his lips, and despair prevailing over the resolution he appeared to have inwardly formed, he let fall upon that beautiful hand a burning tear of regret, which made Mary start, so really had that tear burnt her. She saw the humid eyes of the king, his pale brow, his convulsed lips, and cried, with an accent that cannot be described, —

      "Oh, sire! you are a king, you weep, and yet I depart!"

      As his sole reply, the king hid his face in his handkerchief. The officer uttered something so like a roar that it frightened the horses. Mademoiselle de Mancini, quite indignant, quitted the king's arm, hastily entered the carriage, crying to the coachman, "Go on, go on, and quick!"

      The coachman obeyed, flogged his mules, and the heavy carriage rocked upon its creaking axle, whilst the king of France, alone, cast down, annihilated, did not dare to look either behind or before him.

      CHAPTER 14. In which the King and the Lieutenant each give Proofs of Memory

      When the king, like all the people in the world who are in love, had long and attentively watched disappear in the distance the carriage which bore away his mistress; when he had turned and turned again a hundred times to the same side and had at length succeeded in somewhat calming the agitation of his heart and thoughts, he recollected that he was not alone. The officer still held the horse by the bridle, and had not lost all hope of seeing the king recover his resolution. He had still the resource of mounting and riding after the carriage; they would have lost nothing by waiting a little. But the imagination of the lieutenant of the musketeers was too rich and too brilliant; it left far behind it that of the king, who took care not to allow himself to be carried away to any such excess. He contented himself with approaching the officer, and in a doleful voice, "Come," said he, "let us be gone; all is ended. To horse!"

      The officer imitated this carriage, this slowness, this sadness, and leisurely mounted his horse. The king pushed on sharply, the lieutenant followed him. At the bridge Louis turned around for the last time. The lieutenant, patient as a god who has eternity behind and before him, still hoped for a return of energy. But it was groundless, nothing appeared. Louis gained the street which led to the castle, and entered as seven was striking. When the king had returned, and the musketeer, who saw everything, had seen a corner of the tapestry over the cardinal's window lifted up, he breathed a profound sigh, like a man unloosed from the tightest bounds, and said in a low voice:

      "Now, then, my officer, I hope that it is over."

      The king summoned his gentleman. "Please to understand I shall receive nobody before two o'clock," said he.

      "Sire," replied the gentleman, "there is, however, some one who requests admittance."

      "Who is that?"

      "Your lieutenant of musketeers."

      "He who accompanied me?"

      "Yes, sire."

      "Ah," said the king, "let him come in."

      The СКАЧАТЬ