The Marquis Of Penalta Part 16

_"Ay! who else has power to mend me!_ _Prithee deign to make my humble heart thy dwelling;_ _I beseech thee now to send me_ _Faithful angels not incapable of telling_ _Truly all the longing in me welling!"_[38]

And a thousand times she repeated it mentally, with a sublime solicitude, in which it seemed as though her soul were going to burst forth through her lips. But her lips remained speechless; she wished to cry out, to break into praises of Jesus, to give vent to the pa.s.sionate impulses of her breast, and it was impossible. She felt a strange oppression, torturing her with celestial death, which she would not exchange for a hundred lives.

A keen, eager, resistless desire suddenly took possession of her heart.

Jesus, the King of souls, had granted to more than one favors which were terrible by their very grandeur and incomprehensibility. He had appeared to Saint Isabel after her prodigious deeds of charity and penance, and had said, "Isabel, if thou art willing to be mine, I also am willing to be thine and will never leave thee." Frequently he had come to Saint Catalina of Siena in her convent cell, had conversed with her, had walked with and many times had helped her offer up her prayers.

He had taken Saint Teresa in his arms so that she could not move, and had lavished caresses and kisses upon her. If she might only win such regalement! Scarcely had this overweening thought been born in her mind before she was filled with fear, and felt such shame that she would gladly have had the earth open and swallow her up. "Oh, no, my G.o.d! Who am I to receive such a favor, granted only to the martyrs of charity and the seraphic virgins who s.h.i.+ne in heaven like bright stars. Pardon me, Jesus mine, pardon me!"

But her audacious thought would not depart from her mind; it kept following her in spite of her strongest efforts to shake it off. She was unworthy of such glory, she knew well, but her yearning was the child of the love with which the divine Jesus had filled her heart to overflowing; thus not she but Jesus himself was the author of this desire. If he had not kindled in her his celestial love, and had not begun to pour out upon her favors as sweet as they were undeserved, such an absurd idea would never have entered her head. No; she asked not so great a grace, so great a consolation; it was enough for her that Jesus was willing to give himself to her, that she had a few particles of his immortal love. She should consider herself the most blessed among the virgin daughters of heaven, if at the end of long years of prayer and penance, of bitterness and tribulations, Jesus should allow her once only to touch her lips to his divine face. "O Jesus mine, is it sinful to ask this? Could such a base worm as I ever deserve a joy so infinite?"

She opened her eyes. Jesus, with his golden aureole s.h.i.+ning amid the shadows, as it reflected the last melancholy light that came through the window, lifted his hands towards her, at the same time fastening upon her a profound, sweet gaze. Through her veins ran a sensation of chill, as though she were near to death; but instantly this was supplanted by another of such intense heat that it made the sweat start from all the pores of her body. She comprehended vaguely that an adorable mystery was taking place in her presence, and a holy fear seized her. The boudoir was wrapt in shadow: the windows seemed like great, colorless eyes gazing through the walls. A sweet, languid delectation took possession of her whole being, and overwhelmed her with bliss. Her fear vanished.

She was filled with the certainty that she was loved by Jesus, that she was the bride-elect of a G.o.d. Tenderness, wors.h.i.+p, joy, welled up in her bosom, and she could not take her eyes from the eyes of the Lord, drinking from them the mysterious, ineffable delight of glory.

Once more the desire came back to her mind. This time she promulgated it with words, the warm breath of which stole through her hands crossed before her face.

"Jesus mine, wouldst thou permit thy servant to touch her lips to thy divine person?"

Jesus bent forward still more graciously. Maria felt her hair stand on end, and her heart wanted to leap from her breast. His voice like music penetrated into the soul of the young girl, who believed that she was dead and translated to heaven.

Jesus had said,--

_"Arise, my beloved, my fair one, and come."_

"Lord, I am not worthy!" exclaimed Maria, with a cry at once of anguish and of joy.

Again Jesus said,--

_"Thou art all beautiful, my beloved; there is no blemish in thee."_

"My Jesus, thee I love above all things!"

_"My dove, show me thy face, let thy voice sound in mine ears, for thy voice is sweet, and thy face is beautiful,"_ replied Jesus, bending still nearer.

Then the girl, carried away by glory and enthusiasm, threw her arms about the knees of the Lord, and flooded them with her tears, saying, between her sobs, like the bride in the sacred book,--

"My soul melted within me when my beloved spake."

And little by little, her arms clinging to the body of Jesus, stole slowly, slowly upwards, till they were fastened around his neck. Her breath failed her, and she felt her memory, her imagination, and all her powers give way, fading into an immense, eager bliss, in which her whole being was plunged as in the purest ether. Her face drew near the Lord's.

She touched with her cheeks the cheeks of the Bridegroom; she put her lips to the whiteness of his brow, to the effulgence of his eyes, to the coral of his lips.

And in the chief room of the tower, silent, buried in darkness, was long heard the sound of sobs and subdued kisses. At last, a human body, the body of the Senorita de Elorza, senseless, fell heavily at full length upon the floor. Genoveva, when she came in with a light, found her there still in the swoon, with eyes open and fixed, reflecting in her face a celestial joy.

CHAPTER VIII.

AS YOU LIKE IT.

The spring came. The northeast winds, like a gigantic besom swung by the hand of some G.o.d with a pa.s.sion for cleanliness, constantly swept away the dust and ashes of the firmament. The sailors who put out at daybreak after fish, as they set foot on the quay often saw above the distant houses of El Moral a wide strip of azure sky, which went on slowly spreading to the four points of the compa.s.s, leaving a few tenuous shreds of violet cloud like great eyebrows overhanging the horizon. The vast sheet of the river now gave forth lovely blue sparkles in place of the melancholy, metallic reflections of the winter; and the wooden hulks called _barcos_ by a misnomer, pitched in the dock like colts impatient to be off. But in the afternoon winter still clung to its rights; now spreading over town and river a thick mantle of fog which quickly changed into storm; now furiously driving across the sky colossal black clouds which discharged their freight as they flew inland. Some days, however, at sunset a breath of genial air came from the land, and brought the delightful tidings to the peaceful inhabitants of Nieva that the most lovely and coquettish of the seasons was present in that jurisdiction; and this breath of air laden with perfumes, reaching by the medium of the nostrils to the brains of those inhabitants who were most inclined to poesy and sweet expansions of the heart, manifested itself as the avowed enemy of tranquillity in feminine minds, and as the infamous disturber of peace in families. The town slept placidly like a sultana, receiving the adulatory caresses of this breeze.

Nevertheless, the calm underneath the roofs was more apparent than real; a large part of the inhabitants slept the sleep of the righteous as before, but another no less numerous and estimable, without knowing any reason for it, awoke more than once in the course of the night, and occasionally spent an hour unsuccessfully wooing sleep by lighting the lamp, and reading the articles in _The Times_.[39] They drank great goblets of water; they dreamed fifty thousand absurd dreams, which, when they remembered them in the morning, made the worthy natives smile, and more than one, and more than two, caught colds on their lungs by getting uncovered at night. In the two apothecary shops of the town a prodigious quant.i.ty of pearl barley was disposed of; some banished wine from the table to the astonishment of their wives; and the behavior of young men toward the girls became extremely dulcified. The Market Street[40]

bookseller sent to Madrid for a quant.i.ty of novels by Paul de k.o.c.k and Adolphe Belot on commission for his customers, and the professor of the piano made a similar demand on the music publishers, for various sentimental romanzas with erotic t.i.tles, such as _Vorrei morir_, _Tutto per te_, _Non posso vivere_, and others of like quality, at the request of his pupils. The swallows began to take possession of the corridors, and after making love for a few days, chasing each other through the air with obstreperous chirpings and then retiring couple by couple to the most remote corners of the gardens, without any thought of Mrs. Grundy or of due formality; they celebrated their nuptials with the same freedom, without consulting the desires of papas or asking for a special dispensation, or by publis.h.i.+ng the banns through the office of the parochial priest, or by ordering a trousseau from Paris, or by receiving a miserable coffee service from relatives, or sending cards to friends and acquaintances, announcing their indissoluble union; or even by having a notice inserted in the _Correspondencia de Espana_, saying: "Yesterday, before a numerous and select a.s.semblage, in which were included the most ill.u.s.trious members of the n.o.bility and the world of politics and literature, were celebrated in the house of the bride the long announced nuptials of the most beautiful and distinguished dame swallow, Lady Such an One, to the wealthy sir swallow, Lord Somebody or Other.[41] After enjoying a splendid collation, the newly married couple departed to their n.o.ble domain of Robledales in Aragon." And whoever speaks of the swallows may clearly say the same thing of the whole throng of birds which had encamped both in the gardens of Nieva and in the immense pine groves which lined the banks of its river.

To be reckoned among the people most manifestly influenced by this spring breeze (leaving aside, of course, the Senorita de Delgado, with whom no one would dare to maintain any rivalry in the matter of sensations, sentiments, emotions, and all that refers to the life of the heart), was our acquaintance, Manolito Lopez. His worthy family noticed with grateful surprise, not only that the lad's character was manifestly softening, but likewise that the habits of orderliness and an inclination toward sedateness had sprung up, and were growing in him with unusual rapidity. This praiseworthy inclination was manifested in everything that pertained to the adornment of his person, but most particularly to that of his feet; a box of superior blacking every fortnight was not sufficient for the demands of his shoes, and he spent a large part of the morning and of his physical powers in making them s.h.i.+ne like a looking-gla.s.s, and even thus he was not content: Manolito would not have been satisfied if anything less than the brilliancy of a Brazilian diamond, of all the jewels of the royal crowns of Europe, of the seas and the stars had been put into them. After giving the last finis.h.i.+ng touch to his hair, Manolito always sallied forth in the amiable company of his glistening boots to promenade in front of the house of Elorza, and up the street and down the street he went all the time allowed him by his occupations, and also a good part of the time when he had no business to be there. The balconies of the house, as a rule, remained hermetically sealed; but Manolito, judging by the graceful gait which he affected as he pa.s.sed, must have suspected that a pair of steady, love-stricken eyes were always observing him through the cracks. Once in a while the balconies were thrown open, giving a glimpse of Carmen, of Genoveva, of Adela, or some other servant, who looked at him without sufficient respect considering our young lad's age (fifteen years and three months) and his character. Very, very rarely likewise appeared Marta's pretty head. She looked out for an instant with an expression of indifference which, be it said for the sake of the truth, did not change into one of affection and tenderness at sight of Manolito, but certainly remained exactly as calm and serene as though our youth had no more personality than a column of the arcade, or the clock on the town-house, or the sign of the Cafe de la Estrella, or any other of the inanimate objects whereon the girl's eyes rested.

Manolito, for a few moments, felt as much disturbed as one who, sailing through the Arctic Ocean, should suddenly see an enormous iceberg coming down upon him; but soon he recovered his spirits, saying, for the encouragement of his heart, "What a sly one she is!" And though the balconies were immediately shut with a scornful screak, and remained closed all the day, yet Manolito did not cease to promenade back and promenade forth, fortified always in his conviction that through the interstices of the curtains a pair of ecstatic, love-softened eyes were launching at him a thousand pa.s.sionate darts.

But where the spring held a more absolute and even despotic sway (always excepting, of course, the Senorita de Delgado's poetical soul) was the Elorza garden. There, without consulting in the slightest degree the will of the flexible mimosas or of the round acacias or of the dignified catalpas or of any other tree or shrub, flower or plant, however respectable, she began to clothe them all in green, carefully variegating their garments, making this one deep and dark, that one bright and dazzling, and the other pale and yellow, playing with them a sort of gay, original masquerade delightful for those to see who still persist in feeling affection for the works of nature. Above this habiliment there shone like decorations of honor many flowers, yellow, white, blue, or pink, quick to fill the ambient air with the sweet perfumes stored up in their hearts. The garden was unusually extensive, stretching out from the plaza where Don Mariano's mansion was built to the quay on one side, and on the other to the farthest houses of the town. And whether because it was not very easy to take the most perfect care of such a large piece of ground, or because Don Mariano as a man of taste did not wish to impose upon Nature his own law, by establis.h.i.+ng in her demesne a tyrannical system of geometrical crosses and lines, at any rate it offered all the lawless vigor, the exuberance, and the spontaneity, which it is not customary to find any longer except in provincial gardens managed according to a broad and tolerant Spanish fas.h.i.+on. The paths, though originally laid out in straight lines according to the style in vogue at the time when they were first designed, were now fluctuating, thanks to the growing up or disappearance of quince-tree, boxwood, or rose hedges. The trees in many places enclosed these paths with a thicket, giving them an air of long mystery, which, according to amateurs, is the greatest charm of gardens, and I appeal to the testimony of all ardent and elevated souls, particularly to the Senorita de Delgado. Back of the trees, through the hedges, could be seen a stone faun or satyr, discolored by great green spots on the muscular shoulders, spurting water from mouth and nostrils; in this agreeable occupation its whole life had been spent. Flowers in the Elorza garden did not possess those inordinate privileges which they are wont to obtain in flashy parks of modern times, but a number of succulent vegetables had established themselves on a footing of equality with them. At the side of a group or clump of dahlias grew an asparagus-bed, and within sight of a splendid bunch of canna indica and calladium flourished a thicket of artichokes and a bed of Alsatian cabbages. And why not? However indisputable the superiority of flowers may be, we must not deny to vegetables aesthetic qualities worthy of the consideration and respect of French gardeners, who at the present time have declared a merciless war upon them. Perhaps they consider that if vegetables are banished from parks, they bury prose forever and have poetry only left, according to the example of those ancient novelists who did not dare to show their heroes and heroines in the act of eating for fear of soiling or tarnis.h.i.+ng them. In one of the angles there was a great storehouse where were piled old furniture from the house, a number of broken-down carriages, the gardening utensils, and other things. The whole garden was surrounded by a wall of considerable thickness and elevation, over which climbed ivy and honeysuckle cautiously letting their leaves peer over the top, like two rogues coming in to rob fruit and get away before they should be discovered by the gardener. Over one of the faces of the wall arose the masts of the vessels at the quay, which with their mult.i.tudinous cordage enlacing and crossing in every direction, looked from a distance like monstrous spiders. A great gate barred with iron led from the garden to the quay.

The younger daughter of the proprietor of this garden found herself in it one morning culling flowers with a pair of shears suspended from her belt, and afterwards placing them very daintily in a small osier basket.

She went about taking them now from this side and now from that, seeming at times to ponder before some, leaving them untouched to go straightway to others, and then coming back to them, thus endlessly meandering in every direction with hesitating step. She was so immersed in the depths of some combination for her bouquet that she allowed herself to be pitilessly burned by the sun, more splendid in his anger and pride than was his wont. Since we last saw her, a slight change not easy to define had taken place in her figure. She had just finished her fourteenth year. Her physical development, always exuberant and vigorous, had taken a sudden start during the last three months, not causing her to grow at once tall and thin, as is apt to be the case with girls at this age, but bringing her beauty to a more ideal perfection. Marta was destined to be rather stout: nature had been giving the last touches to her figure, strengthening the line of her hips, rounding her arms, filling out her virginal bosom, and perfecting the oval of her face, without being willing, on any consideration, to grant her three inches more of stature, though she really needed them. On this account an Andalusian cavalry lieutenant, while saying something in her praise and dispraise in a game of forfeits, recently declared, "You are very charming, but your roundness is alarming."[42] And this had given occasion for the friends of the house to call her in fun _la redondita_ (the round), and to plague her continually with the Andalusian rhyme. The expression of her face was as placid, grave, and as gentle as before. Nevertheless, her great black eyes, calm and liquid, which, as we have said, used to present a certain strange immobility, such as is seen in those suffering from gutta serena, acquired a movement so gentle and sweet that one of the De Ciudad girls, the very one who had pointed her out to the engineer Suarez, could not help exclaiming the other night,--

"Don't you see how sweet Mart.i.ta is looking!"

"Certainly," replied the engineer, "that girl seems to caress you with her eyes when she looks."

At the same time they inclined to grow liquid, which still more increased their brilliancy and gentleness. At this particular moment she wore a dark violet dress, extremely snug and well fitted to her body, and, although at her earnest request it had been made a little longer than before, still, as she stooped over to cut the flowers, it allowed more than a glimpse to be seen of a pair of beautiful, well rounded ankles, comparable with the arms which Ricardo had admired.

After she had cut as many flowers as she wanted, she sat on a stone bench in the shade, and placing the basket by her side and taking out a ball of thread, proceeded, with great calmness, to make a nosegay. First she took a magnificent white tea-rose, and pulled off all its thorns, tying around it instead some leaves of althea. As she reached this stage in her operation, Ricardo made his appearance. Marta raised her head, hearing his steps, and quickly dropped it again, continuing her work.

"I have been hunting for you, Mart.i.ta."

"What for?"

"Nothing ... only to see you.... Is that a little thing?"

"If that's all, it seems to me a very little thing; yes!"

"Perhaps you don't want me to see you?"

"I didn't say so ... but as it hasn't been twenty-four hours since you got home...."

"Well, at any rate I wanted to see you."

Marta said nothing, and kept on with her task, placing around the rose and in the althea three pansies. Ricardo also had changed a little since the last time that we saw him. His face had grown somewhat thinner, and in place of its ordinary expression of contentment had come another as of fatigue sometimes approximating to gloom and bitterness.

Unquestionably he had not been very happy during the last months, and we know very well that he had no good reason for being. The perpetual struggle which he had to sustain with Maria's scruples, and the sincere or simulated coldness which he saw in her, caused a steady, dull discomfort which embittered his existence. The brief moments when he succeeded in talking with his beloved, instead of being brightened by the sweet expressions of love, were generally spent in bickerings and recriminations, or at least in long exhortations on one side and the other,--Ricardo trying to prove to Maria that her pious practices were an exaggeration incompatible with human nature; Maria urging Ricardo to abandon the frivolities of the world and enter upon the road of virtue, which is that of salvation.

After he had silently watched Marta's work a moment, he asked her,--

"Whom is that bouquet for?"

"For Maria, who wants to begin her flowers for the Virgin this evening.

She asked me to make two, and I keep one in the house."

A flash of joy pa.s.sed through the young man's eyes at the mention of his sweetheart's name, and he began to take an interest in the formation of the nosegay. Marta noticed particularly her future brother's joy and interest. Between the three pansies she placed three pinks,--one red, one rose-colored, and the other white. Then she took a number of leaves of sweet marjoram and rose, and tied up with them the growing bouquet; thereupon she placed all around it a row of marguerites, alternating the colors,--purple, white, blue, and mottled.

"Now, you ought to put in some pinks," added Ricardo, with the boldness of ignorance.

"Hush, Ricardo, you don't know what you are talking about.... Now you want a filling of sweet marjoram and althea, so that the marguerites may have a background.... Flowers must be loose and not touch each other, so that each may preserve its form in the bunch.... Do you see?... Now a row of roses can be added without fear of crus.h.i.+ng the marguerites ...

a white one, then a red one ... a white one ... another red one ...