Prince Eugene and His Times Part 106

"It has terminated as I feared," thought she; "her short-lived happiness has been purchased with her life. To think that her relentless foe should have had no mercy upon her youth and beauty!

And so it is--to the good are apportioned tribulation and trials--to the wicked, prosperity and long life! G.o.d is merciful, and allows to those who are destined to burn in h.e.l.l their short season of triumph on earth. But I, who am no saint, will avenge my dear child's murder, by exposing its instigators to public scorn. My poor, darling Laura! G.o.d only knows how I am to bring it about, but He will surely prompt the right words at the right moment. And now to discharge the tiresome duties of the sacrifice I made to the shameless exaction of Louis XIV.! Now for the act that befouls the escutcheon of France with the blood of De Montespan's b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

She folded her letter, and, putting it in her bosom, called with her stentorian lungs, for Katharina.

The tire-woman, who had been anxiously awaiting the summons, appeared immediately, and approached her mistress, in great haste to commence.

"Katharina," began the d.u.c.h.ess, "do not be provoked if I reject the magnificent attire you have prepared for me to-night. I cannot wear it."

Katharina drew back in terror. "So your royal highness does not intend to appear at court to-night?"

"I intend to appear there, because I am compelled to do so,"

returned the d.u.c.h.ess; "but I do not know that it is inc.u.mbent upon me to be as gay as a peac.o.c.k, on the occasion of my poor Philip's betrothal to that girl of De Montespan's. To me it is more like a funeral than a festival, so you may get out my suit of court mourning. The skirt of black velvet, the train and head-dress of purple."

"Is the Empress of Austria dead, that your royal highness should wear purple?" asked Katharina. [Footnote: At the court of Louis XIV., purple velvet was worn in the deepest mourning only.]

"A personage of more consequence to me than the Empress of Austria is dead--an angel has taken her flight to heaven, and no royal princess can replace her here below. Hush, Kathi--you need not open your mouth to remonstrate, for my purple mourning I will wear, and n.o.body in France shall hinder me."

Katharina knew this so well, that she inclined her head, and went off in search of the costume, which, as Elizabeth-Charlotte never lingered before her looking-gla.s.s, was donned in less than a quarter of an hour. She returned to her cabinet, and gave a quick glance at her image, as she pa.s.sed before a large Venetian mirror, that reached from floor to ceiling. She smiled, and began an apostrophe to herself, after the following manner:

"You are unquestionably a homely woman; and, in the finery that decks royalty, you look somewhat like the scarecrows I have seen in gardens at home. But, soberly clad as you are at this moment, you are not an unsightly or undignified woman, nor would my poor murdered darling despise me, were she to see me now. Ah, Laura!

would that the battle of life were over for me, as it is for thee!

For the world has apportioned to me much vexation, but little happiness."

She turned away from the mirror, with a sigh. "Well, I may not mourn any longer. I must put on my court-face, and sing with old Luther:"

"It must be so, That pain and woe Will ever follow sin; Then go your ways--"

The d.u.c.h.ess was singing out this doggerel in a rough, loud contralto, when her chamberlain appeared at the door, and announced that his royal highness was waiting for her to descend.

"Tell monsieur not to let me detain him," replied she. "I will be escorted to the Louvre by the Duke de Chartres. Hey, Kathi! come with my wrappings!"

Kathi had just enveloped her highness's stout, robust form in a cloak of purple velvet, when the little duke came skipping into the room.

"Here I am, chere maman," cried he; "here is Cupid, ready to attend on Venus."

The d.u.c.h.ess replied with a glance of displeasure, and took his arm.

As they were crossing the corridor, she said: "Cupid was a fractious and rebellious boy, and I remember that Venus had many a time to box his ears for his misbehavior. You are quite right to liken yourself to Cupid, for you are just as contrary as he--"

"And just as handsome?" asked the duke, coaxingly.

The d.u.c.h.ess tried to suppress a smile. "You are a little puppy,"

said she; "and if I resemble Venus in no other way, I shall imitate her maternal corrections, and let you feel the weight of my hand, if you provoke me, sir." And so saying, she tumbled herself into the coach.

"I have already felt its weight," sighed the young duke, "and a right heavy hand it is, when it is lifted to chastise."

"Then take care not to deserve its chastis.e.m.e.nts. But now, Philip, listen to me, and be serious. It is understood between us, that you refuse to sign the contract--that you avow loudly your aversion to marriage in general, and to Mademoiselle de Blois in particular; and that you throw yourself at the feet of the king, and ask for two years' delay."

"Oh, yes, maman, yes, of course," replied Philip, hurriedly. "I understand it all perfectly. Ah, here we are at the Louvre! Allow me to a.s.sist you to alight."

And the duke, vastly pleased that the maternal lecture was at an end, leaped from the coach, and escorted his mother to the palace.

The royal family, with the n.o.bles and dignitaries that were to witness the signing of the contract, were in the king's cabinet. The court awaited them in one of the magnificent rooms of state.

On a marble slab, supported by three gilded dolphins, lay a long roll of parchment, and close by was an inkstand of gold, set with sapphires and diamonds. The king was in an adjoining apartment, anxiously waiting the arrival of the d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans and the bridegroom-elect.

"Methinks," said Louis to monsieur, "that madame makes me wait."

As these words were uttered with great severity, the duke was abashed, and scarcely knew what he way saying. "Your majesty,"

stammered he, "you know how--may I entreat of you--"

"Her royal highness the d.u.c.h.ess of Orleans, and the Duke de Chartres," cried the gentleman usher.

Louis rose from his arm-chair, and advanced to greet his eccentric sister-in-law. Suddenly he drew back, and looked like a Jupiter Tonans.

"Madame," said he, eying the d.u.c.h.ess from head to foot--from her purple feathers to the very edge of her long purple-velvet train-- "madame, what means this extraordinary attire? Have you forgotten, in one of your fits of absence, that you were invited, not to a funeral, but to a betrothal?"

"Sire," replied the undismayed d.u.c.h.ess, "I am not subject to fits of absence; but I beg to apologize for my dress. It is appropriate to my feelings, for I have just experienced a most painful loss."

"What member of your family is dead?" asked his majesty.

"Not a member of my family, but a beloved friend, has been foully murdered."

"Murdered!" echoed Louis. "Who has been murdered!"

"Sire, I will tell you, but Monsieur Louvois must be by to hear the recital."

Monsieur Louvois was summoned, and while awaiting his arrival, Louis expressed a wish that the d.u.c.h.ess would make her story as short as possible; he was anxious to have this ceremony over.

"Sire, I shall do my best," was the reply.--"Ah," continued Elizabeth-Charlotte, "here is Monsieur Louvois--Perhaps he can tell your majesty why I am in mourning."

"I--I" said Louvois, with a defiant stare at his enemy. "I have not the honor of being in the secrets of madame."

"But she has the misfortune to be in yours," cried the d.u.c.h.ess.

"Sire, a few years ago, there appeared at your majesty's court a young girl of extraordinary beauty and worth. She was one of my maids of honor, and was as dear to me as my own child. Lovely, innocent, and virtuous, as she was, she was an object of aversion to her own kindred. She became ardently attached to a youth of rank equal--I mean to say, superior to hers, against whom her relatives entertained a prejudice that manifested itself by every species of persecution. There could be no reasonable objection to the alliance, but the lovers knowing that, for very hatred of them both, the maiden's father would oppose their union, agreed to be married in secret. They were betrayed, and you will scarcely believe me, your majesty, when I tell you that the poor girl's own father and brother deceived her by forged letters, and so arranged matters that they came by night, and, subst.i.tuting a man whom she detested, for her lover, they obtained her signature to a fraudulent marriage."

"Her father did his duty," interrupted Louvois. "He had a right to select her husband, and exercised his right. I hope that his majesty is of the same opinion."

"Madame," said the king, taking no notice of Louvois' remark, "pray continue your narrative."

"Your majesty, the miserable girl refused ever to acknowledge the marriage. The man they had forced upon her imprisoned her for years, giving out to the world that she was insane, but holding out to her a promise of release, whenever she would recognize him as her husband. She never would--she never did."

"But her lover--what was he about all this time?" asked Louis.

"He believed himself forgotten, nor could he discover whither his betrothed had been conveyed by her tyrant. Finally by means that seem almost miraculous, she effected her escape, and joined him; and, believing herself to be his spouse before G.o.d, they lived together as husband and wife."

"I should have regarded them as such," was the remark of the king.