Prince Eugene and His Times Part 89

"I can never consent to such a disgraceful marriage for my son,"

cried Elizabeth-Charlotte to her husband.

"Madame, I look upon it as a great honor that my son should espouse the daughter of the king."

"The daughter of shame and infamy--the daughter of a man who, violating his marriage-vow--"

"Madame," interrupted the duke, "you forget that you are speaking of his majesty the King of France!"

"King of France? There is no question of a king, but of my brother- in-law, of whose faults--nay, sins, I may surely speak, within the walls of my own cabinet, I suppose."

"Madame," replied the duke, trying to draw up his small person until he fairly stood on tiptoe, "madame, I forbid you to express yourself in such terms of your sovereign and mine."

"Forbid me to speak the truth, you mean. And to be sure, at a court like this, where everybody feeds on flattery, truth is strangely out of place."

"Like yourself, for instance," observed the duke.

"Yes, like myself," replied the d.u.c.h.ess, with a sweet smile that illumined her plain features, and lent them a pa.s.sing beauty. "I believe that I am most unwelcome among the fine and fas.h.i.+onable folks of Paris; but it is not my fault that I am here, a poor, homely sparrow in a flock of peac.o.c.ks and parrots."

"Madame," replied the duke, pompously, "if you choose to consider yourself as a sparrow, you have my full consent to do so, although I must say that it is somewhat presuming for any one so to designate the woman whom I honored with my hand. But I must always regret that you have never displayed enough tact to lay aside your plebeian German manners, and resume those of the courtly and elegant entourage of the refined King of France."

The eyes of the d.u.c.h.ess shot fire, and the hue on her cheeks deepened to scarlet.

"Your manners may be refined, monseigneur; but G.o.d s.h.i.+eld me from your morals! The war you are waging against my native land is one of a.s.sa.s.sination and rapine; and oh! how I wish that I were free to leave France forever, that I might suffer and die with my dear, slaughtered countrymen! But dearly as I love my native land, I love my children still more. Maternal love is stronger in my heart than patriotism, and my Elizabeth and my Philip are more to me than Germany!"

"You say nothing of me," observed the duke, sentimentally. "Am I, then, nothing to you?"

"Yes, monseigneur, you are the father of my children. I plighted my faith to you, and I have kept my marriage-vows. But you know, as well as I, that we were both nothing but royal merchandise, bartered for reasons of state, and that we have never been congenial.

Nevertheless, I love you as the father of my Philip! for he has your handsome face and your refined and courtly bearing."

"Madame," returned the duke, blus.h.i.+ng with gratification, "I thought you disdained to flatter."

"I do not flatter you, monseigneur," cried the d.u.c.h.ess, cordially grasping his hand, and leading him to the mantel, over which hung a full-length portrait of the youthful Duke de Chartres. "See,"

exclaimed she with affectionate pride, "see what a beautiful picture Mignet has made of him. It was done in secret in Mignet's studio, and was brought to me yesterday as a birthday present from my boy."

"It was very thoughtless of Philip to visit Mignet," objected the duke. "He too often forgets his rank and relations.h.i.+p to the king."

"Forgive him, monseigneur. He forgot his station, to remember his filial affection," and for several moments the mother's eyes were fondly fixed upon the portrait. "Look!" resumed she; "these are your eyes, your well-developed forehead, your aquiline nose, your pleasant and expressive mouth. In your youth, you were as handsome as he--I have often heard it said that you were the handsomest cavalier in Paris."

"Except the king, madame--except the king! I am too loyal a subject to excel his majesty in anything. I am glad, however, that you think my son resembles me; to me there is a blended likeness of both his parents in his countenance."

"Never, never!" exclaimed Elizabeth-Charlotte, with animation.

"There is no trace of my coa.r.s.e features in that aristocratic face; and yet, like the owl that hatched the eagle's egg, I am proud of calling him my son. And now, monseigneur, let me implore of you not to cross the escutcheon of our eaglet with the bar-sinister that disgraces the arms of Mademoiselle de Blois."

"Madame," exclaimed the duke, much irritated, "speak more respectfully of the daughter of Louis XIV.! She has been recognized by his majesty, and there is no stain upon her arms."

"Pardon me--it is not in the power of any sovereign to erase the foul blot of her birth; and I shudder when I think of an alliance between the son of the Duke of Orleans and grandson of the Elector Palatine, and the daughter of a king's leman. If his majesty mentions the subject to me, I shall tell him as much."

"Impossible!" cried the duke, aghast. "I have already promised that you would solicit the honor of an alliance with Mademoiselle de Blois."

"You promised what I will not perform. Do you suppose that I, by birth and marriage a royal princess, would debase myself so far as to ask for my son's wife the daughter of a harlot who drove the hapless queen to her grave? and to take her by the hand, and present her to the court as my daughter? I would rather absent myself forever from court, and I will certainly not attend the king's ball to-night." "You cannot do that, for you accepted the invitation yesterday."

"Yesterday I knew not the humiliation implied in my acceptance. To- day I know it, and I will excuse myself, and be sick."

"Madame, I command you to appear at the ball," cried out the enraged duke, "and we shall see whether you presume to rebel against my conjugal authority."

"I shall not rebel," replied the d.u.c.h.ess. "Since you command my presence, you shall have it; but I warn you that I shall mortally offend the king, for--"

The duke was about to protest anew against his wife's blasphemy, when the old German lady of honor, who presided over the toilet of her highness, rushed into the room in a slate of great agitation.

"What is the matter, Katharina?" asked the d.u.c.h.ess.

"Your royal highness," replied Katharina, panting, "a courier has just arrived from the Countess Louise. He has ridden day and night to deliver his message, and, although he is covered with mud and dust, he insisted that I should announce him to your royal highness."

"A courier from Louise!" murmured the d.u.c.h.ess. "Something must have happened! Go, Kathi, bid him come into my little parlor.--Will monseigneur excuse me? I am deeply concerned lest some misfortune should have befallen my sister."

"Sister! Is the Countess Louise the daughter of a princess Palatine?"

"No, monseigneur; you know that she is the daughter of the Countess Dagenfeld, my father's wedded wife--although never acknowledged as such--because she was not of royal birth. There is no bar-sinister on Louise's s.h.i.+eld; she is truly and honorably my half-sister."

The d.u.c.h.ess bowed and hastened to her parlor, where the courier was awaiting her arrival.

"Has anything happened to the countess? Is she ill? Have I lost my dear relative?"

"No, your royal highness. Your princely relatives are well, and here--here is--"

He made an attempt to place a letter in her hand, but reeled and fell, exhausted, at her feet.

"Pardon me, madame," said he, "I have been for three days and nights in the saddle. My strength has given way--I cannot rise. But read your letter, I implore you."

The d.u.c.h.ess stooped, and took it from his nerveless hand; then, commending him to the care of Katharina, she broke the seal and began to read.

Its contents affected her so terribly, that her teeth chattered, her knees trembled, and, throwing herself upon the sofa, she covered her face with her hands and wept.

But she wept for a moment only.

"Katharina," cried she, to her old confidante, who was chafing the temples of the courier, "leave that poor youth for a moment, and fetch me a mantilla and hood. I must go to the king at once!"

"Your royal highness is in a neglige," remonstrated Katharina; "I will have to dress you."

"I cannot wait to be dressed," cried Elizabeth-Charlotte; "speed away, and bring me my wrappings. G.o.d be praised, the king will be at home! Thousands of lives depend upon my intercession!"

Katharina returned with the mantilla, which, without the least regard to grace, her royal highness flung over her stout figure, while she jerked the hood over her head with an impetuosity that made the old lady wring her hands.

"Oh, her hair is down, and the hood all twisted to one side,"

murmured the mistress of the toilet, as the d.u.c.h.ess, indifferent to all forms of civilization, dashed down the staircase and leaped into her carriage.