‘Your wondrous, rare description, noble Earl,
Of beauteous Margaret hath astonished me.
Her virtues graced with external gifts,
Do breed love’s settled passions in my heart;
And like as rigour of tempestuous gusts
Provokes the mightiest hulk against the tide,
So am I driven, by breath of her renown
Either to suffer shipwreck, or arrive
Where I may have fruition of her love.’
_King Henry VI._, sc. v.
We left Mercia somewhat settled in her mind regarding the course she
ought to take with the Emperor.
If Felicitas should chance not to make mention of the subject of love,
which was a forbidden one to her, owing to her position, she made up her
mind to forbear making inquiries concerning his motive for introducing
it.
She waited and watched each day for his coming with a vague hope in her
heart that he would look favourably upon Geometrus’ love, in the event
of his having knowledge of it. In any case, it could only be a
suspicion, seeing it was as yet undeclared on his part.
Although she said nothing to Geometrus, nevertheless, he felt there was
something in the air. Often he would look at her wistfully and try to
probe her thoughts; for he saw most distinctly the preoccupation of her
mind as she strove to make her usual mathematical calculations. Still he
forbore questioning her, for the one subject he was desirous of
discussing with her, was entirely forbidden. Only his eyes told of the
love that filled his heart.
Reason reminded him that it was indeed a hopeless affection, for he felt
assured that Mercia’s mind was so bound up in her vocation that she
could never be induced to abandon it in order to wed one who had so
little to offer her in return. Moreover, he too, would be sent adrift as
soon as the matter oozed out, for the same prohibition from marriage was
placed upon him.
Numerous, indeed, were the plans he formed daily in his mind of what he
would do for a competent livelihood in the event of his acceptance by
Mercia. He knew it was useless to make her an offer unless he could see
his way clear to maintain her, when to accept him she must abandon a
highly lucrative and honourable position.
‘But would she indeed make such a sacrifice for him?’ he asked himself,
‘Would it not be selfish on his part to prefer such a request?
True—true; he would not—dare not make it. It was selfish, utterly
selfish to dream of it for one moment. No, he would lock up his
feelings; he would carefully keep his heart-secret; he would not ruin
her life by asking her to share his comparatively humble position,
supposing she was willing to listen to him.’
Thus did Geometrus torment himself with many doubts and fears. At one
moment making bright plans for the future, wherein he saw himself
distinguished before the world for his wonderful instruments, the like
of which he knew had never been produced before, and probably would be
at no time beaten. These had been planned and invented in the first
instance for Mercia alone, yet for Mercia’s sake they should be given to
the world, so that he might become more worthy of her; a more honourable
mate for the peerless Mercia.
Ah, Love, Love, how much thou hast to answer for! How many human hearts
hast thou set wildly beating for fame that would otherwise have remained
in quiet seclusion? How many mighty minds hast thou set daily and
nightly throbbing with pain by reason of thine unreasonable attraction?
Thou seekest thine affinity where it is forbidden thee to enter, ever
regardless of the restrictions and barriers invented by mankind for
their protection.
Thou only dost behold the object of thy search; invisible to thine eyes
the barricades of worldly conventions.
Quite alone, and unattended by any member of his suite, Felicitas set
off to pay Mercia his promised visit; who on her side gladly gave him a
pleasant welcome. In her heart she fondly hoped that the interpretation
of his words would prove favourable to herself and Geometrus; and in
some way yet to be discovered, the monarch might benefit them.
For could he not influence his ministers to do away with this absurd
marriage objection? Yes, Felicitas had power to help them, if he could
be induced to put it into operation. This was the one thing needful; the
monarch’s goodwill, and all would then be plain sailing.
Their marriage need not hinder their work; they two could labour
together, she thought, and side by side discharge conscientiously their
allotted duties, to their country’s satisfaction and their own perfect
content.
It so happened that Geometrus on that day had business in the city,
which detained him several hours, and as the Emperor was being driven in
a carriage drawn by horses—for this was the custom of royalty, that it
should be distinguished from the commonalty, who used electric force for
cheapness as for swiftness—he saw Geometrus enter a machine warehouse,
or shop, where electrical household machines were vended.
‘Ah,’ thought the Emperor, ‘thou art there, my friend: pray make no
hurry on my account; thou wast truly _de trop_ on the last occasion I
called on mine astronomer; I could well have spared thy presence.’
Thus the Emperor felicitated himself upon his good fortune, in being
secured against a like interruption on this occasion. When arrived at
his destination, which was not very soon, owing to the slowness of the
journey—for the speed of the horse was not comparable with that of
electric energy—the Emperor entered the Observatory with a firm
resolution to make good use of the opportunity with which fortune had
favoured him. Now, Mercia, with the same motive in her mind, received
him very cordially, for she desired to make a favourable impression,
with a view of obtaining his royal clemency in the matter of matrimony,
albeit, it appeared on further reflection, but a bare possibility that
she would at any time change her present condition.
‘Ah, Mistress Mercia,’ he exclaimed playfully, ‘what cheerful looks thou
dost carry to-day, methinks thy face betokens much content—hast thou
taken my words to heart, fair lady, ’twas truly excellent advice?’
‘Sire, thou saidst something concerning the sun—thou didst talk of
coming to learn more of his condition, I believe,’ answered Mercia
evasively.
‘True,’ he replied with a laugh, ‘I fain would know more of the sun’s
late vagaries: but it would please me infinitely better to learn
something of thyself, dost thou never feel lonely?’
‘Often enough, Sire; the hours speed away at times very quickly when I
am hard at work, but when it is time to rest then the feeling of
solitude overwhelms me: I get appalled at the silence that surrounds me,
and a melancholy seizes me so severely that I rise unable to cope with
my duties.’
‘Art thou then tired of this occupation? It is indeed, too much for
thee. Rest a while, sweet Mercia, and let the stars take care of
themselves for a season.’
‘Oh, that would spoil all my calculations; the work of years would be as
naught were I to stay my hand now. No, I will wait until my treatise on
the stars is complete; then I will take some little change for my
health’s sake.’
‘Health, and Love, sweet Mercia, go hand in hand together. Let thine
heart melt to its influence, and all will go well with thee. Thy
melancholies will disappear; thy solitude lightened; for thou wilt have
a new theory to analyse—a new and a better one.’
‘Yes, thou canst love, dear Mercia, I know it; for thine eyes were made
for the conquest of man’s heart, rather than star-gazing. Cease to
disregard the designs of Nature when she formed thee, and yield thyself
to the pleasure of love.’
Mercia essayed to answer him, but her tongue refused her utterance, so
great was her confusion. She blushed violently, and at last stammered
out—
‘Sire, I know not what answer to give in this matter—I am yet
unprepared,—perplexed with this reasoning of thine.’
‘Hast thou not felt the want of companionship, dear Mercia? Here penned
in this solitude only fit for a greybeard thou dost pine, yet knoweth
not what it is ails thee. It is good to be loved, fair one, to realise
how much thy womanhood means: hast thou never felt its joys—its pains?’
‘But my bond, Sire, I cannot break my bond, signed by my own hand, to
forswear love and marriage: no one but thyself can relieve me of this
obligation,’ exclaimed Mercia excitedly.
‘I heartily relieve thee, then, my good Mercia. I care not for the bond
one iota, if that be all that’s in thy way. Keep thy post as thou likest
thy work so well, and enjoy the delights of love at the same time,’
replied the delighted monarch, who found it most difficult to conceal
his fancied triumph.
Mercia uttered a low cry of joy, and in her gratitude threw herself at
his feet, then taking his willing hand in hers, she pressed it to her
lips in silence, for her heart was too full for speech.
When the matter had arrived thus far, the Emperor forgetting the caution
and self-restraint he had been hitherto exercising, was no longer able
to contain himself; stooping down towards the kneeling girl he caught
her in his arms, and in a perfect frenzy of rapture commenced to shower
hot kisses on her brow, her cheeks, her lips.
Mercia was so completely taken aback by this unexpected raid, that her
brain fairly reeled for a moment; then recovering her senses she quickly
wrenched herself out of his arms, and gazing on him with blanched face,
she cried in a voice gasping with pain and indignation—
‘What means the Emperor by this unheard-of liberty? What have I done
that I should be treated as a courtesan by my Sovereign?’
‘A courtesan!’ he repeated. ‘Why Mercia, I would give thee a crown if I
could! Thy queenly brow was truly made for one; and by the stars, thou
shalt have it yet! Yes, Mercia thou shalt share my throne and rule me,
my sweet, together with mine Empire.’
‘Share thy throne and rule thine Empire! Surely, Sire, thou hast gone
mad!’
‘Yes, truly, I am mad—mad with love for thee, and thou knowest it,
Mercia, else wouldst thou have kissed my hand in acknowledgment of it?’
‘In acknowledgment of _thy_ love!’ she answered in strong indignant
tones, ‘it was not so—thy love never entered my thought.’
‘Whose then?’ questioned Felicitas shortly.
‘Geometrus,’ she acknowledged bravely. But the next moment she felt she
had given away both herself and him.
‘Geometrus!’ he scoffingly repeated. ‘And dost thou place that poltroon
before me? Am I to be flouted for him?’
‘His love is honourable, and thine is not; therein lies the difference,
my Sire,’ she answered soothingly, with a view of bringing him to
reason.
‘But my love _shall be made_ honourable, Mercia. I will get a divorce,
and thou shalt fill the Empress’s place—aye, and fill it far away better
than she has ever done! I hate her—curse her!’ And he ground his teeth
in rage at the thought of his wretched inability to accomplish what he
was so loudly boasting of.
‘But I cannot rob another woman of her husband: I would not defraud the
meanest in thy realm, much less thine Empire’s highest lady.’
‘It is not robbery, Mercia, she doth not own my heart, and never did! I
was cozened into that marriage by my cousin Osbert—curse him—curse him
for a meddling fool!’
‘He, doubtless, did it for the best. The whole of thy Cabinet approved,
so did the nation. It is a new thing for me to learn that our Emperor
lives unhappily with his spouse—I cannot understand it.’
‘I never felt the chains gall till now, Mercia. A quiet indifference
kept me content until thy beauty set my heart a-beating with a new joy.
I knew not love till mine eyes dwelt upon thy loveliness, and mine ears
listened to the words that flowed from thy lips like a sweet, rippling
fountain, whose waters gave forth a pure, clear, life-giving stream.
Yes, I have drunk therein, and am filled with new emotions—new joys—new
hopes—new life!’ He clasped his hands in an ecstasy of happiness, as at
that supreme moment he gave rein to the powerful impulses that swayed
him.
‘Now is my beauty an evil thing, and a curse to me!’ cried Mercia, at
the moment bowing her head in deep dejection, and hiding her face in her
hands.
‘Would I had never been born, or that nature had shaped me uncomely, for
then this misfortune could not have overtaken me! Two men desire me, and
I may not have either. I must live in a world filled, like a garden with
flowers—flowers and blossoms of love; yet I may not touch them; their
fragrance is not for me; not one may I wear on my breast! Yet, they nod
and beckon me to pluck them: they offer me the incense of their being,
and would fain spend their full fragrance upon me; for their desire is
to nestle on my bosom, and give me the joy of their beauty and love.’
She spoke as one entranced, who ignoring all listeners felt naught of
the presence of another. For the moment her anguish was her only
companion, which the presence of Felicitas could not restrain. It was
the bursting wail of a heart kept long in subjection and unnatural
restriction, which now claimed its rights. Thus did the longing for love
bring sorrow to Mercia, such sorrow as she had never before tasted.
As Felicitas gazed upon the beautiful woman standing before him in an
attitude of grief and despair, her head bowed down, her arms
outstretched, showing the contour of her perfect form, he felt as one in
a dream—a ravishing dream that inspired every sense with a deliciousness
he had never before experienced.
On his enraptured ears her words fell like the music of a poem, for the
full, rich, melodious _timbre_ of her voice lent to them a peculiar
charm: their pathos melted him; their sweetness enchained him.
Seized anew with the intoxication of his passion he sank on his knees
before her; his whole frame quivered with emotion, while the varying
tones of his voice testified how greatly the torrent of his passion
swept through his soul.
‘Mercia, Mercia, give me thy love!’ he cried impetuously; ‘take me, my
beloved, spurn me no longer, for without thee I am as one dead! As a
world without sun, having no life, nor warmth, I shall go on my way
darkened for ever. Take me into the sunshine of thy love; give me new
life, dearest. Resuscitate and refresh me with the joy of thy beauty;
and let us drink of the wine of love’s pleasures for ever. Then shall we
two learn how good it is to love; how sweet it is to be together; how
delightful the blending of two souls made satisfied with their own
companionship.’
As one in a dream Mercia listened to his passionate outpourings; she
drank in his words as gratefully as the parched earth a summer’s shower;
but her mind was with Geometrus. In imagination she was with him,
listening to the pent-up eloquence that his soft dark eyes daily
expressed.
‘It is Geometrus who speaks!’ she murmured absently; ‘Geometrus has
opened his heart to me at last!’
‘Geometrus!’ shouted the Emperor, almost out of his head with rage and
jealousy; ‘it is _not_ Geometrus—it is I, Felicitas—Felicitas thine
Emperor who abjectly offers thee his love, and his crown, and sues thee,
Mercia—his subject—his servant!’
Then Mercia, awakening from her love-dream began to realise her true
position. For an instant she paused, and passed her hand across her
brow, as if to recover her senses; then she said in a deliberate and
dignified voice—
‘Felicitas, the Emperor hath no crown to offer his subject, Mercia, for
it sits already on the brow of his royal spouse; neither has he love to
offer his servant, Mercia, for it is sworn to his Empress for ever. It
is an insult to me, Mercia, thine offer of illicit love, and I refuse to
longer remain in thy service.’
Upon hearing these words the heat of his temper suddenly cooled; he saw
he had not only ruined his cause with the lady, but he was bringing upon
himself public dishonour; for the reason of the resignation of their
gifted and enthusiastic astronomer would be demanded by both ministers
and nation alike. As she turned to leave the apartment, for she
disdained having further converse with him, he forcibly caught her by
the dress, with a view of detaining her.
‘Stay, Mercia, stay, and listen to me! Listen to one word more, I
beseech thee. Thou shalt, for indeed I will not let thee go!’ He shouted
fiercely, for she was wrenching herself out of his grasp.
‘Touch me not!’ she exclaimed excitedly, ‘or I will kill thee as thou
standest!’ and from her girdle she took a small ebony stick,
electrically charged, which she wore as a kind of life-preserver, in
accordance with the custom of ladies, who worked, or walked out a good
deal alone.
She had reached the door, and opened it, when who should rush upon the
scene but Geometrus accompanied by the Emperor’s cousin, Prince Osbert,
who had been seeking him for some time past.
‘Mercia insulted, and by the Emperor! What is the meaning of this?’
inquired Geometrus, at the same time facing Felicitas with eyes of fire.
‘I am not insulting her,’ coolly rejoined the Emperor, ‘she has
disobeyed my commands respecting some important astronomical information
I required, and is endeavouring to shield her own shortcomings by
getting into a rage: ’tis woman’s way, but I’ll have none of it.’
Then Mercia drawing herself up to her full height, exclaimed in
indignant voice—‘Liar, and traitor, I despise thee! Bid thine Empress
come hither, I have somewhat to tell her. As for me, I shall never
receive thee here again, thou woman-betrayer! Get some other to fill my
place, for I shall quit it forthwith.’
Then she turned away with haughty mien and left the apartment.
‘What’s all the row?’ inquired the Emperor’s cousin, who affected
vulgarity of speech when with his intimates.
‘Explain this, Sire,’ demanded Geometrus, who was bursting with surprise
equally as indignation.
‘Bah, it is naught—it is much ado about nothing,’ replied the Emperor
shrugging his shoulders.
‘I do not believe it,’ promptly answered Geometrus; ‘my mistress is too
gentle, too self-restrained, and too honourable to make an unjust
accusation against anyone; least of all, her royal master. This matter
shall be looked into, Sire. Though thou art an Emperor thy conduct shall
be examined, and the light of the noonday sun thrown upon it; for it is
meet that those filling high places be honourable men.’
‘If Mistress Mercia sees fit to give up her post, thou Geometrus canst
worthily fill it,’ observed Felicitas in an insinuating manner, hoping
to mollify him by offering to place him in a more exalted position.
‘By all that’s good, I take not my mistress’s place because thou hast
made it intolerable for her! No, Sire, that shall not be. But certainly
thou shalt answer for this day’s work, I warn thee.’
‘Thou hast no proof at all, fellow, that I have done aught amiss, save
her lying tale: it is all a woman’s hysterical nonsense, and I am sick
of the pother made of it,’ observed the Emperor, affecting great scorn.
‘Let’s be off!’ cried Prince Osbert lightly; ‘we have had enough of this
now. Let the woman wiseacres in Parliament settle this little matter
among themselves: it will afford them much satisfaction, I’ll warrant.’
‘Parliament!’ echoed the Emperor, while his face turned very white.
‘Surely not: this trifle is unworthy serious consideration. It would ill
become our wise Senate if it occupied itself with the consideration of a
woman’s silly nonsense. I will, myself, settle this matter with Mistress
Mercia. I promise that, gentlemen, so do not trouble yourselves further
about it.’
‘It shall not end in this way;’ returned Geometrus firmly; ‘I shall see
that this matter is not hushed up.’
‘So shall I!’ came from a voice from behind a screen in the room; when
therefrom emerged an old man named Sadbag, a leading Radical politician,
who was dead against Royalty, and affected reform, advocating strongly a
Republican form of Government.
‘The Emperor’s conduct is a disgrace to our civilisation,’ he continued,
‘I have seen the beginning and end of the whole affair; for I was seated
reading in that corner yonder, awaiting an audience of Mistress Mercia,
when the Emperor was ushered in unnoticed by me; I continued reading
until I dropped asleep and was aroused by the Emperor’s passionate tones
when making his love-appeals to the obdurate Mistress Mercia. She
scorned him, and he got furious. I saw it all! I will never forget the
scene if I live to the age of Methuselah!’
‘My stars, but Kate will make it hot for thee! She will have good cause
for her jealousy this time, old man! I wouldn’t be in thy shoes for a
kingdom; fancy, the virtuous Felicitas caught corrupting his astronomer!
Oh, my, this is funny!’ cried the light-minded prince, who laughed
heartily, at the thought of the scrape his cousin had got into.
‘Funny isn’t the word for it—it is atrocious—abominable! It hath been
ever the custom of idle monarchs to fill up their time with seducing
good women. The hunting is more keen when the lady is virtuous, and
thereby the game made all the more delightful. Let’s do away with such
good-for-naughts—they are a disgrace to our country!’ cried the old man
excitedly addressing Geometrus.
‘So then, wouldst thou trump up a story to lose me my crown in order to
establish thine own political absurdities? Thou, and the woman Mercia
are in league against me! You twain have hatched this conspiracy to work
my disgrace. But I will scatter it to the winds—I will prove its utter
falsity. I will show how futile are your plans to bring about a
revolution: Mercia and thou shall die for your crimes; for it is nothing
short of high treason.’
‘High bunkum, thy Majesty talkest!’ retorted Sadbag sarcastically; ‘thy
blundering only equals thy blustering. Thy cousin, the prince, and
Geometrus are witnesses of the truth of my statement, for they saw for
themselves the fag end of the affair; they caught thee forcibly
detaining the lady, and heard her threaten to kill thee.’
‘That of itself makes high treason! To threaten the life of the
Sovereign is enough—the law still holds good in my realms to punish such
crime with death. This one charge alone against Mercia is sufficient!
She must die the death of a felon, and pay for her temerity,’ returned
Felicitas, who thus interpreted the law with much assumption of dignity,
to suit his own convenience.
‘The nation will not see Mercia die for such a dastard as thou!’
exclaimed Geometrus, suddenly awakening from the stupor of surprise that
had overtaken him, as the matter developed itself. ‘I saw thee last week
philandering around her, but at that time I understood not its meaning;
neither did she; otherwise she would have taken more precaution in
receiving thee. Even then, she requested me to remain in the room when
she gave thee an audience. She surely had some instinct that thou wert
not to be trusted—ah—now I see it all!’
‘A trusty witness truly! She and thou have spent the time philandering
yourselves, and this is why thou measureth me a peck out of thine own
bushel. Thou shalt be indicted, Geometrus, for breaking the oath of
thine engagement. Thou hast been spending the nation’s time love-making,
and hatching high treason,—all three of you shall repent your little
games.’
‘Blacking the character of another will not clear thine own. These
wholesale indictments of thine will not serve thee. Thy case is a poor
one, and thou hadst better own thy fault, rather than invent outrageous
charges against thine accusers;’ urged the old man with greater calmness
than he had hitherto displayed.
‘Mercia made the admission herself,’ replied Felicitas. ‘She said she
loved Geometrus and fain would marry him if she might.’
At this Geometrus started, and went very red in the face; being totally
unprepared for this avowal of the Emperor; which gave him a sudden
pleasure he was unable to conceal.
‘There is proof abundant, if more be wanting, of the nature of the
Emperor’s business with Mercia,’ observed Sadbag reflectively, then
turning to the Emperor, he demanded—‘What happened that this matter of
Geometrus’s love was discussed between you?’
‘She desired me to use my influence with my Cabinet to get the custom
changed which hath been so long observed, so that she might retain her
post and take a husband at the same time.’
‘And thou, in thy great benevolence and generosity didst promise, and
finish by trying to make her pay for the boon by accommodating thy
desire?’ suggested Sadbag, following up the clue the Emperor’s
admissions had given him.
‘I will answer no more of thy questions, fellow,’ responded Felicitas,
who looking very uncomfortable made for the door.
‘I think this business is getting too hot for thy Majesty; thy capers
are costing too dearly. What folly to count on a strong-minded woman
like thine astronomer! Why didst thou not make advances to some idle
lady of thy court where such favours are dispensed more readily?’
‘I will have thee indicted for a revolutionist and a maker of mischief
in my realms, and pay thee well for all these insults,’ retorted the
Emperor as he left the Observatory.
‘Bounce and boast help no one for long; not even an Emperor!’ called out
Sadbag after him.