When the Grand Duke Ferdinand of Carinthia travelled in state to wed the
Princess Sophia of Ysselmonde, he did so by land, and for two reasons;
the first being that this was the shortest way, and the second that he
possessed no ships. These, at any rate, were the reasons alleged by his
Chancellor, to whom he left all arrangements. For himself, he took very
little interest in the marriage beyond inquiring the age of his bride.
"Six years," was the answer, and this seemed to him very young, for he
had already passed his tenth birthday.
The Pope, however, had contrived and blessed the match; so Ferdinand
raised no serious objection, but in due course came to Ysselmonde with
his bodyguard of the famous Green Carinthian Archers, and two hundred
halberdiers and twelve waggons--four to carry his wardrobe, and the
remaining eight piled with wedding presents. On the way, while
Ferdinand looked for birds' nests, the Chancellor sang the praises of
the Princess Sophia, who (he declared) was more beautiful than the day.
"But you have never seen her," objected Ferdinand. "No, your Highness,
and that is why I contented myself with a purely conventional phrase;"
and the Chancellor, who practised _finesse_ in his odd moments, began to
talk of the sea, the sight of which awaited them at Ysselmonde.
"And what is the sea like?" "Well, your Highness, the sea is somewhat
difficult to describe, for in fact there is nothing to compare with it."
"You have seen it, I suppose?" "Sire, I have done more; for once, while
serving as Ambassador at Venice, I had the honour to be upset in it."
With such converse they beguiled the road until they reached Ysselmonde,
and found the sea completely hidden by flags and triumphal arches.
And there, after three days' feasting, the little Grand Duke and the
still smaller Princess were married in the Cathedral by the Cardinal
Archbishop, and the Pope's legate handed them his master's blessing in a
morocco-covered case, and as they drove back to the Palace the Dutchmen
waved their hats and shouted "Boo-mp!" but the Carinthian Archers cried
"Talassio!" which not only sounded better, but proved (when they
obligingly explained what it meant) that the ancestors of the Grand Duke
of Carinthia had lived in Rome long before any Pope.
On reaching the Palace the bride and bridegroom were taken to a gilded
drawing-room, and there left to talk together, while the guests filled
up the time before the banquet by admiring the presents and calculating
their cost. Ferdinand said, "Well, _that's_ over;" and the Princess
said, "Yes,"--for this was their first opportunity of conversing alone.
"You're a great deal better than I expected," said Ferdinand
reassuringly. Indeed, in her straight dress sewn with seed-pearls and
her coif of Dutch lace surmounted with a little crown of diamonds, the
Princess looked quite beautiful; and he in his white satin suit, crossed
with the blue ribbon of St. John Nepomuc, was the handsomest boy she had
ever seen. "Besides," he added, "my Chancellor says you are hereditary
High Admiral of the Ocean--it's in the marriage settlement; and that
would make up for a lot. Where is it?"
"The Ocean?" She felt very shy still. "I have never seen it, but I
believe it's somewhere at the bottom of the garden."
"Suppose we go and have a look at it?" She was about to say that she
must ask leave of her governess, but he looked so masterful and
independent that she hadn't the courage. It gave her quite a thrill as
he took her hand and led her out through the low window to the great
stone terrace. They passed down the terrace steps into a garden ablaze
with tulip beds in geometrical patterns; at the foot ran a yew hedge,
and beyond it, in a side-walk, they came upon a scullion boy chasing a
sulphur-yellow butterfly. The Grand Duke forgot his fine manners, and
dropped his bride's hand to join in the chase; but the boy no sooner
caught sight of him than he fled with a cry of dismay and popped into an
arbour. There, a minute later, the bride and bridegroom found him
stooping over a churn and stirring with might and main.
"What are you stirring, boy?" asked Ferdinand.
"Praised be the Virgin!" said the boy, "I _believe_ it's an ice-pudding
for the banquet. But they shouldn't have put the ice-puddings in the
same arbour as the fireworks; for, if your Highness will
allow me to say so, you can't expect old heads on young shoulders."
"Are the fireworks in our honour too?"
"Why, of course," the scullion answered; "everything is in your honour
to-day."
This simplified matters wonderfully. The children passed on through a
gate in the garden wall and came upon a clearing beside a woodstack; and
there stood a caravan with its shafts in the air. A woman sat on the
tilt at the back, reading, and every now and then glancing towards two
men engaged in deadly combat in the middle of the clearing, who shouted
as they thrust at one another with long swords.
The little Princess, who, except when driven in her state-coach to the
Cathedral, had never before strayed outside the garden, turned very pale
and caught at her husband's hand. But he stepped forward boldly.
"Now yield thee, caitiff, or thine hour has come!" shouted one of the
fighters and flourished his blade.
"Sooner I'll die than tum te tum te tum!" the other answered quite as
fiercely.
"Slave of thine become," said the woman from the caravan.
"Thank you. Sooner I'll die than slave of thine become!" He laid about
him with fresh vigour.
"Put down your swords," commanded Ferdinand.
"And now tell me who you are."
"We are Valentine and Orson," they answered.
"Indeed?" Ferdinand had heard of them, and shook hands affably.
"Then I'm very glad to make your acquaintance."
"And," said they, "we are rehearsing for the performance at the Palace
to-night in your Highnesses' honour."
"Oh, so this is in our honour too?"
"To be sure," said the woman; "and I am to dress up as Hymen and speak
the Epilogue in a saffron robe. It has some good lines; for instance--"
'Ye Loves and Genial Hours, conspire
To gratify this Royal Pair
With Sons impetuous as their Sire,
And Daughters as their Mother fair!'
"Thank you," said Ferdinand. "But we are very busy to-day and must take
one thing at a time. Can you tell us the way to the sea, please?"
The woman pointed along a path which led to a moss-covered gate and an
orchard where the apple-blossom piled itself in pink clouds against the
blue sky: as they followed the path they heard her laughing, and looked
back to see her still staring after them and laughing merrily, while
Valentine and Orson leaned on their swords and laughed too.
The orchard was the prettiest in the whole world. Blackbirds played
hide-and-seek beneath the boughs, blue and white violets hid in the tall
grass around the boles, and the spaces between were carpeted with
daisies to the edge of a streamlet. Over the streamlet sang thrushes
and goldfinches and bull-finches innumerable, and their voices shook
down the blossom like a fall of pink snow, which threatened to cover
even the daisies. The Grand Duke and the Princess believed that all
this beauty was in their honour, no less than the chorus of the bells
floating across the tree-tops from the city.
"This is the best of all," said Ferdinand as they seated themselves by
the stream. "I had no idea marriage was such fun. And they haven't
even forgotten the trout!" he cried, peering over the brink.
"Can you make daisy-chains?" asked the Princess timidly.
He could not; so she taught him, feeling secretly proud that there was
something he could learn of her. When the chain was finished he flung
it over his neck and kissed her. "Though I don't like kissing, as a
rule," he explained.
"And this shall be my wedding present," said she.
"Why, I brought you six waggon-loads!--beauties--all chosen by my
Chancellor."
"But he didn't make or choose this one," said Sophia, "and I like this
one best." They sat silent for a moment. "Dear me," she sighed,
"what a lot we have to learn of each other's ways!"
"Hullo!" Ferdinand was staring down the glade. "What's that line at the
end there, across the sky?"