"Ah, sire," exclaimed Pazza, "you are not complimentary to my aunt;
she is considerably older than I am."
"Hush, gipsy!" said the old lady, smiling; "don't you know that nobody
lectures kings?"
"Countess," said Bizarre, "an idea has just struck me, which is so
strange that I hardly dare tell it to you; yet I have a violent wish
to carry it out. I can do nothing with my son; reason has no power
with the stubborn child. Who knows whether folly would not be more
successful? If I thought so, I would make Pazza Charming's teacher.
The intractable boy, who rejects all masters, might be defenseless
before a child. The only objection is that no one will be of my
opinion; I shall have everybody against me."
"Bah!" said the countess; "everybody is so stupid that it is a proof
that you are right that you think differently."
III
THE FIRST LESSON
In this manner Pazza was intrusted with the instruction of the young
prince. There was no official appointment; it was not announced in the
court gazette that the king, with his usual wisdom, had found an
unparalleled genius at the first attempt, to whom he had confided the
heart and mind of his child; but the very next morning Charming was
sent to the countess's house, and was permitted to play with Pazza.
The two children, left alone together, gazed at each other in silence.
Pazza, being the bolder, was the first to speak.
"What is your name?" asked she.
"Those who know me call me Your Highness," answered Charming, in a
piqued tone; "those who do not know me call me simply My Lord, and
everybody says Sir to me; etiquette requires it."
"What is etiquette?" asked Pazza.
"I don't know," replied Charming. "When I want to jump, shout, and
roll on the ground, I am told that it is contrary to etiquette; then I
keep still, and yawn for lack of amusement--that is etiquette."
"Since we are here to amuse ourselves," resumed Pazza, "there is no
etiquette needed; speak to me as if I were your sister, and I will
speak to you as if you were my brother. I will not call you My Lord."
"But you don't know me," said Charming.
"What does that matter?" returned Pazza; "I will love you, that is
better. They say that you dance beautifully; teach me to dance, will
you?"
The ice was broken; Charming took the young girl by the waist, and in
less than half an hour taught her the last new polka.
"How well you dance!" said he. "You have caught the step directly."
"It is because you are a good teacher," she replied. "Now it is my
turn to teach you something."
She took a beautiful picture-book, and showed him fine buildings,
fishes, statesmen, parrots, scholars, curious animals, and flowers,
all of which greatly amused Charming.
"See," said Pazza, "here is the explanation of all the pictures; read
it."
"I don't know how to read," replied Charming.
"I will teach you; I will be your little tutor."
"No," replied the stubborn prince, "I do not wish to read. My masters
tire me."
"Very well; but I am not a master. See, here is an A, a beautiful
great A; say A."
"No," returned Charming, frowning, "I will never say A."
"Not to please me?"
"No, never. Enough of this; I do not like people to differ from me."
"Sir," said Pazza, "a polite man never refuses ladies anything."
"I would refuse the devil in petticoats," replied the young prince,
tossing his head. "I am tired of you; let me alone. I don't love you
any longer. Call me My Lord."
"My Lord Charming, or my charming lord," said Pazza, flushed with
anger, "you shall read, or I will know the reason why."
"I won't read."
"Will you not? One--two--three!"
"No! no! no!"
Pazza raised her hand, and, lo! the king's son received a box on the
ear. Pazza had been told that she was witty to the ends of her
fingers, and had been stupid enough to believe it; it is never right
to jest with children.
[Illustration: PAZZA, THOUGH SHE LOVED THE PRINCE, WAS A VERY STERN
SCHOOLMISTRESS]
At this first lesson in reading, Charming turned pale and trembled;
the blood mounted to his cheeks, his eyes filled with tears, and he
gazed at his young teacher with a look that made her start; then all
at once, with a great effort, he regained his self-possession, and
said, in a tremulous voice, "Pazza, that is A." And the same day and
at one sitting he learned all the letters of the alphabet; at the end
of the week he spelled readily, and before the month was ended he read
with ease.
King Bizarre was delighted. He kissed Pazza on both cheeks; he
insisted on having her always with him or his son, and made this child
his friend and counselor, to the great disdain of all the courtiers.
Charming, still gloomy and silent, learned all that this young mentor
could teach him, then returned to his former preceptors, whom he
astonished by his intelligence and docility. He soon knew his grammar
so well that the priest asked himself one day whether, by chance,
these definitions, which he had never understood, had not a meaning.
Charming none the less astonished the philosopher, who taught him
every evening the opposite of what the priest had taught him in the
morning. But, of all his masters, the one to whom he listened with the
least repugnance was the colonel. It is true that Bayonet, for that
was the colonel's name, was a skilful strategist, and that he could
say, like the ancient poet, with a slight variation, "I am a man, and
nothing that pertains to the art of despatching poor human beings is
indifferent to me." It was he that initiated Charming into the
mysteries of button gaiters and shoulder-straps; it was he that taught
his pupil that the noblest study for a prince is the drilling of
battalions, and that the groundwork of statesmanship is to have
reviews in order to make war, and to make war in order to have
reviews.
This was not perhaps altogether according to Bizarre's idea of the art
of government; but he thought he could correct any errors in the
future, and besides, he was so rejoiced at Charming's progress that he
was unwilling in any way to meddle with the admirable work of an
education so long considered hopeless.
"My child," he often said, "never forget that you owe everything to
Pazza." As the king spoke thus, Pazza gazed tenderly at the young man.
Despite all her wit, she was foolish enough to love him. Charming
contented himself with coldly answering that gratitude was a princely
virtue, and that Pazza should some day learn that her pupil had
forgotten nothing.
IV
PAZZA'S WEDDING
When Prince Charming had attained his seventeenth year, he went one
morning in search of King Bizarre, whose health was declining and who
was very desirous of seeing his son married before his death.
"Father," said he, "I have long reflected on your wise words. You gave
me life, but Pazza has done still more in awakening my mind and soul.
I see but one way of paying the debt of my heart; that is, to marry
the woman to whom I am indebted for what I am. I come to ask you for
Pazza's hand."
"My dear child," answered Bizarre, "this step does you credit. Pazza
is not of royal blood; she is not the one whom, in different
circumstances, I should have chosen for your wife; but her virtues,
her merit, and, above all, the service which she has rendered us, make
me forget idle prejudices. Pazza has the soul of a queen; she shall
mount the throne with you. In the country of Wild Oats, wit and humor
are held in sufficient estimation to win you forgiveness for what
fools call a misalliance, and what I call a princely marriage. Happy
is he who can choose an intelligent wife, capable of understanding and
loving him! To-morrow your betrothal shall be celebrated, and in two
years your marriage shall take place."
The marriage occurred more speedily than the king had foreseen.
Fifteen months after these memorable words, Bizarre expired of languor
and exhaustion. He had taken the vocation of king in earnest; he fell
a victim to royalty. The old countess and Pazza wept their friend and
benefactor, but they were the only mourners. Without being a bad son,
Charming was engrossed with the cares of the empire; and the court
expected everything from the new reign, and thought no more about the
old king, whose eyes were closed in death.
After honoring his father's memory by magnificent obsequies, the young
prince, thenceforth wholly devoted to love, celebrated his marriage
with a splendor that charmed the good people of Wild Oats. The taxes
were doubled, but who could regret money so nobly employed? Men came
from a hundred leagues round to gaze at the new king, and Pazza, whose
growing beauty and air of goodness fascinated all hearts, was not less
admired. There were interminable dinners, harangues longer than the
dinners, and poems more tedious than the harangues. In a word, it was
an incomparable festival, which was talked of for six months after.
Evening come, Charming took the hand of his graceful, timid, and
blushing bride, and with cold politeness led her through the corridors
of the old castle. All at once Pazza was frightened to find herself in
a gloomy dungeon, with grated windows and huge bars and locks.
"What is this?" asked she. "It looks like a prison."
"Yes," said the prince, with a terrible look, "it is a prison which
you will quit only for the grave."
"My dear, you frighten me," said Pazza, smiling. "Am I a criminal
without knowing it? Have I deserved your displeasure, that you
threaten me with a dungeon?"
"You have a short memory," replied Charming. "An insult is written on
sand to the giver; it is inscribed on marble and bronze to the
receiver."
"Charming," returned the poor child, beginning to be afraid, "you are
repeating something from those speeches that tired me so much. Can you
find nothing better to say to me to-day?"
"Wretch!" cried the king, "you no longer remember the box on the ear
that you gave me seven years ago, but I have not forgotten it. Know
that if I wished you for my wife, it has been only to have your life
in my hands and to make you slowly expiate your crime of high
treason."
"My dear," said Pazza, with a pettish manner, "you may put on your
Bluebeard airs, but you will not frighten me, I assure you. I know
you, Charming, and I warn you that if you do not put an end to this
bad jest, I will not only give you one box on the ear, but three,
before I forgive you. Make haste and let me go out, or I vow that I
will keep my word."
"Vow it then, madame," cried the prince, furious at not intimidating
his victim. "I accept your vow. I vow, too, on my side, that I will
never acknowledge you as my wife till I have been base enough to
receive three times an insult which nothing but blood can wash out.
He laughs well that laughs last. Here, Rachimburg!"
At this terrible name, a jailer with a bushy beard and threatening
mien entered the room, pushed the queen on a wretched truckle-bed, and
shut and double-locked the iron door.
If Pazza wept, it was so quietly that no one heard her. Tired of the
silence, Charming departed, with rage in his heart, resolving that his
rigor should break the pride that braved him. Vengeance, it is said,
is the delight of kings.
Two hours later the countess received a note by a sure hand
acquainting her with the sad fate of her niece. How this note reached
her is known to me, but I will not betray the secret. If a charitable
jailer is found by chance, he should be treated with consideration;
the species is rare, and is daily becoming rarer.
V
A TERRIBLE EVENT
The next morning the court gazette announced that the queen had been
seized with a raging fit of madness on the very night of her wedding,
and that there was little hope of saving her. There was scarcely a
courtier, indeed, that had not observed the princess's restless air on
the evening before, and no one was surprised at her malady. All pitied
the king, who received with a gloomy and constrained mien the
expressions of affection which were lavished on him. He was doubtless
weighed down with grief, but this grief appeared very much lightened
after the visit of the countess.
The good lady was very sad, and had a great desire to see her poor
child, but she was so old, and found herself so weak and sensitive,
that she entreated the king to spare her a heartrending spectacle. She
threw herself into the arms of Charming, who tenderly embraced her,
and withdrew, saying that she placed all her hope and trust in the
love of the king and the talent of the chief physician of the court.
She had scarcely left the room when the physician whispered a few
words in Charming's ear which called to his face a smile quickly
repressed. The countess pacified, there was nothing more to fear; the
vengeance was sure.
Doctor Wieduwillst was a great physician. Born in the country of
Dreams, he had early quitted his native land to seek his fortune in
the kingdom of Wild Oats. He was too able a man not to find it. In the
five years that he had spent in the celebrated University of
Lugenmaulberg, the medical theory had changed twenty-five times, and,
thanks to this solid education, the doctor had a firmness of principle
which nothing could shake. He had the frankness and bluntness of a
soldier, it was said; he swore at times, even with ladies, a rudeness
which left him at liberty always to be of the same mind with the
stronger, and to demand a fee for having no opinion. The queen had
fallen into his incorruptible hands.
She had been imprisoned for three days, and the town was already
beginning to talk of something else, when one morning Rachimburg
abruptly entered the king's apartments with a distracted air, and
threw himself trembling at his feet.
"Sire," said he, "I bring you my head. The queen has disappeared."
"What do you tell me!" exclaimed the king, turning pale. "The thing is
impossible; the dungeon is barred on all sides."
"Yes," said the jailer, "the thing is impossible, that is certain; the
bars are in their places, the walls are whole, and neither the locks
nor the bolts have been disturbed; but there are witches in the world
that pass through walls without moving a stone, and who knows but what
the prisoner is one of them? Was it ever known whence she came?"
The king sent in search of the doctor. He was a strong-minded man and
had little faith in witches. He sounded the walls, shook the bars, and
cross-examined the jailer, but all to no purpose. Trusty men were sent
everywhere through the town, and spies were set on the countess, whom
the doctor suspected, but all in vain, and after a week the search
was abandoned. Rachimburg lost his place as jailer, but as he
possessed the royal secret, as he was needed, and as he thirsted to
avenge himself, he was made the warden of the royal castle. Furious at
his bad luck, he exercised his supervision with such strictness that
in less than three days he arrested Wieduwillst himself half a dozen
times, and disarmed all suspicion.
At the end of a week some fishermen brought to the court the robe and
mantle of the queen. The waves had cast on the shore these sad relics,
covered with sand and sea-foam. That the poor mad woman had drowned
herself no one doubted on seeing the grief of the king and the tears
of the countess. The council was assembled. It decided with a
unanimous voice that the queen was legally dead and that the king was
legally a widower, and for the interest of the people entreated his
majesty to abridge a painful mourning and to marry again as soon as
possible, in order to strengthen the dynasty. This decision was
transmitted to the king by Wieduwillst, the chief physician to the
king and president of the royal council, who made so touching a speech
that the whole court burst into tears, and Charming threw himself into
the doctor's arms, calling him his cruel friend.
It is unnecessary to say that the funeral of a queen so much lamented
was magnificent. In the kingdom of Wild Oats everything serves as a
pretext for ceremony. The pageant was worthy of admiration, but the
most admirable thing in it was the attitude of the young girls of the
court. Every one looked at Charming, who was handsomer than ever in
his mourning dress; every one wept with one eye in honor of the
princess, and smiled with the other to attract the king. Ah! had
photography only been invented, what portraits would antiquity have
transmitted to us--what models for our painters! The passions still
existed among these good people; their mobile faces were animated by
love, hatred, and anger; to-day we are all so virtuous and prudent
that we all wear the same dress, the same hat, and the same
expression. Civilization is the triumph of morality and the ruin of
art.
After the description of the funeral ceremonies, which, according to
etiquette, filled six columns, the court gazette laid down rules for
the full and the second mourning, blue and pink, which are the
mourning colors in the kingdom of Wild Oats. The court was required to
be in deep affliction for three weeks, and to be comforted by degrees
during the three weeks following; but carnival occurring during the
period of the second mourning, and respect being had for trade, it was
determined to give a masked ball at the palace. Tailors and
dressmakers immediately set to work, invitations were solicited by
great and small, and men began to intrigue as if the fate of the
monarchy had been in question.
It was in this solemn manner that they mourned for poor Pazza.
VI
THE MASKED BALL
The great day so impatiently expected at length arrived. For six weeks
the good people of Wild Oats had been in a fever of excitement.
Nothing more was heard of ministers, senators, generals, magistrates,
princesses, duchesses, and citizens; for twenty leagues round, clowns,
harlequins, punchinellos, gipsies, Columbines, and Follies alone were
to be seen. Politics were silenced, or, rather, the nation was divided
into two great parties--the conservatives that went to the ball, and
the opposition that stayed at home.
If the official gazette is to be believed, the festival outshone in
splendor all others past and to come. The ball was held in the midst
of the gardens, in a rotunda magnificently decorated. A winding walk,
shaded by elms and dimly lighted by alabaster lamps, led to a hall
resplendent with gold, verdure, flowers, and light. An orchestra, half
concealed in the foliage, breathed forth music, by turns plaintive and
gay. Add to this the richness of the costumes, the brilliancy of the
diamonds, the piquancy of the masks, and the charm of intrigue, and
you will see that it would have needed the soul of an ancient Stoic to
resist the intoxication of pleasure.
Yet Prince Charming was not amused. Concealed under a blue domino,
with his face entirely masked, he had addressed himself to the most
elegant and sprightly women, and had lavishly displayed his wit and
grace, yet he had met with nothing but indifference and coldness. They
scarcely listened to him, answered with a yawn, and hastened to quit
him. All eyes were fixed on a black domino with pink rosettes that
moved carelessly among the dancers, receiving with the air of a sultan
the compliments and smiles that every one lavished on him. This domino
was the Lord Wieduwillst, a great friend of the prince, but still more
the friend of his own pleasure. In an unguarded moment the doctor had
said that morning by chance, under the seal of secrecy, and to two
ladies only, that the prince would wear pink rosettes in his black
domino. Was it his fault if the ladies had been indiscreet or the
prince had changed his mind?
While the doctor was enjoying, despite himself, indeed, his unexpected
triumph, Charming seated himself in a corner of the hall and buried
his face in his hands. Alone in the midst of the crowd, he abandoned
himself to reflection, and the image of Pazza rose before him. He had
no reproaches to make himself; his vengeance was just, yet he felt an
indescribable remorse. Poor Pazza! no doubt she had been guilty; but
at least she loved him, she understood him, she listened to him, her
eyes sparkling with joy. How different from all those fools who had
not recognized a prince under a domino at the first moment by his wit!
He rose suddenly to quit the hall, when he perceived, a little way
off, a mask that had also left the crowd and seemed lost in
contemplation. A half-open domino disclosed a gipsy's dress and a pair
of slippers with buckles, containing a foot smaller than that of
Cinderella.
The king approached the stranger, and saw through the velvet mask a
pair of large black eyes, the melancholy glance of which surprised and
charmed him.
"Fair mask," said he, "your place is not here. Why are you not among
the eager and curious crowd that is pressing around the prince to
dispute his smile and heart? Do you not know that there is a crown to
be gained there?"
"I make no pretentions," answered the domino, in a grave, sweet voice.
"In this game of chance one runs the risk of taking the servant for
the king. I am too proud to expose myself to such a hazard."
"But if I show you the prince?"
"What could I say to him?" replied the stranger. "I could not blame
him without offense, or praise him without flattery."
"You think much evil of him, then?"
"No, a little evil and much good; but what does it matter?" And,
opening her fan, the domino relapsed into her reverie.
This indifference surprised Charming. He addressed her with warmth,
she replied coldly; he prayed her so urgently to listen to him that
she finally consented to do so, not in the ball-room, where the heat
was overpowering and the curiosity indiscreet, but in the long
elm-walk, where a few promenaders were seeking silence and fresh air.
The night was advancing, and the gipsy had already spoken several
times of retiring, to the great regret of the prince, who vainly
entreated her to unmask. The stranger made no reply.
"You drive me to despair," cried he, inspired with strange respect and
admiration for this mysterious figure. "Why this cruel silence?"
"Because I know you, my lord," replied the stranger, with emotion.
"Your voice, which goes to the heart, your language, your grace, all
tell me who you are. Let me go, Prince Charming."
"No, madam," cried the prince, delighted at so much wit, "you alone
have recognized me, you alone have understood me, to you belong my
heart and kingdom. Throw off that suspicious mask; this very instant
we will return to the ball-room and I will present to the ignorant
crowd the woman whom I have had the happiness not to displease. Say
but one word, and all my people shall be at your feet."
"My lord," replied the stranger, sadly, "permit me to refuse an offer
which does me honor and the memory of which I shall always preserve. I
am ambitious, I own; the time has been when I should have been proud
to share your throne and name; but before all things I am a woman and
place all my happiness in love. I will not have a divided heart,
should my rival be only a memory; I am jealous even of the past."
"I have never loved in my life," cried the prince, with a vehemence
that made the stranger start. "There is a mystery concerning my
marriage which I can reveal only to my wife; but I swear to you that I
have never given away my heart; I love now for the first time."
"Show me your hand," said the gipsy, approaching the lamp, "and let me
see whether you have told the truth."
Charming extended his hand with assurance; the gipsy studied the lines
and sighed.
"You are right, my lord," said she, "you have never loved. But this
does not appease my jealousy. Another woman has loved you before me.
These sacred bonds are not broken by death; the queen still loves
you--you belong to her. To accept a heart which is no longer at your
disposal would be sacrilegious and criminal in me. Farewell."
"Madam," said the king, with an ill-assured voice, "you do not know
what you make me suffer. There are things which I would gladly burn in
eternal silence, but which you force me to reveal. The queen never
loved me; ambition alone dictated her conduct."
"That is not so," said the stranger, letting go the prince's hand.
"The queen loved you."
"No, madam," replied Charming; "my father and I were the victims of a
detestable intrigue."
"Enough!" said the stranger, whose hands trembled and whose fingers
worked in a strange manner. "Respect the dead; do not slander them."