"Yet was I calm. I knew the time
My breast would thrill before thy look;
But now, to tremble were a crime:
We met, and not a nerve was shook."
BYRON.
The excitement of the city did not subside with the close of the
procession. The quiet gravity and impressive appearance of age, which
had always marked Segovia, as a city more of the past than present,
gave place to all the bustling animation peculiar to a provincial
residence of royalty. Its central position gave it advantages over
Valladolid, the usual seat of the monarchs of Castile and Leon, to
sovereigns who were seeking the internal peace and prosperity of their
subjects, and were resolved on reforming abuses in every quarter of
their domains. The deputation from the city was graciously received;
their offering--a golden vase filled with precious stones--accepted,
and the seal put to their loyal excitement by receiving from
Isabella's own lips, the glad information that she had decided on
making Segovia her residence for the ensuing year, and that she
trusted the loyalty which the good citizens of Segovia had so warmly
proffered would be proved, by their endeavors in their own households
to reform the abuses which long years of misrule and misery had
engendered. She depended on them, her people, to aid her with heart
and hand, and bade them remember, no individual was so insignificant
as to remove his shoulder from the wheel on plea of uselessness. She
trusted to her citizen subjects to raise the internal glory of her
kingdom, as she did to her nobles to guard their safety, elevate her
chivalry, and by their untarnished honor and stainless valor, present
an invincible front to foreign foes. Isabella knew human nature well;
the citizens returned to their houses bound for ever to her service.
Don Luis Garcia had joined the train of Morales when he set forth to
meet the sovereigns. His extraordinary austerity and semblance of
lowly piety, combined as they were with universal talent, had been so
much noised abroad as to reach the ears of Ferdinand and Isabella; and
Morales, ever eager to promote the interests of a countryman, took
the earliest opportunity of presenting him to them. He was graciously
enough received: but, though neither spoke it, an indefinable feeling
of disappointment took possession of their minds, the wherefore they
knew not. Don Luis had conversed well, both as to the matter and
the manner; but neither Ferdinand nor Isabella felt the smallest
inclination to advance him to any post about themselves. In virtue
of his supposed rank, however, he of course mingled with the courtly
crowd, which on the appointed evening thronged the mansion of Don
Ferdinand.
Tremblingly as Marie looked forward to that evening, she spared no
pains to gratify her husband in the choice of her toilet. Sorrow had
never made her indifferent, and she sought to please him even in the
most trifling occurrences of life. Her beautiful hair still lay in
soft, glossy bands against the delicate cheeks, and was gathered up
behind in a massive plait, forming, as it were, a diadem at the back
of the exquisitely shaped head, from which fell a white veil--rather,
perhaps, a half mantle, as it shaded the shoulders, not the face--of
silver tissue, so delicately woven as to resemble lace, save in its
glittering material. A coronet of diamonds was wreathed in and out
the plait, removing all semblance of heaviness from the headgear, and
completely divesting it of gaudiness. Her robe, of blue brocade, so
closely woven with silver threads as to glisten in the light of a
hundred lamps almost like diamonds, had no ornament save the large
pearls which looped up the loose sleeves above the elbow, buttoned
the bodice or jacket down the front, and richly embroidered the wide
collar, which, thrown back, disclosed the wearer's delicate throat and
beautiful fall of the shoulders, more than her usual attire permitted
to be visible. The tiny white silk slipper, embroidered in pearl, a
collaret and bracelets of the same beautiful ornament, of very large
size, completed her costume.
Not even the presence of royalty could restrain the burst of
undisguised admiration which greeted Marie, as, led forward by her
eager husband, she was presented to the sovereigns, and knelt to do
them homage. Ferdinand himself gazed on her a moment astonished; then
with animated courtesy hastily raised her, and playfully chid the
movement as unmeet from a hostess to her guests.
A strange moisture had risen to the eyes of the Queen as she first
beheld Marie. It might have been that marvellous perfection of face
and form which caused the emotion; for if all perfection, even from
man's hand, is affecting even to tears, what must be the work of God?
It might have been that on that young, sweet face, to the Queen's
mental eye, a dim shadow from the formless realms of the future
hovered--that, stealing from that outward form of loveliness, she
beheld its twin sister, sorrow. Whatever it might have been, kind and
gentle as Isabella's manner ever was, especially to her own sex, to
Marie it was kinder and gentler still.
How false is the charge breathed from man's lips, that woman never
admires woman!--that we are incapable of the lofty feeling of
admiration of our own sex either for beautiful qualities or beauteous
form! There is no object in creation more lovely, more fraught with
intensest interest (if, indeed, we are not so wholly wrapt in the
petty world of self as to have none for such lofty sympathies) than a
young girl standing on the threshold of a new existence; beautiful,
innocent, and true; offspring as yet of joy and hope alone, but
before whom stretches the dim vista of graver years, and the yearning
thoughts, unspoken griefs, and buried feelings, which even in the
happiest career must still be woman's lot. There may be many who can
see no charm and feel no interest in girlhood's beauty: but not in
such is woman's best and holiest nature; and therefore not by such
should she be judged.
"We will not chide thee, Senor, for thy jealous care of this most
precious gem," said Isabella, addressing Don Ferdinand, while her eye
followed Marie, who, re-assured by the Queen's manner, had conquered
her painful timidity, and was receiving and returning with easy grace
and natural dignity the greetings and gallantries of her guests: "she
is too pure, too precious to meet the common eye, or breathe a courtly
atmosphere."
Don Ferdinand's eye glistened. "And yet I fear her not," he rejoined:
"she is as true, as loving, as she is loved and lovely."
"I doubt it not: nay, 'tis the spotless purity of soul breathing in
that sweet face, which I would not behold tainted, by association with
those less pure. No: let her rest within the sanctuary of thy heart
and hearth, Don Ferdinand. We do not command her constant attendance
on our person, as we had intended."
Conscious of the inexpressible relief which this assurance would be to
his wife, Morales eagerly and gratefully expressed his thanks; and the
Queen passed on, rejoicing in the power of so easily conferring joy.
We may not linger on the splendor of this scene, or attempt
description of the varied and picturesque groups filling the gorgeous
suite of rooms, pausing at times to admire the decorations of the
domed chamber, or passing to and fro in the hall of mirrors, gayly
reflected from the walls and pillars. The brilliant appearance of the
extensive gardens; their sudden and dazzling illuminations as night
advanced; their curious temples, and sparkling fountains sending up
sheets of silver in the still air and darkening night, and falling in
myriads of diamonds on innumerable flowers, whose brilliant coloring,
illuminated by small lamps, concealed beneath their foliage, shone
forth like gems; the groups of Moorish slaves, still as statues in
their various attitudes; the wild, barbaric music, startling, yet
delighting all who listened, and causing many an eager warrior to
grasp his sword, longing even at such a moment to exchange that
splendid scene for the clash and stir of war--we must leave all to
the imagination of our readers, and bid them follow us to the banquet
hall, where, summoned by the sound of the gong, the numerous guests
sat down to tables, groaning beneath the profuse hospitality of their
host, and the refined magnificence of the display.
All the warrior stirred the soul of the King, as, on taking his seat
at the dais, he glanced round and beheld the glorious triumphs of his
country so strikingly portrayed. But Isabella saw but one picture,
felt but one thought; and Marie never forgot the look she fixed on the
breathing portrait of Alfonso, nor the tone with which she inquired--
"Hadst thou ever a brother, Marie?"
"Never, royal Madam."
"Then thou canst not enter into the deep love I bore yon princely boy,
nor the feeling that picture brings. Marie, I would cast aside my
crown, descend my throne without one regretful murmur, could I but
hold him to my heart once more, as I did the night he bade me his glad
farewell. It was for ever! Thy husband speaks of him sometimes?"
"Often, often, my gracious liege, till his lip has quivered and his
eye has glistened!"
Isabella pressed her hand, and with even more than her wonted
graciousness, turned to receive from the hand of her host the gemmed
goblet of wine, which, in accordance with established custom, Don
Ferdinand knelt down to present, having first drunk of it himself.
Inspiringly sounded the martial music during the continuance of the
banquet. Brightly sparkled the brimming goblets of the far-famed
Spanish wine. Lightly round the table ran the gay laugh and gayer
jest. Soft and sweet were the whispers of many a gallant cavalier
to his fair companion; for, in compliment to Isabella, the national
reserve of the daughters of Spain was in some degree laid aside and a
free intercourse with their male companions permitted. Each, indeed,
wore the veil, which could be thrown off, forming a mantle behind, or
drawn close to conceal every feature, as coquettish fancy willed; nor
were the large fans wanting, with which the Spanish woman is said to
hold as long and desperate a flirtation as the coquette of other lands
can do with the assistance of voice and eye. Isabella's example had,
however, already created reformation in her female train, and
the national levity and love of intrigue, had in a great degree
diminished.
The animation of the scene was at its height when suddenly the music
ceased, a single gong was heard to sound, and Alberic, the senior
page, brought tidings of the arrival of new guests; and his master,
with native courtesy, hastened down the hall to give them welcome.
Marie had not heard, or, perhaps, had not heeded the interruption
in the music; for, fascinated by the manner and conversation of the
Queen, she had given herself up for the time wholly to its influence,
to the forgetfulness even of her inward self. The sound of many
footsteps and a rejoicing exclamation from the King, excited the
attention at once of Isabella and her hostess. Marie glanced down the
splendid hall; and well was it for her that she was standing behind
the Queen's seat, and somewhat deep in shadow. Momentary as was all
_visible_ emotion, its effect was such as must have caused remark and
wonder had it been perceived: on herself, that casual glance, was as
if she had received some invisibly dealt, yet fearful blow. Her brain
reeled, her eyes swam, a fearful, stunning sound awoke within her
ears, and such failing of bodily power as compelled her, spite of
herself, to grasp the Queen's chair for support. But how mighty--how
marvellous is the power of _will_ and _mind_! In less than a minute
every failing sense was recalled, every slackened nerve restrung, and,
save in the deadly paleness of lip, as well as cheek, not a trace of
that terrible conflict remained.
Aware that it was at a gay banquet he was to meet the King, Arthur
Stanley had arranged his dress with some care. We need only
particularize his sword, which was remarkable for its extreme
simplicity, the hilt being of the basket shape, and instead of being
inlaid with precious stones, as was the general custom of this day,
was composed merely of highly burnished steel. He had received it from
his dying father: and it was his pride to preserve it unsullied, as
it had descended to him. He heeded neither laughter at its uncouth
plainness, nor even the malicious sneer as to the poor Englishman's
incapacity to purchase a handsomer one; rejecting every offer of a
real Toledo, and declaring that he would prove both the strength and
brightness of English steel, so that none should gainsay it.
"Welcome, Don Arthur! welcome, Senor Stanley! By St. Francis, I shall
never learn thy native title, youth!" exclaimed the monarch, frankly,
as he extended his hand, which Stanley knelt to salute. "Returned with
fresher laurels, Stanley? Why, man, thou wilt make us thy debtor in
good earnest!"
"Nay, my gracious liege: that can never be!" replied Stanley,
earnestly. "Grateful I am, indeed, when there is opportunity to evince
fidelity and valor in your Grace's service; but believe me, where so
much has been and is received, not a life's devotion on my part can
remove the impression, that I am the debtor still."
"I believe thee, boy! I do believe thee! I would mistrust myself ere I
mistrusted thee. We will hear of thy doings to-morrow. Enough now to
know we are well satisfied with thy government in Sicily, and trust
our native subject who succeeds thee will do his part as well. Away to
thy seat, and rejoice that thou hast arrived ere this gay scene has
closed. Yet stay: our lovely hostess hath not yet given thee welcome.
Where is the Senora? Isabella, hast thou spirited her hence? She was
here but now."
"Nay, good my Lord: she has vanished unwittingly," replied Isabella,
as she turned towards the spot where Marie had been standing. "Don
Ferdinand, we must entreat thee to recall her!"
"It needs not, royal Madam: I am here:" and Marie stepped forward from
the deep shade of the falling drapery behind the royal seats which
had concealed her, and stood calmly, almost proudly erect beside the
Queen, the full light falling on her face and form. But there was
little need for light to recognize her: the voice was sufficient; and
even the vivid consciousness of where he stood, the hundred curious
eyes upon him, could not restrain the sudden start--the bewildered
look. Could that be Marie? Could that be the wife of Ferdinand
Morales? If she were the one, how could she be the other, when
scarcely eighteen months previous, she had told him that which, if
it were true, must equally prevent her union with Morales as with
himself? In what were they different save in the vast superiority of
wealth and rank? And in the chaos of bewildering emotions, so trustful
was he in the truth of her he loved, that, against the very evidence
of his own senses, he for the moment disbelieved in the identity
of the wife of Morales with the Marie Henriquez of the Cedar Vale.
Perhaps it was well he did so, for it enabled him to still the
tumultuous throbbing of his every pulse as her voice again sounded in
his ear, saying he was welcome, most welcome as her husband's friend,
and to retire without any apparent emotion to his seat.
He had merely bowed reverentially in reply. In any other person the
silence itself would have caused remark: but for the last three years
Stanley's reserve and silence in the company of women had been such,
that a departure from his general rule even in the present case would
have been more noticed than his silence. Thoughts of painful, almost
chaotic bewilderment indeed, so chased each other across his mind as
to render the scene around him indistinct, the many faces and eager
voices like the phantasma of a dream. But the pride of manhood roused
him from the sickening trance, and urged him to enter into the
details, called for by his companions in arms, of the revolt of the
Sicilians, with even more than usual animation.
One timid glance Marie had hazarded towards her husband, and it was
met by such a look and smile of love and pride that she was re-assured
to perform the duties of the evening unfalteringly to the end. Alas!
she little knew that her momentary emotion and that of Arthur had
alike been seen, commented upon, and welcomed with fiend-like glee,
as the connecting link of an until then impalpable plot, by one
individual in that courtly crowd, whose presence, hateful as it was,
she had forgotten in the new and happier thoughts which Isabella's
presence and notice had occasioned.
And who was there, the mere spectator of this glittering pageant,
but would have pronounced that there, at least, all was joy, and
good-will, and trust, and love? Who, even did they acknowledge the
theory that one human heart, unveiled, would disperse this vain dream
of seeming unalloyed enjoyment, would yet have selected the right
individual for the proof, or would not have shrunk back awed and
saddened had the truth been told? Surely it is well for the young,
the hopeful, and the joyous, that in such scenes they see but life's
surface--not its depths.
The festive scene lasted some time longer, nor did it conclude with
the departure of the King and Queen: many still lingered, wandering at
their own will about the rooms and gardens, and dispersing gradually,
as was then the custom, without any set farewell.
Her attendance no longer required by the Queen, and aware that her
presence was not needed by her guests, Marie sought the gardens; her
fevered spirit and aching head yearning to exchange the dazzling
lights and close rooms for the darkness and refreshing breeze of
night. Almost unconsciously she had reached some distance from the
house, and now stood beside a beautiful statue of a-water-nymph,
overlooking a deep still pool, so clear and limpid, that when the moon
cast her light upon it, it shone like a sheet of silver, reflecting
every surrounding object. There were many paths that led to it,
concealed one from the other by gigantic trees and overhanging shrubs.
It was a favorite spot with. Marie, and she now stood leaning against
the statue, quite unconscious that tears were falling faster and
faster from her eyes, and mingling with the waters at her feet.
"Marie!" exclaimed the voice of Stanley at that moment: "Canst thou be
Marie? so false, so--" but his words were checked, for the terror, the
tumult of feeling, while it impelled her to start from him, deprived
her of all power; and a rapid movement on his part alone prevented her
from falling in the deep pool beneath their feet. It was but a moment:
she withdrew herself from his supporting arms, and stood erect before
him, though words she had none.
"Speak to me!" reiterated Arthur, his voice sounding hollow and
changed; "I ask but one word. My very senses seem to play me false,
and mock me with thy outward semblance to one I have so loved. Her
name, too, was Marie; her voice soft and thrilling as thine own:
and yet, yet, I feel that 'tis but semblance--'tis but mockery--the
phantasy of a disordered brain. Speak, in mercy! Say that it is but
semblance--that thou art not the Marie I have so loved."
"It is true--I am that Marie. I have wronged thee most cruelly, most
falsely," she answered, in a tone low and collected indeed, but
expressive of intense suffering. "It is too late now, either to atone
or to explain. Leave me, Senor Stanley: I am another's!"
"Too late to explain? By heaven but thou shalt!" burst fiercely and
wrathfully from Stanley. "Is it not enough, that thou hast changed my
whole nature into gall, made truth itself a lie, purity a meaningless
word, but thou wilt shroud thyself under the specious hood of duty to
another, when, before heaven, thou wast mine alone. Speak!"
"Ay, I will speak--implore thee by the love thou didst once bear me,
Arthur, leave me now! I can hear no more to-night."
"On condition thou wilt see me in private once again. Marie, thou
darest not refuse me this! Thou canst not have so fallen as to give no
reason for this most foul wrong--fancied weak, futile as it may be. We
part now, but we meet again!" And with a strong effort at control he
strode hastily from her.
The moon at that moment breaking from thick clouds, darted her full
light upon the pool, till it shone like an illuminated mirror amidst
the surrounding darkness; and though Arthur had disappeared, its clear
surface distinctly reflected the outline of another closely shrouded
figure. Marie turned in terror, and beheld, gleaming with the triumph
of a fiend, the hated countenance of Don Luis Garcia. One look told
her that he Lad seen all, heard all; but she had no power to speak or
move. Keeping his basilisk gaze fixed on her, he withdrew backwards
into the deep shade till he had entirely disappeared.
Summoning all her energy, Marie fled back towards the house, and at
the moment she reached it, Don Ferdinand crossed the deserted hall.
"Marie, dearest, here and alone? Pale, too, and trembling! In heaven's
name, what hath chanced?"
A moment more, and she would have flung herself at his feet and told
him all--all, and beseeching his forgiveness, conjure him to shield
her from Arthur, from herself; but as she looked up in his face,
and met its beaming animation, its manly reflection of the pure
gratification that evening had bestowed, how could she, how dared she
be the one to dash it with woe? And, overpowered with this fearful
contention of feeling, she threw her arms around him as he bent
tenderly over her, and burying her head in his bosom, burst into
tears.
"Thou art exhausted, mine own love! It has been too exciting, too
wearying a scene for thee. Why, what a poor, weak girl thou art! How
fortunate for thee that thy Queen demands not thy constant attendance,
and that thy husband is not ambitious to behold thee shining in the
court, as thy grace and beauty might! I am too glad to feel thee all,
all my own. Smile on me, love, and then to thy couch. A few hours'
quiet rest, and thou wilt be thyself again." And he bore her himself
with caressing gentleness to her apartment.