An account remains of the marriage ceremony, which took place the next
morning in Cardinal Origo's house. It was of the simplest kind and was
witnessed by few. Murray, Misset and his wife, and Maria Vittoria de
Caprara made the public part of the company; Wogan stood for the King;
and the Marquis of Monti Boulorois for James Sobieski, the bride's
father. Bride and bridegroom played their parts bravely and well, one
must believe, for the chronicler speaks of their grace and modesty of
bearing. Clementina rose at five in the morning, dressed in a robe of
white, tied a white ribbon about her hair, and for her only ornament
fixed a white collar of pearls about her neck. In this garb she went at
once to the church of San Domenico, where she made her confession, and
from the church to the Cardinal's Palace. There the Cardinal, with one
Maas, an English priest from Rome, at his elbow, was already waiting for
her. Mr. Wogan thereupon read the procuration, for which he had ridden
to Rome in haste so many months before, and pronounced the consent of
the King his master to its terms. Origo asked the Princess whether she
likewise consented, and the manner in which she spoke her one word,
"Yes," seems to have stirred the historian to pæans. It seems that all
the virtues launched that one little word, and were clearly expressed in
it. The graces, too, for once in a way went hand in hand with the
virtues. Never was a "Yes" so sweetly spoken since the earth rose out of
the sea. In a word, there was no ruffle of the great passion which these
two, man and woman, had trodden beneath their feet. She did not hint of
Iphigenia; he borrowed no plumes from Don Quixote. Nor need one fancy
that their contentment was all counterfeit. They were neither of them
grumblers, and "fate" and "destiny" were words seldom upon their lips.
One incident, indeed, is related which the chronicler thought to be
curious, though he did not comprehend it. The Princess Clementina
brought from her confessional box a wisp of straw which clung to her
dress at the knee. Until Wogan had placed the King's ring upon her
finger, she did not apparently remark it; but no sooner had that office
been performed than she stooped, and with a friendly smile at her
makeshift bridegroom, she plucked it from her skirt and let it fall
beneath her foot.
And that was all. No words passed between them after the ceremony, for
her Royal Highness went straight back to the little house in the garden,
and that same forenoon set out for Rome.