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.




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