The Styx had fast bound her

Nine times around her.

POPE, ODE ON ST.CECILIA'S DAY

Early on Monday morning came a message to Mademoiselle Nid de Merle

that she was to prepare to act the part of a nymph of Paradise in

the King's masque on Wednesday night, and must dress at once to

rehearse her part in the ballet specially designed by Monsieur.

Her first impulse was to hurry to her own Queen, whom she entreated

to find some mode of exempting her. But Elisabeth, who was still

in bed, looked distressed and frightened, made signs of caution,

and when the weeping girl was on the point of telling her of the

project that would thus be ruined, silenced her by saying, 'Hush!

my poor child, I have but meddled too much already. Our Lady grant

that I have not done you more harm than good! Tell me no more.'

'Ah! Madame, I will be discreet, I will tell you nothing; but if

you would only interfere to spare me from this ballet! It is

Monsieur's contrivance! Ah! Madame, could you but speak to the

King!'

'Impossible, child,' said the Queen. 'Things are not her as they

were at happy Montpipeau.'

And the poor young Queen turned her face in to her pillow, and

wept.

Every one who was not in a dream of bliss like poor little Eustacie

knew that the King had been in so savage a mood ever since his

return that no one durst ask anything from him.

A little while since, he had laughed at his gentle wife for letting herself, and

Emperor's daughter, be trampled on where his brother Francis's

Queen, from her trumpery, beggarly realm, had held up her head, and

put down la belle Mere; he had amused himself with Elisabeth's

pretty little patronage of the young Ribaumonts as a promising

commencement in intriguing like other people; but now he was

absolutely violent at any endeavour to make him withstand his

mother, and had driven his wife back into that cold, listless,

indifferent shell of apathy from which affection and hope had begun

to rouse her.

She knew it would only make it the worse for her

little Nid de Merle for her to interpose when Monsieur had made the

choice.

And Eustacie was more afraid of Monsieur than even of Narcisse, and

her Berenger could not be there to protect her. However, there was

protection in numbers. With twelve nymphs, and cavaliers to match,

even the Duke of Anjou could not accomplish the being very

insulting. Eustacie--light, agile, and fairy-like--gained

considerable credit for ready comprehension and graceful

evolutions. She had never been so much complimented before, and

was much cheered by praise. Diane showed herself highly pleased

with her little cousin's success, embraced her, and told her she

was finding her true level at court. She would be the prettiest of

all the nymphs, who were all small, since fairies rather than

Amazons were wanted in their position. 'And, Eustacie,' she added,

'you should wear the pearls.'

'The pearls!' said Eustacie. 'Ah! but HE always wears them. I

like to see them on his bonnet--they are hardly whiter than his

forehead.'

'Foolish little thing!' said Diane, 'I shall think little of his

love if he cares to see himself in them more than you.'

The shaft seemed carelessly shot, but Diane knew that it would

work, and so it did. Eustacie wanted to prove her husband's love,

not to herself, but to her cousin.

He made his way to her in the gardens of the Louvre that evening,

greatly dismayed at the report that had reached him that she was to

figure as a nymph of Elysium. She would thus be in sight as a

prominent figure the whole evening, even till an hour so late that

the market boat which Osbert had arranged for their escape could

not wait for them without exciting suspicion, and besides, his

delicate English feelings were revolted at the notion of her

forming a part of such a spectacle. She could not understand his

displeasure. If they could not go on Wednesday, they could go on

Saturday; and as to her acting, half the noblest ladies in the

court would be in piece, and if English husbands did not like it,

they must be the tyrants she had always heard of.

'To be a gazing-stock---' began Berenger.

'Hush! Monsieur, I will hear no more, or I shall take care how I

put myself in your power.'

'That has been done for you, sweetheart,' he said, smiling with

perhaps a shade too much superiority; 'you are mine entirely now.'

'that is not kind,' she pouted, almost crying--for between

flattery, excitement, and disappointment she was not like herself

that day, and she was too proud to like to be reminded that she was

in any one's power.

'I thought,' said Berenger, with the gentleness that always made

him manly in dealing with her, 'I thought you like to own yourself

mine.'

'Yes, sir, when you are good, and do not try to hector me for what

I cannot avoid.'

Berenger was candid enough to recollect that royal commands did not

brook disobedience, and, being thoroughly enamoured besides of his

little wife, he hastened to make his peace by saying, 'True, ma

mie, this cannot be helped. I was a wretch to find fault. Think

of it no more.'

'You forgive me?' she said, softened instantly.

'Forgive you? What for, pretty one? For my forgetting that you

are still a slave to a hateful Court?'

'Ah! then, if you forgive me, let me wear the pearls.'

'The poor pearls,' said Berenger, taken aback for a moment, 'the

meed of our forefather's valour, to form part of the pageant and

mummery? But never mind, sweetheart,' for he could not bear to vex

her again: 'you shall have them to-night: only take care of them.

My mother would look back on me if she knew I had let them out of

my care, but you and I are one after all.'

Berenger could not bear to leave his wife near the Duke of Anjou

and Narcisse, and he offered himself to the King as an actor in the

masque, much as he detested all he heard of its subject. The King

nodded comprehension, and told him it was open to him either to be

a demon in a tight suit of black cloth, with cloven-hoof shoes, a

long tail, and a trident; or one of the Huguenots who were to be

repulsed from Paradise for the edification of the spectators. As

these last were to wear suits of knightly armour, Berenger much

preferred making one of them in spite of their doom.

The masque was given at the hall of the Hotel de Bourbon, where a

noble gallery accommodated the audience, and left full space

beneath for the actors. Down the centre of the stage flowed a

stream, broad enough to contain a boat, which was plied by the Abbe

de Mericour--transformed by a gray beard and hair and dismal mask

into Charon.

But so unused to navigation was he, so crazy and ill-trimmed his

craft, that his first performance would have been his submersion in

the Styx had not Berenger, better accustomed to boats than any of

the dramatis personoe, caught him by the arms as he was about to

step in, pointed out the perils, weighted the frail vessel, and

given him a lesson in paddling it to and fro, with such a masterly

hand, that, had there been time for a change of dress, the part of

Charon would have been unanimously transferred to him; but the

delay could not be suffered, and poor Mericour, in fear of a

ducking, or worse, of ridicule, balanced himself, pole in hand, in

the midst of the river. To the right of the river was Elysium--a

circular island revolving on a wheel which was an absolute orrery,

representing in concentric circles the skies, with the sun, moon,

the seven planets, twelve signs, and the fixed stars, all

illuminated with small lamps. The island itself was covered with

verdure, in which, among bowers woven of gay flowers, reposed

twelve nymphs of Paradise, of whom Eustacie was one.

On the other side of the stream was another wheel, whose grisly

emblems were reminders of Dante's infernal circles, and were

lighted by lurid flames, while little bells were hung round so as

to make a harsh jangling sound, and all of the court who had any

turn for buffoonery were leaping and dancing about as demons

beneath it, and uttering wild shouts.

King Charles and his two brothers stood on the margin of the

Elysian lake. King Henry, the Prince of Conde, and a selection of

the younger and gayer Huguenots, were the assailants,--storming

Paradise to gain possession of the nymphs. It was a very illusive

armour that they wore, thin scales of gold or silver as cuirasses

over their satin doublets, and the swords and lances of festive

combat in that court had been of the bluntest foil ever since the

father of these princes had died beneath Montgomery's spear. And

when the King and his brothers, one of them a puny crooked boy,

were the champions, the battle must needs be the merest show,

though there were lookers-on who thought that, judging by

appearances, the assailants ought to have the best chance of

victory, both literal and allegorical.

However, these three guardian angels had choice allies in the shape

of the infernal company, who, as fast as the Huguenots crossed

swords or shivered lances with their royal opponents, encircled

them with their long black arms, and dragged them struggling away

to Tartarus. Henry of Navarre yielded himself with a good-will to

the horse-play with which this was performed, resisting just enough

to give his demoniacal captors a good deal of trouble, while

yielding all the time, and taking them by surprise by agile

efforts, that showed that if he were excluded from Paradise it was

only by his own consent, and that he heartily enjoyed the

merriment. Most of his comrades, in especial the young Count de

Rochefoucauld, entered into the sport with the same heartiness, but

the Prince of Conde submitted to his fate with a gloomy, disgusted

countenance, that added much to the general mirth; and Berenger,

with Eustacie before his eyes, looking pale, distressed, and ill at

ease, was a great deal too much in earnest. He had so veritable an

impulse to leap forward and snatch her from that giddy revolving

prison, that he struck against the sword of Monsieur with a hearty

good-will. His silvered lath snapped in his hand, and at that

moment he was seized round the waist, and, when his furious

struggle was felt to be in earnest, he was pulled over on his back,

while yells and shouts of discordant laughter rang round him, as

demons pinioned him hand and foot.

He thought he heard a faint cry from Eustacie, and, with a sudden,

unexpected struggle, started into a sitting posture; but a derisive

voice, that well he knew, cried, 'Ha, the deadly sin of pride!

Monsieur thinks his painted face pleases the ladies. To the depths

with him--' and therewith one imp pulled him backwards again, while

others danced a war-dance round him, pointing their forks at him;

and the prime tormentor, whom he perfectly recognized, not only

leapt over him, but spurned at his face with a cloven foot, giving

a blow, not of gay French malice, but of malignity. It was too much

for the boy's forbearance. He struggled free, dashing his

adversaries aside fiercely, and as they again gathered about him,

with the leader shouting, 'Rage, too, rage! To the prey, imps--'

he clenched his fist, and dealt the foremost foe such a blow in the

chest as to level him at once with the ground.

'Monsieur forgets,' said a voice, friendly yet reproachful, 'that

this is but sport.

It was Henry of Navarre himself who spoke, and bent to give a hand

to the fallen imp. A flush of shame rushed over Berenger's face,

already red with passion. He felt that he had done wrong to use

his strength at such a moment, and that, though there had been

spite in is assailant, he had not been therefore justified. He was

glad to see Narcisse rise lightly to his feet, evidently unhurt,

and, with the frankness with which he had often made it up with

Philip Thistlewood or his other English comrades after a sharp

tussle, he held out his hand, saying, 'Good demon, your pardon.

You roused my spirit, and I forgot myself.'

'Demons forget not,' was the reply. 'At him, imps!' And a whole

circle of hobgoblins closed upon with their tridents, forks, and

other horrible implements, to drive him back within two tall barred

gates, which, illuminated by red flames, were to form the ghastly

prison of the vanquished. Perhaps fresh indignities would have

been attempted, had not the King of Navarre thrown himself on his

side, shared with him the brunt of all the grotesque weapons, and

battled them off with infinite spirit and address, shielding him as

it were from their rude insults by his own dexterity and

inviolability, though retreating all the time till the infernal

gates were closed on both.

Then Henry of Navarre, who never forgot a face, held out his hand,

saying, 'Tartarus is no region of good omen for friendships, M. de

Ribaumont, but, for lack of yonder devil's claw, here is mine. I

like to meet a comrade who can strike a hearty blow, and ask a

hearty pardon.'

'I was too hot, Sire,' confessed Berenger, with one of his

ingenuous blushes, 'but he enraged me.'

'He means mischief.' said Henry. 'Remember, if you are molested

respecting this matter, that you have here a witness that you did

the part of a gentleman.'

Berenger bowed his thanks, and began something about the honour,

but his eye anxiously followed the circuit on which Eustacie was

carried and the glance was quickly remarked.

'How? Your heart is spinning in that Mahometan paradise, and that

is what put such force into your fists. Which of the houris is it?

The little one with the wistful eyes, who looked so deadly white,

and shrieked out when the devilry overturned you? Eh! Monsieur,

you are a happy man.'

'I should be, Sire;' and Berenger was on the point of confiding the

situation of his affairs to this most engaging of princes, when a

fresh supply of prisoners, chased with wild antics and fiendish

yells by the devils, came headlong in on them; and immediately,

completing, as Henry said, the galimatias of mythology, a

pasteboard cloud was propelled on the stage, and disclosed the

deities Mercury and Cupid, who made a complimentary address to the

three princely brothers, inciting them to claim the nymphs whom

their valour had defended, and lead them through the mazes of a

choric celestial dance.

This dance had been the special device of Monsieur and the ballet-

master, and during the last three days the houris had been almost

danced off their legs with rehearsing it morning, noon, and night,

but one at least of them was scarcely in a condition for its

performance. Eustacie, dizzied at the first minute by the whirl of

her Elysian merry-go-round, had immediately after become conscious

of that which she had been too childish to estimate merely in

prospect, the exposure to universal gaze. Strange staring eyes,

glaring lights, frightful imps seemed to wheel round her in an

intolerable delirious succession. Her only refuge was in closing

her eyes, but even this could not long be persevered in, so

necessary a part of the pageant was she; and besides, she had

Berenger to look for, Berenger, whom she had foolishly laughed at

for knowing how dreadful it would be. But of course the endeavour

to seek for one object with her eyes made the dizziness even more

dreadful; and when, at length, she beheld him dragged down by the

demoniacal creatures, whose horrors were magnified by her confused

senses, and the next moment she was twirled out of sight, her cry

of distracted alarm was irrepressible. Carried round again and

again, on a wheel that to her was far more like Ixion's than that

of the spheres, she never cleared her perceptions as to where he

was, and only was half-maddened by the fantastic whirl of

incongruous imagery, while she barely sat out Mercury's lengthy

harangue; and when her wheel stood still, and she was released, she

could not stand, and was indebted to Charon and one of her fellow-

nymphs for supporting her to a chair in the back of the scene.

Kind Charon hurried to bring her wine, the lady revived her with

essences, and the ballet-master clamoured for his performers.

Ill or well, royal ballets must be danced. One long sob, one gaze

round at the refreshing sight of a room no longer in motion, one

wistful look at the gates of Tartarus, and the misery of the

throbbing, aching head must be disregarded. The ballet-master

touched the white cheeks with rouge, and she stepped forward just

in time, for Monsieur himself was coming angrily forward to learn

the cause of the delay.

Spectators said the windings of that dance were exquisitely

graceful. It was well that Eustacie's drilling had been so

complete, for she moved through it blindly, senselessly, and when

it was over was led back between the two Demoiselles de Limeuil to

the apartment that served as a green-room, drooping and almost

fainting. They seated her in a chair, and consulted round her, and

her cousin Narcisse was among the first to approach; but no sooner

had she caught sight of his devilish trim than with a little shriek

she shut her eyes, and flung herself to the other side of the

chair.

'My fair cousin,' he said, opening his black vizard, 'do you not

see me? I am no demon, remember! I am your cousin.'

'That makes it no better,' said Eustacie, too much disordered and

confused to be on her guard, and hiding her face with her hands.

'Go, go, I entreat.'

In fact he had already done this, and the ladies added their

counsel; for indeed the poor child could scarcely hold up her head,

but she said, 'I should like to stay, if I could: a little, a

little longer. Will they not open those dreadful bars?' she added,

presently.

'They are even now opening them,' said Mdlle. de Limeuil. 'Hark!

they are going to fight en melle. Mdlle. de Nid de Merle is

better now?'

'Oh yes; let not detain you.'

Eustacie would have risen, but the two sisters had fluttered back,

impatient to lose nothing of the sports; and her cousin in his grim

disguise stood full before her. 'No haste, cousin,' he said; 'you

are not fit to move.'

'Oh, then go,' said Eustacie, suffering too much not to be

petulant. 'You make me worse.'

'And why? It was not always thus,' began Narcisse, so eager to

seize an opportunity as to have little consideration for her

condition; but she was unable to bear any more, and broke out:

'Yes, it was; I always detested you more than ever, since you

deceived me so cruelly. Oh, do but leave me!'

'You scorn me, then! You prefer to me--who have loved you so long-

-that childish new-comer, who was ready enough to cast you off.'

'Prefer! He is my husband! It is an insult for any one else to

speak to me thus!' said Eustacie, drawing herself up, and rising to

her feet; but she was forced to hold by the back of her chair, and

Diane and her father appearing at that moment, she tottered towards

the former, and becoming quite passive under the influence of

violent dizziness and headache, made no objection to being half

led, half carried, through galleries that connected the Hotel de

Bourbon with the Louvre.

And thus it was that when Berenger had fought out his part in the

melle of the prisoners released, and had maintained the honours

of the rose-coloured token in his helmet, he found that his lady-

love had been obliged by indisposition to return home; and while he

stood, folding his arms to restrain their strong inclination to

take Narcisse by the throat and demand whether this were another of

his deceptions, a train of fireworks suddenly exploded in the

middle of the Styx--a last surprise, especially contrived by King

Charles, and so effectual that half the ladies were shrieking, and

imagining that they and the whole hall had blown up together.

A long supper, full of revelry, succeeded, and at length Sidney ad

Ribaumont walked home together in the midst of their armed servants

bearing torches. All the way home Berenger was bitter in

vituperation of the hateful pageant and all its details.

'Yea, truly,' replied Sidney; 'methought that it betokens disease

in the mind of a nation when their festive revelry is thus ghastly,

rendering the most awful secrets made known by our God in order to

warm man from sin into a mere antic laughing-stock. Laughter

should be moved by what is fair and laughter-worthy--even like such

sports as our own "Midsummer Night's Dream." I have read that the

bloody temper of Rome fed itself in gladiator shows, and verily,

what we beheld to-night betokens something at once grisly and

light-minded in the mood of this country.'

Sidney thought so the more when on the second ensuing morning the

Admiral de Coligny was shot through both hands by an assassin

generally known to have been posted by the Duke of Guise, yet often

called by the sinister sobriquet of Le Tueur de Roi.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024