The Daughter of an Empress

At first, Natalie had listened to him with terror and astonishment; then

an expression of noble pride was to be read upon her features, a glowing

flush flitted over her delicate cheeks, and with flashing eyes and a

heaving bosom she sprang up from her seat. Proud as a queen she rose

erect, the blood of her ancestors awoke in her; she at this moment felt

herself free as an empress, as proud, as secure--and, stretching her

arm toward the outlet of the garden, she said in a determined tone:

"Go, Signor Carlo! Leave me, I tell you! We have no longer any thing in

common with each other!"

Carlo seemed as if awakened from a delirium. Breathless, with

widely-opened eyes, trembling and anxious, he stared at the angry

maiden. He knew nothing of what he had said; he comprehended not

her anger, only his infinite suffering; he was conscious only of his

long-suppressed, long-concealed secret love. And, grasping Natalie's

hands with an imploring expression, he constrained the young maiden,

almost against her will, to remain and reseat herself upon the grassy

bank before which he knelt.

As he looked up to her with those glowing, passionate glances, a maiden

fear and trembling for the first time came over her, an anxiety and

timidity inexplicable to herself! Her delicate, transparent cheeks

paled, tears filled her eyes, and, folding her hands with a childishly

supplicating expression, she said in a low, tremulous tone: "My God,

my God! Have mercy upon me! I am a wholly abandoned, solitary orphan!

Rescue me yet from this trouble and distress, from this terrible

loneliness!"

"Fear nothing, my charming angel," whispered Carlo, "I will be gentle as

a lamb, and patient, very patient in my sorrow; I have sworn it and will

keep my oath! But you must hear me! You must, only this one time, allow

me to express in words my love and my sorrow, my misery and my ecstasy.

Will you allow me this, my lily, my beautiful swan?"

He would have again grasped her hand, but she withdrew it with a proud,

angry glance.

"Speak on," said she, wearily leaning her hand against the myrtle-bush.

"Speak on, I will listen to you!"

And he spoke to her of his love; he informed her of his former life, his

poverty, his want, his connection with Corilla, whom he had quitted in

order to devote himself wholly to her, to obey, serve, and worship

her all his life, and, if necessary, to die for her! "But you," he

despairingly said, "you know not love! Your heart is cold for earthly

love; like the angels in heaven, you love only the good and the sublime,

you love mankind collectively, but not the individual. Ah, Natalie, you

have the heart of an angel, but not the heart of a woman!"