Volume I Part 6 (1/2)
She rushed out.
”This is a night of h.e.l.l!” groaned Francis, and dropt back, as if annihilated, into his seat.
It was about the same time of the year, that Althea was sitting in her chamber by the open window, through which played the gentle spring-breezes. Her little Henry drew about the room, on a wheeled platform, a stately knight, proudly mounted, in the full equipments of the tournay, Tausdorf's present to him from Nuremberg. With this he kept up an intolerable clatter, but his mother did not heed him. Before her stood the embroidery frame, in which she had stretched a scarf, but she did not work; and, lost in fairy visions, she listened to the humming of the bees that swarmed in the blossoms of an apple-tree before her window. Then on a sudden echoed the sweet song of the nightingale from the topmost branch, and Althea's bosom swelled in gentle heavings; her eyes became moist, she folded her hands, and with pious looks to heaven, exclaimed mournfully, ”Forgive me, Eternal Benevolence! if this feeling be a sin against the memory of my Henry.”
”Where now does Herr Tausdorf tarry?” interrupted the child. ”He promised to be here early to-day.”
”Was the speech of innocence an answer to my prayer?” whispered Althea; and, beckoning the child to her, she took him on her lap, caressed him with fervour, and softly asked him, ”Are you then fond of Herr Tausdorf, dear boy?”
”Yes, indeed, from my very heart,” replied the little one. ”He is always so kind to me, brings me pretty things, and has often let me ride upon his gray horse. I love him more than uncle Netz and all the other knights who visit you. He does not swear and curse so terribly as they do, nor drink such monstrous quant.i.ties of wine. I have never either seen him drunk, like uncle Netz, who often cuts a vile figure with the fiery face and gla.s.sy eyes. Then he is always so kind and sedate; and I do not know how he manages it, but when he bids or forbids me any thing, I cannot help obeying him, however great my inclination to be froward.”
”But you are fond of uncle Schindel?” said Althea, to conceal her delight in the child's answer.
”Oh yes! but then he is a little too old for me. I always think of him as of my grandfather: while Herr Tausdorf is still so handsome, and full of life and energy. It is so I fancy my father must have looked.
Oh, if Herr Tausdorf were my father! I would follow him at his nod, and love him--almost as much as yourself, dear mother.”
”Sweet boy!” cried Althea transported, and hid her burning forehead in the golden locks of the child.
Three slow, orderly raps were given at the door, but occupied with other matters, she paid no attention to them; at last in walked Christopher Friend, in splendid doublet and rich pantaloons of sky-blue velvet, slashed with green, and trussed with gold points, and a broad collar about his neck of real Brabant lace. With great courteousness and much dignity, he waved his richly feathered cap in salutation. The first glance, that Althea cast upon his crafty knavish face, extinguished every spark of joy in her breast, and with icy coldness she asked what was Master Friend's pleasure?
”n.o.ble lady, I have lived long enough in the dreary state of widowhood to know all its inconveniences, and to desire a change. I want a wife of good person, good birth, and gentle manners; and, considering the great wealth with which the Lord has blest me, I believe myself well worthy of such a one. Worthiest Althea, my choice has fallen upon you.
It has, indeed, cost me no little eloquence to wring from my father his consent to this match, of which he would not hear at first, on account of the violent quarrels between the n.o.bility and citizens and the mutual bitterness that has grown out of them. At last, however, I succeeded in bending his obstinacy, and chiefly through the faithful picture of your excellent virtues; and here I am, with his blessing, to woo solemnly for your fair hand.”
”I value your courts.h.i.+p as I ought,” replied Althea, hastily; ”but with my conviction that we are in no respect suited to each other, I answer with a candid _no_.”
”_No!_” repeated Christopher, dropping from the clouds. ”With such proposals, it is the custom, although the lady have a negative in her pocket, at least to ask time for consideration, from mere courtesy.
Your _no_, therefore, is almost too candid.”
”I could not prevail upon myself to let you believe in the possibility of our union, even for a moment.”
”I should think, though, that the petty estate which you hold at Bogendorf in your widow's right can be no reason for your rejecting so splendid an establishment thus scurvily.”
”Then you thought to buy me of my poverty?--Another sign how little we are suited to each other, for I have never regarded wealth.”
”That shows your fancy for the Bohemian ragam.u.f.fin!” retorted Christopher, whose wrath had burst every curb of manners. ”I always wished to persuade myself out of the idea of your caring for the vagabond, but now it is on the sudden clear to me that I am sacrificed for him.”
”Have the goodness yourself to repeat your aspersions to him,” cried Althea warmly; ”but this room you will quit instantly.”
”Why should we mutually incense each other without occasion?” said Christopher, quickly composed again, and courteous. ”You have rejected my love, which must, indeed, grieve me; but, at least, you cannot prevent me from wooing your friends.h.i.+p; and rest a.s.sured I will show you mine so thoroughly, that you shall yet one day rue your harshness.”
He bowed himself profoundly, and departed.
”That is an abominable man,” said the little Henry. ”Had you married him, I do believe I should have run away from you.”
”My horizon grows more and more cloudy,” sighed Althea. ”I fear there will be no staying for me much longer in the old Schweidnitz, for the hatred of these Friends is terrible, from their wealth and their enormous power.”
”Oh, if they ill-treat you,” cried the little one warmly, ”only call Tausdorf to your help, he'll soon send them about their business! And I too am a n.o.bleman: let me once be capable of bearing arms, and I'll maul this rabble of citizens that it shall do your heart good to see it.”