Part 11 (1/2)
”Oh, madam, bear with me; I know not what I say. Think I am mad; but oh, in mercy, ask me no question. Am I not mad, to ask thee to spare--spare--him they call my husband's murderer? Let him die,” and the wild tone returned, ”if he indeed could strike the blow; but oh, let not my lips p.r.o.nounce his death-doom! Gracious Sovereign, do not look upon me thus--I cannot bear that gaze.”
”Fear me not, poor sufferer,” replied Isabella, mildly; ”I will ask no question--demand nought that will give thee pain to answer--save that which justice compels me to require. That there is a double cause for all this wretchedness, I cannot but perceive, and that I suspect its cause I may not deny; but guilty I will not believe thee, till thine own words or deeds proclaim it. Look up then, my poor child, unshrinkingly; I am no dread Sovereign to thee, painful as is the trial to which I fear I must subject thee. There are charges brought against young Stanley so startling in their nature, that, much as we distrust his accuser, justice forbids our pa.s.sing them unnoticed. On thy true testimony his Grace the King relies to confirm or refute them. Thy evidence must convict or save him.”
”My evidence!” repeated Marie. ”What can they ask of me of such weight? Save him.” she added, a sudden gleam of hope irradiating her pallid face, like a sunbeam upon snow? ”Did your Grace say _I_ could save him? Oh, speak, in mercy!”
”Calm this emotion then, Marie, and thou shalt know all. It was for this I called thee hither. Sit thee on the settle at my feet, and listen to me patiently, if thou canst. 'Tis a harsh word to use to grief such as thine, my child,” she added, caressingly, as she laid her hand on Marie's drooping head; ”and I fear will only nerve thee for a still harsher trial. Believe me, I would have spared thee if I could; but all I can do is to bid thee choose the lesser of the two evils. Mark me well: for the Sovereign of the murdered, the judge of the murderer, alike speak through me.” And clearly and forcibly she narrated all, with which our readers are already acquainted, through her interview with the King. She spoke very slowly, as if to give Marie time to weigh well each sentence. She could not see her countenance; nay, she purposely refrained from looking at her, lest she should increase the suffering she was so unwillingly inflicting.
For some minutes she paused as she concluded; then, as neither word nor sound escaped from Marie, she said, with emphatic earnestness--”If it will be a lesser trial to give thine evidence on oath to thy Queen alone, we are here to receive it. Our royal husband--our loyal subjects--will be satisfied with Isabella's report. Thy words will be as sacred--thy oath as valid--as if thy testimony were received in public, thy oath administered by one of the holy fathers, with all the dread formula of the church. We have repeated all to which thy answers will be demanded; it remains for thee to decide whether thou wilt speak before his Grace the King and his a.s.sembled junta, or here and now before thy native Sovereign. Pause ere thou dost answer--there is time enough.”
For a brief interval there was silence. The kind heart of the Queen throbbed painfully, so completely had her sympathy identified her with the beautiful being, who had so irresistibly claimed her cheris.h.i.+ng love. But ere she had had time to satisfy herself as to the issue of the struggle so silently, yet so fearfully at work in her companion, Marie had arisen, and with dignity and fearlessness, strangely at variance with the wild agony of her words and manner before, stood erect before her Sovereign; and when she spoke, her voice was calm and firm.
”Queen of Spain!” she said. ”My kind, gracious Sovereign! Would that words could speak one-half the love, the devotion, all thy goodness has inspired; but they seem frozen, all frozen now, and it may be that I may never even prove them--that it will be my desolate fate, to seem less and less worthy of an affection I value more than life. Royal madam! I will appear at to-morrow's trial! Your Grace is startled; deeming it a resolve as strange as contradictory. Ask not the wherefore, gracious Sovereign: it is fixed unalterably. I will obey his Grace's summons. Its unexpected suddenness startled me at first; but it is over. Oh, madam,” she continued--tone, look, and manner becoming again those of the agitated suppliant, and she sunk once more at Isabella's feet: ”In my wild agony I have forgotten the respect and deference due from a subject to her Sovereign; I have poured forth my misery, seemingly as regardless of kindness, as insensible to the wide distance between us. Oh, forgive me, my gracious Sovereign; and in token of thy pardon, grant me but one boon!”
”Nought have I to forgive, my suffering child,” replied the Queen, powerfully affected, and pa.s.sing her arm caressingly round her kneeling favorite; ”what is rank--sovereignty itself--in hours of sorrow? If I were so tenacious of dignity as thou fearest, I should have shrunk from that awful presence--affliction from a Father's hand--in which his children are all equals, Marie. And as for thy boon: be it what it may, I grant it.”
”Thou sayest so now, my liege; but when the hour to grant it comes, every feeling will revolt against it; even thine, my Sovereign, kind, generous, as thou art. Oh, Madam, thou wilt hear a strange tale to-morrow--one so fraught with mystery and marvel, thou wilt refuse to believe; but when the trial of to-morrow is past, then think on what I say now: what thou nearest will be TRUE--true as there is a heaven above us; I swear it! Do not look upon me thus, my Sovereign; I am not mad--oh, would that I were! Dark, meaningless as my words seem now, to-morrow they will be distinct and clear enough. And then--then, if thou hast ever loved me, oh, grant the boon I implore thee now: whatever thou mayest hear, do not condemn me--do not cast me wholly from thee. More than ever shall I need thy protecting care. Oh, my Sovereign--thou who hast taught me so to love thee, in pity love me still!”
”Strange wayward being,” said Isabella, gazing doubtingly on the imploring face upturned to hers; ”towards other than thyself such mystery would banish love for ever; but I will not doubt thee. Darkly as thou speakest, still I grant the boon. What can I hear of thee, to cast thee from me?”
”Thou wilt hear of deceit, my liege,” replied Marie, very slowly, and her eyes fell beneath the Queen's gaze; ”thou wilt hear of long years of deceit and fraud, and many--many tongues will speak their scorn and condemnation. Then wilt thou grant it--then?”
”Even then,” replied Isabella fearlessly; ”an thou speakest truth at last, deceit itself I will forgive. But thou art overwrought and anxious, and so layest more stress on some trivial fault than even I would demand. Go to thy own chamber now, and in prayer and meditation gain strength for to-morrow's trial. Whatever I may hear, so it be not meditated and unrepented guilt, (which I know it cannot be,) I will forgive, and love thee still. The holy saints bless and keep thee, my fair child!”
And as Marie bent to salute the kind hand extended to her, Isabella drew her towards her, and fondly kissed her cheek. The unexpected caress, or some other secret feeling, subdued the overwrought energy at once; and for the first time since her husband's death, Marie burst into natural tears. But her purpose changed not; though Isabella's gentle and affectionate soothing rendered it tenfold more painful to accomplish.
CHAPTER XVIII.
LEONTES.--These sessions, to our great grief, we p.r.o.nounce Even pushes 'gainst our heart.
Let us be cleared Of being tyrannous, since we openly Proceed in justice--which shall have due course, Even to the guilt, or the purgation.
Produce the prisoner!--SHAKSPEARE.
The day of trial dawned, bright, sunny, cloudless, as was usual in beautiful Spain--a joyous elasticity was in the atmosphere, a brilliance in the heavens, which thence reflected on the earth, so painfully contrasted with misery and death, that the bright sky seemed to strike a double chill on the hearts of those most deeply interested.
Never had the solemn proceedings of justice created so great an excitement; not only in Segovia itself, but the towns and villages, many miles round, sent eager citizens and rustic countrymen to learn the issue, and report it speedily to those compelled to stay at home.
The universal mourning for Morales was one cause of the popular excitement; and the supposition of the young foreigner being his murderer another.
The hall of the castle was crowded at a very early hour, Isabella having signified not only permission, but her wish that as many of her citizen subjects as s.p.a.ce would admit should be present, to witness the faithful course of justice. Nearest to the seat destined for the King, at the upper end of the hall, were ranged several fathers from an adjoining convent of Franciscans, by whom a special service had been impressively performed that morning in the cathedral, in which all who had been summoned to preside at the trial had solemnly joined.
The Monks of St. Francis were celebrated alike for their sterling piety, great learning, and general benevolence. Their fault, if such it could be termed in a holy Catholic community, was their rigid exclusiveness regarding religion; their uncompromising and strict love for, and adherence to, their own creed; and stern abhorrence towards, and violent persecution of, all who in the slightest degree departed from it, or failed to pay it the respect and obedience which they believed it demanded. At their head was their Sub-Prior, a character whose influence on the after position of Spain was so great, that we may not pa.s.s it by, without more notice than our tale itself perhaps would demand. To the world, as to his brethren and superiors, in the monastery, a stern unbending spirit, a rigid austerity, and unchanging severity of mental and physical discipline, characterized his whole bearing and daily conduct. Yet, his severity proceeded not from the superst.i.tion and bigotry of a weak mind or misanthropic feeling.
Though his whole time and thoughts appeared devoted to the interest of his monastery, and thence to relieving and guiding the poor, and curbing and decreasing the intemperate follies and licentious conduct of the laymen, in its immediate neighborhood; yet his extraordinary knowledge, not merely of human nature, but of the world at large--his profound and extensive genius, which, in after years was displayed, in the prosecution of such vast schemes for Spain's advancement, that they riveted the attention of all Europe upon him--naturally won him the respect and consideration of Ferdinand and Isabella, whose acute penetration easily traced the natural man, even through the thick veil of monkish austerity. They cherished and honored him, little thinking that, had it not been for him, Spain would have sunk at their death, into the same abyss of anarchy and misery, from which their vigorous measures had so lately roused, and, as they hoped, So effectually guarded her.
When Torquemada, Isabella's confessor, was absent from court, which not unfrequently happened, for his capacious mind was never at peace unless actively employed--Father Francis, though but the Sub-Prior of a Franciscan monastery, always took his place, and frequently were both sovereigns guided by his privately asked and frankly given opinions, not only on secular affairs, but on matters of state, and even of war. With such a character for his Sub-Prior, the lordly Abbot of the Franciscans was indeed but a nominal dignitary, quite contented to enjoy all the indulgences and corporeal luxuries, permitted, or perhaps winked at, from his superior rank, and leaving to Father Francis every active duty; gladly, therefore, he deputed on him the office of heading the Monks that day summoned to attend King Ferdinand.
Not any sign of the benevolence and goodness--in reality the characteristics of this extraordinary man--was visible on his countenance as he sat. The very boldest and haughtiest of the aristocracy, involuntarily perhaps, yet irresistibly, acknowledged his superiority. Reverence and awe were the emotions first excited towards his person: but already was that reverence largely mingled with the love which some three years afterwards gave him such powerful influence over the whole sovereignty of Spain. Next to the holy fathers, and ranged according to rank and seniority, were the n.o.bles who had been selected to attend, the greater number of whom, were Castilians, as countrymen of the deceased. Next to them were the Santa Hermandad, or Brethren of the a.s.sociated Cities, without whose presence and aid, no forms of justice, even though ruled and guided by royalty itself, were considered valid or complete. A semicircle was thus formed, the centre of which was the King's seat; and opposite to him, in the hollow, as it were of the crescent, a s.p.a.ce left for the prisoner, accusers, and witnesses. Soldiers lined the hall; a treble guard being drawn up at the base of the semicircle, and extending in a wide line right and left, behind the spot destined for the prisoner.
There was still a large s.p.a.ce left, and this was so thronged with citizens, that it presented the appearance of a dense ma.s.s of human heads, every face turned in one direction, and expressive in various ways of but one excitement, one emotion.