Joseph II. and His Court Part 14

"Pardon me, your highness," she whispered; "but--"

She stopped; for, to her great surprise, the princess was awake. She lay in her long white night-dress, with her hands crossed over her breast, and her head cushioned on the rose-colored pillow that contrasted painfully with the pallor of her marble-white face. Her large eyes were distended, and fixed upon a picture of the blessed Virgin that hung at the foot of the bed. Slowly her looks turned upon her attendants, who, breathless and frightened, gazed upon the rosy pillow, and the pallid face that lay in its midst, dazzling their eyes with its whiteness.

"Pardon me," again whispered the cameriera, "it is almost noonday."

"What hour?" murmured the princess.

"It is ten o'clock, your highness."

The princess shivered, and exclaimed, "For three days, then!" And turning away, she began to pray in a low voice, and none but G.o.d knew the meaning of that whispered prayer.

Her prayer over, she pa.s.sed her little white hand over the dark locks that fell around her face and made an effort to rise.

Her maids of honor saw that she was ill, and hastened to a.s.sist her. The hour of the princess's toilet was to her attendants the most delightful hour of the day. From her bedchamber all ceremonial was banished; and there, with her young companions, Isabella was accustomed to laugh, jest, sing, and be as merry and as free from care as the least of her father's subjects.

Philip of Parma was by birth a Spaniard, one of the sons of Philip the Fifth. After the vicissitudes of war which wrested Naples and Parma from the hands of Austria, Don Carlos of Spain became king of Naples, and Don Philip, duke of Parma. Isabella, then a child of seven years, had been allowed the privilege of taking with her to Italy her young playmates, who, for form's sake, as she grew older, became her maids of honor. But they were her dear and chosen friends, and with them she was accustomed to speak the Spanish language only.

Her mother, daughter of Louis XV., had introduced French customs into the court of Parma, and during her life the gayety and grace of French manners had rendered that court one of the most attractive in Europe.

But the lovely d.u.c.h.ess of Parma died, and with her died all that made court life endurable. The French language was forbidden, and French customs were banished. Some said that the duke had loved his wife so deeply, that in his grief he had excluded from his court every thing suggestive of his past happiness. Others contended that he had made her life so wretched by his jealous and tyrannical conduct, that remorse had driven him to banish, if possible, every reminder of the woman whom he had almost murdered.

In the hearts of her children the mother's memory was enshrined; and the brother and sister were accustomed for her sake, in their private intercourse, to speak HER language altogether.

At court they spoke the language of the country; and Isabella--who with her friends sang boleros and danced the cachuca; with her brother, read Racine and Corneille--was equally happy while she hung enraptured upon the strains of Pergolese's music, or gazed entranced upon the pictures of Correggio and the Veronese. The princess herself was both a painter and musician, and no one, more than she, loved Italy and Italian art.

Such, until this wretched morning, had been the life of young Isabella.

What was she now? A cold, white image, in whose staring eyes the light was quenched--from whose blanched lips the smile had fled forever!

Her grieved attendants could scarcely suppress their tears, as sadly and silently they arrayed her in her rich robes; while she, not seeming to know where she was, gazed at her own reflected image with a look of stupid horror. They dressed her beautiful hair, and bound it up in ma.s.sy braids. They smoothed it over her death-cold forehead, and shuddered to see how like a corpse she looked. At last the task was at an end, and the cameriera coming toward her, offered the cup of chocolate which she was accustomed to drink at that hour. Tenderly she besought the unhappy girl to partake of it, but Isabella waved away the cup, saying:

"Dear friend, offer me no earthly food. I pine for the banquet of angels. Let the chaplain be called to bring the viatic.u.m. I wish to receive the last sacraments of the dying."

A cry of horror burst from the lips of the maids of honor.

"The chaplain! The last sacraments! For you, my beloved child?" asked the sobbing cameriera.

"For me," replied Isabella.

"Heavenly Father!" exclaimed the aja. "Have you then presumed to antic.i.p.ate the will of G.o.d, and to go before His presence, uncalled?"

"No, no, death will come to me, I will not seek it. I will endure life as long as G.o.d wills, but, in three days, I shall be called hence."

The young girls crowded around her, weeping, and imploring her not to leave them.

Isabella's white lips parted with a strange smile. "You tell me not to die, dear friends; do you not see that I am already dead? My heart is bleeding."

The hand of the cameriera was laid upon her arm, and she whispered: "My child, be silent; you know not what you say."

Isabella bowed her head, and then looking tenderly around at her kneeling companions, she said: "Rise and sit by me, my dear girls, and listen to what I am about to say, for we speak together for the last time on earth. "

The maidens arose, and obeyed, while Isabella leaned her head for a few moments upon the bosom of her mother's friend, the cameriera. There was a pause, during which the poor girl seemed to have received some comfort in those friendly arms; for she finally sighed, and, raising her head again, she spoke solemnly, but not unnaturally.

"I had last night a singular vision," she said. "The spirit of my mother appeared to me, and said that in three days I was to die. I believe in this vision. Do not weep, dear sisters; I go to eternal rest. Life is bitter, death is sweet. Pray for me, that my mother's prophetic words be verified; and you, beloved friend of that mother," added she, kissing the cameriera's cheek, "you who know the depths of my heart, and its secret, silent agony, pray for your child, and praying, ask of her heavenly Father--death."

The aja made no reply, she was weeping with the others.

Isabella contemplated the group for a moment, while a ray of life lit up her eyes, showing that, even now, it was sad to part from her friends forever. But the expression was momentary. Her face returned to its deadly paleness, as gasping for breath, she stammered: "Now--now--for--my father! Estrella, go to the apartments of the duke, and say that I desire an interview with his royal highness."

The young girl returned in a few moments with an answer. His royal highness had that morning gone some distance in the country on a hunting excursion, and would be absent for several days.

Isabella looked at the cameriera, who still stood beside her, and her pale lips quivered. "Did I not know it?" whispered she; "I told you truly, HE did it! G.o.d forgive him, I cannot.--And now," continued she, aloud, "now to my last earthly affairs."

So saying, she called for her caskets of jewels and divided them between the young maids of honor; and cutting from her hair one rich, ma.s.sy lock, she placed it in Estrella's hand, saying, "Share it among you all."

To the cameriera she gave a sealed packet, and then bade them leave her to herself; for the ringing of the chapel bell announced the departure of the priest thence, with the blessed sacrament.

The sacred rites were ended. On her knees the Princess Isabella had made her confession, and had revealed to the shuddering priest the horrible secrets of the preceding night. She had received absolution, and had partaken of the holy communion.

"Now, my child," said the priest, in a voice tremulous with sympathy, "you have received the blessing of G.o.d, and you are prepared for His coming. May He be merciful to you, and grant your prayer for release from this earth! I, too, will pray that your martyrdom be short."

"Amen!" softly murmured Isabella.

"But the ways of the Lord are inscrutable, and it may be that He wills it otherwise. If, in His incomprehensible wisdom, He should declare that your days shall be long on this earth, promise me to endure your lot with resignation, nor seek to hasten what He has deemed it best to delay?"

"I promise, holy father."

"Make a vow, then, to the Lord, that by the memory of your mother you will fulfil every duty that presents itself to you in life, until G.o.d has spoken the word that will call you to Himself."

"I swear, by the memory of my mother, that I will live a life of resignation and of usefulness until G.o.d in His mercy, shall free me from my prison."

"Right, dear unhappy child," said the father, smoothing, with his trembling hands, the soft hair that lay on either side of her forehead.

"May G.o.d reward thee, and in His infinite mercy shorten thy sufferings!"

He stooped, and kissing her pale brow, made the sign of the cross above her kneeling figure. Then, with eyes blinded by tears, he slowly retreated to his own room, where he threw himself upon his knees and prayed that G.o.d would give strength to them both to bear the cross of that dreadful secret.

Isabella, too, remained alone. In feverish longing for death, she sat, neither hearing the voices of her friends who begged for admission, nor the pleadings of her brother, who besought her to see him and give him one last embrace. Through the long night that followed, still kneeling, she prayed. When the sun rose, she murmured, "To-morrow!" and through the day her fancy wandered to the verge of madness. Sometimes visions of beckoning angels swarmed around her; then they fled, and in their places stood a hideous skeleton, that, with ghastly smile, held out his fleshless hand, and strove to clasp hers.

Again the night set in, and the next morning at break of day, Isabella rose from her knees, and, hailing the rising sun, cried exultingly, "To-day!"

Exhausted from fasting and such long vigils, her head reeled, and she staggered to her couch. A cold shudder crept over her limbs; all was dark as night about her; she tried to clasp her hands in prayer and could not, for they were numb and powerless. "This is welcome death!"

thought she, and her lips parted with a happy smile. Her head fell backward on the pillow, and her senses fled.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE AMBa.s.sADOR EXTRAORDINARY.

The Princess Isabella opened her eyes, and in their dark and l.u.s.trous depths shone returning reason; they glared no more with fever-madness, but were sadder and sweeter than ever.