France -- History -- Francis I, 1515-1547 -- Fiction
This last prayer was most artful, in very truth; for if she to whom it
was addressed should chance to raise her eyes to the suppliant's face,
she would see the most adorable youthful head that she had ever seen in
dreams, while reading the eleven mythological tales which were so
fashionable at the time, by virtue of the charming couplets of Master
Clement Marot, and which told of the loves of Psyche and the death of
Narcissus. Indeed, beneath his simple sober-hued costume, the youth whom
we have introduced to our readers was remarkably handsome, and wore an
air of unmistakable refinement: moreover, his smile was infinitely sweet
and attractive, and his glance, which dared not yet be bold, was as
ardent and impassioned as ever flashed from the great speaking eyes of
eighteen years.
Meanwhile, upon hearing the movement of many chairs announcing the end
of the service, our lover,--for the reader will have discovered from the
few words he has uttered that he is entitled to be so described,--our
lover, I say, drew aside a little, and watched the congregation pass
silently forth,--a congregation composed of staid church-wardens,
respectable matrons past their giddy days, and prepossessing damsels.
But for none of these had the youth come thither, for his glance did not
brighten, nor did he step impulsively forward, until he saw approach a
maiden dressed in white, and attended by a duenna,--a duenna of high
station, be it understood,--who seemed accustomed to the ways of
society, a duenna not unyouthful nor unattractive, and by no means
savage in appearance. When the two ladies approached the basin of holy
water, our youth took some of the liquid and gallantly offered it to
them.
The duenna bestowed the most gracious of smiles and most grateful of
courtesies upon him, and even touched his fingers as she took the cup,
which, to his great chagrin, she herself handed to her companion; but
the latter, notwithstanding the fervent prayer whereof she had been the
object a few moments before, kept her eyes constantly upon the
ground,--a sure proof that she knew the comely youth was there,--so that
the comely youth, when she had passed, stamped upon the flags,
muttering, "Alas! again she did not see me." An equally sure proof that
the comely youth was, as we have said, no more than eighteen years old.
But after the first burst of vexation, our unknown hastened down the
steps of the church, and, seeing that the absent-minded beauty, having
lowered her veil and taken her attendant's arm, had turned to the right,
hastened to take the same direction, observing that his own home chanced
to lie that way. The maiden followed the quay as far as Pont
Saint-Michel, and crossed Pont Saint-Michel; still it was our hero's
road. She next passed through Rue de la Barillerie, and crossed Pont au
Change; and as she was still pursuing our hero's road, our hero followed
her like her shadow.
Every pretty girl's shadow is a lover.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account