Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No IV, April 1863: Devoted to Literature and National PolicyVarious
General
Continental Monthly, Vol. III, No IV, April 1863: Devoted to Literature and National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
'He went away,' added my companion, with a tone of despair I can never
forget, 'and this is the last day of my life.' He then walked to the
glazed door looking out on the park (it was open), and he exclaimed:
'Oh God! I shall see no more this beautiful sky, these green lawns,
these sparkling waters; I shall never again breathe the balmy air of the
spring! Madman that I was! I might have enjoyed for twenty-five years to
come these blessings God has showered on all, blessings whose worth I
knew not, and of which I am beginning to know the value. I have worn out
my days, I have sacrificed my life for a vain chimera, for a sterile
glory, which has not made me happy, and which died before me.... See!
see there!' said he, pointing to some peasants plodding their weary way
homeward; 'what would I not give to share their labors and their
poverty!... But I have nothing to give, nothing to hope here below ...
nothing ... not even misfortune!'... At this moment a sunbeam, a May
sunbeam, lighted up his pale, haggard features; he took me by the arm
with a sort of delirium, and said to me:
'See! oh see! how splendid is the sun!... Oh! and I must leave all
this!... Oh! at the least let me enjoy it now.... Let me taste to the
full this pure and beautiful day ... whose morrow I shall never see!'
He leaped into the park, and, before I could well comprehend what he was
doing, he had disappeared down an alley. But, to speak truly, I could
not have restrained him, even if I would.... I had not now the strength;
I fell back on the sofa, confounded, stunned, bewildered by all I had
seen and heard. At length I arose and walked about the room to convince
myself that I was awake, that I was not dreaming, that....
At this moment the door of the boudoir opened, and a servant announced:
'My master, Monsieur le Duc de C----.'
A gentleman some sixty years old and of a very aristocratic appearance
came forward, and, taking me by the hand, begged my pardon for having
kept me so long waiting.
'I was not at the chateau,' said he. 'I have just come from the town,
where I have been to consult with the physicians about the health of the
Count de C----, my younger brother.'
'Is he dangerously ill?'
'No, monsieur, thank Heaven, he is not; but in his youth visions of
glory and of ambition had excited his imagination, and a grave fever,
from which he has just recovered, and which came near proving fatal, has
left his head in a state of delirium and insanity, which persuades him
that he has only one day longer to live. That's his madness.'
Everything was explained to me now!
'Come, my young friend, now let us talk over your business; tell me what
I can do for your advancement. We will go together to Versailles about
the end of this month. I will present you at court.'
'I know how kind you are to me, duke, and I have come here to thank you
for it.'
'What! have you renounced going to court, and to the advantages you may
reckon on having there?'
'Yes.'
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