In _La Confiance du Marquis Fabrice_ light and shadow are very skilfully managed. We see the little princess Isora making her toilet in the early morning, when everything is fresh and bright. It is in the dawn that she loves to play. But the banquet of death takes place at night in a dimly lighted hall, when the lack of clear light adds to the horror of the scene. Note the Rembrandtesque effects in such phrases: 'aux tremblantes clartés,' 'l'ombre indistincte,' 'à travers l'ombre, on voit toutes les soifs infâmes,' and it ends in 'le triomphe de l'ombre,' a phrase in which the literal and the figurative are subtly blended together. On the other hand, how everything sparkles and gleams in _Le Mariage de Roland_! Olivier's sword-point glitters like the eye of a demon, while Durandal shines as he falls on his foeman's head; the sunshine is all round them in the day, and the night passes quickly; sparks fly from the weapons as they strike one another, and light up the very shadows with a dull flash. Take again _La Rose de l'Infante_. Everything round the little princess is bright: 'le profond jardin rayonnant et fleuri,' 'un grand palais comme au fond d'une gloire,' 'de clairs viviers,' 'des paons étoilés.' The very grass, too, seems to sparkle with diamonds and rubies. But Philip is a dark shadow, half hidden in mist: On voit d'en bas une ombre, au fond d'une vapeur, De fenêtre à fenêtre errer, et l'on a peur. He is always dressed in black: Toujours vêtu de noir, ce tout-puissant terrestre Avait l'air d'être en deuil de ce qu'il existait. No light is ever seen in his palaces: L'Escurial, Burgos, Aranjuez, ses repaires, Jamais n'illuminaient leurs livides plafonds. His eye shines, it is true, but it is a gleam that suggests a darkness beneath: Sa prunelle Luit comme un soupirail de caverne. Note again the oppressive darkness of the opening lines of _Pleine Mer_, in which the only touch of light is the winding-sheet of the waves, and contrast it with the atmosphere of light which surrounds the ship in _Plein Ciel_, where even the night is bright: La Nuit tire du fond des gouffres inconnus Son filet où luit Mars, où rayonne Vénus. _Le Crapaud_ is wrapped in the light of sunset: Le couchant rayonnait dans les nuages roses; C'était la fin d'un jour d'orage, et l'occident Changeait l'ondée en flamme en son brasier ardent. * * * * * Les feuilles s'empourpraient dans les arbres vermeils; L'eau miroitait, mêlée à l'herbe, dans l'ornière. And this because sunset is the hour for gentle thoughts and quiet feeling: Dans la sérénité du pâle crépuscule, La brute par moments pense et sent qu'elle est soeur De la mystérieuse et profonde douceur. So strong is Hugo's feeling for light and shadow that he often seems to solidify them, as it were, into concrete objects. When the trap-door in the hall of Corbus is opened Il en sort de l'ombre, ayant l'odeur du crime,