which she has fairly earned, and which she can offer to you.
They are the
reward of her love, her courage, and her
honesty. As to you, Sir -- thanks to Rosa again, who has
furnished the proofs of your
innocence ---- "
And,
saying these words, the Prince handed to Cornelius that
fly-leaf of the Bible on which was written the letter of
Cornelius de Witt, and in which the third bulb had been
wrapped, --
"As to you, it has come to light that you were imprisoned
for a crime which you had not committed. This means, that
you are not only free, but that your property will be
restored to you; as the property of an
innocent man cannot
be confiscated. Cornelius van Baerle, you are the godson of
Cornelius de Witt and the friend of his brother John. Remain
worthy of the name you have received from one of them, and
of the friendship you have enjoyed with the other. The two
De Witts, wrongly judged and wrongly punished in a moment of
popular error, were two great citizens, of whom Holland is
now proud."
The Prince, after these last words, which
contrary to his
custom, he
pronounced with a voice full of
emotion, gave his
hands to the lovers to kiss,
whilst they were kneeling
before him.
Then heaving a sigh, he said, --
"Alas! you are very happy, who, dreaming only of what
perhaps is the true glory of Holland, and forms especially
her true happiness, do not attempt to
acquire for her
anything beyond new colours of tulips."
And, casting a glance towards that point of the compass
where France lay, as if he saw new clouds
gathering there,
he entered his
carriage and drove off.
Cornelius started on the same day for Dort with Rosa, who
sent her lover's old
keeper" target="_blank" title="n.主妇,女管家">
housekeeper as a
messenger to her
father, to apprise him of all that had taken place.
Those who, thanks to our
description, have
learned the
character of old Gryphus, will
comprehend that it was hard
for him to become reconciled to his son-in-law. He had not
yet forgotten the blows which he had received in that famous
encounter. To judge from the weals which he counted, their
number, he said, amounted to forty-one; but at last, in
order, as he declared, not to be less
generous than his
Highness the Stadtholder, he consented to make his peace.
Appointed to watch over the tulips, the old man made the
rudest
keeper of flowers in the whole of the Seven
Provinces.
It was indeed a sight to see him watching the obnoxious
moths and butterflies, killing slugs, and driving away the
hungry bees.
As he had heard Boxtel's story, and was
furious at having
been the dupe of the pretended Jacob, he destroyed the
sycamore behind which the
envious Isaac had spied into the
garden; for the plot of ground belonging to him had been
bought by Cornelius, and taken into his own garden.
Rosa, growing not only in beauty, but in
wisdom also, after
two years of her married life, could read and write so well
that she was able to
undertake by herself the education of
two beautiful children which she had borne in 1674 and 1675,
both in May, the month of flowers.
As a matter of course, one was a boy, the other a girl, the
former being called Cornelius, the other Rosa.
Van Baerle remained
faithfully attached to Rosa and to his
tulips. The whole of his life was
devoted to the happiness
of his wife and the
culture of flowers, in the latter of
which occupations he was so successful that a great number
of his varieties found a place in the
catalogue of Holland.
The two
principal ornaments of his drawing-room were those
two leaves from the Bible of Cornelius de Witt, in large
golden frames; one of them containing the letter in which
his godfather enjoined him to burn the
correspondence of the
Marquis de Louvois, and the other his own will, in which he
bequeathed to Rosa his bulbs under condition that she should
marry a young man of from twenty-six to twenty-eight years,
who loved her and whom she loved, a condition which was
scrupulously fulfilled, although, or rather because,
Cornelius did not die.
And to ward off any
envious attempts of another Isaac
Boxtel, he wrote over his door the lines which Grotius had,
on the day of his
flight, scratched on the walls of his
prison: --
"Sometimes one has suffered so much that he has the right
never to be able to say, 'I am too happy.'"
End