"Isabella," said Hippolita
calmly, "is
retired, I suppose, to her
chamber: she is not accustomed to watch at this late hour. Gracious
my Lord," continued she, "let me know what has disturbed you. Has
Isabella offended you?"
"Trouble me not with questions," said Manfred, "but tell me where she
is."
"Matilda shall call her," said the Princess. "Sit down, my Lord, and
resume your wonted fortitude."
"What, art thou
jealous of Isabella?" replied he, "that you wish to be
present at our interview!"
"Good heavens! my Lord," said Hippolita, "what is it your Highness
means?"
"Thou wilt know ere many minutes are passed," said the cruel Prince.
"Send your
chaplain to me, and wait my pleasure here."
At these words he flung out of the room in search of Isabella, leaving
the amazed ladies
thunderstruck with his words and
frantic deportment,
and lost in vain conjectures on what he was meditating.
Manfred was now returning from the vault, attended by the
peasant and
a few of his servants whom he had obliged to accompany him. He
ascended the
staircase without stopping till he arrived at the
gallery, at the door of which he met Hippolita and her
chaplain. When
Diego had been dismissed by Manfred, he had gone directly to the
Princess's
apartment with the alarm of what he had seen. That
excellent Lady, who no more than Manfred doubted of the
reality of the
vision, yet
affected to treat it as a delirium of the servant.
Willing, however, to save her Lord from any
additional shock, and
prepared by a
series of griefs not to tremble at any
accession to it,
she determined to make herself the first sacrifice, if fate had marked
the present hour for their
destruction. Dismissing the reluctant
Matilda to her rest, who in vain sued for leave to accompany her
mother, and attended only by her
chaplain, Hippolita had visited the
gallery and great
chamber; and now with more serenity of soul than she
had felt for many hours, she met her Lord, and
assured him that the
vision of the
gigantic leg and foot was all a fable; and no doubt an
impression made by fear, and the dark and
dismal hour of the night, on
the minds of his servants. She and the
chaplain had examined the
chamber, and found everything in the usual order.
Manfred, though
persuaded, like his wife, that the
vision had been no
work of fancy, recovered a little from the
tempest of mind into which
so many strange events had thrown him. Ashamed, too, of his inhuman
treatment of a Princess who returned every
injury with new marks of
tenderness and duty, he felt returning love forcing itself into his
eyes; but not less
ashamed of feeling
remorse towards one against whom
he was
inwardly meditating a yet more bitter
outrage, he curbed the
yearnings of his heart, and did not dare to lean even towards pity.
The next
transition of his soul was to
exquisite villainy.
Presuming on the unshaken
submission of Hippolita, he flattered
himself that she would not only
acquiesce with
patience to a divorce,
but would obey, if it was his pleasure, in endeavouring to
persuadeIsabella to give him her hand - but ere he could
indulge his horrid
hope, he reflected that Isabella was not to be found. Coming to
himself, he gave orders that every avenue to the castle should be
strictly guarded, and
charged his domestics on pain of their lives to
suffer nobody to pass out. The young
peasant, to whom he spoke
favourably, he ordered to remain in a small
chamber on the stairs, in
which there was a pallet-bed, and the key of which he took away
himself, telling the youth he would talk with him in the morning.
Then dismissing his attendants, and bestowing a
sullen kind of half-
nod on Hippolita, he
retired to his own
chamber.
CHAPTER II.
MATILDA, who by Hippolita's order had
retired to her
apartment, was
ill-
disposed to take any rest. The
shocking fate of her brother had
deeply
affected her. She was surprised at not
seeing Isabella; but
the strange words which had fallen from her father, and his obscure
menace to the Princess his wife, accompanied by the most furious
behaviour, had filled her gentle mind with
terror and alarm. She
waited
anxiously for the return of Bianca, a young
damsel that
attended her, whom she had sent to learn what was become of Isabella.
Bianca soon appeared, and informed her
mistress of what she had
gathered from the servants, that Isabella was
nowhere to be found.
She
related the adventure of the young
peasant who had been discovered
in the vault, though with many simple additions from the incoherent
accounts of the domestics; and she dwelt
principally on the
giganticleg and foot which had been seen in the
gallery-
chamber. This last
circumstance had terrified Bianca so much, that she was rejoiced when
Matilda told her that she would not go to rest, but would watch till
the Princess should rise.
The young Princess wearied herself in conjectures on the
flight of
Isabella, and on the threats of Manfred to her mother. "But what
business could he have so
urgent with the
chaplain?" said Matilda,
"Does he intend to have my brother's body interred
privately in the
chapel?"
"Oh, Madam!" said Bianca, "now I guess. As you are become his
heiress, he is
impatient to have you married: he has always been
raving for more sons; I
warrant he is now
impatient for grandsons. As
sure as I live, Madam, I shall see you a bride at last. - Good madam,
you won't cast off your
faithful Bianca: you won't put Donna Rosara
over me now you are a great Princess."
"My poor Bianca," said Matilda, "how fast your thoughts amble! I a
great
princess" target="_blank" title="n.公主;王妃;亲王夫人">
princess! What hast thou seen in Manfred's behaviour since my
brother's death that bespeaks any increase of
tenderness to me? No,
Bianca; his heart was ever a stranger to me - but he is my father, and
I must not
complain. Nay, if Heaven shuts my father's heart against
me, it overpays my little merit in the
tenderness of my mother - O
that dear mother! yes, Bianca, 'tis there I feel the
ruggedtemper of
Manfred. I can support his harshness to me with
patience; but it
wounds my soul when I am
witness to his causeless
severity towards
her."
"Oh! Madam," said Bianca, "all men use their wives so, when they are
weary of them."
"And yet you congratulated me but now," said Matilda, "when you
fancied my father intended to
dispose of me!"
"I would have you a great Lady," replied Bianca, "come what will. I
do not wish to see you moped in a
convent, as you would be if you had
your will, and if my Lady, your mother, who knows that a bad husband
is better than no husband at all, did not
hinder you. - Bless me! what
noise is that! St. Nicholas
forgive me! I was but in jest."
"It is the wind," said Matilda, "whistling through the battlements in
the tower above: you have heard it a thousand times."
"Nay," said Bianca, "there was no harm neither in what I said: it is
no sin to talk of matrimony - and so, Madam, as I was
saying, if my
Lord Manfred should offer you a handsome young Prince for a
bridegroom, you would drop him a
curtsey, and tell him you would
rather take the veil?"
"Thank Heaven! I am in no such danger," said Matilda: "you know how
many proposals for me he has rejected - "
"And you thank him, like a dutiful daughter, do you, Madam? But come,
Madam; suppose, to-morrow morning, he was to send for you to the great
council
chamber, and there you should find at his elbow a lovely young
Prince, with large black eyes, a smooth white
forehead, and manly
curling locks like jet; in short, Madam, a young hero resembling the
picture of the good Alfonso in the
gallery, which you sit and gaze at
for hours together - "
"Do not speak
lightly of that picture," interrupted Matilda sighing;
"I know the
adoration with which I look at that picture is
uncommon -
but I am not in love with a coloured panel. The
character of that
virtuous Prince, the veneration with which my mother has inspired me
for his memory, the orisons which, I know not why, she has enjoined me
to pour forth at his tomb, all have concurred to
persuade me that
somehow or other my
destiny is linked with something relating to him."
"Lord, Madam! how should that be?" said Bianca; "I have always heard