CHAPTER XVII.
ANGELO. We must not make a scarecrow of the law, Setting it up to fear the birds of prey; And let it keep one shape, till custom make it Their perch, and not their terror.
ESCALUS. Ay, but yet Let us be keen, and rather cut a little, Than fall and bruise to death.
SHAKSPEARE.
On the evening preceding the day appointed for the trial, Isabella,unattended and unannounced, sought her husband's private closet; shefound him poring so intently over maps and plans, which strewed thetables before him, that she spoke before he perceived her.
"Just come when most wished for, dear wife, and royal liege," was hiscourteous address, as he rose and gracefully led her to a seat besidehis own. "See how my plans for the reduction of these heathen Moorsare quietly working; they are divided within themselves, quarrellingmore and more fiercely. Pedro Pas brings me information that the roadto Alhama is well nigh defenceless, and therefore the war shouldcommence in that quarter. But how is this, love?" he added, afterspeaking of his intended measures at some length, and perceiving thatthey failed to elicit Isabella's interest as usual. "Thy thoughts arenot with me this evening."
"With thee, my husband, but not with the Moors," replied the Queen,faintly smiling. "I confess to a pre-occupied mind; but just now myheart is so filled with sorrowing sympathy, that I can think butof individuals, not of nations. In the last council, in which thequestion of this Moorish war was agitated, our faithful Morales wasthe most eloquent. His impassioned oratory so haunted me, as yourGrace spoke, that I can scarcely now believe it hushed for ever, savefor the too painful witness of its truth."
"His lovely wife thou meanest, Isabel? Poor girl! How fares she?"
"As she has been since that long faint, which even I believed wasdeath; pale, tearless, silent. Even the seeing of her husband's body,which I permitted, hoping the sight would break that marble calm,has had no effect, save to increase, if possible, the rigidity ofsuffering. It is for her my present errand."
"For her!" replied the King, surprised. "What can I do for her, apartfrom thee?"
"I will answer the question by another, Ferdinand. Is it true that shemust appear as evidence against the murderer in to-morrow's trial?"
"Isabella, this must be," answered the King, earnestly. "There seemsto me no alternative; and yet surely this cannot be so repugnant toher feelings. Would it not be more injustice, both to her, and to thedead, to withhold any evidence likely to assist in the discovery ofthe murderer?"
"But why lay so much stress on her appearance? Is there not sufficientevidence without her?"
"Not to satisfy me as to Stanley's guilt," replied the King. "Ihave heard indeed from Don Luis Garcia quite enough, _if it be trueevidence_, to condemn him. But I like not this Garcia; it is uselessnow to examine wherefore. I doubt him so much, that I would not, ifpossible, lay any stress upon his words. He has declared on oath thathe saw Stanley draw his sword upon Morales, proclaim aloud his undyinghatred, and swear that he would take his life or lose his own; butthat, if I were not satisfied with this assurance, Donna Marie herselfhad been present, had seen and heard all, and could no doubt give avery efficient reason, in her own beautiful person, for Stanley'shatred to her husband, as such matters were but too common in Spain.I checked him with a stern rebuke; for if ever there were adouble-meaning hypocrite, this Don Luis is one. Besides, I cannotpenetrate how he came to be present at this stormy interview. He hasevaded, he thinks successfully, my questions on this head; but if, asI believe, it was dishonorably obtained, I am the less inclined totrust either him or his intelligence. If Marie were indeed present,which he insists she was, her testimony is the most important of any.If she confirm Don Luis's statement, give the same account of theinterview between her husband and Stanley, and a reason for thissuddenly proclaimed enmity; if she swear that he did utter suchthreatening words, I will neither hope nor try to save him; he isguilty, and must die. But if she deny that he thus spoke; if shedeclares on oath that she knew of no cause for, nor of the existenceof any enmity, I care not for other proofs, glaring though they be.Accident or some atrocious design against him, as an envied foreigner,may have thrown them together. Let Marie swear that this Garcia hasspoken falsely, and Stanley shall live, were my whole kingdom toimplore his death. In Donna Marie's evidence there can be no deceit;she can have no wish that Stanley should be saved; as her husband'ssupposed murderer, he must be an object of horror and loathing. Stillsilent Isabel? Is not her evidence required?"
"It is indeed. And yet I feel that, to demand it, will but increasethe trial already hers."
"As how?" inquired the King, somewhat astonished. "Surely thou canstnot mean--"
"I mean nothing; I know nothing," interrupted Isabella hastily. "I cangive your Grace no reason, save my own feelings. Is there no way toprevent this public exposure, and yet serve the purpose equally?"
Ferdinand mused. "I can think of none," he said. "Does Marie know ofthis summons? and has her anguish sent thee hither? Or is it merelythe pleadings of thine own heart, my Isabel?"
"She does not know it. The summons appeared to me so strange andneedless, I would not let her be informed till I had sought thee."
"But thou seest it is not needless!" answered the King anxiously, forin the most trifling matter he ever sought her acquiescence.
"Needless it is not, my liege. The life of the young foreigner, whohas thrown himself so confidingly on our protection and friendship,must not be sacrificed without most convincing proofs of his guilt.Marie's evidence is indeed important; but would not your Grace'spurpose be equally attained, if that evidence be given to me, hernative Sovereign, in private, without the dread formula which, ifsummoned before a court of justice, may have fatal effects on amind and frame already so severely tried? In my presence alone thenecessary evidence may be given with equal solemnity, and with lesspain to the poor sufferer herself."
King Ferdinand again paused in thought. "But her words must be onoath, Isabel. Who will administer that oath?"
"Father Francis, if required. But it will surely be enough if sheswear the truth to me. She cannot deceive me, even if she were soinclined. I can mark a quivering lip or changing color, which othersmight pass unnoticed."
"But how will this secret examination satisfy the friends of themurdered?" again urged the cautious King. "How will they be satisfied,if I acquit Stanley from Donna Marie's evidence, and that evidence bekept from them?"
"Is not the word of their Sovereign enough? If Isabella say so it is,what noble of Castile would disgrace himself or her by a doubt as toits truth?" replied the Queen proudly. "Let me clearly understand allyour Grace requires, and leave the rest to me. If Marie corroboratesGarcia's words, why, on his evidence sentence may be pronouncedwithout her appearance in it at all; but if she deny in the smallesttittle his report, in my presence they shall confront each other, andfear not the truth shall be elicited, and, if possible, Stanley saved.I may be deceived, and Marie not refuse to appear as witness againsthim; if so, there needs not my interference. I would but spare herincrease of pain, and bid her desolate heart cling to me as her motherand her friend. When my subjects look upon me thus, my husband, then,and then only is Isabella what she would be."
"And do they not already thus regard thee, my own Isabel?" replied theKing, gazing with actual reverence upon her; "and as such, will futureages reverence thy name. Be it as thou wilt. Let Marie's own feelingsdecide the question. She _must_ take part in this trial, either inpublic or private; she _must_ speak on oath, for life and death hangon her words, and her decision must be speedy. It is sunset now, andere to-morrow's noon she must have spoken, or be prepared to appear."
Ere Queen Isabella reached her own apartments her plan was formed. DonLuis's tale had confirmed her suspicions as to the double cause ofMarie's wretchedness; she had herself administered to her while inthat dead faint--herself bent over her, lest the first words ofreturning consciousness should betray aught which the sufferer mightwish concealed; but her
care had been needless: no word passed thoseparched and ashy lips. The frame, indeed, for some days was powerless,and she acceded eagerly to Isabella's earnest proffer (for it was notcommand) to send for her attendants, and occupy a suite of rooms inthe castle, close to her royal mistress, in preference to returning toher own home; from which, in its desolate grandeur, she shrunk almostin loathing.
For seven days after her loss she had not quitted her apartment, seenonly by the Queen and her own woman; but after that interval, atIsabella's gently expressed wish, she joined her, in her privatehours, amongst her most favored attendants; called upon indeed fornothing save her presence! And little did her pre-occupied mindimagine how tenderly she was watched, and with what kindly sympathyher unexpressed thoughts were read.
On the evening in question, Isabella was seated, as was her frequentcustom, in a spacious chamber, surrounded by her female attendants,with whom she was familiarly conversing, making them friends as wellas subjects, yet so uniting dignity with kindness, that her favor wasfar more valued and eagerly sought than had there been no superiority;yet, still it was more for her perfect womanhood than her rank thatshe was so reverenced, so loved. At the farther end of the spaciouschamber were several young girls, daughters of the nobles of Castileand Arragon, whom Isabella's maternal care for her subjects hadcollected around her, that their education might be carried on underher own eye, and so create for the future nobles of her country, wivesand mothers after her own exalted stamp. They were always encouragedto converse freely and gayly amongst each other; for thus she learnedtheir several characters, and guided them accordingly. There wasneither restraint nor heaviness in her presence; for by a word, asmile, she could prove her interest in their simple pleasures, hersympathy in their eager youth.
Apart from all, but nearest Isabella, silent and pale, shrouded in thesable robes of widowhood--that painful garb which, in its voicelesseloquence of desolation, ever calls for tears, more especially whenit shrouds the young; her beautiful hair, save two thick braids,concealed under the linen coif--sat Marie, lovely indeed still, butlooking like one
"Whose heart was born to break-- A face on which to gaze, made every feeling ache."
An embroidery frame was before her, "but the flowers grew but slowlybeneath her hand. About an hour after Isabella had joined herattendants, a light signal was heard at the tapestried door of theapartment. The Queen was then sitting in a posture of deep meditation;but she looked up, as a young girl answered the summons, and thenturned towards her Sovereign.
"Well, Catherine?"
"Royal madam, a page, from his Grace the King, craves speech of DonnaMarie."
"Admit him then."
The boy entered, and with a low reverence advanced towards Marie.She looked up in his face bewildered--a bewilderment which Isabellaperceived changed to a strong expression of mental torture, ere heceased to speak.
"Ferdinand, King of Arragon and Castile," he said, "sends, with allcourtesy, his royal greeting to Donna Marie Henriquez Morales, andforthwith commands her attendance at the solemn trial which is heldto-morrow's noon; by her evidence to confirm or refute the chargebrought against the person of Arthur Stanley, as being and having beenthe acknowledged enemy of the deceased Don Ferdinand Morales (Godassoilize his soul!) and as having uttered words of murderous importin her hearing. Resolved, to the utmost of his power, to do justice tothe living as to avenge the dead, his royal highness is compelled thusto demand the testimony of Donna Marie, as she alone can confirm orrefute this heavy and most solemn charge."
There was no answer; but it seemed as if the messenger requirednone--imagining the royal command all sufficient for obedience--for hebowed respectfully as he concluded, and withdrew. Marie gazed afterhim, and her lip quivered as if she would have spoken--would haverecalled him; but no word came, and she drooped her head on her hands,pressing her slender fingers strongly on her brow, as thus to bringback connected thought once more. What had he said? She must appearagainst Stanley--she must speak his doom? Why did those fatal wordswhich must condemn him, ring in her ears, as only that moment spoken?Her embroidery fell from her lap, and there was no movement to replaceit. How long she thus sat she knew not; but, roused by the Queen'svoice uttering her name, she started, and looked round her. Shewas alone with Isabella; who was gazing on her with such unfeignedcommiseration, that, unable to resist the impulse, she dartedforwards, and sinking at her feet, implored--
"Oh, madam--gracious madam! in mercy spare me this!"
The Queen drew her tenderly to her, and said, with evident emotion--
"What am I to spare thee, my poor child? Surely thou wouldst notwithhold aught that can convict thy husband's murderer? Thou wouldstnot in mistaken mercy elude for him the justice of the law?"
"No--no," murmured Marie; "let the murderer die; but not Stanley! Oh,no--no; he would not lift his hand against my husband. Who says heslew him? Why do they attach so foul a crime to his unshadowed name?Let the murderer die; but it is not Arthur: I know it is not. Oh, donot slay him too!"
Marie knew not the wild entreaty breathing in her words: but thealmost severely penetrating gaze which Isabella had fixed upon her,recalled her to herself; a crimson flush mounted to cheek and brow,and, burying her face in the Queen's robe, she continued less wildly--
"Oh, madam, bear with me; I know not what I say. Think I am mad;but oh, in mercy, ask me no question. Am I not mad, to ask thee tospare--spare--him they call my husband's murderer? Let him die," andthe wild tone returned, "if he indeed could strike the blow; but oh,let not my lips pronounce his death-doom! Gracious Sovereign, do notlook upon me thus--I cannot bear that gaze."
"Fear me not, poor sufferer," replied Isabella, mildly; "I will ask noquestion--demand nought that will give thee pain to answer--save thatwhich justice compels me to require. That there is a double cause forall this wretchedness, I cannot but perceive, and that I suspect itscause I may not deny; but guilty I will not believe thee, tillthine own words or deeds proclaim it. Look up then, my poor child,unshrinkingly; I am no dread Sovereign to thee, painful as is thetrial to which I fear I must subject thee. There are charges broughtagainst young Stanley so startling in their nature, that, much as wedistrust his accuser, justice forbids our passing them unnoticed. Onthy true testimony his Grace the King relies to confirm or refutethem. Thy evidence must convict or save him."
"My evidence!" repeated Marie. "What can they ask of me of suchweight? Save him." she added, a sudden gleam of hope irradiating herpallid face, like a sunbeam upon snow? "Did your Grace say _I_ couldsave him? Oh, speak, in mercy!"
"Calm this emotion then, Marie, and thou shalt know all. It was forthis I called thee hither. Sit thee on the settle at my feet, andlisten to me patiently, if thou canst. 'Tis a harsh word to use togrief such as thine, my child," she added, caressingly, as she laidher hand on Marie's drooping head; "and I fear will only nerve theefor a still harsher trial. Believe me, I would have spared thee if Icould; but all I can do is to bid thee choose the lesser of the twoevils. Mark me well: for the Sovereign of the murdered, the judge ofthe murderer, alike speak through me." And clearly and forcibly shenarrated all, with which our readers are already acquainted, throughher interview with the King. She spoke very slowly, as if to giveMarie time to weigh well each sentence. She could not see hercountenance; nay, she purposely refrained from looking at her, lestshe should increase the suffering she was so unwillingly inflicting.For some minutes she paused as she concluded; then, as neither wordnor sound escaped from Marie, she said, with emphatic earnestness--"Ifit will be a lesser trial to give thine evidence on oath to thyQueen alone, we are here to receive it. Our royal husband--our loyalsubjects--will be satisfied with Isabella's report. Thy words will beas sacred--thy oath as valid--as if thy testimony were received inpublic, thy oath administered by one of the holy fathers, with all thedread formula of the church. We have repeated all to which thy answerswill be demanded; it remains for thee to decide whether thou wiltspeak before his Grace the King and
his assembled junta, or here andnow before thy native Sovereign. Pause ere thou dost answer--there istime enough."
For a brief interval there was silence. The kind heart of the Queenthrobbed painfully, so completely had her sympathy identified her withthe beautiful being, who had so irresistibly claimed her cherishinglove. But ere she had had time to satisfy herself as to the issue ofthe struggle so silently, yet so fearfully at work in her companion,Marie had arisen, and with dignity and fearlessness, strangely atvariance with the wild agony of her words and manner before, stooderect before her Sovereign; and when she spoke, her voice was calm andfirm.
"Queen of Spain!" she said. "My kind, gracious Sovereign! Would thatwords could speak one-half the love, the devotion, all thy goodnesshas inspired; but they seem frozen, all frozen now, and it may be thatI may never even prove them--that it will be my desolate fate, to seemless and less worthy of an affection I value more than life. Royalmadam! I will appear at to-morrow's trial! Your Grace is startled;deeming it a resolve as strange as contradictory. Ask not thewherefore, gracious Sovereign: it is fixed unalterably. I will obeyhis Grace's summons. Its unexpected suddenness startled me at first;but it is over. Oh, madam," she continued--tone, look, and mannerbecoming again those of the agitated suppliant, and she sunk once moreat Isabella's feet: "In my wild agony I have forgotten the respect anddeference due from a subject to her Sovereign; I have poured forth mymisery, seemingly as regardless of kindness, as insensible to the widedistance between us. Oh, forgive me, my gracious Sovereign; and intoken of thy pardon, grant me but one boon!"
"Nought have I to forgive, my suffering child," replied the Queen,powerfully affected, and passing her arm caressingly round herkneeling favorite; "what is rank--sovereignty itself--in hours ofsorrow? If I were so tenacious of dignity as thou fearest, I shouldhave shrunk from that awful presence--affliction from a Father'shand--in which his children are all equals, Marie. And as for thyboon: be it what it may, I grant it."
"Thou sayest so now, my liege; but when the hour to grant it comes,every feeling will revolt against it; even thine, my Sovereign, kind,generous, as thou art. Oh, Madam, thou wilt hear a strange taleto-morrow--one so fraught with mystery and marvel, thou wilt refuse tobelieve; but when the trial of to-morrow is past, then think on whatI say now: what thou nearest will be TRUE--true as there is a heavenabove us; I swear it! Do not look upon me thus, my Sovereign; I am notmad--oh, would that I were! Dark, meaningless as my words seem now,to-morrow they will be distinct and clear enough. And then--then,if thou hast ever loved me, oh, grant the boon I implore thee now:whatever thou mayest hear, do not condemn me--do not cast me whollyfrom thee. More than ever shall I need thy protecting care. Oh, mySovereign--thou who hast taught me so to love thee, in pity love mestill!"
"Strange wayward being," said Isabella, gazing doubtingly on theimploring face upturned to hers; "towards other than thyself suchmystery would banish love for ever; but I will not doubt thee. Darklyas thou speakest, still I grant the boon. What can I hear of thee, tocast thee from me?"
"Thou wilt hear of deceit, my liege," replied Marie, very slowly, andher eyes fell beneath the Queen's gaze; "thou wilt hear of long yearsof deceit and fraud, and many--many tongues will speak their scorn andcondemnation. Then wilt thou grant it--then?"
"Even then," replied Isabella fearlessly; "an thou speakest truthat last, deceit itself I will forgive. But thou art overwrought andanxious, and so layest more stress on some trivial fault than even Iwould demand. Go to thy own chamber now, and in prayer and meditationgain strength for to-morrow's trial. Whatever I may hear, so it be notmeditated and unrepented guilt, (which I know it cannot be,) I willforgive, and love thee still. The holy saints bless and keep thee, myfair child!"
And as Marie bent to salute the kind hand extended to her, Isabelladrew her towards her, and fondly kissed her cheek. The unexpectedcaress, or some other secret feeling, subdued the overwrought energyat once; and for the first time since her husband's death, Marie burstinto natural tears. But her purpose changed not; though Isabella'sgentle and affectionate soothing rendered it tenfold more painful toaccomplish.
The Vale of Cedars; Or, The Martyr Page 18