CHAPTER XIV.
Pyramus Kogel, on his return, saw nothing of the deep impressionwhich Wolf's visit had made upon Barbara. She merely mentioned it, andcarelessly said that the friend of her youth had been delighted with thechildren.
The news that reached her ears about what was happening in the worldawakened her interest, it is true, but she took no trouble to ask fortidings. When, the following year, her husband informed her that theEmperor's only son was about to conclude a second marriage, with MaryTudor, of England, and Charles was to commit to Philip the sovereigntyof the Netherlands, Spain, Naples, and Milan, she received it as if shehad already known it.
What she learned through the neighbours of the increasing number ofexecutions of obdurate heretics she deemed the wise measures of a devoutand conscientious government.
To the children Barbara was a careful mother. She rarely went to visitthe Dubois couple. Frau Traut either could not or was not allowed totell her anything about her child, except that he was thriving under thematernal care of Dona Magdalena, to whom he had been confided.
The next winter, during which Charles reached his fifty-fourth year,his health failed so noticeably that the physicians despaired of hisrecovery. The Brabant palace was constantly besieged by people of allclasses inquiring about the condition of the still honoured and by manydeeply beloved monarch, and Barbara almost daily asked for news of him.She usually entered the palace clad in black and closely veiled, for shehad many acquaintances among the attendants.
Adrian was inaccessible, because his master could not spare him a singlehour, but she saw his substitute, Ogier Bodart, who had served theEmperor in Ratisbon. From him she learned how the sufferer passedthe night, how the day promised, and whether the physician's opinionawakened hope or fear. He even told her that his Majesty was occupyinghimself with his last will, the payment of his debts, the arrangement ofthe succession, and the choice of his burial place.
All this occupied Barbara's mind so deeply, and the long waiting tosee Bodart often robbed her of so much time, that her housewifely andmaternal duties suffered, yet her patient husband endured it a longwhile indulgently. But once, when he summoned up courage and cautiouslyblamed her, she quietly admitted that he was right, but added that shehad never concealed from him the tie which bound her to the EmperorCharles, and now that Death was stretching his hand toward him, she mustbe permitted to obtain news of his welfare.
The strong man silenced his dissatisfaction, and placed no obstacles inher way. He was grateful for the maternal solicitude which she showedthe children.
His kindly nature secretly approved of her spending a longer time in theCathedral of St. Gudule than usual, praying for the royal sufferer whowas so seriously ill. The man whom she could not forget was dying and,moreover, was his sovereign.
Spring at last brought an improvement in the monarch's health, and withit Barbara's return to her household duties.
A great change took place in the Dubois home during the spring afterCharles's convalescence. The exhausting care of the Emperor hadmade Adrian seriously ill and, in spite of the objections and bittercomplaints of his beloved and honoured master and his own desire tocontinue in his service, he was forced to resign his office, which wascommitted to his assistant Bodart.
One day Barbara met Dr. Mathys at the ex-valet's sick-bed. The kindlyleech was amazed at her youthful appearance, and also at the obstinacyof her throat ailment; but he encouraged her, for he had recently seenmarvellous effects produced by the old Roman baths at Ems, which werenot difficult to reach, and advised her to use them as soon as possible.She must inform him of the result, if he was permitted to visit theNetherlands again.
Then Barbara asked if he intended to leave the master whose life waspreserved by his skill; but he only shook his big head, smiling, andsaid that the Emperor and he belonged together, like the soul and thebody, but whether his Majesty would remain in Brabant much longer was anopen question.
Barbara now remembered Wolf's communication, and when the rumour spreadthat the Emperor Charles was inclined to give up his rulership andcommit the sceptre and crown to his son Philip, she knew that this timealso Charles would execute the plan which he had matured after years ofconsideration.
Through her friend she knew the motives which urged him to renouncepower and grandeur and retire to solitude; but to her it seemed certainthat, above all other reasons, longing for the fair, curly-headed boy,his son and hers, had induced him to take this great and admirable step.
Gradually her maternal heart attributed to her John alone the desire ofthe world-weary earthly pilgrim to lay aside the purple and return toSpain.
Though Barbara at this time rarely left her own fireside, her husbandmight often have wished that she would return to the conduct of theprevious winter, for he perceived the torturing anxiety which wasconsuming her.
She could gaze for hours into vacancy, absorbed in profound meditationand reveries, or play on the harp and lute, softly humming old songs toherself. If at such times Pyramus asked, lovingly and modestly, thathe might not expose himself to an angry rebuff, what was burdening hersoul, his wife gave evasive answers or told him about the physician'sadvice, and described how different the lives of both would be if shecould regain the lost melody of her voice. But when he, who did notgrudge the woman he loved the very best of everything, joyfully offeredfrom his savings the sum necessary to send her and Frau Lamperi to Ems,in order, if possible, to commence the cure at once, she asserted that,for many reasons, she could not begin this summer the treatment whichpromised so much. True, the bare thought that if might once again beallotted to her to raise her heart in song filled her with the sameblissful hope as ever; but if the report, which constantly grew moredefinite, did not deceive, the Emperor's formal abdication was close athand, and to attend this great event seemed to her a duty of the heart,a necessity which she could not avoid. In many a quiet hour she toldherself that Charles, when he had divested himself of all his honoursand become a mere man like the rest of the world, would draw nearer toher boy, and through him to her. As an ordinary mortal, he would be ableto love, like every other father, the child that attracted him to Spain.If in his life of meditation, far from the tumult of the world, thestrife for knowledge should lead him to look back into the past, andin doing so he again recalled the days to which he owed his greatesthappiness, could he help remembering her and her singing?
How often she had heard that the knowledge of self was the highestgoal of thought to the philosopher, and as such Charles would certainlyretire into seclusion, and, as surely as she desired to be saved, he hadwronged her and must then perceive it. Probably there were thousands ofmore important things in which he had to bury himself, but the boy wouldremind him of her and the injury which he had done.
Never had she more deeply admired the grandeur of her imperial lover,and with entire confidence she believed that this stupendous act ofrenunciation would mark the beginning of a new life for her and herchild.
September and the first half of October passed like a fevered dream.
The abdication would certainly take place.
Charles had resolved to transfer all the crowns which adorned him to hisson Philip, and retire to a Spanish monastery.
Barbara also learned when and where the solemn ceremony was to takeplace. Day after day she again mingled with the visitors to the palace,and on the twenty-first of October she saw the eleven Knights of theGolden Fleece, to whom he wished to restore the office of grand master,enter the palace chapel.
How magnificently these greatest of all dignitaries were attired! howall that she saw of this rare event in the palace chapel reminded her ofthe solemn ceremonial at the Trausnitzburg at Landshut, and her resolveto surrender her child, that it might possess the same splendour andhonours as its sister's husband!
The wishes cherished at that time were still unfulfilled; but the fatherwould soon meet the son again, and the greater affection this peerlessboy aroused in Charles, the more surely he would
know how to bestow onhim honours as high or higher than he gave the daughter of Johanna Vander Gheynst.
Five days after the assembling of the Knights of the Golden Fleece, thesolemn ceremony of the abdication would take place in the great hallwhich joined the palace chapel.
She must obtain admittance to it. Her husband did what he could to aidher and soothe her excitement by the gratification of so ardent a wish,but his efforts were vain.
Barbara herself, however, did not remain idle, and tried her fortunewith those of high and low estate whom she had known in the past.
She could not trust to forcing her way in on the day of the ceremony ofabdication, for every place in the limited space assigned to spectatorshad been carefully allotted, and no one would be permitted to enter thepalace without a pass. When, after many a futile errand, she had beenrefused also by the lord chamberlain, she turned her steps to BaronMalfalconnet's palace.
He had just swung himself into the saddle, and Barbara found him greatlychanged. The handsome major-domo had grown gray, his bright face waswrinkled, and his smiling lips now wore a new, disagreeable, almostcruel expression of mockery. He probably recognised his visitor at once,but the meeting seemed scarcely to afford him pleasure. Nevertheless, helistened to her.
But as soon as he heard what she desired, he straightened himself in thesaddle, and cried: "When I wished to present you to his Majesty--do youremember?--at Ratisbon, you hastily wheeled your horse and vanished.Now, when you desire to bid farewell to our sovereign lord, I dutifullyfollow the example you then set me."
As he spoke he put spurs to his horse and, kissing his hand to her,dashed away. Barbara, wounded and disappointed, gazed after the pitilessscoffer.
She had knocked in vain where she might hope for consideration; only theyoung man of middle height who, carrying a portfolio under his arm, nowapproached her and raised his black secretary's cap, had been omitted,though he, too, was one of the old Ratisbon friends, and his positionwith the Bishop of Arras gave him a certain influence.
It was the little Maltese choir boy, Hannibal Melas, who owed so much toher recommendation.
He asked sympathizingly what troubled her and, after Barbara hadconfided to him what she had hitherto vainly desired, he referredher unasked to his omnipotent master, who was to enter King Philip'sservice, and proposed that she should come to his office early the nextmorning. Thence he would try to take her to the minister, who had byno means forgotten her superb singing. His Eminence had mentioned herkindly very recently in a conversation with the leech.
The following morning Barbara went to the great statesman's businessoffices. Hannibal was waiting for her.
It was on Saint Raphael's day, which had attracted his fellow-clerksto a festival in the country. Granvelle had given the others leave ofabsence, but wished to keep within call the industrious Maltese, onwhose zeal he could always rely.
Without stopping his diligent work at the writing-desk, the secretarybegged Barbara to wait a short time. He would soon finish the draughtof the new edict for which his Eminence and the Councillor Vigliuswere waiting in the adjoining chamber. The pictures on the walls of thefourth room were worth looking at.
Barbara followed his advice, but she paused in the third room, forthrough the partly open door she heard Granvelle's familiar voice.
Curious to see what changes time had wrought, she peered through theby no means narrow crack and overlooked the minister's spacious office,where he was now entirely alone with the Councillor Viglius.
The Bishop of Arras had scarcely altered since their last meeting,only his appearance had become somewhat more stately, and his clever,handsome face was fuller.
The Councillor Viglius, whom Barbara looked directly in the face, didnot exactly profit by the contrast with Granvelle, for the small figureof the Frieslander barely reached to the chin of the distinguishednative of tipper Burgundy, but his head presented a singular andremarkably vivid colouring. The perfectly smooth hair and thick beardof this no longer young man were saffron yellow, and his plump face wasstill red and white as milk and blood. It was easy to perceive by hiswhole extremely striking appearance that he was rightly numbered amongthe Emperor's shrewdest councillors. Barbara had heard marvellous talesof his learning, and it was really magnificent in compass and far moreimportant than his keen but narrow mind. This time the loquacious manwas allowing the Bishop of Arras to speak, and Barbara listened to hiswords and the councillor's answers with eager attention.
They were talking about the approaching abdication, and who knew theEmperor Charles better than these far-seeing men, who were so near hisperson?
If only she had not been obliged to believe this, for what she heardfrom them showed in sombre lines what her heart had clothed with goldenradiance.
Everything Wolf had told her concerning the motives which inducedCharles to devote himself for the remainder of his life to quietcontemplation seemed to her as credible as to the knight himself. Buthe had received what he knew from Queen Mary of Hungary, who interpretedher royal brother's conduct like an affectionate sister, or thought itadvisable to represent it in the most favourable light.
It had not occurred to the warm-hearted, straightforward Wolf to doubtthe royal lady's statement; but Barbara had regarded her friend'sexplanation of the Emperor's wonderful act of renunciation as she wouldhave gazed at a citadel founded on a rock with towers rising to theclouds, and in imagination had followed to his solitude the world-wearyphilosopher, the father yearning for the child he had missed so long.But how pitilessly what she heard here overthrew the proud edifice!how cruelly it destroyed what she had deemed worthy of the greatestadmiration, what had rendered her happy and reanimated her wishes andher hopes!
The wise Granvelle foresaw how the world would judge his master'sabdication, and described it to the Frieslander. It bore a fatefulresemblance to the regent's interpretation, her friend's opinion, andher own, and the shrewd Viglius accompanied this narrative with soscornful a laugh that it made her heart ache.
"This is what will be said," concluded the Bishop of Arras, summingup his previous statements, "of the wise scorner of the world upon thethrone, who cast aside sceptre and crown in order, as a pious recluse,to secure the salvation of his soul and, like a second Diogenes, tolisten to the wealth of his thoughts and investigate the nature ofthings."
"If only the pure spring from which the Greek dipped water in the hollowof his hand was not changed to a cellar full of fiery wine, his hermitfare to highly seasoned pasties, stuffed partridges, frozen fruitjuices, truffled pheasants, and such things! But everybody to his taste!The world will be deceived. Unless you wish to blind yourself, yourEminence, you will admit that I have seen correctly the most powerfulmotives for this unequalled act."
Barbara saw the bishop shake his head in dissent and, while she waslistening with strained ears to his explanation, Viglius, as if singingbass to Granvelle's tenor, repeated again and again at brief intervals,in a low tone, the one word, "Debts," while his green eyes sparkled,sometimes as if asking assent, sometimes combatively.
He believed that the weight of financial cares was causing the EmperorCharles's abdication. Like a wise man, he said, he would place his ownburden of debt upon his son's shoulders. His Majesty usually utteredexactly the opposite of his real opinions, and therefore, in the outlineof his abdication speech, he twice emphasized how great a debt ofgratitude Don Philip owed him for the Heritage which while still alivehe bequeathed to him. True, besides the debts, crowns and kingdoms inplenty passed to Charles's successor; but the father, so long as he drewbreath, would not give up the decision of the most important questionsof government, and therefore this abdication, after all, was merelyan excellent means of divesting himself of burdensome obligations,embellished with a certain amount of humbug.
The Bishop of Arras made no weighty protest against this severe speech;nay, he even said, in a tone of assent, that the Emperor Charles'stireless intellect would continue to direct political events. Besides,he could s
afely commit the execution of his conclusions and commands tohis obedient and dutiful heir.
"The world," he added, "will not fare badly by this arrangement; butyou, Viglius, can not forget the religious liberty which his Majestypromised to the Germans."
"Not until the end of my life!" cried the Frieslander, his green eyesflashing angrily.
Granvelle protested that this act of indulgence weighed heavily upon himalso; but at that time a refusal would have occasioned a new war,which, according to human judgment, would have resulted in loss andthe establishment of heresy in the Netherlands. Maurice of Saxony, hereminded the councillor, did not fall until a year later, and then as aconqueror, on the battlefield.
His Majesty's abdication, he went on with calm deliberation, was,however, not exactly as Viglius supposed. The desire to rid himselfof troublesome debts had only hastened the Emperor's resolution. Theprincipal motive for this momentous act he could state most positivelyto be the increasing burden of his physical sufferings. To this wasadded the feeling, usually found most frequently among gamblers, thatthe time to win or, in his Majesty's case, to succeed was past. Lastly,Charles really did long for less disturbance from the regular course ofbusiness, the reception of ambassadors, the granting of audiences.
"In short," he concluded, "he wants to have an easier life, and,besides, if the despatches and orders leave him time for it, tooccupy himself with his favourite amusements--his clocks and piecesof mechanism. Finally, his sufferings remind him often enough of theapproach of death, and he hopes by religious exercises to secure hisplace in the kingdom of heaven."
"So far as politics and the table give him leisure for it," interposedthe Frieslander. "He doesn't seem inclined to make his penance toosevere. Quijada is now preparing the penitential cell, and it is neitherin the burning Thebais nor in the arid sands of the desert, but in oneof the most delightful and charming places in Spain. May our sovereignfind there what he seeks! You are aware of the paternal joys which awaithim through the boy Geronimo?"
"Where did you learn that?" Granvelle interrupted in a startled tone,and Barbara held her breath and listened with twofold attention.
"From his Majesty himself," was the reply. "He intended his son forthe monastery. He longs to see him again, because he is said to bedeveloping magnificently; but he wished to know whether it would notbe safer to remove him from the world before his arrival, for, ifnecessary, he could give up meeting him. If he should discover hisfather's identity, it might easily fill him with vanity, and inVillagarcia he was learning to prize knightly achievements above theservice of the Most High. It would not do to leave him in the world;unpleasant things might come from it. As King Philip's sole heir was thesickly Don Carlos----"
"His son Geronimo might aspire to the crown," interrupted Granvelle. "Heexpressed the same doubts to me also. What I heard of the childinduced me to plead that he might be allowed to grow up in the worlduntrammelled. If any one understands how to defend himself againstunauthorized demands, it is Don Philip."
"So I, too, think, and advised," replied Viglius. "Poor boy! His fatherof late holds on to thalers more than anxiously and, if I am correctlyinformed, the education of his son has hitherto cost his Majesty no moreexpense than the maintenance of the mother. Wise economy, your Eminence!Or what shall it be called?"
"As you choose," replied the bishop in an irritated tone. "What do youknow about the boy's mother?"
"Nothing," replied the Frieslander, "except what my friend Mathys toldme lately. He said that before she lost her voice she was a perfectnightingale. She might recover it at Ems, and so the leech proposed tothe Emperor to give her a sum of money for this purpose."
"And his Majesty?" asked Granvelle.
"Remained faithful to his habit of not sullying his reputation byextravagance," replied the Frieslander, laughing.
"Suffering, misfortune!" sighed Granvelle. "As a long period of rainproduces fungi in the woods, so this terrible pair calls to life onepettiness after another in the rare man in whom once every trait ofcharacter was great and glorious. I knew the boy's mother. Many thingsmight be said of her, among them good, nay, the best ones. As tothe boy, his Majesty informed Don Philip of his existence. It was inAugsburg. He does not seem at all suited for the monastic life, andtherefore I shall continue to strive to preserve him from it."
"And if his Majesty decides otherwise?"
"Then, of course--" answered Granvelle, shrugging his shoulders. "Butthe draught must be composed, and there are more important matters forus to discuss."
As he spoke he rang the bell on the table at his side, and Hannibalobeyed his master's summons. In doing so he passed Barbara, who startedas if bewildered when she heard him approach.
He went up to her in great surprise, but ere he could utter the firstwords she clutched his arm, whispering: "I am going, Hannibal. HisEminence did not entirely forget me. If he can receive me, send word tomy house."
Scarcely able to control herself, Barbara set out on her way home.The words she had heard had shaken the depths of her soul like anearthquake.
The news that Charles intended to confine in a monastery the boy whomshe had given up to him that he might bestow upon him whatever laywithin his imperial power poisoned her joy in the future. How often thisman lead inflicted bleeding wounds upon her heart! Now he trampled itunder his cruel feet. Two convictions had lent her the strength notto despair: she felt sure that his love for her could never have beenextinguished had the power of her art aided her to warm Charles's heart,and she was still more positive that the father would raise to splendourand magnificence the boy whom she had given him.
And now?
He had refused the leech's request to help her regain the divine gift towhich, according to his own confession, he owed the purest joys; andher strong, merry child he, its own father, condemned to disappear andwither in the imprisonment of a cloister. This must not be, and on herway home she formed plan after plan to prevent it.
Pyramus attributed her sometimes depressed, sometimes irritable mannerto the disappointment of her wish.
What she had just learned and had had inflicted upon her filled her withhatred of life.
Her two boys scarcely dared to approach their mother, who, unlike herusual self, harshly rebuffed them.
At twilight Hannibal Melas appeared, full of joyous excitement.Granvelle sent Barbara word that the doorkeeper Mangin would show her agood seat. His Eminence desired to be remembered to her, and said thatonly those who had been closely associated with his Majesty would beadmitted to this ceremony, and he knew that she ranked among the firstof these.
Barbara's features brightened and, as she saw how happy it made theMaltese to be the bearer of so pleasant a message, she forced herself togive a joyous expression to her gratitude. In the evening, and duringa sleepless night, she considered whether she should make use ofthe invitation. What she had expected for herself and her child fromCharles's abdication had been mere chimeras of the brain, and what couldthis spectacle offer her? She would only behold with her eyes whatshe had often enough imagined with the utmost distinctness--the greatmonarch divested of his grandeur and all his dignities.
But Granvelle's message that she was one cf those who stood nearest tothe abdicating sovereign constantly echoed in her ears, and her absencefrom this ceremony would have seemed to her unnatural--nay, an offenceagainst something necessary.
Her husband was pleased with the great minister's kindness to his wife.He had nothing to do in the palace, but he intended to look for thechildren, who had gone there before noon with Frau Lamperi, that theymight get the best possible view of the approach of the princes anddignitaries.
Barbara herself was to use a litter. The ex-'garde-robiere' had helpedher put on her gala attire, and Pyramus assured his wife that everyone would consider her the handsomest and most elegant lady in thegalleries. She knew that he was right, and listened with pleasure,deeply as resentment and disappointment burdened her soul.
Then the knocker on t
he door rapped. The litter-bearers had probablycome. But no! The Flemish maid, who had opened the door, announced thata messenger was waiting outside with a letter which he could deliveronly to the master or the mistress.
Pyramus went into the entry, and his long absence was already makingBarbara uneasy, when he returned with bowed head and, after many wordsof preparation, informed her that her father was very ill and, finally,that apoplexy had put a swift and easy end to his life.
Then a great and genuine grief seized upon her with all its power.Everything that the simple-hearted, lovable man, who had guardedher child hood so tenderly and her girlhood with such solicitude anddevotion, had been to her, returned to her memory in all its vividness.In him she had lost the last person whose right to judge her conduct sheacknowledged, the only one whom she had good reason to be sure cared forher welfare as much as, nay, perhaps more than, his own.
The litter, Granvelle's message, the Emperor's abdication ceremony,everything that had just wounded, angered, and disturbed her, wasforgotten.
She gently refused the consolation of her husband, who in the captainhad lost a dear friend and sincerely mourned his death, and entreatedhim to leave her alone; but when her sons returned and joyouslydescribed the magnificent spectacle on which they had feasted their eyesoutside of the palace, she drew them toward her with special tenderness,and tried to make them understand that they would never again see thegood grandfather who had loved them all so dearly.
But the older boy, Conrad, only gazed at her wonderingly, and asked whyshe was weeping; and the younger one did not understand her at all,and went on talking about the big soldier who wanted to lift him on hispiebald horse. To the child death is only slumber, and life being awaketo new games and pleasures.
Barbara said this to her husband when he wished to check the merrylaughter of the little ones, and then went to her chamber.
There she strove to think of the dead man, and she succeeded, but withthe memory of the sturdy old hero constantly blended the image of thefeeble man who to-day was voluntarily surrendering all the gifts offortune which she--oh, how willingly! would have received for the sonwhom he desired to withdraw from the world.
The next morning Hannibal Melas came to ask what had kept her from theceremony. He learned it in the entry from Frau Lamperi, and Barbara'stearful eyes showed him what deep sorrow this loss had caused her. Herwhole manner expressed quiet melancholy. This great, pure grief had comejust at the right time, flowing, like oil upon the storm-lashed waves,over hatred, resentment, and all the passionate emotions by which shehad previously been driven to the verge of despair.
She did not repulse the witness of her lost happiness, and listenedattentively while Hannibal told her about the memorable ceremony whichhe had attended.
True, his description of the lofty hall in the Brabant palace where ittook place, the chapel adjoining it, and the magnificent decorations offlowers and banners that adorned it, told nothing new to Barbara. Shewas familiar with both, and had seen them garlanded, adorned with flagsand coats of arms, and even witnessed the erection of the stage in thehall and the stretching of the canopy above it.
The Emperor had appeared upon the platform at the stroke of three,leaning upon his crutch and the shoulder of William of Orange. His sonPhilip and the Queen of Hungary followed, and all took their seatsupon the gilded thrones awaiting them. The blithe, pleasant ArchdukeMaximilian of Austria, the Duke of Savoy, who was expecting a greatwinning card in the game of luck of his changeful life, the Knightsof the Golden Fleece, and the highest of the Netherland nobles, thecouncillors, the governor, and the principal military officers also hadplaces upon the stage.
Barbara knew every name that Hannibal mentioned. It seemed as if she sawthe broken-down Emperor, his son Philip with his head haughtily thrownback, his favourite, the omnipotent minister, Ruy Gomez, the Princeof Eboli, who with his coal-black hair and beard would have resembledQuijada if, instead of the soldierly frankness of the major-domo, anuneasy, questioning expression had not lurked in his dark eyes, thebrilliant Bishop of Arras, who had again so kindly placed her underobligation to him, and the Frieslander Viglius, who had dropped into hersoul the wormwood whose bitterness she still tasted, and whose motto,"The life of mortals is a watch in the night," seemed to flash from hisgreen eyes. Not a single woman had been admitted to the distinguishedassembly of the States-General, the city magistrates, and illustriousinvited guests, who as spectators sat on benches and chairs oppositeto the stage, and this placed the kindness of Granvelle, whom theNetherland dignitaries were said to detest, in a still brighter light.
The ceremony had been opened by the great speech of Philibert ofBrussels, which the young Maltese described as a masterpiece of thefinest rhetorical art. At the close of this address a solemn silencepervaded the hall, for the Emperor Charles had risen to take leave ofhis faithful subjects.
One might have heard a leaf fall, a spicier walk, as, supported by thearm of William of Orange, he raised the notes of his address and beganto read.
At this information Barbara remembered how Maurice of Saxony hadsupported the Emperor at the May festival at Prebrunn. William ofOrange, too, was still young. She had often seen him, and what deepearnestness rested on his noble brow! how open and pure was the glanceof his clear eyes, yet how penetrating and inexorably keen it could alsobe! She had noticed this at the assembly of the Knights of the GoldenFleece, when he looked at King Philip with bitter hate or certainly withdislike and scorn. Was this man chosen to avenge Charles's sins upon hisson and heir? Could the Prince of Orange be destined to deal with thenew king as Maurice of Saxony had treated his imperial father? Would theresentment which, since the day before, had again filled her soul havepermitted her to prevent it had she possessed the power?
The Emperor's speech had treated of his broken health and the necessityof living in a milder climate. Then Don Philip had been described by hisfather as a successor whose wisdom equalled his experience. This calleda smile to Barbara's lips.
Philip was said to be an industrious, devout man, fond ofletter-writing, and full of intrigue, but only his father would ventureto compare him with himself, with Charles V.
He, the son, probably knew how vacant and lustreless his eyes were, forhe usually fixed them on the ground; and what fulness of life, what afiery soul had sparkled only a short time ago, when she saw him in thedistance, from those of the man whom she certainly was not disposed toflatter!
Then the Emperor had reviewed his whole reign, mentioned how many warshe had waged, how many victories he had won and, finally, had remindedhis son of the gratitude he owed a father who during his lifetimebestowed all his possessions upon him and, as it were, descended intothe grave in order to make him earlier the heir of all his power andwealth.
Now Barbara fancied that again--she knew not for what hundredthtime--the Frieslander's exclamation, "Debts! debts!" rang in her ears,and at the same time she thought of the boy in Spain who had here beendisinherited, and must be hidden in a monastery that the other sonof the same father, the diminutive upstart Philip, puffed up witharrogance, might sleep more quietly. For one son the unjust man whom sheloved was ready to die before his last hour came, in order to give himall that he possessed; for the other he could find nothing save a monk'scowl. Instead of the yearning for John, of which Wolf had spoken andshe, blind fool, believed, he thought of him with petty fears of theclaims by which he might injure his favoured brother. No warm impulseof paternal tenderness stirred the breast of the man whose heart washardened, who understood how to divest himself of the warmest love as henow cast aside the crown and the purple of royalty.
These torturing thoughts so powerfully affected Barbara that she onlyhalf heard what Hannibal was saying about the Emperor's admonition tohis son to hold fast to justice, law, and the Catholic Church. But whenGranvelle's faithful follower, in an agitated tone, went on to relatehow Charles had besought the forgiveness of Providence for all the sinsand errors which he had committed, and added that he w
ould remember allwho had rendered him happy by their love and obedience in every prayerwhich he addressed to the Being to whom the remnant of his life shouldbe devoted, the ex-singer's breath came quicker, her small handsclinched, and the question whether she had failed in love and obediencebefore he basely cast her off forced itself upon her mind, and with itthe other, whether he would also include in his prayers her whom he hadill-treated and mortally insulted.
These thoughts lent her features so gloomy an expression that it wouldhave offended the Emperor Charles's ardent admirer if he had noticed it.But the scene which, with tears in his eyes, he now described absorbedhis attention so completely that he forgot everything around him and,as it were, gazed into his own soul while picturing to himself and hislistener how the monarch, with a pallid, ashen countenance, had sunkback upon his throne and wept like a child.
At this spectacle the whole assembly, even the sternest old general, hadbeen overwhelmed by deep emotion, and the spacious hall echoed with thesobs and groans of graybeards, middle-aged men and youths, warriors andstatesmen.
Here the young man's voice failed and, weeping, with unfeigned emotionhe covered his agitated face with his handkerchief.
When he regained his composure he saw, with a shade of disappointment,that Barbara's eyes had remained dry during the description of an eventin which he himself and so many stronger men had shed burning tears.
Yet, when Barbara was again alone she could not drive from her mind theimage of her broken-down, weeping lover. Doubtless she often felt movedto think of him with deep pity; but she soon remembered the conversationto which she had listened in the apartments of the Bishop of Arras, andher belief in the genuineness of those tears vanished.