Frederick the Great and His Family [249]
the marquis asked her to make a full disclosure, she seemed suddenly to see Ranuzi's handsome face before her; he looked softly, reproachfully at her with his great fathomless eyes, whose glance she ever felt in the very depths of her heart; she was conscious that the old love was again awake in her, and by its mighty power crowding out the passion of revenge. A lingering hesitation and faint-heartedness overcame her--confused and stammering, she said she would only confide her secret to the king himself, or to that person whom the king would authorize to receive it.
The marquis, in a vivacious manner, pressed her to speak, and made conjectures as to the quality of her secret. Marietta found herself involved in a net of cross-questions and answers, and took refuge at last in absolute silence. She rose and told the marquis she would return in eight days, to know whom the king had selected to receive her communication.
The eight clays had now passed, and Marietta had, during this time, many struggles with her own heart--her ever newly awakening love pleaded eloquently for forgiveness--for the relinquishment of all her plans of vengeance. [Footnote: The marquis, in one of his letters to the king, described his interview with Madame Taliazuchi, with great vivacity and minuteness, and expressed his own suspicions and conjectures; which, indeed, came very near the truth, and proved that, where he was warmly interested, he was a good inquisitor. He entreated Frederick not to look upon the matter carelessly, as in all probability there was treason on foot, which extended to Vienna. Madame Taliazuchi had much intercourse in Berlin with the captive Italian officers, and it might be that one of these officers was carrying on a dangerous correspondence with Vienna. In closing his letter, the marquis said: "Enfin, sire, quand il serait vrai que tout ceci ne fut qu'une bete italienne qui so serait echauffee, et qui aurait pris des chimeres pour des verites, ce qui pourrait encore bien etre, cette femme ne parait rien moins que prudente et tranquille. Je crois, cependant, que la peine qu'on aurait prise de savoir ce qu'elle veut declarer serait si legere, qu'on ne la regretterait pas, quand meme on decouvrirait que cette femme n'est qu'une folle."--"Oeuvres de Frederic le Grand," vol. xix. p. 91.] She had almost resolved not to seek the marquis again, or if she did so, to say that she had been deceived--that the secret was nothing-- that she had only been bantered and mystified. But now, all these softer, milder feelings seemed burnt out in the wild fire of revenge and scorn which blazed through her whole being. "He is a traitor--a shameless liar!" she said, pressing her small teeth firmly and passionately together; "he is a coward, and has not the courage to look a woman in the face and confess the truth when she demands it; he is a perjurer, for he took the oath which I exacted from him--he swore to love me alone and no other woman; he had the impudent courage to call down the vengeance of God upon himself if he should break this oath. Why do I hesitate longer?" cried she, springing from her seat; "the perjured traitor deserves that my betrayed and crushed heart should avenge itself. He called down the vengeance of God upon himself. Let it crush him to atoms!"
Now all was decision, courage, energy, and circumspection. She took the two letters she had received from Ranuzi and concealed them in her bosom, then dressed herself and left her dwelling.
With a firm step she passed through the streets which led to the castle. As she drew near the house of Madame du Trouffle, she hesitated, stood still, and looked up at the windows.
"If only this once he did not deceive me! If he is not here; if he told me the truth!" His countenance had been so open, so calm, so smiling when he said to her that he had a rendezvous with some friends at the Catholic priest's; and in a graceful, roguish mockery, asked her if she was jealous of that meeting. No, no! this time he was true. He could not have played the hypocrite with such smiling composure.
The marquis, in a vivacious manner, pressed her to speak, and made conjectures as to the quality of her secret. Marietta found herself involved in a net of cross-questions and answers, and took refuge at last in absolute silence. She rose and told the marquis she would return in eight days, to know whom the king had selected to receive her communication.
The eight clays had now passed, and Marietta had, during this time, many struggles with her own heart--her ever newly awakening love pleaded eloquently for forgiveness--for the relinquishment of all her plans of vengeance. [Footnote: The marquis, in one of his letters to the king, described his interview with Madame Taliazuchi, with great vivacity and minuteness, and expressed his own suspicions and conjectures; which, indeed, came very near the truth, and proved that, where he was warmly interested, he was a good inquisitor. He entreated Frederick not to look upon the matter carelessly, as in all probability there was treason on foot, which extended to Vienna. Madame Taliazuchi had much intercourse in Berlin with the captive Italian officers, and it might be that one of these officers was carrying on a dangerous correspondence with Vienna. In closing his letter, the marquis said: "Enfin, sire, quand il serait vrai que tout ceci ne fut qu'une bete italienne qui so serait echauffee, et qui aurait pris des chimeres pour des verites, ce qui pourrait encore bien etre, cette femme ne parait rien moins que prudente et tranquille. Je crois, cependant, que la peine qu'on aurait prise de savoir ce qu'elle veut declarer serait si legere, qu'on ne la regretterait pas, quand meme on decouvrirait que cette femme n'est qu'une folle."--"Oeuvres de Frederic le Grand," vol. xix. p. 91.] She had almost resolved not to seek the marquis again, or if she did so, to say that she had been deceived--that the secret was nothing-- that she had only been bantered and mystified. But now, all these softer, milder feelings seemed burnt out in the wild fire of revenge and scorn which blazed through her whole being. "He is a traitor--a shameless liar!" she said, pressing her small teeth firmly and passionately together; "he is a coward, and has not the courage to look a woman in the face and confess the truth when she demands it; he is a perjurer, for he took the oath which I exacted from him--he swore to love me alone and no other woman; he had the impudent courage to call down the vengeance of God upon himself if he should break this oath. Why do I hesitate longer?" cried she, springing from her seat; "the perjured traitor deserves that my betrayed and crushed heart should avenge itself. He called down the vengeance of God upon himself. Let it crush him to atoms!"
Now all was decision, courage, energy, and circumspection. She took the two letters she had received from Ranuzi and concealed them in her bosom, then dressed herself and left her dwelling.
With a firm step she passed through the streets which led to the castle. As she drew near the house of Madame du Trouffle, she hesitated, stood still, and looked up at the windows.
"If only this once he did not deceive me! If he is not here; if he told me the truth!" His countenance had been so open, so calm, so smiling when he said to her that he had a rendezvous with some friends at the Catholic priest's; and in a graceful, roguish mockery, asked her if she was jealous of that meeting. No, no! this time he was true. He could not have played the hypocrite with such smiling composure.