THE PHILOSOPHER IN THE APPLE ORCHARD
It was a charmingly mild and balmy day. The sun shone beyond theorchard, and the shade was cool inside. A light breeze stirred theboughs of the old apple-tree under which the philosopher sat. None ofthese things did the philosopher notice, unless it might be when thewind blew about the leaves of the large volume on his knees, and he hadto find his place again. Then he would exclaim against the wind,shuffle the leaves till he got the right page, and settle to hisreading. The book was a treatise on ontology; it was written by anotherphilosopher, a friend of this philosopher's; it bristled withfallacies, and this philosopher was discovering them all, and notingthem on the fly-leaf at the end. He was not going to review the book(as some might have thought from his behavior), or even to answer it ina work of his own. It was just that he found a pleasure in strippingany poor fallacy naked and crucifying it. Presently a girl in a whitefrock came into the orchard. She picked up an apple, bit it, and foundit ripe. Holding it in her hand, she walked up to where the philosophersat, and looked at him. He did not stir. She took a bite out of theapple, munched it, and swallowed it. The philosopher crucified afallacy on the fly-leaf. The girl flung the apple away.
"Mr. Jerningham," said she, "are you very busy?"
The philosopher, pencil in hand, looked up.
"No, Miss May," said he, "not very."
"Because I want your opinion."
"In one moment," said the philosopher, apologetically.
He turned back to the fly-leaf and began to nail the last fallacy alittle tighter to the cross. The girl regarded him, first with amusedimpatience, then with a vexed frown, finally with a wistful regret. Hewas so very old for his age, she thought; he could not be much beyondthirty; his hair was thick and full of waves, his eyes bright andclear, his complexion not yet divested of all youth's relics.
"Now, Miss May, I'm at your service," said the philosopher, with alingering look at his impaled fallacy; and he closed the book, keepingit, however, on his knee.
The girl sat down just opposite to him.
"It's a very important thing I want to ask you," she began, tugging ata tuft of grass, "and it's very--difficult, and you mustn't tell anyone I asked you; at least, I'd rather you didn't."
"I shall not speak of it; indeed, I shall probably not remember it,"said the philosopher.
"And you mustn't look at me, please, while I'm asking you."
"I don't think I was looking at you, but if I was I beg your pardon,"said the philosopher, apologetically.
She pulled the tuft of grass right out of the ground, and flung it fromher with all her force.
"Suppose a man--" she began. "No, that's not right."
"You can take any hypothesis you please," observed the philosopher,"but you must verify it afterward, of course."
"Oh, do let me go on. Suppose a girl, Mr. Jerningham--I wish youwouldn't nod."
"It was only to show that I followed you."
"Oh, of course you 'follow me', as you call it. Suppose a girl had twolovers--you're nodding again--or, I ought to say, suppose there weretwo men who might be in love with a girl."
"Only two?" asked the philosopher. "You see, any number of men might bein love with--
"Oh, we can leave the rest out," said Miss May, with a sudden dimple;"they don't matter."
"Very well," said the philosopher, "if they are irrelevant we will putthem aside."
"Suppose, then, that one of these men was, oh, _awfully_ in love withthe girl, and--and proposed, you know--"
"A moment!" said the philosopher, opening a note-book. "Let me takedown his proposition. What was it?"
"Why, proposed to her--asked her to marry him," said the girl, with astare.
"Dear me! How stupid of me! I forgot that special use of the word.Yes?"
"The girl likes him pretty well, and her people approve of him, and allthat, you know."
"That simplifies the problem," said the philosopher, nodding again.
"But she's not in--in love with him, you know. She doesn't really carefor him--much. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly. It is a most natural state of mind."
"Well then, suppose that there's another man--what are you writing?"
"I only put down (B)--like that," pleaded the philosopher, meeklyexhibiting his note-book.
She looked at him in a sort of helpless exasperation, with just a smilesomewhere in the background of it.
"Oh, you really are--" she exclaimed. "But let me go on. The other manis a friend of the girl's: he's very clever--oh, fearfully clever--andhe's rather handsome. You needn't put that down."
"It is certainly not very material," admitted the philosopher, and hecrossed out 'handsome'; 'clever' he left.
"And the girl is most awfully--she admires him tremendously; she thinkshim just the greatest man that ever lived, you know. And she--she--"The girl paused.
"I'm following," said the philosopher, with pencil poised.
"She'd think it better than the whole world if--if she could beanything to him, you know."
"You mean become his wife?"
"Well, of course I do--at least, I suppose I do."
"You spoke rather vaguely, you know."
The girl cast one glance at the philosopher as she replied:
"Well, yes; I did mean become his wife."
"Yes. Well?"
"But," continued the girl, starting on another tuft of grass, "hedoesn't think much about those things. He likes her. I think he likesher-"
"Well, doesn't dislike her?" suggested the philosopher. "Shall we callhim indifferent?"
"I don't know. Yes, rather indifferent. I don't think he thinks aboutit, you know. But she--she's pretty. You needn't put that down."
"I was not about to do so," observed the philosopher.
"She thinks life with him would be just heaven; and-and she thinks shewould make him awfully happy. She would-would be so proud of him, yousee."
"I see. Yes?"
"And--I don't know how to put it, quite--she thinks that if he everthought about it at all he might care for her; because he doesn't carefor anybody else, and she's pretty--"
"You said that before."
"Oh dear, I dare say I did. And most men care for somebody, don't they?Some girl, I mean."
"Most men, no doubt," conceded the philosopher.
"Well then, what ought she to do? It's not a real thing, you know, Mr.Jerningham. It's in--in a novel I was reading." She said this hastily,and blushed as she spoke.
"Dear me! And it's quite an interesting case! Yes, I see. The questionis, Will she act most wisely in accepting the offer of the man wholoves her exceedingly, but for whom she entertains only a moderateaffection--"
"Yes; just a liking. He's just a friend."
"Exactly. Or in marrying the other whom she loves ex--"
"That's not it. How can she marry him? He hasn't--he hasn't asked her,you see."
"True; I forgot. Let us assume, though, for the moment, that he hasasked her. She would then have to consider which marriage wouldprobably be productive of the greater sum total of--"
"Oh, but you needn't consider that."
"But it seems the best logical order. We can afterward make allowancefor the element of uncertainty caused by--"
"Oh no; I don't want it like that. I know perfectly well which she'd doif he-the other man you know-asked her."
"You apprehend that--"
"Never mind what I 'apprehend'. Take it as I told you."
"Very good. A has asked her hand, B has not."
"Yes."
"May I take it that, but for the disturbing influence of B, A would bea satisfactory--er--candidate?"
"Ye--es; I think so."
"She therefore enjoys a certainty of considerable happiness if shemarries A?"
"Ye--es; not perfect, because of--B, you know."
"Quite so, quite so; but still a fair amount of happiness. Is it notso?"
"I don't--well, perhaps."
"On
the other hand, if B did ask her, we are to postulate a higherdegree of happiness for her?"
"Yes, please, Mr. Jerningham--much higher."
"For both of them?"
"For her. Never mind him."
"Very well. That again simplifies the problem. But his asking her is acontingency only?"
"Yes, that's all."
The philosopher spread out his hands.
"My dear young lady," he said, "it becomes a question of degree. Howprobable or improbable is it?"
"I don't know; not very probable--unless--"
"Well?"
"Unless he did happen to notice, you know."
"Ah, yes; we supposed that, if he thought of it, he would probably takethe desired step-at least, that he might be led to do so. Could shenot--er--indicate her preference?"
"She might try--no, she couldn't do much. You see, he--he doesn't thinkabout such things."
"I understand precisely. And it seems to me, Miss May, that in thatvery fact we find our solution."
"Do we?" she asked.
"I think so. He has evidently no natural inclination towardher--perhaps not toward marriage at all. Any feeling aroused in himwould be necessarily shallow and, in a measure, artificial, and in alllikelihood purely temporary. Moreover, if she took steps to arouse hisattention one of two things would be likely to happen. Are youfollowing me?"
"Yes, Mr. Jerningham."
"Either he would be repelled by her overtures, which you must admit isnot improbable, and then the position would be unpleasant, and evendegrading, for her; or, on the other hand, he might, through amisplaced feeling of gallantry--"
"Through what?"
"Through a mistaken idea of politeness, or a mistaken view of what waskind, allow himself to be drawn into a connection for which he had nogenuine liking. You agree with me that one or other of these thingswould be likely?"
"Yes, I suppose they would, unless he did come to care for her."
"Ah, you return to that hypothesis. I think it's an extremely fancifulone. No, she need not marry A, but she must let B alone."
The philosopher closed his book, took off his glasses, wiped them,replaced them, and leaned back against the trunk of the apple-tree.The girl picked a dandelion in pieces. After a long pause she asked:
"You think B's feelings wouldn't be at all likely to--to change?"
"That depends on the sort of man he is. But if he is an able man, withintellectual interests which engross him-a man who has chosen his pathin life--a man to whom women's society is not a necessity--"
"He's just like that," said the girl, and she bit the head off a daisy.
"Then," said the philosopher, "I see not the least reason for supposingthat his feelings will change."
"And would you advise her to marry the other--A?"
"Well, on the whole, I should. A is a good fellow (I think we made A agood fellow), he is a suitable match, his love for her is true andgenuine--"
"It's tremendous!"
"Yes--and--er--extreme. She likes him. There is every reason to hopethat her liking will develop into a sufficiently deep and stableaffection. She will get rid of her folly about B, and make A a goodwife. Yes, Miss May, if I were the author of your novel I should makeher marry A, and I should call that a happy ending."
A silence followed. It was broken by the philosopher.
"Is that all you wanted my opinion about, Miss May?" he asked, with hisfinger between the leaves of the treatise on ontology.
"Yes, I think so. I hope I haven't bored you?"
"I've enjoyed the discussion extremely. I had no idea that novelsraised points of such psychological interest. I must find time to readone."
The girl had shifted her position till, instead of her full face, herprofile was turned toward him. Looking away toward the paddock that laybrilliant in sunshine on the skirts of the apple orchard, she asked inlow slow tones, twisting her hands in her lap:
"Don't you think that perhaps if B found out afterward-when she hadmarried A, you know--that she had cared for him so very, very much, hemight be a little sorry?"
"If he were a gentleman he would regret it deeply."
"I mean--sorry on his own account; that--that he had thrown away allthat, you know?"
The philosopher looked meditative.
"I think," he pronounced, "that it is very possible he would. I canwell imagine it."
"He might never find anybody to love him like that again," she said,gazing on the gleaming paddock.
"He probably would not," agreed the philosopher.
"And--and most people like being loved, don't they?"
"To crave for love is an almost universal instinct, Miss May."
"Yes, almost," she said, with a dreary little smile. "You see, he'llget old, and-and have no one to look after him."
"He will."
"And no home."
"Well, in a sense, none," corrected the philosopher, smiling. "Butreally you'll frighten me. I'm a bachelor myself, you know, Miss May."
"Yes," she whispered, just audibly.
"And all your terrors are before me."
"Well, unless--"
"Oh, we needn't have that 'unless'," laughed the philosopher,cheerfully. "There's no 'unless' about it, Miss May."
The girl jumped to her feet; for an instant she looked at thephilosopher. She opened her lips as if to speak, and at the thought ofwhat lay at her tongue's tip her face grew red. But the philosopher wasgazing past her, and his eyes rested in calm contemplation on thegleaming paddock.
"A beautiful thing, sunshine, to be sure," said he.
Her blush faded away into paleness; her lips closed. Without speaking,she turned and walked slowly away, her head drooping. The philosopherheard the rustle of her skirt in the long grass of the orchard; hewatched her for a few moments.
"A pretty, graceful creature," said he, with a smile. Then he openedhis book, took his pencil in his hand, and slipped in a carefulforefinger to mark the fly-leaf.
The sun had passed mid-heaven and began to decline westward before hefinished the book. Then he stretched himself and looked at his watch.
"Good gracious, two o'clock! I shall be late for lunch!" and he hurriedto his feet.
He was very late for lunch.
"Everything's cold," wailed his hostess. "Where have you been, Mr.Jerningham?"
"Only in the orchard--reading."
"And you've missed May!"
"Missed Miss May? How do you mean? I had a long talk with her thismorning-a most interesting talk."
"But you weren't here to say good-by. Now you don't mean to say thatyou forgot that she was leaving by the two-o'clock train? What a manyou are!"
"Dear me! To think of my forgetting it!" said the philosopher,shamefacedly.
"She told me to say good-bye to you for her."
"She's very kind. I can't forgive myself."
His hostess looked at him for a moment; then she sighed, and smiled,and sighed again.
"Have you everything you want?" she asked.
"Everything, thank you," said he, sitting down opposite the cheese, andpropping his book (he thought he would just run through the lastchapter again) against the loaf; "everything in the world that I want,thanks."
His hostess did not tell him that the girl had come in from the appleorchard and run hastily upstairs, lest her friend should see what herfriend did see in her eyes. So that he had no suspicion at all that hehad received an offer of marriage-and refused it. And he did not referto anything of that sort when he paused once in his reading andexclaimed:
"I'm really sorry I missed Miss May. That was an interesting case ofhers. But I gave the right answer; the girl ought to marry A."
And so the girl did.
THE DECREE OF DUKE DEODONATO
"It is a most anxious thing--to be an absolute ruler," said DukeDeodonato, "but I have made up my mind. The Doctor has convinced me(here Dr. Fusbius, Ph.D., bowed very low) that marriage is the best,noblest, wholesomest, and happiest of human con
ditions."
"Your Highness will remember--" began the President of the Council.
"My lord, I have made up my mind," said Duke Deodonato.
Thus speaking, the Duke took a large sheet of foolscap paper, and wroterapidly for a moment or two.
"There," he said, pushing the paper over to the President, "is thedecree."
"The decree, sir?"
"I think three weeks afford ample space," said Duke Deodonato.
"Three weeks, sir?"
"For every man over twenty-one years of age in this Duchy to findhimself a wife."
"Your Highness," observed Dr. Fusbius with deference, "will considerthat between an abstract proposition and a practical measure--"
"There is to the logical mind no stopping-place," interrupted DukeDeodonato.
"But, sir," cried the President, "imagine the consternation whichthis--!"
"Let it be gazetted to-night," said Duke Deodonato.
"I would venture," said the President, "to remind your Highness thatyou are yourself a bachelor."
"Laws," said Duke Deodonato, "do not bind the Crown unless the Crown isexpressly mentioned."
"True, sir; but I humbly conceive that it would be pessimi exempli--"
"You are right; I will marry myself," said Duke Deodonato.
"But, sir, three weeks! The hand of a princess cannot be requested andgranted in--"
"Then find me somebody else," said Deodonato; "and pray leave me. Iwould be alone;" and Duke Deodonato waved his hand to the door.
Outside the door the President said to the Doctor,
"I could wish, sir, that you had not convinced his Highness."
"My lord," rejoined the Doctor, "truth is my only preoccupation."
"Sir," said the President, "are you married?"
"My lord," answered the Doctor, "I am not."
"I thought not," said the President, as he folded up the decree, andput it in his pocket.
It is useless to deny that Duke Deodonato's decree caused considerabledisturbance in the Duchy. In the first place, the Crown lawyers raiseda puzzle of law. Did the word 'man' as used in the decree, include'woman'?
The President shook his head, and referred the question to his Highness.
"It seems immaterial," observed the Duke. "If a man marries, a womanmarries."
"Ex vi terminorum," assented the Doctor.
"But, sir," said the President, "there are more women than men in theDuchy."
Duke Deodonato threw down his pen. "This is very provoking," said he."Why was it allowed? I'm sure it happened before _I_ came to thethrone."
The Doctor was about to point out that it could hardly have beenguarded against, when the President (who was a better courtier)anticipated him.
"We did not foresee that your Highness, in your Highness's wisdom,would issue this decree," he said humbly.
"True," said Duke Deodonato, who was a just man.
"Would your Highness vouchsafe any explanation--?"
"What are the Judges for?" asked Duke Deodonato. "There is the law--letthem interpret it."
Whereupon the Judges held that a 'man' was not a 'woman' and thatalthough every man must marry, no woman need.
"It will make no difference," said the President.
"None at all," said Dr. Fusbius.
Nor, perhaps, would it, seeing that women are ever kind, and in no wayby nature averse from marriage, had it not become known that DukeDeodonato himself intended to choose a wife from the ladies of his owndominions, and to choose her (according to the advice of Dr. Fusbius,who, in truth, saw little whither his counsel would in the end carrythe Duke) without regard to such adventitious matters as rank orwealth, and purely for her beauty, talent, and virtue. Which resolvebeing proclaimed, straightway all the ladies of the Duchy, ofwhatsoever station, calling, age, appearance, wit, or character,conceiving each of them that she, and no other, should become theDuchess, sturdily refused all offers of marriage (although they weremany of them as desperately enamored as virtuous ladies may be), anddid nought else than walk, drive, ride, and display their charms in thepark before the windows of the ducal palace. And thus it fell out thatwhen a week had gone by, no man had obeyed Duke Deodonato's decree, andthey were, from sheer want of brides, like to fall into contempt of thelaw and under the high displeasure of the Duke.
Upon this the President and Dr. Fusbius sought audience of hisHighness, and humbly laid before him the unforeseen obstacle which hadoccurred.
"Woman is ever ambitious," said Dr. Fusbius.
"Nay," corrected the President, "they have seen his Highness's personas his Highness has ridden through the city."
Duke Deodonato threw down his pen.
"This is very tiresome," said he, knitting his brows. "My lord, I wouldbe further advised on this matter. Return at the same hour to-morrow."
The next day Duke Deodonato's forehead had regained its customarysmoothness, and his manner was tranquil and assured.
"Our pleasure is," said he to the President, "that, albeit no womanshall be compelled to marry if so be that she be not invited thereunto;yet, if bidden, she shall in no wise refuse, but straightway espousethat man who first after the date of these presents shall solicit herhand."
The President bowed in admiration.
"It is, if I may humbly say so, a practical and wise solution, sir," hesaid.
"I apprehend that it will remedy the mischief," said Duke Deodonato,not ill-pleased.
And doubtless it would have had an effect as altogether satisfactory,excellent, beneficial, salutary, and universal as the wisdom of DukeDeodonato had anticipated from it, had it not fallen out that, on thepromulgation of the decree, all the aforesaid ladies of the Duchy, ofwhatsoever station, calling, age, appearance, wit, or character,straightway, and so swiftly that no man had time wherein to pay hiscourt to them, fled to and shut and bottled and barricaded themselvesin houses, castles, cupboards, cellars, stables, lofts, churches,chapels, chests, and every other kind of receptacle whatsoever, andthere remained beyond reach of any man, be he whom he would, lest haplyone, coming, should ask their hand in marriage, and thus they shouldlose all prospect of wedding the Duke.
When Duke Deodonato was apprised of this lamentable action on the partof the ladies of the Duchy, he frowned and laid down his pen.
"This is very annoying," said he. "There appears to be a dispositionto thwart Our endeavors for the public good."
"It is gross contumacy," said Dr. Fusbius.
"Yet," remarked the President, "inspired by a natural, ifill-disciplined, admiration for his Highness's person."
"The decree is now a fortnight old," observed Duke Deodonato. "Leaveme, I will consider further of this matter."
Now even as his Highness spoke a mighty uproar arose under the palacewindows, and Duke Deodonato, looking out of the window (which, be itremembered, but for the guidance of Heaven he might not have done),beheld a maiden of wonderful charms struggling in the clutches of twohalberdiers of the guard, who were haling her off to prison.
"Bring hither that damsel," said Deodonato.
Presently the damsel, still held by the soldiers, entered the room.Her robe was dishevelled and rent, her golden hair hung loose on hershoulders, and her eyes were full of tears.
"At whose suit is she arrested?" asked Deodonato.
"At the suit of the most learned Dr. Fusbius, may it please yourHighness."
"Sir," said Dr. Fusbius, "it is true. This lady, grossly contemningyour Highness's decree, has refused my hand in marriage."
"Is it true, damsel?" asked Duke Deodonato.
"Hear me, your Highness!" answered she "I left my dwelling but aninstant, for we were in sore straits for--"
"Bread?" asked Deodonato, a touch of sympathy in his voice.
"May it please your Highness, no--pins wherewith to fasten our hair.And, as I ran to the merchant's, this aged man--"
"I am but turned of fifty," interrupted Fusbius.
"And have not yet learnt silence?" asked Deodon
ato severely. "Damsel,proceed!"
"Caught me by my gown as I ran and--"
"I proposed marriage to her," said Fusbius.
"Nay, if you proposed marriage, she shall marry you," said Deodonato."By the crown of my fathers, she shall marry you. But what said he,damsel?"
"May it please your Highness, he said that I had the prettiest face inall the Duchy, and that he would have no wife but me; and thereupon hekissed me; and I would have none of him, and I struck him and escaped."
"Send for the Judges," said Duke Deodonato. "And meanwhile keep thisdamsel and let no man propose marriage to her until Our pleasure beknown."
Now when the Judges were come, and the maiden was brought in and setover against them on the right hand, and the learned Doctor took hisstand on the left, Deodonato prayed the Judges that they would perpendcarefully and anxiously of the question--using all lore, research,wisdom, discretion, and justice--whether Dr. Fusbius had proposedmarriage unto the maiden or no.
"Thus shalt Our mind be informed, and We shall deal profitably withthis matter," concluded Duke Deodonato.
Upon which arose great debate. For there was one part of the learnedmen which leant upon the letter and found no invitation to marriage inthe words of Dr. Fusbius; while another part would have it that in allthings the spirit and mind of the utterer must be regarded, and thatit sorted not with the years, virtues, learning, and position of thesaid most learned Doctor to suppose that he had spoken such words andsealed the same with a kiss, save under the firm impression, thought,and conviction that he was offering his hand in marriage; which saidimpression, thought, and conviction were fully and reasonably declaredand evident in his actions, manner, bearing, air, and conduct.
"This is very perplexing," said Duke Deodonato, and he knit his brows;for as he gazed upon the beauty of the damsel, it seemed to him a thingunnatural, undesirable, unpalatable, unpleasant, and unendurable, thatshe should wed Dr. Fusbius. Yet if such were the law--Duke Deodonatosighed, and he glanced at the damsel: and it chanced that the damselglanced at Duke Deodonato, and, seeing that he was a proper man andcomely, and that his eye spoke his admiration of her, she blushed; andher cheek that had gone white when those of the Judges who favored thelearned Doctor were speaking, went red as a rose again, and she stroveto order her hair and to conceal the rent that was in her robe. AndDuke Deodonato sighed again.
"My Lord," he said to the President, "we have heard these wise anderudite men; and, forasmuch as the matter is difficult, they aredivided among themselves, and the staff whereon we leant is broken.Speak, therefore, your mind."
Then the President of the Council looked earnestly at Duke Deodonato,but the Duke veiled his face with his hand.
"Answer truly," said he, "without fear or favor; so shall you fulfilOur pleasure."
And the President, looking round upon the company, said:
"It is, Your Highness, by all reasonable, honest, just, proper, andhonorable intendment, as good, sound, full, and explicit an offer ofmarriage as hath ever been had in this Duchy."
"So be it," said Duke Deodonato; and Dr. Fusbius smiled in triumph,while the maiden grew pale again.
"And," pursued the President, "it binds, controls, and rules every man,woman, and child in these Your Highness's dominions, and hath the forceof law over all."
"So be it," said Deodonato again.
"Saving," added the President, "Your Highness only."
There was a movement among the company.
"For," pursued the President, "by the ancient laws, customs, manners,and observances of the Duchy, no decree or law shall in any waywhatsoever impair, alter, lessen, or derogate from the high rights,powers, and prerogatives of Your Highness, whom may Heaven longpreserve. Although, therefore, it be, by and pursuant to YourHighness's decree, the sure right of every man in this Duchy to beaccepted in marriage of any damsel whom he shall invite thereunto, yetis this right in all respects subject to and controlled by the natural,legal, inalienable, unalterable, and sovereign prerogative of YourHighness to marry what damsel so ever it shall be Your pleasure to bidshare your throne. Hence I, in obedience to Your Highness's commands,pronounce and declare that this damsel is lawfully and irrevocablybound and affianced to the learned Dr. Fusbius, unless and until itshall please Your Highness yourself to demand her hand in marriage. Maywhat I have spoken please Your Highness." And the President sat down.
Duke Deodonato sat awhile in thought, and there was silence in thehall. Then he spoke:
"Let all withdraw, saving the damsel only."
And they one and all withdrew, and Duke Deodonato was left alone withthe damsel.
Then he arose and gazed long on the damsel; but the damsel would notlook on Duke Deodonato.
"How are you called, lady?" asked Duke Deodonato.
"I am called Dulcissima," said she.
"Well named!" said Deodonato softly, and he went to the damsel, and helaid his hand, full gently, on her robe, and he said, "Dulcissima, youhave the prettiest face in all the Duchy, and I will have no wife butyou;" and Duke Deodonato kissed the damsel.
The damsel forbore to strike Duke Deodonato, as she had struck Dr.Fusbius. Again her cheek went red, and again pale, and she said, "I wedno man on compulsion."
"Madam, I am Your Sovereign," said Duke Deodonato; and his eyes were onthe damsel.
"If you were an Archangel--!" cried the damsel.
"Our House is not wont to be scorned of ladies," said Deodonato. "Am Icrooked, or baseborn, or a fool?"
"This day in your Duchy women are slaves, and men their masters by yourwill," said she.
"It is the order of nature," said Deodonato.
"It is not my pleasure," said the damsel.
Then Deodonato laid his hand on his silver bell, for he was very angry.
"Fusbius waits without," said he.
"I will wed him and kill him," cried Dulcissima.
Deodonato gazed on her.
"You had no chance of using the pins," said he, "and the rent in yourgown is very sore."
And upon this the eyes of the damsel lost their fire and sought thefloor; and she plucked at her girdle, and would not look on Deodonato.And they said outside, "It is very still in the Hall of the Duke."
Then said Deodonato,
"Dulcissima, what would you?"
"That you repeal your decrees," said she.
Deodonato's brow grew dark; he did not love to go back.
"What I have decreed, I have decreed," said he.
"And what I have resolved, I have resolved," said she.
Deodonato drew near to her.
"And if I repeal the decrees?" said he.
"You will do well," said she.
"And you will wed--?"
"Whom I will," said she.
Deodonato turned to the window, and for a space he looked out; and thedamsel smoothed her hair and drew her robe, where it was whole, acrossthe rent; and she looked on Deodonato as he stood, and her bosom roseand fell. And she prayed a prayer that no man heard or, if he heard,might be so base as to tell. But she saw the dark locks of Deodonato'shair and his form, straight as an arrow and tall as a six-foot wand, inthe window. And again, outside, they said, "It is strangely still inthe Hall of the Duke."
Then Deodonato turned, and he pressed with his hand on the silver bell,and straightway the Hall was filled with the Councillors, the Judges,and the halberdiers, attentive to hear the will of Deodonato and thefate of the damsel. And the small eyes of Fusbius glowed and the calmeyes of the President smiled.
"My Cousins, Gentlemen, and my faithful Guard," said Deodonato, "Time,which is Heaven's mighty Instrument, brings counsel. Say! what the Dukehas done, shall any man undo?"
Then cried they all, save one, "No man!"
And the President said, "Saving the Duke."
"The decrees which I made," said Deodonato, "I unmake. Henceforth letmen and maidens in my Duchy marry or not marry as they will, and Godgive them joy of it."
And all, save Fusbius, cried "Am
en." But Fusbius cried, "Your Highness,it is demonstrated beyond cavil, ay, to the satisfaction of yourHighness--"
"This is very tedious," said Deodonato. "Let him speak no more."
And again he drew near to Dulcissima, and there, before them all, hefell on his knee. And a murmur ran through the hall.
"Madam," said Deodonato, "if you love me, wed me. And, if you love menot, depart in peace and in honor; and I, Deodonato, will live my lifealone."
Then the damsel trembled, and barely did Deodonato catch her words:
"There are many men here," said she.
"It is not given to Princes," said Deodonato, "to be alone.Nevertheless, if you will, leave me alone."
And the damsel bent low, so that the breath of her mouth stirred thehair on Deodonato's head, and he shivered as he knelt.
"My Prince and my King!" said she.
And Deodonato shot to his feet, and before them all he kissed her, and,turning, spoke:
"As I have wooed, let every man in this Duchy woo. As I have won, letevery man that is worthy win. For, unless he so woo, and unless he sowin, vain is his wooing and vain is his winning, and a fig for hiswedding, say I, Deodonato! I, that was Deodonato, and now am--Deodonatoand Dulcissima."
And a great cheer rang out in the Hall, and Fusbius fled to the door;and they tore his gown as he went and cursed him for a knave. But thePresident raised his voice aloud and cried--"May Heaven preserve yourHighnesses--and here's a blessing on all windows!"
And that is the reason why you will find (if you travel there, as Itrust you may, for nowhere are the ladies fairer or the men so gallant)more windows in the Duchy of Deodonato than anywhere in the wide worldbesides. For the more windows, the wider the view; and the wider theview, the more pretty damsels do you see; and the more pretty damselsyou see, the more jocund a thing is life-and that is what the men ofthe Duchy love--and not least Duke Deodonato, whom, with his brideDulcissima, may Heaven long preserve!
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