CHAPTER XXXII.
"She clasped her hands"!--the strife Of love--faith--fear, and the vain dream of life, Within her woman-heart so deeply wrought-- It seemed as if a reed, so slight and weak, _Must_, in the rending storm, not quiver only--break!
MRS. HEMANS.
Isabella's expressive countenance was grave and calm; but it wasimpossible to doubt the firmness of her purpose, though what thatpurpose might be, Marie had no power to read. She stood leaningagainst the back of one of the ponderous chairs; her head bent down,and her heart so loudly and thickly throbbing that it choked her verybreath.
"We have summoned thee hither, Marie," the Queen said at length,gravely, but not severely, "to hear from thine own lips the decisionwhich Father Denis has reported to us; but which, indeed, we canscarcely credit. Wert thou other than thou art--one whose heavy trialsand lovable qualities have bound thee to us with more than commonlove--we should have delivered thee over at once to the judgment ofour holy fathers, and interfered with their sentence no farther. Weare exposing ourselves to priestly censure even for the forbearancealready shown; but we will dare even that, to win thee from thineaccursed creed, and give thee peace and comfort. Marie canst _thou_share the ingratitude--the obstinacy--of thy benighted race, that evenwith thee we must deal harshly? Compel me not to a measure from whichmy whole heart revolts. Do not let me feel that the charge against thypeople is true, without even one exception, and that kindness shown tothem, is unvalued as unfelt."
A convulsive sob was the sole reply. Marie's face was buried in herhands; but the tears were streaming through her slender fingers, andher slight figure shook with the paroxysm.
"Nay, Marie, we ask not tears. We demand the proof of gratefulaffection on thy part; not its weak display. And what is that proof?The acceptance of a faith without which there can be no securityin this life, nor felicity hereafter! The rejection of a fearfullymistaken--terribly accursed--creed; condemning its followers to thescorn and hate of man, and abiding wrath of God."
"'To the scorn and hate of man?' Alas, gracious Sovereign, it iseven so; but not to the 'abiding wrath of God,'" answered Marie,suppressing with a desperate effort, her painful emotion. "The veryscorn and loathing we encounter confirms the blessed truth, of ourhaving been the chosen children of our God, and the glorious promiseof our future restoration. We are enduring now on earth the effects ofthe fearful sins of our ancestors; but for those who live and die trueto His law, there is a future after death laid up with Him; that, howmay we forfeit for transitory joy?"
"If it were indeed so, we would be the last to demand such forfeit,"answered the Queen; "but were it not for the blinding veil of wilfulrejection cast over the eyes and hearts of thy people, thou wouldstknow and feel, that however thy race were _once_ the chosen of God,the distinction has been lost for ever, by their blaspheming rejectionof Jesus and his virgin mother; and the misery--its consequence--onearth, is but a faint type of that misery which is for everlasting. Itis from this we would save thee. Father Denis has brought before theethe solemn truths which our sainted creed advances, in reply to themystifying fallacies of thine; and, he tells me, wholly withouteffect. My arguments, then, can be of such little weight, that I havepledged myself to my confessor to attempt none. We summoned theemerely to tell our decision in this matter; of too vital importanceto be left to other lips. Once more let me ask--and understand theerightly!--have all the Holy Father's lessons failed to convince, evenas all our affection has failed to move, thee?"
"Would--would to Heaven I could believe as thou demandest!" answeredMarie. "Would that those lessons had brought conviction! The bitteragony of your Grace's displeasure--of feeling that, while my heart sothrobs and swells with grateful devotion that I would gladly die toserve thee, yet the proof thou demandest I _cannot_ give; and I mustgo down to an early grave, leaving with thee the sole impression thatthou hadst cherished a miserable ingrate, whom, even as thou hastloved, so thou must now hate and scorn. Oh, madam! try me by otherproof! My creed may be the mistaken one it seems to thee; but, oh!it is no garment we may wear and cast off at pleasure. Have mercy,gracious Sovereign! condemn me not as reprobate--hardened--moreinsensible than the veriest cur, who is grateful for the kindness ofhis master!--because I love my faith better even than thy love--thedearest earthly joy now left me."
"Methinks scarcely the dearest," replied Isabella, affected, in spiteof her every effort for control; "but of that here after. Marie, Ihave pledged myself to my confessor, not to let this matter rest. Hehas told me that my very affection for thee is a snare, and mustbe sacrificed if it interfere with my duty; not alone as member ofChrist's church, but as Sovereign of a Catholic realm, whose boundenduty it is to purge away all heresy and misbelief. I feel that he isright, and, cost what it may, Christ's dictates must be obeyed. Theyears of fraud--of passing for what thou wert not--I forgive, for thynoble husband's sake; but my confessor has told me, and I feel itstruth, that if we allow thy return to thy people as thou art now, wepermit a continuance of such unnatural unions, encourage fraud,and expose our subjects to the poisonous taint of Jewish blood andunbelief. A Christian thou must become. The plan we have decided uponmust bring conviction at last; but it will be attended with suchlong years of mental and physical suffering, that we shrink from thealternative, and only thine own obstinacy will force us to adopt it."
She paused for above a minute; but though Marie's very lips hadblanched, and her large eyes were fixed in terror on the Queen's face,there was no answer.
"Thou hast more than once alluded to death," Isabella continued,her voice growing sterner; "but, though such may be the punishmentdemanded, we cannot so completely banish regard as to expose thy soul,as well as body, to undying flames. Thou hast heard, perchance, ofholy sisterhoods, who, sacrificing all of earthly joys and earthlyties, devote themselves as the willing brides of Christ, and passtheir whole lives in acts of personal penance, mortification,self-denial, and austerity; which to all, save those impelled try thissame lofty enthusiasm, would be unendurable. The convent of St. Ursulais the most strictly rigid and unpitying of this sternly rigid school;and there, if still thou wilt not retract, thou wilt be for lifeimmured, to learn that reverence, that submission, that belief,which thou refusest now. Ponder well on all the suffering which thissentence must comprise. It is even to us--a Christian--so dreadful,that we would not impose it, could we save thy deluded spirit by anyother means. The Abbess, from the strict and terrible discipline oflong years, has conquered every womanly weakness; and to a Jewessplaced under her charge, to be brought a penitent to the bosom ofthe Virgin, is not likely to decrease the severity of treatment anddiscipline, the portion even of her own. Once delivered to her charge,we interfere no further. Whatever she may command--short of actualtorture, or death--thou must endure. Marie! wilt thou tempt a doomlike this? In mercy to thyself, retract ere it be too late!"
"If I can bear the loss of thy favor, my Sovereign, I can bear this,"replied Marie, slowly and painfully. "There is more suffering in thethought, that your Grace's love is lost for ever; that I shall neversee your Highness more; and thou must ever think of me as only awretched, feelingless ingrate, than in all the bodily and mentalanguish such a life may bring."
"Marie!" exclaimed Isabella, with an irrepressible burst of naturalfeeling. And Marie had darted forwards, and was kneeling at her feet,and covering her hand with tears and kisses, ere she had power toforcibly subdue the emotion and speak again.
"This must not be," she said at length; but she did not withdraw thehand which Marie still convulsively clasped, and, half unconsciouslyit seemed, she put back the long, black tresses, which had fallen overher colorless cheek, looked sadly in that bowed face, and kissedher brow. "It is the last," she murmured to herself. "It may bethe effects of sorcery--it may be sin; but if I do penance for theweakness, it must have way."
"Thou hast heard the one alternative," she continued aloud; "now hearthe other. We have thought long, and watched well, some means ofeffectuall
y obliterating the painful memories of the past, and makingthy life as happy as it has been sad. We have asked and receivedpermission from our confessor to bring forward a temporal inducementfor a spiritual end; that even the affections themselves may be madeconducive to turning a benighted spirit from the path of death intothat of life; and, therefore, we may proceed more hopefully. Marie! isthere not a love thou valuest even more than mine? Nay, attempt notto deny a truth, which we have known from the hour we told thee thatArthur Stanley was thy husband's murderer. What meant those wild wordsimploring me to save him? For what was the avowal of thy faith, butthat thy witness should not endanger him? Why didst thou return todanger when safety was before thee?--peril thine own life but to savehis? Answer me truly: thou lovest Stanley, Marie?"
"I have loved him, gracious Sovereign."
"And thou dost no longer? Marie, methinks there would be less wrongin loving now, than when we first suspected it," rejoined the Queen,gravely.
"Alas! my liege, who may school the heart? He was its first--firstaffection! But, oh! my Sovereign, I never wronged my noble husband. Heknew it all ere he was taken from me, and forgave and loved me still;and, oh! had he been but spared, even memory itself would have lostits power to sting. His trust, his love, had made me all--all hisown!"
"I believe thee, my poor child; but how came it that, loving Stanley,thy hand was given to Morales?"
For the first time, the dangerous ground on which she stood flashed onthe mind of Marie; and her voice faltered as she answered--"My fatherwilled it, Madam."
"Thy father! And was he of thy faith, yet gave his child to one ofus?"
"He was dying, Madam, and there was none to protect his Marie. Heloved and admired him to whom he gave me; for Ferdinand had neverscorned nor persecuted us. He had done us such good service that myfather sought to repay him; but he would accept nothing but my hand,and swore to protect my faith--none other would have made suchpromise. I was weak, I know, and wrong; but I dared not then confess Iloved another. And, once his wife, it was sin even to think of Arthur.Oh, Madam! night and day I prayed that we might never meet, till allof love was conquered."
"Poor child," replied Isabella, kindly. "But, since thou wert oncemore free, since Stanley was cleared of even the suspicion of guilt,has no former feeling for him returned! He loves thee, Marie, withsuch faithful love as in man I have seldom seen equalled; why checkaffection now?"
"Alas! my liege, what may a Jewess be to him; or his love to me, saveas the most terrible temptation to estrange me from my God?"
"Say rather to gently lure thee to Him, Marie," replied Isabella,earnestly. "There is a thick veil between thy heart and thy God now;let the love thou bearest this young Englishman be the blessed meansof removing it, and bringing thee to the sole source of salvation, theSaviour Stanley worships. One word--one little word--from thee, andthou shalt be Stanley's wife! His own; dearer than ever from thetrials of the past. Oh! speak it, Marie! Let me feel I have saved theefrom everlasting torment, and made this life--in its deep, calm joy--aforetaste of the heaven that, as a Christian, will await thee above.Spare Stanley--aye, and thy Sovereign--the bitter grief of losing theefor ever!"
"Would--would I could!" burst wildly from the heart-stricken Marie;and she wrung her hands in that one moment of intense agony, andlooked up in the Queen's face, with an expression of sufferingIsabella could not meet. "Would that obedience, conviction, could comeat will! His wife?--Stanley's. To rest this desolate heart on his? Toweep upon his bosom?--feel his arm around me?--his love protect me? Tobe his--all his? And only on condition of speaking one little word?Oh! why can I not speak it? Why will that dread voice sound within,telling me I dare not--cannot--for I do not believe? How dare I takethe Christians's vow, embrace the cross, and in my heart remain aJewess still?"
"Embrace the cross, and conviction will follow," replied the Queen."This question we have asked of Father Tomas, and been assured thatthe vows of baptism once taken, grace will be found from on high; andto the _heart_, as well as _lip_, conversion speedily ensue.Forswear the blaspheming errors of thy present creed--consent to bebaptized--and that very hour sees thee Stanley's wife!"
"No, no, no!--Oh! say not such words again! My liege, my graciousliege, tempt not this weak spirit more!" implored Marie, in fearfulagitation. "Oh! if thou hast ever loved me, in mercy spare me this!"
"In mercy is it that we do thus speak, unhappy girl." repliedIsabella, with returning firmness; for she saw the decisive moment hadcome. "We have laid both alternatives before thee; it rests with theealone to make thine own election. Love on earth and joy in Heaven,depends upon one word: refuse to speak it, and thou knowest thy doom!"
It was well, perhaps, for Marie's firmness, that the Queen's appealingtone had given place to returning severity; it recalled the departingstrength--the sinking energy--the power once more to _endure!_ Forseveral minutes there was no sound: Marie had buried her face in herhands, and remained--half kneeling, half crouching--on the cushion atthe Queen's feet, motionless as stone; and Isabella--internally asagitated as herself--was, under the veil of unbending sternness,struggling for control. The contending emotions sweeping over thatfrail woman-heart in that fearful period of indecision we pretend notto describe: again and again the terrible temptation came, to say butthe desired word, and happiness was hers--such intense happiness, thather brain reeled beneath its thought of ecstasy; and again and againit was driven back by that thrilling voice--louder than ever in itscall--to remain faithful to her God. It was a fearful contest; andwhen she did look up, Isabella started; so terribly was its indexinscribed on those white and chiselled features.
She rose slowly, and stood before the Sovereign, her hands tightlyclasped together, and the veins on her forehead raised like cordsacross it. Three times she tried to speak; but only unintelligiblemurmurs came, and her lips shook as with convulsion. "It is over,"she said at length, and her usually sweet voice sounded harsh andunnatural. "The weakness is conquered, gracious Sovereign, condemn,scorn, hate me as thou wilt, thou must: I must endure it till myheart breaks, and death brings release; but the word thou demandest I_cannot_ speak! Thy favor, Arthur's love, I resign them all! 'Tis thebidding of my God, and he will strengthen me to bear it. Imprison,torture, slay, with the lingering misery of a broken heart, but Icannot deny my faith!"
Disappointed, grieved, as she was at this unexpected reply, Isabellawas too much an enthusiast in religion herself not to understand thefeeling which dictated it; and much as she still abhorred the faith,the martyr spirit which could thus immolate the most fervid, themost passionate emotions of woman's nature at the shrine of her God,stirred a sympathetic chord in her own heart, and so moved her, thatthe stern words she had intended to speak were choked within her.
"We must summon those then to whose charge we are pledged to committhee," she said with difficulty; and hastily rung a silver bell besideher. "We had hoped such would not have been needed; but, as it is--"
She paused abruptly; for the hangings were hastily pushed aside, and,instead of the stern figure of Torquemada, who was to have obeyed thesignal, the Infanta Isabella eagerly entered; and ran up to the Queen,with childish and caressing glee at being permitted to rejoin her.The confessor--not imagining his presence would be needed, or that hewould return to his post in time--had restlessly obeyed the summons ofa brother prelate, and, in some important clerical details, forgot themandate of his Sovereign.
Marie saw the softened expression of the Queen's face; the ineffectualeffort to resist her child's caresses, and retain her sternness: and,with a sudden impulse, she threw herself at her feet.
"Oh! do not turn from me, my Sovereign!" she implored, wildly claspingIsabella's knees. "I ask nothing--nothing, but to return to mychildhood's home, and die there! I ask not to return to my people; theywould not receive me, for I have dared to love the stranger; but in myown isolated home, where but two aged retainers of my father dwell, Ican do harm to none--mingle with none; let me bear a breaking heart fora brief--brief w
hile; and rest beside my parents. I will swear to theenever to quit that place of banishment--swear never more to mingle witheither thy people or with mine--to be as much lost to man, as if thegrave had already closed over me, or convent walls immured me! Oh,Madam! grant me but this! Will it not be enough of suffering to give upArthur?--to tear myself from thy cherishing love?--to bear my miseryalone? Leave me, oh! leave me but my faith--the sole joy, sole hope, nowleft me! Give me not up to the harsh, and cruel father--the stern motherof St. Ursula! If I can sacrifice love, kindness--all that would makeearth a heaven--will harshness gain thine end? Plead for me," shecontinued, addressing the infant-princess, who, as if affected by thegrief she beheld, had left her mother to cling round Marie caressingly;"plead for me, Infanta! Oh, Madam! the fate of war might place thisbeloved and cherished one in the hands of those who regard thy faitheven as thou dost mine; were such an alternative proffered, how wouldstthou she should decide? My Sovereign, my gracious Sovereign, oh, havemercy!"
"Mamma! dear Mamma!" repeated the princess at the same moment, andaware that her intercession was required, though unable to comprehendthe wherefore, she clasped her little hands entreatingly; "grant poorMarie what she wishes! You have told me a Queen's first duty is to bekind and good; and do all in her power to make others happy. Make herhappy, dear Mamma, she has been so sad!"
The appeal to Isabella's nature was irresistible; she caught her childto her heart, and burst into passionate tears.