Page:The Lady's Book Vol. V.pdf/6

 THE TRAITOR’S DOOM.

Original.

THE TRAITOR’S DOOM.

Suspicion is a heavy armour, That impedes more than it protects." Byron.

Day nk into the arms of night, and the city of was still, no busy crowds thronged the passages, and no splendid cavalcade drew “forth the citizens with curious looks: naught, save the heavy tread of the mailed sentinel, was heard before the royal palace,as he slowly paced his weary march. The night was beautiful to look upon; the stars seemed to glitter more brightly than their wont, and the moon now reached her full, carecred majestically along her star-lit path. A happy group were gazing on her glories, and one among them whispered in the ear of his companion, “ Marie, thou art fairer than yon glorious orb, and thy sight more pleasant to mine eye tham her light to the sea- tost mariner.” The speaker was Philip of France, (the third of that name who bore the Gallic sceptre.) He stood on a balcony of the palace, and his queen leaned against his bosom in the full confidence of a strong and fervent love. His countenance was marked with an air of amiable serenity, and his dark and expressive eye rested on the fair form that he supported. She was a creature of noble bearing, yet her proud look was chastened by a woman’s grace, just verging from fragile youth, .to the richer beauties of maturity; she possessed ahighly cul- tivated mind, and a powerful affection for her husband and his offspring. The princes Lewis and Philip, by Isabella the late queen; were the objects of her tender solicitude; for her husband’s sake she bestowed on them all the attentions of maternal care, and found an ample reward in the gradually expanding intellect of Lewis, who was now in his fifth year: he had every thing in him which could delight a fond parent; he was beautiful, amiable, and talented, and his soul was as generous as it was pure. He now held his mother’s hand, and shaking back the curls from his face, looked up archly in her eyes, and then started off to the other end of the terrace with a speed that rivalled the young hart. “Aha! my good lord,” said he, to a form which he encoun- tered, “have 1 caught you: where are those sweetmeats you promised me but yesterday, I will tell papa that his chamberlain docs net keep his word, and then—but no, not that either, when 1 am king, and wear a sword, and a crown, and sit in the throne with all the great men about me, you shall not come in.”

“Pshaw! child,” said the chamberlain impa- tiently, “1 will give thee toys another time—get thee away, I would be alone.”

“An “thou can’st then,” relorted. the child, “come away with me to papa and mamma—there they stand, in the shade of that gloomy turret.”

Finding resistance vain, the chamberlain yielded to his importunities, and approached the spot where the king and queen were standing.

“Weleome, La Brosse,” said the king kindly, “thou wert not with usin council this morning —hah! Wert pondering on some new scheme for the nation’s weal? We forgive thee, but would have.thee send us word when again detained from*our deliberations.”

“But sire, the reasons”

“Nay, nay, thou art a good servant, and we this once indulge thee; therefore no more.”— The group for a long time tarried, and the time flew on, scarce noticed, so deeply were they en- gaged in conversation, one while amused by the artless prattle of the boy, another listening to the eloquent descriptions of La Brosse, who dis- coursed on every subject, as if conscious of his superior powers.

None heard more eagerly than the queen; she loved to enjoy these happy moments with her family, and the confidant of the king, when the cares of state were dismissed, and the true feel- ings of the soul drew aside the veil of hypocrisy, which power is compelled to wear. The even- ing passed, the terrace was deserted, and the king happy in the fidelity of his subjects, and the affections of his spouse, could rest in quiet, and not-find thorns where his wearied frame would seck repose. By early dawn he had arisen, and soon greeted Marie, “A fair morn to thee, dear- est; the balmy air invigorates, and the bright sun smiles again on happy France;—happy! what is happiness to a king? it has been thought beyond his highest hopes, and as the object only of vainest dreams. Can’st tell me?”

“Ay, something whispers an answer to oo question; do not J answer it? do not I love thee, and will not that dispel the clouds of sadness which gather on thy brow, even in the darkest day?”.

“In faith, well answered, and right lovingly; but would thy smiles blunt the spears of rebel vassals, or thy frail form turn aside the falchion’s edge? A faithful people is my coat of proof, but thou art the soul which animates the form which it protects.”

“And thy children—the noble Lewis and the little Philip, they are thy weapons; of more value in a father’s hand than even thy stout blade which has cloven many a helm, in tourney and in battle.”

“Truly, fair one, thou divinest well; how fare the little ones? methought last night, the spirits of my son seemed buoyant above measure, and his eye sparkled with a hotter fire. Oh, glorious