Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

Cornelius took it, and on the second fly leaf (for it will

be remembered that the first was torn out), drawing near his

end like his godfather, he wrote with a no less firm hand:

—

“On this day, the 23d of August, 1672, being on the point of

rendering, although innocent, my soul to God on the

scaffold, I bequeath to Rosa Gryphus the only worldly goods

which remain to me of all that I have possessed in this

world, the rest having been confiscated; I bequeath, I say,

to Rosa Gryphus three bulbs, which I am convinced must

produce, in the next May, the Grand Black Tulip for which a

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prize of a hundred thousand guilders has been offered by the

Haarlem Society, requesting that she may be paid the same

sum in my stead, as my sole heiress, under the only

condition of her marrying a respectable young man of about

my age, who loves her, and whom she loves, and of her giving

the black tulip, which will constitute a new species, the

name of Rosa Barlaensis, that is to say, hers and mine

combined.

“So may God grant me mercy, and to her health and long life!

“Cornelius van Baerle.”

The prisoner then, giving the Bible to Rosa, said, —

“Read.”

“Alas!” she answered, “I have already told you I cannot

read.”

Cornelius then read to Rosa the testament that he had just

made.

The agony of the poor girl almost overpowered her.

“Do you accept my conditions?” asked the prisoner, with a

melancholy smile, kissing the trembling hands of the

afflicted girl.

“Oh, I don’t know, sir,” she stammered.

“You don’t know, child, and why not?”

“Because there is one condition which I am afraid I cannot

keep.”

“Which? I should have thought that all was settled between

us.”

“You give me the hundred thousand guilders as a marriage

portion, don’t you?

“And under the condition of my marrying a man whom I love?”

“Certainly.”

“Well, then, sir, this money cannot belong to me. I shall

never love any one; neither shall I marry.”

And, after having with difficulty uttered these words, Rosa

almost swooned away in the violence of her grief.

Cornelius, frightened at seeing her so pale and sinking, was

going to take her in his arms, when a heavy step, followed

by other dismal sounds, was heard on the staircase, amidst

the continued barking of the dog.

“They are coming to fetch you. Oh God! Oh God!” cried Rosa,

wringing her hands. “And have you nothing more to tell me?”

She fell on her knees with her face buried in her hands and

became almost senseless.

“I have only to say, that I wish you to preserve these bulbs

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as a most precious treasure, and carefully to treat them

according to the directions I have given you. Do it for my

sake, and now farewell, Rosa.”

“Yes, yes,” she said, without raising her head, “I will do

anything you bid me, except marrying,” she added, in a low

voice, “for that, oh! that is impossible for me.”

She then put the cherished treasure next her beating heart.

The noise on the staircase which Cornelius and Rosa had

heard was caused by the Recorder, who was coming for the

prisoner. He was followed by the executioner, by the

soldiers who were to form the guard round the scaffold, and

by some curious hangers-on of the prison.

Cornelius, without showing any weakness, but likewise

without any bravado, received them rather as friends than as

persecutors, and quietly submitted to all those preparations

which these men were obliged to make in performance of their

duty.

Then, casting a glance into the yard through the narrow

iron-barred window of his cell, he perceived the scaffold,

and, at twenty paces distant from it, the gibbet, from

which, by order of the Stadtholder, the outraged remains of

the two brothers De Witt had been taken down.

When the moment came to descend in order to follow the

guards, Cornelius sought with his eyes the angelic look of

Rosa, but he saw, behind the swords and halberds, only a