whom the world has seen.
But Rosa had forbidden it under pain of not returning; Rosa
had forbidden the least mention of the tulip for three days.
That meant seventy-two hours given to the lover to be sure;
but it was seventy-two hours stolen from the horticulturist.
There was one consolation: of the seventy-two hours during
which Rosa would not allow the tulip to be mentioned,
thirty-six had passed already; and the remaining thirty-six
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
would pass quickly enough: eighteen with waiting for the
evening’s interview, and eighteen with rejoicing in its
remembrance.
Rosa came at the same hour, and Cornelius submitted most
heroically to the pangs which the compulsory silence
concerning the tulip gave him.
His fair visitor, however, was well aware that, to command
on the one point, people must yield on another; she
therefore no longer drew back her hands from the grating,
and even allowed Cornelius tenderly to kiss her beautiful
golden tresses.
Poor girl! she had no idea that these playful little lovers’
tricks were much more dangerous than speaking of the tulip
was; but she became aware of the fact as she returned with a
beating heart, with glowing cheeks, dry lips, and moist
eyes.
And on the following evening, after the first exchange of
salutations, she retired a step, looking at him with a
glance, the expression of which would have rejoiced his
heart could he but have seen it.
“Well,” she said, “she is up.”
“She is up! Who? What?” asked Cornelius, who did not venture
on a belief that Rosa would, of her own accord, have
abridged the term of his probation.
“She? Well, my daughter, the tulip,” said Rosa.
“What!” cried Cornelius, “you give me permission, then?”
“I do,” said Rosa, with the tone of an affectionate mother
who grants a pleasure to her child.
“Ah, Rosa!” said Cornelius, putting his lips to the grating
with the hope of touching a cheek, a hand, a forehead, —
anything, in short.
He touched something much better, — two warm and half open
lips.
Rosa uttered a slight scream.
Cornelius understood that he must make haste to continue the
conversation. He guessed that this unexpected kiss had
frightened Rosa.
“Is it growing up straight?”
“Straight as a rocket,” said Rosa.
“How high?”
“At least two inches.”
“Oh, Rosa, take good care of it, and we shall soon see it
grow quickly.”
“Can I take more care of it?” said she. “Indeed, I think of
nothing else but the tulip.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
“Of nothing else, Rosa? Why, now I shall grow jealous in my
turn.”
“Oh, you know that to think of the tulip is to think of you;
I never lose sight of it. I see it from my bed, on awaking
it is the first object that meets my eyes, and on falling
asleep the last on which they rest. During the day I sit and
work by its side, for I have never left my chamber since I
put it there.”
“You are right Rosa, it is your dowry, you know.”
“Yes, and with it I may marry a young man of twenty-six or
twenty-eight years, whom I shall be in love with.”
“Don’t talk in that way, you naughty girl.”
That evening Cornelius was one of the happiest of men. Rosa
allowed him to press her hand in his, and to keep it as long
as he would, besides which he might talk of his tulip as
much as he liked.
From that hour every day marked some progress in the growth
of the tulip and in the affection of the two young people.
At one time it was that the leaves had expanded, and at
another that the flower itself had formed.
Great was the joy of Cornelius at this news, and his
questions succeeded one another with a rapidity which gave
proof of their importance.
“Formed!” exclaimed Cornelius, “is it really formed?”
“It is,” repeated Rosa.
Cornelius trembled with joy, so much so that he was obliged
to hold by the grating.
“Good heavens!” he exclaimed.
Then, turning again to Rosa, he continued his questions.