Man in the Iron Mask by Dumas, Alexandre part two

“I will repeat to you, Mademoiselle,” said d’Artagnan, “what M. de Bragelonne said of you at Antibes, when he already meditated death: ‘If pride and coquetry have misled her, I pardon her while despising her. If love has produced her error, I pardon her, swearing that no one could have loved her as I have done.'”

“You know,” interrupted Louise, “that for my love I was about to sacrifice myself; you know whether I suffered when you met me, lost, dying, abandoned. Well! never have I suffered so much as now; because then I hoped, I desired,- now I have nothing to wish for; because this death drags away all my joy into the tomb; because I can no longer dare to love without remorse, and I feel that he whom I love- oh! that is the law- will repay me with the tortures I have made others undergo.”

D’Artagnan made no reply; he was too well convinced that she was not mistaken.

“Well, then,” added she, “dear M. d’Artagnan, do not overwhelm me today, I again implore you. I am like the branch torn from the trunk, I no longer hold to anything in this world, and a current drags me on, I know not whither. I love madly, I love to the point of coming to tell it, impious as I am, over the ashes of the dead; and I do not blush for it,- I have no remorse on account of it. This love is a religion. Only, as hereafter you will see me, alone, forgotten, disdained; as you will see me punished with that with which I am destined to be punished, spare me in my ephemeral happiness, leave it to me for a few days, for a few minutes. Now, even at the moment I am speaking to you perhaps it no longer exists. My God! This double murder is perhaps already expiated!”

While she was speaking thus, the sound of voices and the tread of horses drew the attention of the captain. M. de Saint-Aignan came to seek La Valliere. The King, he said, was a prey to jealousy and uneasinesss. De Saint-Aignan did not see d’Artagnan, half-concealed by the trunk of a chestnut-tree which shaded the two graves. Louise thanked De Saint-Aignan, and dismissed him with a gesture. He rejoined the party outside the enclosure.

“You see, Madame,” said the captain, bitterly, to the young woman,- You see that your happiness still lasts.”

The young woman raised her head with a solemn air. “A day will come,” said she, “when you will repent of having judged me so harshly. On that day, it will be I who will pray God to forgive you for having been unjust towards me. Besides, I shall suffer so much that you will be the first to pity my sufferings. Do not reproach me with that happiness, M. d’Artagnan; it costs me dear, and I have not paid all my debt.” Saying these words, she again knelt down, softly and affectionately. “Pardon me, the last time, my affianced Raoul!” said she. “I have broken our chain; we are both destined to die of grief. It is thou who departest the first; fear nothing, I shall follow thee. See, only, that I have not been base, and that I have come to bid thee this last adieu. The Lord is my witness, Raoul, that if with my life I could have redeemed thine, I would have given that life without hesitation: I could not give my love. Once more, pardon!”

She gathered a branch and stuck it into the ground; then, wiping the tears from her eyes, she bowed to d’Artagnan and disappeared.

The captain watched the departure of the horses, horsemen, and carriage; then crossing his arms upon his swelling chest, “When will it be my turn to depart?” said he, in an agitated voice. “What is there left for man after youth, after love, after glory, after friendship, after strength, after riches? That rock, under which sleeps Porthos, who possessed all I have named; this moss, under which repose Athos and Raoul, who possessed still much more!”

He hesitated a moment with a dull eye; then, drawing himself up, “Forward! still forward!” said he. “When it shall be time, God will tell me, as he has told others.”

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