contained four guitar and lute players, two singers, and
several courtiers, all sparkling with gold and precious
stones, and showing their white teeth in emulation of each
other, to please the Lady Henrietta Stuart, grand-daughter
of Henry IV., daughter of Charles I., and sister of Charles
II., who occupied the seat of honor under the dais of the
bark. We know this young princess, we have seen her at the
Louvre with her mother, wanting wood, wanting bread, and fed
by the coadjuteur and the parliament. She had, therefore,
like her brothers, passed through an uneasy youth; then, all
at once, she had just awakened from a long and horrible
dream, seated on the steps of a throne, surrounded by
courtiers and flatterers. Like Mary Stuart on leaving
prison, she aspired not only to life and liberty, but to
power and wealth.
The Lady Henrietta, in growing, had attained remarkable
beauty, which the recent restoration had rendered
celebrated. Misfortune had taken from her the luster of
pride, but prosperity had restored it to her. She was
resplendent, then, in her joy and her happiness, — like
those hot-house flowers which, forgotten during a frosty
autumn night, have hung their heads, but which on the
morrow, warmed once more by the atmosphere in which they
were born, rise again with greater splendor than ever.
Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, son of him who played so
conspicuous a part in the early chapters of this history, —
Villiers of Buckingham, a handsome cavalier, melancholy with
women, a jester with men, — and Wilmot, Lord Rochester, a
jester with both sexes, were standing at this moment before
the Lady Henrietta, disputing the privilege of making her
smile. As to that young and beautiful princess, reclining
upon a cushion of velvet bordered with gold, her hands
hanging listlessly so as to dip in the water, she listened
carelessly to the musicians without hearing them, and heard
the two courtiers without appearing to listen to them.
This Lady Henrietta — this charming creature — this woman
who joined the graces of France to the beauties of England,
not having yet loved, was cruel in her coquetry. The smile,
then, — that innocent favor of young girls, — did not even
lighten her countenance; and if, at times, she did raise her
eyes, it was to fasten them upon one or other of the
cavaliers with such a fixity, that their gallantry, bold as
it generally was, took the alarm, and became timid.
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In the meanwhile the boat continued its course, the
musicians made a great noise, and the courtiers began, like
them, to be out of breath. Besides, the excursion became
doubtless monotonous to the princess, for all at once,
shaking her head with an air of impatience, — “Come,
gentlemen, — enough of this; — let us land.”
“Ah, madam,” said Buckingham, “we are very unfortunate! We
have not succeeded in making the excursion agreeable to your
royal highness.”
“My mother expects me,” replied the princess; “and I must
frankly admit, gentlemen, I am bored.” And whilst uttering
this cruel word, Henrietta endeavored to console by a look
each of the two young men, who appeared terrified at such
frankness. The look produced its effect — the two faces
brightened; but immediately, as if the royal coquette
thought she had done too much for simple mortals, she made a
movement, turned her back on both her adorers, and appeared
plunged in a reverie in which it was evident they had no
part.
Buckingham bit his lips with anger, for he was truly in love
with Lady Henrietta, and, in that case, took everything in a
serious light. Rochester bit his lips likewise; but his wit
always dominated over his heart, it was purely and simply to
repress a malicious smile. The princess was then allowing
the eyes she turned from the young nobles to wander over the
green and flowery turf of the park, when she perceived Parry
and D’Artagnan at a distance.
“Who is coming yonder?” said she.
The two young men turned round with the rapidity of
lightning.
“Parry,” replied Buckingham, “nobody but Parry.”
“I beg your pardon,” said Rochester, “but I think he has a