“To follow the order of time,” she answered, “they should commence with Helen.”
The magician, with a changing countenance, now exclaimed, “Sit still!”
Sydney’s heart beat quick. The brave Essex turned pale. As to the Queen, not the slightest emotion was perceptible.
Faustus soon commenced some muttered incantations and strange evolutions, such as were the fashion of the day for conjurors. Anon the gallery shook, so did the two courtiers, and the Doctor, in a voice of anger, called out,
“Daughter of fair Leda, hear!
From thy far Elysian sphere;
Lovely as when, for his fee,
To Paris Venus promised thee—
Appear—appear—appear!”
Accustomed to command, rather than to be commanded, the fair Helen lingered to the last possible moment; but when the last moment came, so did she, and so suddenly, that no one knew how she got there. She was habited a la Grecque,—her hair ornamented with pearls and a superb aigrette. The figure passed slowly onwards—stopped for an instant directly opposite the Queen, as if to gratify her curiosity, took leave of her with a malicious smile, and vanished. She had scarcely disappeared when her Majesty exclaimed—“What! that the fair Helen! I don’t pique myself on beauty, but may I die if I would change faces with her!”
“I told your Majesty how it would be,” remarked the enchanter; “and yet there she is, as she was in her best days.”
“She has, however, very fine eyes,” observed Essex.
“Yes,” said Sydney, “they are large, dark, and brilliant—but after all, what do they say?” added he, correcting himself.
“Nothing,” replied the favourite.