“I shall take the liberty, then, of returning her to her royal donors,” said the Marquis. “You will take it as no disparagement to your matchless charms, Donna Florinda, that I am anxious so soon to part from one whom all admire; but I prefer that my wife should have no female counsellor who will teach her to consider her husband a tyrant and endowed with qualities inferior to all other men.”
“You forget your gallantry, Senhor Marquis, when you talk of sending me out of your house, like a roll of silks returned to the mercer as not required,” cried the sable lady, delighted to have an opportunity both of loosing her tongue, and of relieving her young mistress from the wrath of her husband. “Truly, I am surprised to hear you speak thus, whom all the Court acknowledge to be the most gallant of knights. What would Senhora Amelia, or the fair Condeça de Campo Bello say, if they heard you give utterance to such expressions? You would never speak thus to them, I feel confident; but then they are not cruel to you, it is whispered. Come, come, senhor, you have no right to complain if your lady thinks fit to receive the visits of our sovereign.”
“Silence, wretch!” thundered the Marquis. “Begone to your chamber, and let me not see your hideous countenance while you remain beneath my roof. That you claim to belong to the female sex, alone prevents me from ordering you forthwith to be put outside my doors.”
“The man is to a certainty mad, to call me such horrid names,” cried the Dwarf, judging it, however, more prudent to obey. “I trust the cool reflection of the morning will make you think better of your present determination, as I should grieve to leave my lovely mistress so soon.”
“You need enjoy no such expectations,” answered the Marquis, as the little being retired. “And now, madam,” he added, turning to his wife, “retire to your apartment, and quit it not without my permission. As it appears that the King has chosen to become the master of my palace, I shall no longer reside here. Farewell, madam, for the present; I have affairs of importance to transact. In the morning I shall return.”
“Stay, Luis, stay!” exclaimed the Marchioness; “do not leave me thus in anger. Say you do not believe me really guilty;” and she endeavoured to clasp his arm to detain him, but he tore himself angrily away.
“Oaths and prayers will avail you naught, madam,” he answered. “Obey my commands for the present; how I may think fit to act for the future you shall hear:” saying which, he turned aside from his young wife, and descended the stairs, muttering, as he went, between his closed teeth, “I might have better borne a rival with some gallant qualities to boast of; but this wretched King, who gives himself up to the power of a base plebeian,—’tis a double disgrace. My lady mother aware of it! I must see to that! Impossible! It was but a flimsy excuse to avert my anger.”
Entering his carriage, he ordered the postillion to proceed to his father’s Quinta at Belem. How dreary and long seemed the way as he passed the shapeless masses of ruins which everywhere presented themselves on the road, appearing yet larger and wilder amid the gloom of night; his mind, too, like them, torn and agitated by a thousand conflicting emotions!
When he arrived, he found that his father was from home, and that his mother had retired to her chamber; nor could he venture to disturb her. The only member of his family not yet retired to rest being his younger brother Jozé, to him he poured out his indignant griefs and vows of vengeance against the sovereign, whom he imagined had cast so great a dishonour on their name. Don Jozé, being of a far milder temperament than his brother, endeavoured to calm his anger, by pointing out to him the possibility of his wife’s having spoken the truth; that if their mother was aware of the King’s visit, at all events there was some excuse for her; but, at the same time, he pledged himself to aid him by every means in his power, if his worst suspicions were confirmed. The greater part of the night had passed in these discussions, before the young Marquis, throwing himself on a couch in his brother’s room, endeavoured to find some rest to his troubled thoughts.
Little did the Sovereign of Portugal dream of the plots against his crown and life hatching within the boundaries of his capital; nor was even his sagacious Minister aware they had advanced so far.