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true one to be found 'mongst them. Let's go back, Damoyseau, to your good old father, who used to tell you so often—".
“ Tell me what thou hast seen, dog!" said Gaultier, seizing him by the collar, “ or I'll strangle thee."
This threat did not seem far from being executed. The blood rose to the poor fellow's cheeks, and almost forced his eyes from their sockets, as lifting both his hands to loose his Lord's grasp, he humbly replied,
“ Please your Honour's goodness to forgive me; but was't enough to drive a man from his wits to see what I saw. To catch that trull of a thing there — that Rose of mine, - that Rose, who has scores of times vowed she ne'er could bide the sight on any thing but me--that she 'ould ne'er set eyes on another, nay, nor think of another.—Arnt it enough, please your Honour, to make one crazy, to find, that no sooner's my back turned, than she is off with some one else."
“Rose !-thy Bonnibel !—where, Geoffroi; where hast thou seen her ?” Gaultier demanded with a deep sigh, as though his bosom felt a relief from some most oppressive weight.
“Look, Sire!” said the man, pointing to the spot where Gaultier had observed the female whose description has been already given, and who, still occupying the same part of the scaffolding, now sat attentively listening to some one who addressed his conversation to her.
“ What! and is that thy Bonnibel, Geoffroi ? and who is the Seigneur now speaking to her ?"
“ Bonnibel! truly," replied Geoffroi indignantly. “ The slut! Belle!—an you like, Seigneur ? but as for bonne, Saint Gingo never speed me an I see aught that's bonne to trick me in this manner.”
“ Well, but Geoffroi, tell me who is yon illseeming Knight who now converseth with her.”
“ Why, please your Honour, that's no other than the Lord of Mauberque, a knavish, rascally caitiff!” he muttered to himself, and then continued aloud—“He's aye at some such filthy pranks. Here, please your Honour, ha' I been courting this wench for these six months and more, and thinking all along the time, how
happy we should be when I got her and her silver, all which was to ha' come about, Damoyseau, when your Honour thought fit to be so generous as to reward my services, and now she's gone off at last without license from her father, and cheated me, the wanton trollop!"
“ I should pity thee from my very heart and soul, Geoffroi, if thou didst not by an almost hourly allusion to the maiden's silver, make me to think, thou ever didst esteem her more for that, than for any good quality thou mayst have fancied in her mind."
“ I fancy to see good qualities in her mind, your Honour! i'faith, no, not I, Messire Gaultier; I ne'er laboured my mind about her good qualities,—the best of them is not in her giving just yet, but is close locked up in her old father's coffers. Nathless, the Sire de Mauberque may hap to tire on her one of these days, that's like enough; and so should he take it in head to leave her some fine morning, he won't run off with her silver too, I dare say."
Why, no, no, Geoffroi, I warrant not,” replied Gaultier, smiling, “ I'll warrant he'll leave that with her. Really, thou art a most kindhearted and obliging lover indeed; and, I dare swear, the day thou lookest for will come at last, perhaps, too, shortly; and then he will leave her free to reward thy constancy and generous love.
He who rejoices not, at having a load of sorrow lifted from his own bosom, even, though in consequence of such relief, a triple weight of misery be placed on that of his very best friend, must be an Angel at least; but this our globe is no fit habitation for such pure Beings, and so they wonne not on it.—Instead of thinking that we are any of us Angels, I am inclined to believe with the Indians, that the heavenly host having rebelled, the Almighty cast them forth from out his presence into fire; but that, after a time, being willing to mitigate their punishment, he sent them hither to animate the bodies of men.-In truth, the cruelty to be seen in some of us, is that of demons.