Wilmington journal. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1844-1895, 1844-11-08
WILMINGTON, N. c., FRIDAY, NOVEMBER s, 1914.
A French Courtship in the Olden Time.

A French COurtship in the 0lden Time.
. 1t was with much feeling and
some sense of music, that these few indiffer-
ent stanzss were sung, one summer night in
garden Of Provence, some eighty years ago.
trarch and the troubadours. But that chateau
of Louis Kill, with its cold, regular, formal
aspect, those straight and stately walks of
Louis XIV, those marble nymphs and god
desses, which seemed to shiver in the cold
moonlight, that long uniformity of wings and
windows, that grille all gilt with blazonry,
these things had far more of the eighteenth
century than the old time of Poets and Cava-
Tiers. But it was with as much of
The pang, the agony, the doubt
as if he had been a courtier Of King Rene's,
as much of Impotence as he had been upon
the eve of bis crusade, that young lover
kept IN unremitting gaze upon one window
Of the Chateau. Atlength his patience SEEM
ed fairly wearied out. He took up small
stone and flung it gently against the glass;
1t was not long before 1t was opened. There
were flowers, geraniums, and sweet orange
blossoms in the balcony before it-but the
lover could distinguish through their cluster
ing leaves the regular features, and long fair
hair of her he loved.
Hist! hist! it is l."
The lady listened. She leaned her delicate
head forward. There was a moment, as of
doubt.
81, Gabriel de Mirabeau.''
She heard the name, and at once, with an
immediate impulse, closed the lattice. 1t
could not be coquetry; there could not be a
more unequivocal symptom of dislike "a
more natural instinct Of repulsion.
But Gabriel de Mirabeau was not a man to
be disliked and repealed with impunity. He
walked to the end of the long greensward be-
fore the chateau, and in his passionate morti-
fcation, made something Of the same vow
that another man Of genius, our English Sher-
idan, made later, under circumstances not
dis-similar. ...
He came back before the chateau. He
took up another stone, and flung it with more
force against an adjoining window. He was
just about to repeat his summons, when it was
flung open with some violence, but very
different figure was now presented to his
view. Even without that brocaded dressing
gown, there could be no installing the Mar
quis of Louis XV's age.
Mirabeau's voice grew only more tender
and melodious.
at is |, Emile, Gabriel de Miribeau
who adore you ;-whom you have deigned tc
love ;-whose hair | am pressing to my lips
whose letters are shrined on my heart >
whose tokens .
How much longer he might have gone on
it would be difficult to say, when the whizzing
of ball close by him, and the report of Z
pistol might have alarmed him for his safety
But Mi.abeau's nerves were not AS another
mans. He looked carelessly round, and leap.
ed lightly upwards to a balcony, where he
was protected by sort Of verandah. Wha,
he had calculated upon took place. In less
than minute the Marquis was at his side and
another pistol was at his head.
civilian swear that you will marry her,
or III shoot you on the spot. Swear this in
stant!''
Mirabeau knocked up the weak arm of the
old Marquis, and pretended we'll dissimula.
ted reluctance.
''Swear!'' The pistol was again leveled
at him; but this time Mirabeau affected tc
quail before the sight.
81 swear,-to-mOrrow-n here-now-
will marry your daughter,-only-only-
spare my life.''
Coward" muttered the old nobleman, and
all the ancient regime was in his manner; SC
differently would he have acted in his own
youth. ''You are disgrace to your ORDER"
Within the week Monsieur lie Comte Ga.
brel de Mirabeau was married to Mademol.
sele Emile de Covet.
There were censorious people who remark
ed that the marriage was rather sudden one:
and some went so far even as to say that the
Count had been surprised on balcony by the
Maquis de Marignene, her father. But this
story can scarcely be true, because it is told
in history.
Que thing only is certain, that Mirabeau
did not unlearn the bad habit of pistoIing he
had been laugh by his father-in-law. And
the letter of farewell which he made his wife
write Gender fear of being shot if she refused,
to the lover of her girlhood, whom she happl'
ly expected on that summer evening, was
perhaps the most remarkable even the letters
of Mirabean.-Smythe's Historie France.