Monthly Review of Literature. 429 



' While Marguerite de Valois remained panting within Crichton's arms, with 

 one hand retained within his own, and her waist still encircled by the other, 

 with her eyes, to the neglect of all observers, passionately fixed upon his 

 gaze, a masked cavalier, enveloped in a black domino, and wearing a hat sur- 

 mounted with sable plumes, accompanied by a dame, whose features were 

 concealed by a violet-coloured vizard, took up a position opposite to them. 



" Do you note their looks ? Do you mark their caressing hands ?" asked 

 the cavalier of his companion. 

 ' I do I do," was her reply. 

 ' Look again." 



' My eyes dazzle I can see no longer/' 

 1 ' You are satisfied, then ?" * 



' Satisfied ! oh, my head burns, my heart throbs almost to bursting, hor- 

 rible emotions possess me. Heaven give me strength to conquer them prove 

 prove him false prove that and " 



< " Have I not proved it? No matter ; you shall hear him avow his perfidy 

 with his own lips, shall behold him seal it with his kisses. Will that con- 

 tent you ?" 



'The maiden's reply, if her agitation permitted her to make any, was unheard 

 in the din of a fresh burst of music, which struck up in answer to a wave of 

 Du Halde's wand. The grave and somewhat grandiose character of the 

 strain, announced an accompaniment to the Pavanne d'Espagne, a dance not 

 inaptly named after the strutting bird of Juno, which had been recently in- 

 troduced from the court of Madrid into that of Paris, by the ambassadors of 

 Philip II., and which, in consequence of the preference entertained for it by 

 Marguerite de Valois, was, notwithstanding that its solemn and stately pace 

 harmonized more completely with the haughty carriage of the grandees of 

 Spain than with the livelier bearing of the French noblesse, now greatly in 

 vogue amongst the latter. 



'La Pavanne d'Espagne, which had some of the stiffness with more than the 

 grace of the old minuet de la cour (the delight of our grand- dames) presented 

 a singular contrast to the national dance which preceded it. In the one, all 

 was whirl, velocity, abandonment ; in the other, dignity, formality, gravity. 

 The first was calculated to display the spirit and energy of the performers ; 

 the second, to exhibit such graces of person and majesty of deportment as 

 they might chance to possess. In both was Crichton seen to advantage : in 

 the latter eminently so. 



'As> in accordance with the haughty prelude to the figure, a slow martial 

 strain, breathing of the proud minstrelsy of Old Castile, interrupted at inter- 

 vals by the hollow roll of the Moorish atabal, he drew his lofty person to its 

 utmost height, his eyes the while blazing with chivalrous fire, awakened by 

 the vaunting melody, and his noble features lighted up with a kindred expres- 

 sion, the beholder might well have imagined that in him Le beheld some glo- 

 rious descendant of the Cid, or mighty inheritor of the honours of the 

 renowned Pelayo. 



'Advancing towards the queen of Navarre with a grave and profound saluta- 

 tion, he appeared to solicit the honour of her hand, to which courteous re- 

 quest Marguerite, who, for the nonce, assumed all the hauteur and august 

 coquetry of an infanta of the blood royal, disdainfully answered by conceding 

 him the tips of those lovely fingers which Ronsard had likened, as the reader 

 knows, to the rosy digits of the daughter of the dawn. Here began that slow 

 and stately procession from which the dance obtained its designation, and in 

 which its chief grace consisted. Hand in hand they sailed down the saloon 



Like two companion barks on Cydnus' wave, 



a prouder couple never graced those festal halls. With a pace majestic as 

 that of a king about to receive the crown of his ancestry did Crichton pursue 

 his course. Murmurs of admiration marked his steps. 



