As she uttered these words, Madeleine raised her head, lifted her veil, and gazed intently at the archduke.
The marquise spoke truly, for her passion for her blond archangel, of whom she had talked to Sophie Dutertre, had never had anything terrestrial in it.
The prince believed Madeleine; first, because truth almost always carries conviction with it, then, because he felt happy in putting faith in the words of the young woman. He blushed less in acknowledging to himself the profound and sudden impression produced on him by this singular creature, when he realised that, after all, she had been worthy of guarding the sacred fire of Vesta; so, the imprudent man, his eyes fixed on the eyes of Madeleine, contemplating them with passionate eagerness, drank at leisure the enchanted love-potion.
"At this moment, monseigneur, you are asking yourself, I am sure, a question which I often ask myself."
"You are asking yourself (to speak like an old-time romance), 'Who is he who will make me share his passion?' Ah, well, I, too, am very anxious to penetrate the future on this subject."
"That future, nevertheless, depends on you."
"No, monseigneur, to draw music from the lyre, some one must make it vibrate."
"My God! who knows? Perhaps you, monseigneur."
"I!" cried the prince, charmed, transported. "I!"
"I pray you, do not call me monseigneur; it is too ceremonious."
"Oh, oh, monseigneur; it is a great favour for a prince to be treated with familiarity; he must deserve it. You ask me how you may please me. I will give you not an example, but a fact. The poet, Moser-Hartmann, whose apostasy you say I caused, addressed to me the most singular remark in the world. One day he met me at the house of a mutual friend, looked at me a long time, and then said, with an air of angry alarm: 'Madame, for the peace of spirituality, you ought to be buried alive!' And he went out, but next day he came to see me, madly in love, a victim, he told me, to a sudden passion,--as sudden and novel as it was uncontrollable. 'Let your passion burn,' I said to him, 'but hear the advice of a friend; the passion devours you, let it flow in your verse. Become a great poet, and perhaps your glory will intoxicate me.'"