"I hope it will be a nice benefice," said the Princess to him, with a pretty smile, as he was going out; then, shaking her head with an air of solemn misgiving, "but you had better have been Bishop of Liege."Gerard followed his new conductor, his heart warm with gratitude;but ere he reached the banquet-hall a chill came over him.The mind of one who has led a quiet, uneventful life is not apt to take in contradictory feelings at the same moment and balance them, but rather to be overpowered by each in turn.While Gerard was with the Countess, the excitement of so new a situation, the unlooked-for promise.the joy and pride it would cause at home, possessed him wholly; but now it was passion's turn to be heard again.What! give up Margaret, whose soft hand he still felt in his, and her deep eyes in his heart? resign her and all the world of love and joy she had opened on him to-day? The revulsion, when it did come, was so strong that he hastily resolved to say nothing at home about the offered benefice."The Countess is so good,"thought he, "she has a hundred ways of aiding a young man's fortune: she will not compel me to be a priest when she shall learn I love one of her ***: one would almost think she does know it, for she cast a strange look on me, and said, 'A priest gives up much, too much.' I dare say she will give me a place about the palace." And with this hopeful reflection his mind was eased, and, being now at the entrance of the banqueting hall, he thanked his conductor, and ran hastily with joyful eyes to Margaret.He came in sight of the table- she was gone.Peter was gone too.Nobody was at the table at all; only a citizen in sober garments had just tumbled under it dead drunk, and several persons were raising him to carry him away.Gerard never guessed how important this solemn drunkard was to him: he was looking for "Beauty," and let the "Beast" lie.He ran wildly round the hall, which was now comparatively empty.She was not there.He left the palace:
outside he found a crowd gaping at two great fan-lights just lighted over the gate.He asked them earnestly if they had seen an old man in a gown, and a lovely girl pass out.They laughed at the question."They were staring at these new lights that turn night into day.They didn't trouble their heads about old men and young wenches, every-day sights." From another group he learned there was a Mystery being played under canvas hard by, and all the world gone to see it.This revived his hopes, and he went and saw the Mystery.
In this representation divine personages, too sacred for me to name here, came clumsily down from heaven to talk sophistry with the cardinal Virtues, the nine Muses, and the seven deadly sins, all present in human shape, and not unlike one another.To enliven which weary stuff in rattled the Prince of the power of the air, and an imp that kept molesting him and buffeting him with a bladder, at each thwack of which the crowd were in ecstasies.When the Vices had uttered good store of obscenity and the Virtues twaddle, the celestials, including the nine Muses went gingerly back to heaven one by one; for there was but one cloud; and two artisans worked it tip with its supernatural freight, and worked it down with a winch, in full sight of the audience.These disposed of, the bottomless pit opened and flamed in the centre of the stage; the carpenters and Virtues shoved the Vices in, and the Virtues and Beelzebub and his tormentor danced merrily round the place of eternal torture to the fife and tabor.
This entertainment was writ by the Bishop of Ghent for the diffusion of religious sentiment by the aid of the senses, and was an average specimen of theatrical exhibitions so long as they were in the hands of the clergy.But, in course of time, the laity conducted plays, and so the theatre, I learn from the pulpit, has become profane.
Margaret was nowhere in the crowd, and Gerard could not enjoy the performance; he actually went away in Act 2, in the midst of a much-admired piece of dialogue, in which Justice out-quibbled Satan.He walked through many streets, but could not find her he sought.At last, fairly worn out, he went to a hostelry and slept till daybreak.All that day, heavy and heartsick, he sought her, but could never fall in with her or her father, nor ever obtain the slightest clue.Then he felt she was false or had changed her mind.He was irritated now, as well as sad.More good fortune fell on him; he almost hated it.At last, on the third day, after he had once more been through every street, he said, "She is not in the town, and I shall never see her again.I will go home." He started for Tergou with royal favour promised, with fifteen golden angels in his purse, a golden medal on his bosom, and a heart like a lump of lead.