The Argosy — page 236: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

224 A Lady of St. Cyr. . young face, now for the first time brought into the full light, was so fresh, pure, and charming, that it elicited a word of approbation from the great Louis himself, never blind to, female beauty ; and in the row of courtiers behind him, this became, with the vociferous echo of adula- tion, a loud hum of applause. For a moment, a tremor and a blush choked the voice of the young actress ; but a soft nipple of encourage- ment, or some better feeling, restored her calmness, and in another moment there arose, in a clear soprano, that beautiful verse in which the young Jewess sings alone the lament over Zion abased unto the dust. The play was Racine’s immortal “ Esther,” wntten for ‘‘ Les Dames de St. Cyr,” the youthful protégées of the great and wise, and, let us be- lieve, the good Madame de Maintenon. The poet was there, listening with an apparent indifference to the verse, and a complete absorption in the acting; the great of the land were there, to do honour to the bene- volence of her who was their queen in all but name. On one of these, the eye of that remarkable woman suddenly rested when the young girl's song began. She marked his start, his heightened colour, the rapid passage of his hand across his eyes. The play went on, but his embarrassment continued ; and when again that sweet voice had arisen and ceased, the white, firm hand of Madame de Maintenon beckoned him to her side. He was a stern man, prematurely aged ; and in spite of the elegant dissimulation of that most polished court, he could not entirely control his features as she said to him with a certain meaning in her clear, smooth tones: ‘You appear touched by the charms of our young chorister, Mon- sieur le Duc. Does her face awaken any remembrance? Her name is Lucie Lemeunier. I keep her here until she shall be claimed by those who have a better mght to the honour and happiness of maintaining her.” The duke murmured some indistinct reply. In a lower and more significant tone, Madame de Maintenon continued: ‘“ Her mother died in poverty, and the child might have died of hunger but for the Princess Marie Amélie and my poor self.” The Duke de Ste. Barbe fell back with a low bow into the little crowd of courtiers behind the royal chair. He was a childless man, and often in his loneliness the thought of his beautiful sister, and the child whom he had never seen, had haunted him. The play was ended. With a profound and ineffable joy, due only to the approbation of One who Is the King of kings, the young girls had received the praises of the monarch; great in the eyes of men: great or little in the eyes of the ever-watching angels? No one asked the question. ‘“‘ Madame, they have played admirably,” said one noble lord to her who was the mainspring of it all. _ COMIC OOOKS.EO