Черный тюльпан

Cornelius van Baerle’s Will

           Thehead-dressturnedround,andCorneliusbeheldthefaceofRosa,blanchedwithgrief,andherbeautifuleyesstreamingwithtears.

           ShewentuptoCornelius,crossingherarmsonherheavingbreast.

           “Oh,sir,sir!”shesaid,butsobschokedherutterance.

           “Mygoodgirl,”Corneliusrepliedwithemotion,“whatdoyouwish?Imaytellyouthatmytimeonearthisshort.”

           “Icometoaskafavourofyou,”saidRosa,extendingherarmspartlytowardshimandpartlytowardsheaven.

           “Don’tweepso,Rosa,”saidtheprisoner,“foryourtearsgomuchmoretomyheartthanmyapproachingfate,andyouknow,thelessguiltyaprisoneris,themoreitishisdutytodiecalmly,andevenjoyfully,ashediesamartyr.Come,there’sadear,don’tcryanymore,andtellmewhatyouwant,myprettyRosa.”

           Shefellonherknees.“Forgivemyfather,”shesaid.

           “Yourfather,yourfather!”saidCornelius,astonished.

           “Yes,hehasbeensoharshtoyou;butitishisnature,heissotoeveryone,andyouarenottheonlyonewhomhehasbullied.”

           “Heispunished,mydearRosa,morethanpunished,bytheaccidentthathasbefallenhim,andIforgivehim.”

           “Ithankyou,sir,”saidRosa.“Andnowtellmeoh,tellmecanIdoanythingforyou?”

           “Youcandryyourbeautifuleyes,mydearchild,”answeredCornelius,withagood-temperedsmile.

           “ButwhatcanIdoforyou,foryouImean?”

           “AmanwhohasonlyonehourlongertolivemustbeagreatSybaritestilltowantanything,mydearRosa.

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