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    Marquise de Ganges
    Marquise de Ganges
    Marquise de Ganges
    Ebook73 pages1 hour

    Marquise de Ganges

    By Alexandre Dumas

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    About this ebook

    With The Marquise de Ganges, Dumas tells a famous story in the region of Avignon. The originality compared to other stories of this tragedy is that the author researched what happened to the murderers, the Marquis and the couple's children. The contrast between the sweetness, kindness, beauty and truth the beautiful Marquise and greed, hypocrisy, treachery of the marquis and his brothers is highlighted.
    Alexandre Dumas (24 July 1802 – 5 December 1870), also known as Alexandre Dumas, père, was a French writer. His works have been translated into nearly 100 languages, and he is one of the most widely read French authors. Many of his historical novels of high adventure were originally published as serials, including The Count of Monte Cristo, The Three Musketeers, Twenty Years After, and The Vicomte de Bragelonne: Ten Years Later. His novels have been adapted since the early twentieth century for nearly 200 films. Dumas' last novel, The Knight of Sainte-Hermine, unfinished at his death, was completed by a scholar and published in 2005, becoming a bestseller. It was published in English in 2008 as The Last Cavalier.

    Prolific in several genres, Dumas began his career by writing plays, which were successfully produced from the first. He also wrote numerous magazine articles and travel books; his published works totaled 100,000 pages. In the 1840s, Dumas founded the Théâtre Historique in Paris.
    The English playwright Watts Phillips, who knew Dumas in his later life, described him as, "the most generous, large-hearted being in the world. He also was the most delightfully amusing and egotistical creature on the face of the earth. His tongue was like a windmill – once set in motion, you never knew when he would stop, especially if the theme was himself."

     
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDumas Press
    Release dateFeb 28, 2018
    ISBN9788826424132
    Marquise de Ganges
    Author

    Alexandre Dumas

    Alexandre Dumas (1802-1870) was one of the literary lights of France during the Romantic Revolution, his complete works eventually filling over three hundred volumes. George Bernard Shaw described him as "one of the best storytellers…that ever lived." The Man in the Iron Mask and The Three Musketeers are available from Brilliance Audio.

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      Book preview

      Marquise de Ganges - Alexandre Dumas

      MARQUISE DE GANGES

      ..................

      Alexandre Dumas

      Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

      This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

      All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

      Copyright © 2018 www.deaddodopublishing.co.uk

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      THE MARQUISE DE GANGES—1657

      THE MARQUISE DE GANGES—1657

      ..................

      TOWARD THE CLOSE OF THE YEAR 1657, a very plain carriage, with no arms painted on it, stopped, about eight o’clock one evening, before the door of a house in the rue Hautefeuille, at which two other coaches were already standing. A lackey at once got down to open the carriage door; but a sweet, though rather tremulous voice stopped him, saying, Wait, while I see whether this is the place.

      Then a head, muffled so closely in a black satin mantle that no feature could be distinguished, was thrust from one of the carriage windows, and looking around, seemed to seek for some decisive sign on the house front. The unknown lady appeared to be satisfied by her inspection, for she turned back to her companion.

      It is here, said she. There is the sign.

      As a result of this certainty, the carriage door was opened, the two women alighted, and after having once more raised their eyes to a strip of wood, some six or eight feet long by two broad, which was nailed above the windows of the second storey, and bore the inscription, Madame Voison, midwife, stole quickly into a passage, the door of which was unfastened, and in which there was just so much light as enabled persons passing in or out to find their way along the narrow winding stair that led from the ground floor to the fifth story.

      The two strangers, one of whom appeared to be of far higher rank than the other, did not stop, as might have been expected, at the door corresponding with the inscription that had guided them, but, on the contrary, went on to the next floor.

      Here, upon the landing, was a kind of dwarf, oddly dressed after the fashion of sixteenth-century Venetian buffoons, who, when he saw the two women coming, stretched out a wand, as though to prevent them from going farther, and asked what they wanted.

      To consult the spirit, replied the woman of the sweet and tremulous voice.

      Come in and wait, returned the dwarf, lifting a panel of tapestry and ushering the two women into a waiting-room.

      The women obeyed, and remained for about half an hour, seeing and hearing nothing. At last a door, concealed by the tapestry, was suddenly opened; a voice uttered the word Enter, and the two women were introduced into a second room, hung with black, and lighted solely by a three-branched lamp that hung from the ceiling. The door closed behind them, and the clients found themselves face to face with the sibyl.

      She was a woman of about twenty-five or twenty-six, who, unlike other women, evidently desired to appear older than she was. She was dressed in black; her hair hung in plaits; her neck, arms, and feet were bare; the belt at her waist was clasped by a large garnet which threw out sombre fires. In her hand she held a wand, and she was raised on a sort of platform which stood for the tripod of the ancients, and from which came acrid and penetrating fumes; she was, moreover, fairly handsome, although her features were common, the eyes only excepted, and these, by some trick of the toilet, no doubt, looked inordinately large, and, like the garnet in her belt, emitted strange lights.

      When the two visitors came in, they found the soothsayer leaning her forehead on her hand, as though absorbed in thought. Fearing to rouse her from her ecstasy, they waited in silence until it should please her to change her position. At the end of ten minutes she raised her head, and seemed only now to become aware that two persons were standing before her.

      What is wanted of me again? she asked, and shall I have rest only in the grave?

      Forgive me, madame, said the sweet-voiced unknown, but I am wishing to know——

      Silence! said the sibyl, in a solemn voice. I will not know your affairs. It is to the spirit that you must address yourself; he is a jealous spirit, who forbids his secrets to be shared; I can but pray to him for you, and obey his will.

      At these words, she left her tripod, passed into an adjoining room, and soon returned, looking even paler and more anxious than before, and carrying in one hand a burning chafing dish, in the other a red paper. The three flames of the lamp grew fainter at the same moment, and the room was left lighted up only by the chafing dish; every object now assumed a fantastic air that did not fail to disquiet the two visitors, but it was too late to draw back.

      The soothsayer placed the chafing dish in the middle of the room, presented the paper to the young woman who had spoken, and said to her—

      Write down what you wish to know.

      The woman took the paper with a steadier hand than might have been expected, seated herself at a table, and wrote:—

      "Am I young? Am I beautiful? Am I maid, wife, or widow? This is for the past.

      Shall I marry, or marry again? Shall I live long, or shall I die young? This is for the future.

      Then, stretching out her hand to the soothsayer, she asked—

      What am I to do now with this?

      Roll that letter around this ball, answered the other, handing to the unknown a little ball of virgin wax. Both ball and letter will be consumed in the flame before your eyes; the spirit knows your secrets already. In three days you will have the answer.

      The unknown did as the sibyl bade her; then the latter took from her hands the ball and the

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