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Le Baiser de La Mort

Le Baiser de La Mort

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Published by: Charlotte Reyes Poland on Jun 11, 2011
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Le Baiser De La Mort Essay, Research Le Baiser De La Mort Essay, Research Paper The Kiss of Death

Short syncopated clopping echoed throughout the desolate ally ways that wound through the dark outer limits of Bordeaux, France. An eerie stillness hung in the air, and at the same time, an unsettling anticipation. The lanky coachman lashed out at his team of horses, who already pushed on in an uneasy canter. Rain drizzled lazily from a dreary sky; a grave contrast to the surreal restlessness that consumed the inhabitants of the city. Signs of the great black plague had been sighted in a small village along the Garonne River. So close to Bordeaux.

Flat brick walls and dank ally ways flashed by, swirling together into a cold gray nothingness, as glimpsed from inside the jerking stagecoach. Pulling her satin wrap closer about her shoulders, the Duchess of Bordeaux shivered, trying to rid herself of the ominous awareness that had settled thickly around her, as a dense fog that enmeshes itself upon a boggy landscape. The coach came to an abrupt halt, shattering the portentous mindset the duchess had lapsed into. The rain had begun to pound mercilessly upon the marble pavement that led to a vast castle. In moments, the rain condensed into tiny shinning globes, cracking like a thousand claps of thunder as each hit the stone pathway. The Duchess winced as the hailstones lashed at her exposed flesh, hastening to fasten her cloak upon her chin. Her arm raised to protect her eyes from the treacherous frozen rain, she began the trek up the tedious marble stair case to her grand ch?teau; as she climbed, the marble became encased in a thick layer of frost.

Breathless, and her cheeks colored crimson as a blazing flame, the Duchess entered through the heavy oak doors leading into the large vestibule that served as an entrance room into the richly furnished palace of the French royal family. Edgily, she allowed the servants to remove her soaked garments, and at speed withdrew to her private chamber. Wasting no time, the Duchess removed a sturdy piece of

The cries from the streets were deafening and the stench unbearable.Page 2 of 5 parchment from a chest of drawers and obtained a quill and ink. He was to tell no one and do this as quickly as possible. In the course of the evening. He would refill their goblets with his most potent and matured French wines until they were drunk hence he could discuss important matters of business and swindle them out of large sums of gold. Writing feverishly. She wrung her hands nervously. his sharp features and protruding chest reminded her of the arrogant peacock. clutching onto their wailing infants with gritty rags held over their mouths to prevent the horrors of infection. She imagined him adorned in his lavish costume. With one hand positioning a piece cloth over his mouth and his other tightly gripping the rein. accompanied by laughter as clear and carefree as sleigh bells. her husband was entertaining the nobles by way of his usual extravagant masquerades. Summoning for a servant. Dismayed by the gruesome scene . Below. To be expected. the Duchess listened to the blithe percussion as it thumped rhythmically. infected children lay coughing and bleeding at the messenger's feet and he turned his steed gingerly in order to avoid them. Wagons screeched past the messenger with masses of rotting flesh strewn upon them. She would await his return and deliver his payment as soon as the task was completed. She returned to her own chambers to ready herself for the ball. always one to boaster his bright feathers. although she could not evade raising the Duke's own suspicions. the duke. and sealed it with the official royal seal when she had finished. the Duchess stole into the west corridor that led into the Duke's bedroom chamber. an outspoken political man who was a popular contact of the Duke himself. Women were huddled over. the messenger trotted through the filth of Bordeaux searching for Miseur Matthieu Brousseau's dwelling. the servant was quick to detect the retched smells about. Her expression darkened. pompous and self-assured would be perched upon his ruby-laden thrown. she gave orders to him such that he was to deliver this letter by way of a lone messanger who would be waiting at the bottom of the castle steps. she toiled for an hour over the essential dispatch. Throughout the damp narrow streets. Once beyond the gates of the palace. Quietly. the Duchess's messenger galloped with haste to the residence of Matthieu Brousseau. to retrieve his master key. pretending to be generous and cordial to his guests. Carrying through the ducts in the high cathedral ceilings. hoping her husband would make allowances for her at the masquerade long enough for her to receive word about her letter.

Ashamedly she endured this this. An hour passed. Being crafty and advantageous. contorted into permanent expressions leered at her. the eyes behind them dancing to the transcendental tones of the music. the Duchess crossed the threshold of the marvelous ballroom scene. the Duchess' lover. but pressed on in fear of the Duke's wrath. by selling his knowledge to the Duke. she retired. haunted by the scene behind her. complaining that she felt faint. In her letter she had transmitted word of this meeting. As the clock struck ten strokes post meridian. the duchess stole out into the dark cold.. he could feel disease creep closer upon him. At dusk. As quickly as she had entered the party. he decided to deliver the letter but also to use the information it contained to make himself a small fortune. In a moment of defiance. the dim light that had shone upon the Brousseau mansion porch suddenly extinguished. With each breath. entering the castle through different doorways. Behind him. The brute was intoxicated. she went out into the gathering in search of her despised husband. and then suddenly a tall broad shouldered figure appeared stalwartly from within the shadows. repeating to herself that soon she would no longer have to. but his anger was soon forgotten and he took to aggressive fondling. in search of Miseur Brousseau. Strange painted masks. Uncertainly she climbed the ballroom stairs. and rapidly skimmed its contents. He at last arrived at the house of Miseur Matthieu Brousseau. The servant efficiently sealed the envelope back into position and hurdled off upon the chestnut horse.Page 3 of 5 in the streets. Anger began to boil his insides as he speculated what matter of importance could have sent him out into these poisonous streets. and both parted. he contemplated returning to the castle. In a stuttering rage he cursed her for entering the party so late and embarrassing him in front of his guests. a play land in the midst of Death Valley. . Unraveling a plot warped by the evils of lust and repression. Forcing herself to uphold a dignified air. The Duchess cried out and ran to greet the stranger and the lovers shared a frenzied embraced. and as she approached his side he violently seized her arm. and she awaited Matthieu?s arrival with great apprehension. the servant soon realized the truth about Royal politics and the corruption of his Lord and Lady. A quarter of an hour passed in furtive discourse. a fragment of guilt imprinted upon their faces. the messenger snatched the correspondence clutched in his boot.

They had escaped his depraved grasp. At the top of the stairs. and then right. As she wove her way through the dense crowd. an aching puddle of blood. Mattieu pressed a silver piece into the palm of the young boy. Finally. There was not one black cape to be found. He did however. they met a frightened looking young servant. fear for his own health and issued a proclamation that very morning: no person would be allowed to leave or enter the castle gates until further mention. their love could flourish with out the selfish and arduous persecution of the Duke. she peered into the faces of a hundred men receiving only cold unfamiliar nods in return. When the sun appeared they would flee France. forcing her to sway left. The long numinous vibrato controlled her. the orchestra stuck up a sad. Stumbling through the crimson clad crowd. She was pulled indiscreetly to a dimly lit hallway. It was a red mass. The ballroom was stripped of last night?s black and gold d?cor and strewn in purple and crimson. The timepiece again struck Ten o?clock. and crossed the castle grounds stealthily until they reached the stables. A small sacrifice for one who lavishes in merriment and games as his nation decays. The King also issued a command that banned the adornment of the color black from his palace. but were about to take part in a much graver predator. Matthieu?s chiseled features were set in a frown. Where was Matthieu? A strong grip abruptly took hold of the duchess?s forearm. Beckoning that there was not much time. eerie melody. dragging behind him a heavy burlap sack. A wave of panic washed over the Duchess. They stole out into the night.Page 4 of 5 News of the plague had spread like wild fire through out the city. There they would stay in secret until the first streak of daylight. postmeridian. where her strange escort unmasked himself. Another masquerade would be given at the Duke?s expense that evening. leaving instructions to open the sac and plant it in to dukes bed clothes. he led the Duchess up a staircase. and the chamber key. She was cast through the moving mass. disturbing her and pressing her on in frantic pursuit. which swayed with a single heartbeat. although the Duke?s concern for the welfare of his people was cold-blooded and unattached. The Queen entered the ballroom searching for a crimson masked gentleman clad in an ebony cloak. The lovers trampled down the staircase and stole out a cellar entrance of the castle. in respect to those dying on the streets of what had come to be known as the Black Plague. . a million blank painted faces with shadowed sockets that bore into her.

the messenger unturned the velvet coverlet. Raged seized the ruler. next to a figure that he had supposed was his wife. in order to warn him of the coming events. Knowing he could not save himself. The disquiet caused by the messenger entering the chamber awoken the Duke. he fell into a fitful slumber. the messenger entered the castle and made his way to the Duke?s bedchamber. waking only a few hours later. blood rushed to his bloated features. as the first streaks of daybreak shone crimson and purple across a newly lit morning sky. Standing above her. There was the King fast asleep.Page 5 of 5 The messenger had watched the entire escapade. He embraced her and kissed her passionately. He called together his cortege and made his way to the stables. A kiss of death. Next to the sleeping king was the heavy burlap sack. As he waited for the festivities to come to a close. Hastily. 32f . he thought only of revenge upon his ungrateful wife. There was no need for an explanation of what had befallen. but afraid that his lapse into dreamland had cost the Duke his life. the duchess awoke. There. his temples pulsing. expecting the events to pass exactly as they had transpired. Inside was an infected corpse. Cringing. his face twisted into a smile. was the Duke.

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