Between
them they were reason, and health, and strength. If, too, they had always
triumphed athwart obstacles and tears, it was only by reason of their
long agreement, their common fealty amid an eternal renewal of their
love, whose armor rendered them invincible. They could not be conquered,
they had conquered by the very power of their union without designing it.
And they ended heroically, as conquerors of happiness, hand in hand, pure
as crystal is, very great, very handsome, the more so from their extreme
age, their long, long life, which one love had entirely filled. And the
sole strength of their innumerable offspring now gathered there, the
conquering tribe that had sprung from their loins, was the strength of
union inherited from them: the loyal love transmitted from ancestors to
children, the mutual affection which impelled them to help one another
and ever fight for a better life in all brotherliness.
But mirthful sounds arose, the banquet was at last being served. All the
servants of the farm had gathered to discharge this duty--they would not
allow a single person from without to help them. Nearly all had grown up
on the estate, and belonged, as it were, to the family.
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