The Scarlet Pimpernel is a classic adventure novel written by Baroness Orczy, first published in 1905. It tells the story of Marguerite St. Just, a French actress and the wife of wealthy English fop Sir Percy Blakeney, who is secretly the Scarlet Pimpernel, a daring and heroic figure who rescues aristocrats from the guillotine during the Reign of Terror of the French Revolution.
Marguerite is a complex and multifaceted character, and her relationship with the Scarlet Pimpernel is central to the novel. At the beginning of the story, Marguerite is a frivolous and shallow socialite, more concerned with her own pleasure and status than with the suffering of others. She is married to Sir Percy, who is handsome and charming, but she is unhappy in her marriage and feels neglected by her husband.
As the novel progresses, Marguerite is drawn into the world of the Scarlet Pimpernel and becomes increasingly involved in his efforts to save the lives of aristocrats. She discovers that her husband is the Pimpernel and is shocked by the revelation, but she is also proud of his bravery and selflessness. Marguerite becomes more compassionate and empathetic as she learns about the atrocities being committed during the Revolution, and she starts to see the value of the Pimpernel's work.
Ultimately, Marguerite becomes a key member of the Pimpernel's network, helping to smuggle aristocrats out of France and working to gather intelligence about the Pimpernel's enemies. She grows to love and respect her husband, and their relationship becomes stronger as they work together to save lives.
The Scarlet Pimpernel is a thrilling adventure story that celebrates the power of love and the human spirit to triumph over adversity. Marguerite is a compelling and dynamic character who undergoes a remarkable transformation, and her role in the novel is crucial to the success of the Pimpernel's mission.
The Scarlet Pimpernel (TV Movie 1982)
Just a very intelligent French woman married the extremely wealthy Englishman Sir Percival Blakeney with whom she was madly in love with. Marguerite was passionately fond of music. Just, was deep and touching in the extreme. Marguerite burst into a long, merry peal of laughter. Armand and Marguerite, both intellectual, thinking beings, adopted with the enthusiasm of their years the Utopian doctrines of the Revolution, while the Marquis de St.
But through the later conflicts, it became even clearer that she was thoughtful and loving, because she crushed her pride before Sir Percy and only wanted his forgiveness 146, 3. She has unwittingly betrayed her husband, whose love she has sworn to win back, and with the help of Sir Andrew, she travels to France to warn him. For example, they did not come to the conclusion that Marguerite cared greatly about her brother, Armand, because it was stated directly. Her very soul recoiled in horror from these excesses, to which she feared her brother Armand—moderate republican as he was—might become one day the holocaust. The tension of subdued excitement was relieved, and the next moment everyone was laughing and chatting merrily as the gay crowd broke up and dispersed in the adjoining rooms.
The Scarlet Pimpernel Chapter 5: Marguerite Summary & Analysis
That the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel had no intention of abandoning its cause, she had gathered through little Suzanne herself, who spoke openly of the assurance she and her mother had had that the Comte de Tournay would be rescued from France by the league, within the next few days. But I only thought to bring that proud marquis to trouble and humiliation. Sir Andrew marries the count's daughter, Suzanne. They knew, as a matter of fact, that Marguerite St. Marguerite did not feel equal to another dance; there is a limit to the most enduring self-control.
Marguerite St. Just / Lady Blakeney Character Analysis in The Scarlet Pimpernel
Jellyband was heard echoing along the passage and staircase. And all only for sport? Sir Percy Blakeney had loved her once; he was her husband; why should she stand alone through this terrible ordeal? Jellyband always made a special selection of him as a foil for political arguments, but throughout the neighbourhood, where his learning and notably his knowledge of the Scriptures was held in the most profound awe and respect. At the palace, the League convinces the Prince that they have nothing to do with the Pimpernel's activities. Birds began to twitter; Nature awakened, smiling in happy response to the warmth of this glorious October morning. Just, the brother of beautiful Lady Blakeney—though known to hold moderate and conciliatory views—was an ardent republican; his feud with the ancient family of St. Portly in build, jovial in countenance and somewhat bald of pate, Mr. With that perfect, somewhat affected gallantry which characterised his every movement, he opened the coffee-room door for her, and made her the most approved and elaborate bow, which the fashion of the time dictated, as she sailed out of the room without bestowing on him more than a passing, slightly contemptuous glance.
Chauvelin smiled benignly, and rubbing his long, thin hands together, he looked round the deserted supper-room, whence even the last flunkey had retired in order to join his friends in the hall below. Sergeant Grospierre had been sent to the guillotine for allowing a whole family of aristos to slip out of the North Gate under his very nose. Marguerite Blakeney stepped on to the porch and looked out to sea. The sun was sinking low down in the west. Jellyband, who was profuse in his bows and welcomes, a party of four—two ladies and two gentlemen—entered the coffee-room.
However, to Chauvelin's utter bewilderment, Percy stands up from the guillotine unharmed. Marguerite, with dainty affection, had kissed her hand to the ladies, as they disappeared through the door, then a humorous smile began hovering round the corners of her mouth. Armand, too, was noble and brave, Armand, too, was unsuspecting. Had she but turned back then, and looked out once more on to the rose-lit garden, she would have seen that which would have made her own sufferings seem but light and easy to bear—a strong man, overwhelmed with his own passion and his own despair. She was pale as a statue, her hands were icy cold, her head and heart throbbed with the awful strain upon her nerves. Bibot would look at his prey as a cat looks upon the mouse, play with him, sometimes for quite a quarter of an hour, pretend to be hoodwinked by the disguise, by the wigs and other bits of theatrical make-up which hid the identity of a ci-devant noble marquise or count. I have made my wife laugh! They were calmly finishing their game of dominoes, and did not even look once towards the door.
Lady Marguerite Blakeney in the Scarlet Pimpernel Character Analysis Free Essay Example
She had spoken in English, so that all might hear and understand; the two young English gentlemen was as well as the common innkeeper and his daughter. Certainly at the moment he seemed to take it very quietly; hardly, in fact, did he appear to understand the meaning of all she said; but what was more certain still, was that never after that could she detect the slightest sign of that love, which she once believed had been wholly hers. Woman-like, she thought of him with unmixed sadness; the irony of that fate seemed so cruel which allowed the fearless lion to succumb to the gnawing of a rat! He spoke to one or two of their drivers—mostly women—and was at great pains to examine the inside of the carts. Pride had conquered, and he cared naught for her. She had told him before that this mysterious hero of romance was the talk of the smart set to which she belonged; already, before this, her heart and her imagination had been stirred by the thought of the brave man, who, unknown to fame, had rescued hundreds of lives from a terrible, often an unmerciful fate.
With one hand buried in the capacious pockets of his corduroys underneath his elaborately-worked, well-worn smock, the other holding his long clay pipe, Mr. Here and there, dotted about among distinctly English types of beauty, one or two foreign faces stood out in marked contrast: the haughty aristocratic cast of countenance of the many French royalist émigrés who, persecuted by the relentless, revolutionary faction of their country, had found a peaceful refuge in England. Just, who loved her so dearly, felt that he had placed a somewhat clumsy finger upon an aching wound. Percy promises to save him. Pitt had shaken him by the hand; Lord Grenville had entertained him more than once; but the more intimate circles of London society ignored him altogether; the women openly turned their backs upon him; the men who held no official position refused to shake his hand.
Later on in the evening she caught sight of Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and Lord Antony Dewhurst, who seemingly had just arrived. Her still overwrought nerves, her excitement and agitation, lent beautiful Marguerite Blakeney much additional charm: escorted by a veritable bevy of men of all ages and of most nationalities, she called forth many exclamations of admiration from everyone as she passed. A discreet rap at the door roused Marguerite from her thoughts. He was blindly enthusiastic for the revolutionary cause, he despised all social inequalities, and he had a burning love for his own country: these three sentiments made him supremely indifferent to the snubs he received in this fog-ridden, loyalist, old-fashioned England. Â Meeting him a year prier she married him leaving most to believe she had married him for his extreme wealth. One room had been set apart for dancing, and the dainty strains of the minuet made a soft accompaniment to the gay chatter, the merry laughter of the numerous and brilliant company. Bibot had a keen sense of humour, and it was well worth hanging round that West Barricade, in order to see him catch an aristo in the very act of trying to flee from the vengeance of the people.
There was general commotion in the coffee-room. Marguerite is exceptionally intelligent, and she certainly knows how and why Suzanne is there in England now. . The mask of the inane fop had been a good one, and the part consummately well played. But, somehow, I feel as if I could not go away and leave you now without asking you one question.