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"By my faith!" replied the King, "I sometimes think that this same gloomy Philip is more sovereign in France than the King thereof. But here come tidings from the Tiers Etats. Come, Monsieur Artau, how have gone the deliberations of the States? What say our good Commons to war with Savoy?"
"They go against it altogether, Sire," replied the officer who now entered. "Chapelle Marteau spoke against it vehemently, declared that it was but a plundering excursion of some light troops, who had carried off a few thousand crowns, while it would cost many millions to carry on a war with Savoy: and then, up got another, and talked of imposts and taxes and the poverty of the state, and said that millions and hundreds of millions had been lost in peculation and extravagance.
If your Majesty indeed, he said, would bear two-thirds of the expense out of your domain, and would cut down your tall trees, or mortgage a part of the royal forests, the Commons would see what could be done."
"By Heaven!" exclaimed Henry stamping his foot, "when they keep me here, a throned beggar, without a crown in my pocket, to give a jewel to a mistress or a friend, they expect me to carry on the defence of the country at my own expense! On my soul! I have a great mind to cast away the sceptre, to go down into the ranks of a private gentleman, and name my rule-loving mother to govern in my stead: or faith, I care not if it were Guise himself. He would teach these surly citizens what it is to have an iron rod over their heads. By the Lord! he would not spare the backs of the porkers. Hie thee, good Artau to the Clergy at the Jacobins; see what they say to the matter. And what say you, Villequier, to my scheme of abdicating?"
"Why, Sire," replied Villequier calmly, "I think it is an excellent good one. But I hope, in the first place, that you will give a few thoughts to what I told you concerning the young Marquis de Montsoreau and the hundred thousand crowns he promised on the day of his marriage with Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. You know your Majesty has claimed the lion's share; and seventy-five thousand crowns at the present moment, or any time between this and Christmas, might serve to give your Majesty a new lace to your doublet, or a new doublet to your lace, for to my mind both are plaguy rusty. Now, though the re-appearance of this young Count of Logeres will cut down the amount of his brother's estates most terribly, yet that affects me more than you, Sire; and by having made inquiries I find, to a certainty, that he is quite capable of paying the money the moment the marriage is concluded."
"Seventy-five thousand crowns!" repeated the King thoughtfully.
"Seventy-five thousand crowns! Why, my friend, I think that neither you or I have heard of such a thing since we had beards. But how does all this square with my giving the crown to Guise, which you approved so highly?"
"Oh, extremely well, Sire," replied Villequier. "The crown I would have you give him is neither the crown of France nor of Poland: I would give him an immortal crown, Sire. You will fit him better, depend upon it, that way than with a terrestrial one. His aspiring spirit seeks the skies, and, could I deal with him, should very soon find them. However, you will remember that your royal word, as well as mine, is pledged to the young Marquis de Montsoreau."
A dark smile came over the King's face. "We will see, Villequier; we will see," he said. "My word must be kept and shall not be broken. The morning of Christmas-day the Duke has fixed for the marriage. Who knows what may happen between this and then, Villequier. She is then absolutely your ward failing the Duke of Guise, and we will have no hesitation or delay, when we have the power to compel obedience. But we must be very cautious, Villequier; we must be very cautious. We must neither seem pleased with this business of the marriage, for then he would suspect us of some concealed design; nor must we oppose him strongly, because that would put him on his guard; and I fear me, that all the crowns in France could not do me so much good as the Duke of Guise could do me harm if he were offended."
"Without being slain," replied Villequier in a low tone. "Oh no, my Lord, I know well, a wounded boar is always the most dangerous."
The King smiled again in the same dark and sinister manner, but he made no reply to Villequier's insinuation--perhaps still doubtful of his own purposes, perhaps prevented from speaking openly by the return of Monsieur D'Artau.
"What! so soon come back?" exclaimed Henry. "You cannot judge of the tone of the a.s.sembly, D'Artau. You should have heard more of their deliberations."
"There was no more to hear, Sire," replied D'Artau. "The Clergy were all agreed; every body had become wonderfully pacific in a moment.
There had not been one voice raised for war, and fifty or sixty were raised against it; so their deliberations, as I have said, were almost concluded at the time I entered. They went to no vote, indeed, upon the subject, but agreed to pa.s.s on to another question."
"The villains! the crows!" exclaimed the King. "What did they give us as reasons, did you hear?"
"Why, they said, Sire," replied the officer, "that they had taxed themselves, time after time, for the purpose of carrying on the war with the Huguenots; that they had now again taxed themselves to the utmost of their means, and would not consent that any part of the sum thus raised should be diverted to make war upon their fellow Catholics, while nothing had yet been done against the enemies of their faith."
"The specious hypocrites!" exclaimed Henry. "But what said they all to the absence of the Duke of Guise?"
"It was said, Sire, as I heard, by several people, that he had evidently absented himself from policy, not wis.h.i.+ng to oppose your Majesty, and yet unwilling to go to war with Savoy. Some said, indeed, Sire," he continued, "that Chapelle Marteau had acknowledged that this was the case. But that could not be so either, for the Duke sent for the President of the Tiers Etats last night, without being able to find him. That I know from the servants, so that what Chapelle said must have been out of his own head; while, on the contrary, I hear that Monsieur Magnac and the Count de Brissac, who were with the Duke for more than an hour last night, spoke vehemently against the Duke of Savoy amongst the n.o.bles at the Palais de Justice. Thus the n.o.bles were as unanimous for the war, as the other two States were against it."
"That should be the foot-fall of a Guise in the antechamber," said the King. "Who is without there?"
"The Duke of Guise, your Majesty," said a page entering almost as the King spoke, "craves audience for a moment."
"Admit him," said the King; "admit him:" and the next instant the Duke of Guise entered hastily in a riding dress.
"Your Majesty's gracious pardon," he said, "for presenting myself before you thus: but I heard tidings, as I came along, which I believed might give you great and exceeding pain."
"Well may it give me pain, cousin of Guise," replied the King. "Well may it give me pain, to find that my subjects are so insensible to their own honour or to mine, as to suffer a foreign enemy to encamp upon our native soil, without doing what best we may to drive him forth."
"It may, indeed, Sire," replied the Duke of Guise. "But the matter has not been properly explained; and neither the Tiers Etats nor the Clergy have seen it in its true light."
"But where was the Duke of Guise to explain it?" demanded Henry.
"Where was the Generalissimo of my armies, the Lieutenant-general of my kingdom, the Grand Master of my household, the man whose voice is only second to my own in France--ay, and by Heavens! whose voice is sometimes first likewise? Where was he, I say; and how came he not to be present?"
"From the simplest of all possible causes, Sire," replied the Duke.
"The business regularly appointed for this morning's discussion by the States was a mere trifling matter of some petty impost. I had not told your Majesty last night of this affair of Savoy, because I thought it would spoil the pleasure of your evening, and perhaps disturb your rest. I myself, however, neglected nothing. I instantly dispatched orders, in your Majesty's name, to my brother of Mayenne, to advance towards Piedmont with troops from Lyons. Before I rested, I sent for the Presidents of the n.o.bles and of the Tiers Etats. The latter, however, was not to be found; but I told Brissac and Magnac what had occurred, and begged them to prepare all minds for vigorous measures against Savoy, without disclosing the actual fact of aggression, that fact having only reached me by the excessive speed of my brother's courier. I felt perfectly certain that the news could not be known till to-night or to-morrow morning; and how it happened that your Majesty was informed of it so early, as to send down a message thereon to each of the three Estates, I really do not know."
"Very simply, my good cousin of Guise," replied the King, whose face had now relaxed from the harsh and acrid aspect it had borne throughout the morning; "it was Miron told me."
"I had forgotten, I had forgotten," replied the Duke. "He was in the room when the packet arrived, and I must have given vent to my thoughts aloud."
"Well, under such circ.u.mstances," replied the King, "I suppose I must pardon, cousin of Guise, your having gone to pay your homage somewhere else, as Monsieur de Villequier insinuates, when the King much wanted your presence."
"Monsieur de Villequier is, as usual, wrong," replied the Duke of Guise frowning upon him. "Where he seeks for or finds such abundance of evil motives to attribute to other men, I do not know. May it not be in his own bosom? I went, for your Majesty's service, to inspect a body of three thousand men, about to march early this morning from Laucome to join the army of the Duke of Nevers, and it was only as I returned that I heard of this unfortunate business."
"Perhaps his Highness thinks," said Villequier, not unwilling to increase any feeling of ill-will between the King and the Duke, "perhaps his Highness thinks that your Majesty would have done more wisely to have waited till his return, and not to have communicated the news from Savoy at all to the States, till you had consulted him upon it."
Villequier had almost said, "till you had asked his permission;" but he feared that a part of the King's anger might fall back upon himself. The Duke of Guise, however, saw through all his purposes in a moment, and replied, "Far from it, Monsieur de Villequier! I think, on the contrary, that I should have done more wisely if, instead of inspecting the troops at all--although Nevers, who is my enemy, might have reproached me for neglect--I had waited till the King had risen, to convey the expression of his will in person to the States-General, Sire, I humbly crave your Majesty's pardon for this one instance of neglect; and, to prove how sorry I am that it has occurred, I will undertake to show the Clergy and the Commons such good motives for changing their decision, that your Majesty's name and honour shall not suffer by the invasion of your territories unresisted."
"They will refuse you, Guise; they will refuse you," replied the King.
"I know them well. You think to rule them, Guise; but the first time you speak of money to Commons or to Clergy, you will find that cabalistic word, money, acts on them as the sign of the cross upon the fiends we read of, and makes the seeming angels resume their shapes of devils in a moment."
"Well, Sire, well," exclaimed the Duke of Guise, tossing his lofty head with a proud smile, "if they refuse us, we will shame them. You and I together will put our lances in the rest, as in days of old: we will call the n.o.bility of France about us; and I will promise, at my own expense, without craving these penurious Commons for a sol, with my own men and your Majesty's good help, in three weeks' time to drive the Savoyard back to his mountain den. But no, Sire, no! They will not refuse me; and I pledge myself before this hour to-morrow to bring you such tidings from both clergy and commons as you could wish to hear."
"If you do, cousin," cried the King eagerly, "if you do, you are my best of friends and counsellors for ever."
"Fear not. Sire; fear not," replied the Duke of Guise; "I will be bold to undertake it. But I must see the presidents and some of the deputies speedily, to know what are the vain and idle notions on which they have hesitated in regard to a step imperatively necessary. I will therefore humbly take my leave, beseeching you to think well of me during my absence, even though my good Lord of Villequier be at your Majesty's right elbow."
Thus saying the Duke retired, and the King, turning to Villequier, asked with some anxiety "Think you, Villequier, that he will succeed?"
"I know not, Sire," replied Villequier; "but I should judge not. They have too far committed themselves to retract, let the question be what it would, but are not at all likely to retract where money is concerned."
"Well, well," said the King; "I will hope the best. And now, Villequier, we must think of what can be done, in order not to lose the seventy-five thousand crowns. Mort Dieu! What a sum! In the very first place, we must call hither your young friend, wherever he may be, without loss of an hour. We must not have him appear at the Court, however. He must lie concealed, but be ready at a moment's notice. Let him bring what men he can with him. But above all, do not let him forget the crowns, Villequier. Let them be prepared.--Nay, smile not, I have a scheme for the purpose, which will mature itself in time. But no good plan should ever be hurried, and it should always be formed of elements as ductile as warm wax, that it may fit itself into the mould of circ.u.mstances. It will mature itself in time, Villequier; it will mature itself in time. But now to this other terrible business."
"Pray, Sire, what is that?" demanded Villequier with some alarm, for since his arrival at Blois Henry had shown so much more activity and application to serious matters, that even his favourite had forgotten his character. "Pray, what terrible business does your Majesty speak of?"
"Have you not heard," exclaimed the King, "have you not heard, that the boat was upset in coming down the Loire--the boat with the parrots and monkeys; and my great beautiful black ape, Ridolin-din-din, was nearly drowned, and has caught such a cold, that it is feared he will die!--Sweet creature, he is a beauty, and in his woollen nightcap and long gown is not at all unlike my mother. Poor fellow, have you not heard him coughing in the room beyond? I must go and give him some confection of quinces."
During a considerable portion of the day Henry devoted himself to his ape, but towards evening his anxiety in regard to the States and to the eruption of the Duke of Savoy seized upon him again. This was terribly increased by the arrival of a new courier, bearing more ample particulars than the former. The king slept ill at night, and rose early the next morning; but still all the reports brought him of the disposition of the States made him imagine that no means would be taken to curb the enemy, and that he himself would be left by his subjects the mockery and by-word of Europe, unable to repel the outrages of even the pettiest of all the neighbouring princes. The sneers of many of his favourites and courtiers at the Duke of Guise, too--their ironical smiles at the very idea of his being able to change the announced determination of two great bodies in the State, tended to irritate the King still more, and to drive him almost to madness.
In this state of mind he was walking up and down his chamber between eleven and twelve o'clock on the succeeding day, when suddenly hearing the bustle of many feet without, he himself threw open the door and beheld the Duke of Guise approaching with his usual train and several other persons.
There was in the n.o.ble countenance of the Duke the glad consciousness of success; but Henry, eager for confirmation, exclaimed, "What is it, cousin of Guise? What is it? Uncertainty drives me wild."
"Health to your Majesty," replied the Duke. "These gentlemen who follow me. Messieurs Brissac and Magnac, the Presidents of the n.o.bility, the Archbishop of Lyons representing the Clergy, and my good friend, Chapelle Marteau, President of the Third Estate, humbly approach your Majesty with a pet.i.tion, that as the Duke of Savoy has committed a wanton infringement upon the territories of France, you would be graciously pleased to p.r.o.nounce a declaration of war against that Prince, in which your dutiful subjects will aid and support your Majesty to the best of their ability."
The King's joy knew no bounds, and throwing his arms around the Duke of Guise, he kissed him on both cheeks. Recovering himself, however, in a few minutes, he received the deputies from the States with some degree of dignity. His joy, however, was still exuberant; and, in dismissing the pet.i.tioners, he said that the declaration should be immediately issued, and that he would trust to his best friend and wisest counsellor, pointing to the Duke of Guise, to repel speedily, with that unconquerable hand which had won so many victories, this new aggression upon the territory of France.
As soon as the deputies were gone, he burst forth again in the same strain, vowing to the Duke that he loved him beyond every thing on earth, that his attachment should be unalterable and inviolate, and that whatever might be said or urged against the Duke, he would never believe it.
"Cousin of Guise," he exclaimed, "there are people who would fain persuade me that you aim at my crown, and perhaps there are others who may try to persuade you that I aim at your liberty or life, I know there are."
"Sire, we neither of us believe them," replied the Duke.
"Let us never believe them," answered the King; "let us never believe them. Let us swear, Guise, let us swear to hold good faith and undoubting sincerity and true friends.h.i.+p to each other for ever! Let us swear it upon the altar even now! Let us swear it by the Holy Communion, by which we dare not swear falsely, and then the insinuations of our enemies will be as empty air!"