The Court Jester Part 24

CHAPTER XII

AN AUSTRIAN PRINCESS AT THE SPANISH COURT

Up from the south came the young Prince of the Asturias to meet his Austrian bride. His greeting was in accordance with the strictest rules of Spanish etiquette, but all were favorably impressed by his gracious affability and by the gentle dignity of his manner.

Under the eye of his thoughtful mother, this prince had been carefully educated to be the ruler of his country. As a child he was attended by pages of his own age, and they formed mimic councils and played at being grown-up rulers. He had been taught fencing by a celebrated swordsman, and at night his sword always hung at the head of his bed. When only twelve years of age he had been knighted on the battlefield by King Ferdinand, his father. He could paint and draw, and he could play on several different instruments, for Queen Isabella was determined that her son should be one of the most accomplished princes of his time.

The prince was accompanied by his royal father, and the Lady Marguerite and her suite were escorted in great state to the old city of Burgos.

Here they were met by the queen and the Spanish court.

The steed ridden by Queen Isabella was covered with crimson cloth richly embroidered with gold. Her saddle was like a chair of state, and she seemed as if seated on a moving throne. She was still a handsome woman, with gold-tinted hair and soft, earnest eyes. Following her, and mounted on richly-caparisoned mules, were scores of court ladies who seemed to have competed with each other in the magnificence of their costumes.

With other high dignitaries of the church came the queen's confessor, Ximenes, Archbishop of Toledo. This stern man was clothed in all the splendor of his office, but underneath these elegant robes, we are told, was haircloth which sc.r.a.ped his flesh, already bruised by the frequent beatings which he gave himself with a whip.

History tells us that Queen Isabella had taken great pains to arrange the meeting of the royal family with the Austrian princess, and that she had planned just who was to kiss and who was to embrace the young stranger, but however this may be, the ceremony pa.s.sed off in a satisfactory manner, and the Lady Marguerite was quite charmed with her new mother.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Never had preparations so grand been made]

Never had preparations so grand been made for royal nuptials as were arranged for the wedding of the Prince of the Asturias with the Lady Marguerite of Hapsburg. There were present grandees representing the chivalry of Spain, men who had distinguished themselves on the battlefield and in the tournament; there were amba.s.sadors from the courts of all the civilized world; there were dignitaries from all the cities of Spain, there were great ladies in glittering apparel, and the king and queen in their mantles of state; but most interesting of all was the young prince, whom his people already loved, and his fair young bride.

Dressed in his gayest suit, Le Glorieux stood where he could obtain the best view of his young mistress. At the most interesting moment, just as the ceremony was about to begin, there was a buzz of excitement around him, and Don Geronimo whispered in his ear, "Will you stand aside? I am looking for the pomander-box of Dona Clotilde, which has dropped to the floor." But the fool folded his arms and pretended not to hear.

And then followed days of fetes and tourneys and tilts. The Spanish people enjoyed these amus.e.m.e.nts in a dignified and even a serious manner, and when the princess and her suite laughed and clapped their hands at some particularly clever feat, the courtiers of Ferdinand and Isabella were shocked at such levity.

When the public rejoicings were over the prince and princess went to their palace at Salamanca, a city of beautiful creamy stone, built on three hills and in a horse-shoe shape, which, with its stately college of seventeen thousand students, gave many fetes and outdid itself in bull-fights to celebrate the coming of the youthful pair.

It is said that one of the first acts of Prince Juan was to engage professors and performers of music, both instrumental and vocal, who, with fiddles, organs, cymbals, hautboys, and other instruments, played the lively airs of Spain. He also had a large military band, and one afternoon when Le Glorieux was lounging in the window listening to its music, the princess entered the room. She wore a splendid gown with a very long train, and she looked quite tall and stately. It was the first time the jester had seen her alone since their arrival in this country, and he sprang to his feet, exclaiming, "Little Cousin----" just as he had addressed her since the beginning of their acquaintance. But the Princess of the Asturias held her head higher and eyed him coldly, without making a reply.

Very much chagrined at this treatment, for she ever had been most gracious in her manner toward him, the fool turned and was about to leave the room without another word, when he was startled by a merry laugh.

"Did I do it well?" she asked gayly.

"You did it too well! I was already homesick, and if you had turned to ice like the people of this country, I should have been broken-hearted.

Never was there a place so stiff and cold as this Spanish court. The king is shorter than the queen and is not very big to look at when you come to stature, but I would no more think of jesting with him, as I always did with Max, than I would think of sitting down to have a little fun with my grandmother's tomb. And I am not a man who is easily chilled, either!"

"I am told," said the princess, "that I am too careless and gay, and that I must be like the ladies of Spain. And although I am allowed to retain my own people about me, they must all conduct themselves in a grave and ceremonious manner."

"Thank fortune that I am a fool," said Le Glorieux, "for who ever heard of a jester who was grave and ceremonious? But I shall be sad and mournful, my Princess, if you freeze up as you did just now, and continue to stay frozen."

"I must try to please my husband's people," replied Marguerite seriously. "If I am one day to be Queen of Spain I must learn to be like a Spanish woman. And I hope that my own people will not offend by showing too much levity and frivolity."

"One of your suite has become a thorough Spaniard," said Le Glorieux, "and that is Brutus. He follows the prince everywhere."

"Yes," replied Marguerite, "the prince loves him and Brutus is fond of his new master. In this he shows good judgment, for the prince is very, very good."

The princess sighed as she spoke and gazed dreamily out of the window.

"I wonder if she, too, is homesick," thought the jester. "Well, as for me, I have seen the bull-fights, the flowers, and oranges of Spain, and I wish I could take my little princess and go home to Max."

From the window they could see Prince Juan walking in the garden, and by his side stepped Brutus, the master occasionally pausing to pat the dog's head or to stroke his silky ears. "He is a good man," remarked the jester, "or Brutus would not be so fond of him."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Prince took a seat on a marble bench]

Now the prince took a seat on a marble bench beside the fountain and turned his pale face, with its thoughtful brow, toward the sinking sun, still absently drawing the hound's ears through his thin white fingers.

"I said something to him this morning that used to make the emperor laugh, but the prince only smiled in that far-off way, as if his mind were traveling through the moon," said Le Glorieux. "He is younger than Philibert, and Philibert is always ready to laugh. And how cheerful and gay Max always was, though sometimes----"

"Do not, oh, do not!" cried the princess. "Let us not talk of my father, or any of the people at home! I am going to weep; I shall be as tearful as poor Cunegunda," she went on, half-laughing, as she brushed the tears from her eyes. "What would her Majesty, Queen Isabella, say were she to see me weeping with my jester--she who always is so careful never to betray her emotions, and who, even when she is ill, never utters a moan?

The prince will come soon and we are to give an audience to some persons of distinction, and it will not do for me to be seen with swollen eyes."

"There, there," said the jester, taking her handkerchief and wiping her eyes as if she had been a little child. "Your lashes are long and thick, you see, and the tears hang to them and make them seem like more tears than they really are. They will spoil your pretty eyes. And you are not really sad, you know, for why should you be, when you will one day be queen of one of the great nations of the earth?"

"Somehow I do not care about that part of it, Le Glorieux, and I hope King Ferdinand and dear Queen Isabella will live to be very, very old.

But I can be dignified when I like, can I not, Le Glorieux?"

"Most certainly you can, my little lady. That night when you were brought a prisoner before Anne of Brittany you were as dignified as a woman of forty."

"And as I grow older it will be easier for me to be silent and cold. I am only sixteen now."

"Of course it will be. The older people grow, the more silent and cold they are. That is to say, as a rule. Clotilde, now, is old and cold, but she is not always silent. There you are smiling, and your tears are all gone; do not get into the habit of weeping. As I understand it, you are expected neither to smile nor weep, but get into a humor half-way between the two and you will be just right."

"Le Glorieux," said the princess, "if you are not happy in Spain, there is no reason why you should stay here. I will send you home to my father, who will be glad to have you with him. You have plenty of friends there and you will be contented."

"And you would be willing to have me go, you could spare me, little Cousin?" asked the fool sadly.

"I am not thinking of myself. I should miss you sorely. But I want you to live where you will be happiest."

"Then that will be where you are, little Princess. No matter if Ferdinand commands me to be as sour and grave as one of the dried-up professors in the university, here do I remain."

Prince Juan entered. He bent gracefully and pressed Marguerite's fingers to his lips, then he offered his arm, and thus they left the room.

The jester wandered to the garden, where he remained for a long time on the seat vacated by the prince. He plucked a branch of pomegranate blossoms and fastened it to the front of his yellow coat. "Bright colors help to make one cheerful," murmured he, and rising, he went down to the river, and leaning over the old stone bridge, he looked into the dingy waters. "They tell me that the waters of the Tormes River will make one forget all he knows if he drinks of them," thought the fool. "They have a saying here if any one forgets anything, 'He has been drinking of the waters of the Tormes.'" Twilight had closed in around him when he became conscious of some one standing beside him. It was a tall man in a long black cloak, and wearing a tall pointed black hat. He was very thin and his small eyes were like black beads.

"You were gazing into the waters of the Tormes, Senor," said the stranger, in a melancholy voice.

"If you are telling me that as a piece of news you must not mind if I am not surprised at it," replied the fool.

"Do you know the effect produced upon those who drink of this water, Senor?" asked the stranger, ignoring the flippancy of the jester's reply.

"Judging from the color of the water, I should say the effect would be gritty," replied Le Glorieux.

"They are the waters of oblivion," went on the tall man; "those who drink of them forget all they know."

"That would not be a great effort for some people," said Le Glorieux.

"One cup of this water and the past is completely forgotten," repeated the stranger.

"Some people might be glad to forget their past," remarked the fool.

"But all wisdom is forgotten, too," the tall man urged in reply.