CHAPTER XXX.
TRIUMFEMINATE.
On the king's arrival in Paris, he sat at the council which had beensummoned, and worked for a certain portion of the day. The queenremained with the queen-mother, and burst into tears as soon as she hadtaken leave of the king. "Ah! madame!" she said, "the king no longerloves me! What will become of me?"
"A husband always loves his wife when she is like you," replied Anne ofAustria.
"A time may come when he will love another woman instead of me."
"What do you call loving?"
"Always thinking of a person--always seeking her society."
"Do you happen to have remarked," said Anne of Austria, "that the kinghas ever done anything of the sort?"
"No, madame," said the young queen, hesitatingly.
"What is there to complain of, then, Marie?"
"You will admit that the king leaves me?"
"The king, my daughter, belongs to his people."
"And that is the very reason why he no longer belongs to me; and that isthe reason, too, why I shall find myself, as so many queens have beenbefore me, forsaken and forgotten, while glory and honors will bereserved for others. Oh, my mother! the king is so handsome! how oftenwill others tell him that they love him, and how much, indeed, they mustdo so!"
"It is very seldom that women love the man in loving the king. Butshould that happen, which I doubt, you should rather wish, Marie, thatsuch women should really love your husband. In the first place, thedevoted love of a mistress is a rapid element of the dissolution of alover's affection; and then, by dint of loving, the mistress loses allinfluence over her lover, whose power or wealth she does not covet,caring only for his affection. Wish, therefore, that the king shouldlove but lightly, and that his mistress should love with all her heart."
"Oh, my mother, what power may not a deep affection exercise over him!"
"And yet you say you are abandoned?"
"Quite true, quite true; I speak absurdly. There is a feeling ofanguish, however, which I can never control."
"And that is?"
"The king may make a happy choice--may find a home, with all the tenderinfluences of home, not far from that we can offer him--a home withchildren around him, the children of another woman than myself. Oh,madame! I should die if I were but to see the king's children."
"Marie, Marie," replied the queen-mother with a smile, and she took theyoung queen's hand in her own, "remember what I am going to say, and letit always be a consolation to you: the king cannot have a Dauphinwithout you."
"With this remark the queen-mother quitted her daughter-in-law, in orderto meet Madame, whose arrival in the grand cabinet had just beenannounced by one of the pages. Madame had scarcely taken time to changeher dress. Her face revealed her agitation, which betrayed a plan theexecution of which occupied, while the result disturbed, her mind.
"I came to ascertain," she said, "if your majesties are suffering anyfatigue from our journey."
"None at all," said the queen-mother.
"But a slight one," replied Maria-Theresa.
"I have suffered from annoyance more than from anything else," saidMadame.
"What annoyance?" inquired Anne of Austria.
"The fatigue the king undergoes in riding about on horseback."
"That does the king good."
"And it was I who advised him to do it," said Maria-Theresa, turningpale.
Madame said not a word in reply; but one of those smiles which werepeculiarly her own flitted for a moment across her lips, without passingover the rest of her face; then, immediately changing the conversation,she continued, "We shall find Paris precisely like the Paris we left it;the same intrigues, plots, and flirtations going on."
"Intrigues! What intrigues do you allude to?" inquired the queen-mother.
"People are talking a good deal about M. Fouquet and MadamePlessis-Belliere."
"Who makes up the number to about ten thousand," replied thequeen-mother. "But what are the plots you speak of?"
"We have, it seems, certain misunderstandings with Holland to settle."
"What about?"
"Monsieur has been telling me the story of the medals."
"Oh!" exclaimed the young-queen, "you mean those medals which werestruck in Holland, on which a cloud is seen passing across the sun,which is the king's device. You are wrong in calling that a plot--it isan insult."
"But so contemptible that the king can well despise it," replied thequeen-mother. "Well, what are the flirtations which are alluded to? Doyou mean that of Madame d'Olonne?"
"No, no; nearer ourselves than that."
"_Casa de usted_," murmured the queen-mother, and without moving herlips, in her daughter-in-law's ear, and also without being overheard byMadame, who thus continued: "You know the terrible news?"
"Oh, yes; M. de Guiche's wound."
"And you attribute it, I suppose, as every one else does, to an accidentwhich happened to him while hunting?"
"Yes, of course," said both the queens together, their interestawakened.
Madame drew closer to them, as she said, in a low tone of voice, "It wasa duel."
"Ah!" said Anne of Austria, in a severe tone: for in her ears the word"duel," which had been forbidden in France during the time she hadreigned over it, had a strange sound.
"A most deplorable duel, which has nearly cost Monsieur two of his bestfriends, and the king two of his best servants."
"What was the cause of the duel?" inquired the young queen, animated bya secret instinct.
"Flirtations," repeated Madame, triumphantly. "The gentlemen in questionwere conversing about the virtue of a particular lady belonging to thecourt. One of them thought that Pallas was a very second-rate personcompared to her; the other pretended that the lady in question was animitation of Venus alluring Mars; and thereupon the two gentlemen foughtas fiercely as Hector and Achilles."
"Venus alluring Mars?" said the young queen in a low tone of voice,without venturing to examine into the allegory very deeply.
"Who is the lady?" inquired Anne of Austria, abruptly. "You said, Ibelieve, she was one of the ladies of honor?"
"Did I say so?" replied Madame.
"Yes; at least, I thought I heard you mention it."
"Are you not aware that such a woman is of ill-omen to a royal house?"
"Is it not Mademoiselle de la Valliere?" said the queen-mother.
"Yes, indeed, that plain-looking creature."
"I thought she was affianced to a gentleman who certainly is not--atleast, I suppose so--either M. de Guiche or M. de Wardes?"
"Very possibly, madame."
The young queen took up a piece of tapestry, and began to unpick with anaffectation of tranquillity which her trembling fingers contradicted.
"What were you saying about Venus and Mars?" pursued the queen-mother."Is there a Mars also?"
"She boasts of that being the case."
"Did you say she boasts of it?"
"That was the cause of the duel."
"And M. de Guiche upheld the cause of Mars?"
"Yes, certainly, like the devoted servant he is."
"The devoted servant of whom?" exclaimed the young queen, forgetting herreserve in allowing her jealous feeling to escape her.
"Mars, not being able to be defended except at the expense of thisVenus," replied Madame, "M. de Guiche maintained the perfect innocenceof Mars, and no doubt affirmed that it was a mere boast of Venus."
"And M. de Wardes," said Anne of Austria, quietly, "spread the reportthat Venus was right, I suppose?"
"Oh, De Wardes," thought Madam, "you shall pay most dearly for the woundyou have given that noblest--the best of men!" And she began to attackDe Wardes with the greatest bitterness: thus discharging her own and DeGuiche's debt, with the assurance that she was working the future ruinof her enemy. She said so much, in fact, that, had Manicamp been there,he would have regretted that he had shown such strong regard for hisfriend, inasmuch as it resulted in the
ruin of his unfortunate foe.
"I see nothing in the whole affair but one cause of mischief, and thatis La Valliere herself," said the queen-mother.
The young queen resumed her work with a perfect indifference of manner,while Madame listened eagerly.
"I do not yet quite understand what you said just now about the dangerof coquetry," resumed Anne of Austria.
"It is quite true," Madame hastened to say, "that, if the girl had notbeen a coquette, Mars would not have thought at all about her."
The repetition of this word "Mars" brought a passing color on thequeen's face; but she still continued her work.
"I will not permit that, in my court, gentlemen should be set againsteach other in this manner," said Anne of Austria, calmly. "Such mannerswere useful enough, perhaps, in a time when the divided nobility had noother rallying-point than mere gallantry. At that time women, whose swaywas absolute and undivided, were privileged to encourage men's valor byfrequent trials of their courage; but now, thank Heaven, there is butone master in France, and to him every thought of the mind, and everypulse of the body, are due. I will not allow my son to be deprived ofany one of his servants." And she turned toward the young queen, saying,"What is to be done with this La Valliere?"
"La Valliere?" said the queen, apparently surprised, "I do not even knowthe name;" and she accompanied this remark by one of those cold, fixedsmiles which are only observed on royal lips.
Madame was herself a princess great in every respect--great inintelligence, great by birth and pride; the queen's reply, however,completely astonished her, and she was obliged to pause for a moment inorder to recover herself. "She is one of my maids of honor," shereplied, with a bow.
"In that case," retorted Maria-Theresa, in the same tone, "it is youraffair, my sister, and not ours."
"I beg your pardon," resumed Anne of Austria, "it is my affair, and Iperfectly well understand," she pursued, addressing a look full ofintelligence at Madame, "Madame's motive for saying what she has justsaid."
"Everything which emanates from you, Madame," said the English princess,"proceeds from the lips of Wisdom."
"If we send this girl back again to her own family," said Maria-Theresa,gently, "we must bestow a pension upon her."
"Which I will provide for out of my income," exclaimed Madame.
"No, no," interrupted Anne of Austria, "no disturbance, I beg. The kingdislikes that the slightest disrespectful remark should be made of anylady. Let everything be done quite quietly. Will you have the kindness,madame, to send for this girl here; and you, my daughter, will have thegoodness to retire to your own room."
The old queen's entreaties were commands, and as Maria-Theresa rose toreturn to her own apartments, Madame rose in order to send a page tosummon La Valliere.