Chicot the Jester

  CHAPTER VII.

  HOW, WITHOUT ANY ONE KNOWING WHY, THE KING WAS CONVERTED BEFORETHE NEXT DAY.

  Three hours passed thus.

  Suddenly, a terrible cry was heard, which came from the king'sroom.

  All the lights in his room were out, and no sound was to be heardexcept this strange call of the king's. For it was he who hadcried.

  Soon was heard the noise of furniture falling, porcelain breaking,steps running about the room, and the barking of dogs-mingledwith new cries. Almost instantly lights burned, swords shonein the galleries, and the heavy steps of the Guards were heard.

  "To arms!" cried all, "the king calls."

  And the captain of the guard, the colonel of the Swiss, and someattendants, rushed into the king's room with flambeaux.

  Near an overturned chair, broken cups, and disordered bed, stoodHenri, looking terrified and grotesque in his night-dress. Hisright hand was extended, trembling like a leaf in the wind, andhis left held his sword, which he had seized mechanically.

  He appeared dumb through terror, and all the spectators, not daringto break the silence, waited with the utmost anxiety.

  Then appeared, half dressed and wrapped in a large cloak, theyoung queen, Louise de Lorraine, blonde and gentle, who led thelife of a saint upon earth, and who had been awakened by herhusband's cries.

  "Sire," cried she, also trembling, "what is the matter? Mon Dieu!I heard your cries, and I came."

  "It--it is nothing," said the king, without moving his eyes,which seemed to be looking up the air for some form invisibleto all but him.

  "But your majesty cried out; is your majesty suffering?" askedthe queen.

  Terror was so visibly painted on the king's countenance, thatit began to gain on the others.

  "Oh, sire!" cried the queen again, "in Heaven's name do not leaveus in this suspense. Will you have a doctor?"

  "A doctor, no," cried Henri, in the same tone, "the body is notill, it is the mind; no doctor--a confessor."

  Everyone looked round; nowhere was there to be seen any tracesof what had so terrified the king. However, a confessor was sentfor; Joseph Foulon, superior of the convent of St. Genevieve,was torn from his bed, to come to the king. With the confessor,the tumult ceased, and silence was reestablished; everyoneconjectured and wondered--the king was confessing.

  The next day the king rose early, and began to read prayers thenhe ordered all his friends to be sent for. They sent to St. Luc,but he was more suffering than ever. His sleep, or rather hislethargy, had been so profound, that he alone had heard nothingof the tumult in the night, although he slept so near. He beggedto be left in bed. At this deplorable recital, Henri crossedhimself, and sent him a doctor.

  Then he ordered that all the scourges from the convent shouldbe brought to him, and, going to his friends, distributed them,ordering them to scourge each other as hard as they could.

  D'Epernon said that as his right arm was in a sling, and he couldnot return the blows he received, he ought to be exempt, but theking replied that that would only make it the more acceptableto God.

  He himself set the example. He took off his doublet, waistcoat,and shirt, and struck himself like a martyr. Chicot tried tolaugh, as usual, but was warned by a terrible look, that thiswas not the right time, and he was forced to take a scourge likethe others.

  All at once the king left the room, telling them to wait for him.Immediately the blows ceased, only Chicot continued to strikeD'O, whom he hated, and D'O returned it as well as he could. Itwas a duel with whips.

  The king went to the queen, gave her a pearl necklace worth 25,000crowns, and kissed her, which he had not done for a year. Thenhe asked her to put off her royal ornaments and put on a sack.

  Louise, always good, consented, but asked why her husband gaveher a necklace, and yet made such a request.

  "For my sins," replied he.

  The queen said no more, for she knew, better than any one, howmany he had to repent of.

  Henri returned, which was a signal for the flagellation torecommence. In ten minutes the queen arrived, with her sack onher shoulders. Then tapers were distributed to all the court, andbarefooted, through the snow, all the courtiers and fine ladieswent to Montmartre, shivering. At five o'clock the promenade wasover, the convents had received rich presents, the feet of allthe court were swollen, and the backs of the courtiers sore. Therehad been tears, cries, prayers, incense, and psalms. Everyonehad suffered, without knowing why the king, who danced the nightbefore, scourged himself to-day. As for Chicot, he had escaped atthe Porte Montmartre, and, with Brother Gorenflot, had entered apublic-house, where he had eaten and drank. Then he had rejoinedthe procession and returned to the Louvre.

  In the evening the king, fatigued with his fast and his exercise,ordered himself a light supper, had his shoulders washed, andthen went to visit St. Luc.

  "Ah!" cried he, "God has done well to render life so bitter."

  "Why so, sire?"

  "Because then man, instead of fearing death, longs for it."

  "Speak for yourself, sire, I do not long for it at all."

  "Listen, St. Luc, will you follow my example?"

  "If I think it a good one."

  "I will leave my throne, and you your wife, and we will entera cloister. I will call myself Brother Henri----"

  "Pardon, sire, if you do not care for your crown, of which youare tired, I care very much for my wife, whom I know so little.Therefore I refuse."

  "Oh! you are better."

  "Infinitely better, sire; I feel quite joyous, and disposed forhappiness and pleasure."

  "Poor St. Luc!" cried the king, clasping his hands.

  "You should have asked me yesterday, sire, then I was ill andcross. I would have thrown myself into a well for a trifle. Butthis evening it is quite a different thing. I have passed a goodnight and a charming day. Mordieu, vive la joie!"

  "You swear, St. Luc."

  "Did I, sire? but I think you swear sometimes."

  "I have sworn, St. Luc, but I shall swear no more."

  "I cannot say that; I will not swear more than I can help, andGod is merciful."

  "You think he will pardon me?"

  "Oh! I speak for myself, not for you, sire. You have sinned as aking, I as a private man, and we shall, I trust, be differentlyjudged."

  The king sighed. "St. Luc," said he, "will you pass the nightin my room?"

  "Why, what should we do?"

  "We will light all the lamps, I will go to bed, and you shallread prayers to me."

  "No, thank you, sire."

  "You will not?"

  "On no account."

  "You abandon me, St. Luc!"

  "No, I will stay with your majesty, if you will send for musicand ladies, and have a dance."

  "Oh, St. Luc, St. Luc!"

  "I am wild to-night, sire, I want to dance and drink."

  "St. Luc," said the king, solemnly, "do you ever dream?"

  "Often, sire."

  "You believe in dreams?"

  "With reason."

  "How so?"

  "Dreams console for the reality. Last night I had a charming dream."

  "What was it?"

  "I dreamed that my wife----"

  "You still think of your wife?"

  "More than ever, sire; well, I dreamed that she, with her charmingface--for she is pretty, sire----"

  "So was Eve, who ruined us all."

  "Well, my wife had procured wings and the form of a bird, andso, braving locks and bolts, she passed over the walls of theLouvre, and came to my window, crying, 'Open, St. Luc, open,my husband.'"

  "And you opened?"

  "I should think so."

  "Worldly."

  "As you please, sire."

  "Then you woke?"

  "No, indeed, the dream was too charming; and I hope to-night todream again; therefore I refuse your majesty's obliging offer.If I sit up, let me at least have something to pay me for losingmy dream. If your majesty will do as I said----"

>   "Enough, St. Luc. I trust Heaven will send you a dream to-nightwhich will lead you to repentance."

  "I doubt it, sire, and I advise you to send away this libertineSt. Luc, who is resolved not to amend."

  "No, no, I hope, before to-morrow, grace will have touched youas it has me. Good night, I will pray for you."