38. Henrietta Maria and Mazarin.
The cardinal rose, and advanced in haste to receive the queen ofEngland. He showed the more respect to this queen, deprived of everymark of pomp and stripped of followers, as he felt some self-reproachfor his own want of heart and his avarice. But supplicants for favorknow how to accommodate the expression of their features, and thedaughter of Henry IV. smiled as she advanced to meet a man she hated anddespised.
"Ah!" said Mazarin to himself, "what a sweet face; does she come toborrow money of me?"
And he threw an uneasy glance at his strong box; he even turned insidethe bevel of the magnificent diamond ring, the brilliancy of which drewevery eye upon his hand, which indeed was white and handsome.
"Your eminence," said the august visitor, "it was my first intention tospeak of the matters that have brought me here to the queen, my sister,but I have reflected that political affairs are more especially theconcern of men."
"Madame," said Mazarin, "your majesty overwhelms me with flatteringdistinction."
"He is very gracious," thought the queen; "can he have guessed myerrand?"
"Give," continued the cardinal, "your commands to the most respectful ofyour servants."
"Alas, sir," replied the queen, "I have lost the habit of commanding andhave adopted instead that of making petitions. I am here to petitionyou, too happy should my prayer be favorably heard."
"I am listening, madame, with the greatest interest," said Mazarin.
"Your eminence, it concerns the war which the king, my husband, is nowsustaining against his rebellious subjects. You are perhaps ignorantthat they are fighting in England," added she, with a melancholy smile,"and that in a short time they will fight in a much more decided fashionthan they have done hitherto."
"I am completely ignorant of it, madame," said the cardinal,accompanying his words with a slight shrug of the shoulders; "alas, ourown wars quite absorb the time and the mind of a poor, incapable, infirmold minister like me."
"Well, then, your eminence," said the queen, "I must inform you thatCharles I., my husband, is on the eve of a decisive engagement. In caseof a check" (Mazarin made a slight movement), "one must foreseeeverything; in the case of a check, he desires to retire into France andto live here as a private individual. What do you say to this project?"
The cardinal had listened without permitting a single fibre of his faceto betray what he felt, and his smile remained as it ever was--false andflattering; and when the queen finished speaking, he said:
"Do you think, madame, that France, agitated and disturbed as it is,would be a safe retreat for a dethroned king? How will the crown, whichis scarce firmly set on the head of Louis XIV., support a doubleweight?"
"The weight was not so heavy when I was in peril," interrupted thequeen, with a sad smile, "and I ask no more for my husband than has beendone for me; you see that we are very humble monarchs, sir."
"Oh, you, madame," the cardinal hastened to say, in order to cut shortthe explanation he foresaw was coming, "with regard to you, that isanother thing. A daughter of Henry IV., of that great, that sublimesovereign----"
"All which does not prevent you refusing hospitality to his son-in-law,sir! Nevertheless, you ought to remember that that great, that sublimemonarch, when proscribed at one time, as my husband may be, demanded aidfrom England and England accorded it to him; and it is but just to saythat Queen Elizabeth was not his niece."
"Peccato!" said Mazarin, writhing beneath this simple eloquence, "yourmajesty does not understand me; you judge my intentions wrongly, andthat is partly because, doubtless, I explain myself in French."
"Speak Italian, sir. Ere the cardinal, your predecessor, sent ourmother, Marie de Medicis, to die in exile, she taught us that language.If anything yet remains of that great, that sublime king, Henry, of whomyou have just spoken, he would be much surprised at so little pity forhis family being united to such a profound admiration of himself."
The perspiration stood in large drops on Mazarin's brow.
"That admiration is, on the contrary, so great, so real, madame,"returned Mazarin, without noticing the change of language offered to himby the queen, "that if the king, Charles I.--whom Heaven protect fromevil!--came into France, I would offer him my house--my own house; but,alas! it would be but an unsafe retreat. Some day the people will burnthat house, as they burned that of the Marechal d'Ancre. Poor ConcinoConcini! And yet he but desired the good of the people."
"Yes, my lord, like yourself!" said the queen, ironically.
Mazarin pretended not to understand the double meaning of his ownsentence, but continued to compassionate the fate of Concino Concini.
"Well then, your eminence," said the queen, becoming impatient, "what isyour answer?"
"Madame," cried Mazarin, more and more moved, "will your majesty permitme to give you counsel?"
"Speak, sir," replied the queen; "the counsels of so prudent a man asyourself ought certainly to be available."
"Madame, believe me, the king ought to defend himself to the last."
"He has done so, sir, and this last battle, which he encounters withresources much inferior to those of the enemy, proves that he will notyield without a struggle; but in case he is beaten?"
"Well, madame, in that case, my advice--I know that I am very bold tooffer advice to your majesty--my advice is that the king should notleave his kingdom. Absent kings are very soon forgotten; if he passesover into France his cause is lost."
"But," persisted the queen, "if such be your advice and you have hisinterest at heart, send him help of men and money, for I can do nothingfor him; I have sold even to my last diamond to aid him. If I had had asingle ornament left, I should have bought wood this winter to make afire for my daughter and myself."
"Oh, madame," said Mazarin, "your majesty knows not what you ask. On theday when foreign succor follows in the train of a king to replace him onhis throne, it is an avowal that he no longer possesses the help andlove of his own subjects."
"To the point, sir," said the queen, "to the point, and answer me, yesor no; if the king persists in remaining in England will you send himsuccor? If he comes to France will you accord him hospitality? What doyou intend to do? Speak."
"Madame," said the cardinal, affecting an effusive frankness of speech,"I shall convince your majesty, I trust, of my devotion to you and mydesire to terminate an affair which you have so much at heart. Afterwhich your majesty will, I think, no longer doubt my zeal in yourbehalf."
The queen bit her lips and moved impatiently on her chair.
"Well, what do you propose to do?" she, said at length; "come, speak."
"I will go this instant and consult the queen, and we will refer theaffair at once to parliament."
"With which you are at war--is it not so? You will charge Broussel toreport it. Enough, sir, enough. I understand you or rather, I am wrong.Go to the parliament, for it was from this parliament, the enemy ofmonarchs, that the daughter of the great, the sublime Henry IV., whomyou so much admire, received the only relief this winter which preventedher from dying of hunger and cold!"
And with these words Henrietta rose in majestic indignation, whilst thecardinal, raising his hands clasped toward her, exclaimed, "Ah, madame,madame, how little you know me, mon Dieu!"
But Queen Henrietta, without even turning toward him who made thesehypocritical pretensions, crossed the cabinet, opened the door forherself and passing through the midst of the cardinal's numerous guards,courtiers eager to pay homage, the luxurious show of a competingroyalty, she went and took the hand of De Winter, who stood apart inisolation. Poor queen, already fallen! Though all bowed before her, asetiquette required, she had now but a single arm on which she couldlean.
"It signifies little," said Mazarin, when he was alone. "It gave me painand it was an ungracious part to play, but I have said nothing either tothe one or to the other. Bernouin!"
Bernouin entered.
"See if the young man with the black doublet and the short ha
ir, who waswith me just now, is still in the palace."
Bernouin went out and soon returned with Comminges, who was on guard.
"Your eminence," said Comminges, "as I was re-conducting the young manfor whom you have asked, he approached the glass door of the gallery,and gazed intently upon some object, doubtless the picture by Raphael,which is opposite the door. He reflected for a second and then descendedthe stairs. I believe I saw him mount a gray horse and leave the palacecourt. But is not your eminence going to the queen?"
"For what purpose?"
"Monsieur de Guitant, my uncle, has just told me that her majesty hadreceived news of the army."
"It is well; I will go."
Comminges had seen rightly, and Mordaunt had really acted as he hadrelated. In crossing the gallery parallel to the large glass gallery, heperceived De Winter, who was waiting until the queen had finished hernegotiation.
At this sight the young man stopped short, not in admiration ofRaphael's picture, but as if fascinated at the sight of some terribleobject. His eyes dilated and a shudder ran through his body. One wouldhave said that he longed to break through the wall of glass whichseparated him from his enemy; for if Comminges had seen with what anexpression of hatred the eyes of this young man were fixed upon DeWinter, he would not have doubted for an instant that the Englishman washis eternal foe.
But he stopped, doubtless to reflect; for instead of allowing his firstimpulse, which had been to go straight to Lord de Winter, to carry himaway, he leisurely descended the staircase, left the palace with hishead down, mounted his horse, which he reined in at the corner of theRue Richelieu, and with his eyes fixed on the gate, waited until thequeen's carriage had left the court.
He had not long to wait, for the queen scarcely remained a quarter of anhour with Mazarin, but this quarter of an hour of expectation appeared acentury to him. At last the heavy machine, which was called a chariot inthose days, came out, rumbling against the gates, and De Winter, stillon horseback, bent again to the door to converse with her majesty.
The horses started on a trot and took the road to the Louvre, which theyentered. Before leaving the convent of the Carmelites, Henrietta haddesired her daughter to attend her at the palace, which she hadinhabited for a long time and which she had only left because theirpoverty seemed to them more difficult to bear in gilded chambers.
Mordaunt followed the carriage, and when he had watched it drive beneaththe sombre arches he went and stationed himself under a wall over whichthe shadow was extended, and remained motionless, amidst the moldings ofJean Goujon, like a bas-relievo, representing an equestrian statue.