CHAPTER XL.
THE ATRIDES.
Since his return to Paris, Henry of Anjou had not seen his motherCatharine alone, and, as every one knows, he was her favorite son.
This visit was not merely for the sake of etiquette, nor the carryingout of a painful ceremony, but the accomplishment of a very sweet dutyfor this son who, if he did not love his mother, was at least sure ofbeing tenderly loved by her.
Catharine loved this son best either because of his bravery, hisbeauty,--for besides the mother, there was the woman in Catharine,--orbecause, according to some scandalous chronicles, Henry of Anjoureminded the Florentine of a certain happy epoch of secret love.
Catharine alone knew of the return of the Duc d'Anjou to Paris. CharlesIX. would have been ignorant of it had not chance led him to the Hotelde Conde just as his brother was leaving it. Charles had not expectedhim until the following day, and Henry of Anjou had hoped to concealfrom him the two motives which had hastened his arrival by a day,namely, his visit to the beautiful Marie of Cleves, princess of Conde,and his conference with the Polish ambassadors.
It was this last reason, of the object of which Charles was uncertain,which the Duc d'Anjou had to explain to his mother. And the reader,ignorant on this point as was Henry of Navarre, will profit by theexplanation.
When the Duc d'Anjou, so long expected, entered his mother's rooms,Catharine, usually so cold and formal, and who since the departure ofher favorite son had embraced with effusion no one but Coligny, who wasto be assassinated the following day, opened her arms to the child ofher love, and pressed him to her heart with a burst of maternalaffection most surprising in a heart already long grown cold.
Then pushing him from her she gazed at him and again drew him into herarms.
"Ah, madame," said he, "since Heaven grants me the privilege ofembracing my mother in private, console me, for I am the most wretchedman alive."
"Oh, my God! my beloved child," cried Catharine, "what has happened toyou?"
"Nothing which you do not know, mother. I am in love. I am loved; but itis this very love which is the cause of my unhappiness."
"Tell me about it, my son," said Catharine.
"Well, mother,--these ambassadors,--this departure"--
"Yes," said Catharine, "the ambassadors have arrived; the departure isnear at hand."
"It need not be near at hand, mother, but my brother hastens it. Hedetests me. I am in his way, and he wants to rid himself of me."
Catharine smiled.
"By giving you a throne, poor, unhappy crowned head!"
"Oh, no, mother," said Henry in agony, "I do not wish to go away. I, ason of France, brought up in the refinement of polite society, near thebest of mothers, loved by one of the dearest women in the world, must Igo among snows, to the ends of the earth, to die by inches among thoserough people who are intoxicated from morning until night, and who gaugethe capacity of their king by that of a cask, according to what he canhold? No, mother, I do not want to go; I should die!"
"Come, Henry," said Catharine, pressing her son's hands, "come, is thatthe real reason?"
Henry's eyes fell, as though even to his mother he did not dare toconfess what was in his heart.
"Is there no other reason?" asked Catharine; "less romantic, but morerational, more political?"
"Mother, it is not my fault if this thought comes to me, and takesstronger hold of me, perhaps, than it should; but did not you yourselftell me that the horoscope of my brother Charles prophesied that hewould die young?"
"Yes," said Catharine, "but a horoscope may lie, my son. Indeed, Imyself hope that all horoscopes are not true."
"But his horoscope said this, did it not?"
"His horoscope spoke of a quarter of a century; but it did not saywhether it referred to his life or his reign."
"Well, mother, bring it about so that I can stay. My brother is almosttwenty-four. In one year the question will be settled."
Catharine pondered deeply.
"Yes," said she; "it would certainly be better if it could be soarranged."
"Oh, imagine my despair, mother," cried Henry, "if I were to exchangethe crown of France for that of Poland! My being tormented there withthe idea that I might be reigning in the Louvre in the midst of thiselegant and lettered court, near the best mother in the world, whoseadvice would spare me half my work and fatigue, who, accustomed tobearing, with my father, a portion of the burden of the State, wouldlike to bear it with me too! Ah, mother, I should have been a greatking!"
"There! there! dear child," said Catharine, to whom this outlook hadalways been a very sweet hope, "there! do not despair. Have you thoughtof any way of arranging the matter?"
"Oh, yes, certainly, and that is why I came back two or three daysbefore I was expected, letting my brother Charles suppose that it was onaccount of Madame de Conde. Then I have been with De Lasco, the chiefambassador. I became acquainted with him, and did all I could in thatfirst interview to make him hate me. I hope I have succeeded."
"Ah, my dear child," said Catharine, "that is wrong. You must place theinterest of France above your petty dislikes."
"Mother, in case any accident happened to my brother, would it be to theinterest of France for the Duc d'Alencon or the King of Navarre toreign?"
"Oh! the King of Navarre, never, never!" murmured Catharine, lettinganxiety cover her face with that veil of care which spread over it everytime this question arose.
"Faith," continued Henry, "my brother D'Alencon is not worth much more,and is no fonder of you."
"Well," said Catharine, "what did Lasco say?"
"Even Lasco hesitated when I urged him to seek an audience. Oh, if hecould write to Poland and annul this election!"
"Folly, my son, madness! What a Diet has consecrated is sacred."
"But, mother, could not these Poles be prevailed on to accept my brotherin my stead?"
"It would be difficult, if not impossible," said Catharine.
"Never mind, try, make the attempt, speak to the King, mother. Ascribeeverything to my love for Madame de Conde; say that I am mad over her,that I am losing my mind. He saw me coming out of the prince's hotelwith De Guise, who did everything for me a friend could do."
"Yes, in order to help the League. You do not see this, but I do."
"Yes, mother, yes; but meanwhile I am making use of him. Should we notbe glad when a man serves us while serving himself?"
"And what did the King say when he met you?"
"He apparently believed what I told him, that love alone had brought meback to Paris."
"But did he ask you what you did the rest of the night?"
"Yes, mother; but I had supper at Nantouillet's, where I made afrightful riot, so that the report of it might get abroad and deceivethe King as to where I was."
"Then he is ignorant of your visit to Lasco?"
"Absolutely."
"Good, so much the better. I will try to influence him in your favor,dear child. But you know no influence makes any impression on his coarsenature."
"Oh, mother, mother, what happiness if I could stay! I would love youeven more than I do now if that were possible!"
"If you stay you will be sent to war."
"Oh, never mind! if only I do not have to leave France."
"You will be killed."
"Mother, one does not die from blows; one dies from grief, frommeanness. But Charles will not let me remain; he hates me."
"He is jealous of you, my beautiful conqueror, that is well known. Whyare you so brave and so fortunate? Why, at scarcely twenty years of age,have you won battles like Alexander or Caesar? But, in the meantime, donot let your wishes be known to any one; pretend to be resigned, payyour court to the King. To-day there is a private council to read anddiscuss the speeches which are to be made at the ceremony. Act like theKing of Poland, and leave the rest to me. By the way, how about yourexpedition of last night?"
"It failed, mother. The gallant was warned and escaped by the window."
/> "Well," said Catharine, "some day I shall know who this evil genius iswho upsets all my plans in this way. Meanwhile I suspect and--let himbeware!"
"So, mother"--said the Duc d'Anjou.
"Let me manage this affair."
She kissed Henry tenderly on his eyes and pushed him from the room.
Before long the princes of her household arrived at the rooms of thequeen. Charles was in a good humor, for the cleverness of his sisterMargot had pleased rather than vexed him. Moreover, he had nothingagainst La Mole, and he had waited for him somewhat eagerly in thecorridor merely because it was a kind of hunt.
D'Alencon, on the contrary, was greatly preoccupied. The repulsion hehad always felt for La Mole had turned into hate the instant he knewthat La Mole was loved by his sister.
Marguerite possessed both a dreamy mind and a quick eye. She had toremember as well as to watch.
The Polish deputies had sent a copy of the speeches which they were tomake.
Marguerite, to whom no more mention had been made of the affair of theprevious evening than as if it had never occurred, read the speeches,and, except Charles, every one discussed what he would answer. Charleslet Marguerite reply as she pleased. As far as D'Alencon was concernedhe was very particular as to the choice of terms; but as to thediscourse of Henry of Anjou he seemed determined to attack it, and madenumerous corrections.
This council, without being in any way decisive, had greatly embitteredthe feelings of those present.
Henry of Anjou, who had to rewrite nearly all his discourse, withdrew tobegin the task.
Marguerite, who had not heard of the King of Navarre since the injury hehad given to her window-pane, returned to her rooms, hoping to find himthere.
D'Alencon, who had read hesitation in the eyes of his brother of Anjou,and who had surprised a meaning glance between him and his mother,retired to ponder on what he regarded as a fresh plot. Charles was aboutto go to his workshop to finish a boar-spear he was making for himselfwhen Catharine stopped him.
The King, who suspected that he was to meet some opposition to his will,paused and looked at his mother closely.
"Well," he said, "what now?"
"A final word, sire, which we forgot, and yet it is of much importance:what day shall we decide on for the public reception?"
"Ah, that is true," said the King, seating himself again. "Well, whatday would suit you?"
"I thought," replied Catharine, "from your Majesty's silence andapparent forgetfulness, that there was some deep-laid plan."
"No," said Charles; "why so, mother?"
"Because," added Catharine, very gently, "it seems to me, my son, thatthese Poles should not see us so eager after their crown."
"On the contrary, mother," said Charles, "it is they who are in haste.They have come from Varsovia by forced marches. Honor for honor,courtesy for courtesy."
"Your Majesty may be right in one sense; I am not curious. So your ideais that the public reception should be held soon?"
"Faith, yes, mother; is this not your idea too?"
"You know that my ideas are only such as can further your glory. I willtell you, therefore, that by this haste I fear you will be accused ofprofiting very quickly by this opportunity to relieve the house ofFrance of the burdens your brother imposes on it, but which he certainlyreturns in glory and devotion."
"Mother," said Charles, "on his departure from France I will endow mybrother so richly that no one will ever dare to think what you fear maybe said."
"Well," said Catharine, "I surrender, since you have such a ready replyto each of my objections. But to receive this warlike people, who judgeof the power of the states by exterior signs, you must have aconsiderable array of troops, and I do not think there are enough yetassembled in the Isle de France."
"Pardon me, mother. I have foreseen this event, and am prepared for it.I have recalled two battalions from Normandy and one from Guyenne; mycompany of archers arrived yesterday from Brittany; the light horse,scattered throughout Lorraine, will be in Paris in the course of theday; and while it is supposed that I have scarcely four regiments at mydisposition, I have twenty thousand men ready to appear."
"Ah, ah!" said Catharine, surprised. "In that case only one thing islacking, but that can be procured."
"What is that?"
"Money. I believe that you are not furnished with an over-supply."
"On the contrary, madame, on the contrary," said Charles IX., "I havefourteen hundred thousand crowns in the Bastille; my private estateshave yielded me during the last few days eight hundred thousand crowns,which I have put in my cellar in the Louvre, and in case of needNantouillet holds three hundred thousand crowns at my disposal."
Catharine shivered. Until then she had known Charles to be violent andpassionate, but never provident.
"Well," said she, "your Majesty thinks of everything. That is fine; andprovided the tailors, the embroiderers, and the jewellers make haste,your Majesty will be in a position to hold this audience within sixweeks."
"Six weeks!" exclaimed Charles. "Mother, the tailors, the embroiderers,and the jewellers have been at work ever since we heard of my brother'snomination. As a matter of fact, everything could be ready to-day, but,at the latest, it will take only three or four days."
"Oh!" murmured Catharine; "you are in greater haste than I supposed, myson."
"Honor for honor, I told you."
"Well, is it this honor done to the house of France which flatters you?"
"Certainly."
"And is your chief desire to see a son of France on the throne ofPoland?"
"Exactly."
"Then it is the event, the fact, and not the man, which is of interestto you, and whoever reigns there"--
"No, no, mother, by Heaven! Let us keep to the point! The Poles havemade a good choice. They are a skilful and strong people! A militarypeople, a nation of soldiers, they choose a captain for their ruler.That is logical, plague it! D'Anjou is just the man for them. The heroof Jarnac and Montcontour fits them like a glove. Whom would you have mesend them? D'Alencon? a coward! He would give them a fine idea of theValois!--D'Alencon! He would run at the first bullet that whistled byhis ears, while Henry of Anjou is a fighter. Yes! his sword always inhis hand, he is ever pushing forward, on foot or horseback!--forward!thrust! overpower! kill! Ah! my brother of Anjou is a man, a valiantsoldier, who will lead them to battle from morning until night, from oneyear's end to the next. He is not a hard drinker, it is true; but hewill kill in cold blood. That is all. This dear Henry will be in hiselement; there! quick! quick! to battle! Sound the trumpet and the drum!Long live the king! Long live the conqueror! Long live the general! Hewill be proclaimed _imperator_ three times a year. That will be fine forthe house of France, and for the honor of the Valois; he may be killed,but, by Heaven, it will be a glorious death!"
Catharine shuddered. Her eyes flashed fire.
"Say that you wish to send Henry of Anjou away from you," she cried,"say that you do not love your brother!"
"Ah! ah! ah!" cried Charles, bursting into a nervous laugh, "you haveguessed, have you, that I want to send him away? You have guessed that Ido not love him? And when did you reach this conclusion? Come! Love mybrother! Why should I love him? Ah! ah! ah! Do you want to make melaugh?"
As he spoke, his pale cheeks grew flushed with a feverish glow.
"Does he love me? Do you love me? Has any one, except my dogs, and MarieTouchet, and my nurse, ever loved me? No! I do not love my brother, Ilove only myself. Do you hear? And I shall not prevent my brother fromdoing as I do."
"Sire," said Catharine, growing excited on her part, "since you haveopened your heart to me I must open mine to you. You are acting like aweak king, like an ill-advised monarch; you are sending away your secondbrother, the natural support of the throne, who is in every way worthyto succeed you if any accident happened, in which case your crown wouldbe left in jeopardy. As you said, D'Alencon is young, incapable, weak,more than weak, cowardly! And the Bearnais rises
up in the background,you understand?"
"Well, the devil!" exclaimed Charles, "what does it matter to me whathappens when I am dead? The Bearnais rises behind my brother, you say!By Heaven! so much the better! I said that I loved no one--I wasmistaken, I love Henriot. Yes, I love this good Henriot. He has a frankmanner, a warm handshake, while I see nothing but false looks around me,and touch, only icy hands. He is incapable of treason towards me, Iswear. Besides, I owe him amends, poor boy! His mother was poisoned bysome members of my family, I am told. Moreover, I am well. But if I wereto be taken ill, I would call him, I should want him to stay with me, Iwould take nothing except from him, and when I died I would make himKing of France and of Navarre. And by Heaven! instead of laughing at mydeath as my brothers would do, he would weep, or at least he wouldpretend to weep."
Had a thunderbolt fallen at Catharine's feet she would have been lessstartled than at these words. She stood speechless, gazing at Charleswith haggard eyes. Then at the end of a few moments:
"Henry of Navarre!" she cried, "Henry of Navarre King of France to thedetriment of my children! Ah! Holy Virgin! we shall see! So this is whyyou wish to send away my son?"
"Your son--and what am I, then? the son of a wolf, like Romulus?" criedCharles, trembling with anger, his eyes shining as though they were onfire. "Your son, you are right; the King of France is not your son, theKing of France has no brothers, the King of France has no mother, theKing of France has only subjects. The King of France has no need offeelings, he has wishes. He can get on without being loved, but he shallbe obeyed."
"Sire, you have misunderstood my words. I called my son the one who wasgoing to leave me. I love him better just now because just now he is theone I am most afraid I shall lose. Is it a crime for a mother to wishthat her child should not leave her?"
"And I, I tell you that he shall leave you. I tell you that he shallleave France, that he shall go to Poland, and within two days, too, andif you add one word he shall go to-morrow. Moreover, if you do notsmooth your brow, if you do not take that threatening look from youreyes, I will strangle him this evening, as yesterday you yourself wouldhave strangled your daughter's lover. Only I shall not fail, as wefailed in regard to La Mole."
At the first threat Catharine's head fell; but she raised it againalmost immediately.
"Ah, poor child!" said she, "your brother would kill you. But do notfear, your mother will protect you."
"Ah, you defy me!" cried Charles. "Well! by the blood of Christ, heshall die, not this evening, not soon, but this very instant. Ah, aweapon! a dagger! a knife! Ah!"
Having looked around in vain for what he wanted, Charles perceived thelittle dagger his mother always wore at her belt, sprang toward it,snatched it from its shagreen case encrusted with silver, and rushedfrom the room to strike down Henry of Anjou wherever he might meet him.But on reaching the hall, his strength, excited beyond human endurance,suddenly left him. He put out his arm, dropped the sharp weapon, whichstuck point downwards into the wood, uttered a piercing cry, sank down,and rolled over on the floor.
At the same instant a quantity of blood spurted forth from his mouth andnose.
"Jesus!" said he. "They kill me! Help! help!"
Catharine, who had followed, saw him fall. For one instant she stoodmotionless, watching him. Then recollecting herself, not because of anymaternal affection, but because of the awkwardness of the situation, shecalled out:
"The King is ill! Help! help!"
At the cry a crowd of servants, officers, and courtiers gathered aroundthe young King. But ahead of them all a woman rushed out, pushed asidethe others, and raised Charles, who had grown as pale as death.
"They kill me, nurse, they kill me," murmured the King, covered withperspiration and blood.
"They kill you, my Charles?" cried the good woman, glancing at the groupof faces with a look which reached even Catharine. "Who kills you?"
Charles heaved a feeble sigh, and fainted.
"Ah!" said the physician, Ambroise Pare, who was summoned at once, "ah!the King is very ill!"
"Now, from necessity or compulsion," said the implacable Catharine toherself, "he will have to grant a delay."
Whereupon she left the King to join her second son, who was in theoratory, anxiously waiting to hear the result of an interview which wasof such importance to him.