Page 11 of The Court Jester


  CHAPTER XI

  THE LADY MARGUERITE IS VERY BRAVE

  The campaign in Italy at this time proved to be a failure, and theemperor returned with his troops to Austria.

  "I have always thought I should like to ride through the streets with alaurel wreath on my brow and hear the people screeching with delight atthe very sight of me," said Le Glorieux, "but I always happen to be onthe other side when a victory is won."

  Being sent to attend to some matters for his royal master, Philibert wasdetained for a week in the Tyrol, and when he arrived at the palace inVienna the first person he met was one of his cousin's women, who toldhim that her mistress wished to speak to him at once.

  The Lady Clotilde had changed not at all during her stay in Austria, andshe received her young kinsman with a relaxation of her usual dignitythat surprised him. "My dear Philibert," she said, kissing him upon bothcheeks, "I congratulate you upon your improved prospects."

  "My improved prospects? Has the emperor----"

  "Oh, no, the emperor has nothing to do with what I am speaking of. Ofcourse, death is a terrible thing, but people must die, and even if wewish they could be spared, it makes no difference."

  "My dear cousin," said Philibert patiently, "will you not tell me who isdead and why I should be congratulated?"

  "Who should it be, you thoughtless boy, but the Duke of Savoy, and yourfather was the heir to the title. You are the future Duke of Savoy! Youare a personage of importance!" and she kissed him again. "Think of whata fine marriage you may now make!"

  Philibert blushed at her words, but his eyes shone with a new light. "Ihad not heard of our new dignity," he said. "I shall doubtless find aletter when I go to my room."

  "And, my dear boy, I have news of my own to tell you," went on the LadyClotilde, simpering. "I suppose I should have waited until your return,and I should have notified my other relatives, but I always was soromantic. Philibert, I have married again."

  "_What!_" cried the young man, in amazement.

  "I do not see why you are so surprised," she returned coldly. "You couldnot seem more astonished if you had seen a ghost. Why should I not marryif I feel so inclined?"

  "Why not, indeed? I beg your pardon, Cousin. Who is the happy man?"

  "It is the Spanish attache, Don Geronimo Bartolomeo Zurriago yEscafusa," she returned, saying the long name with a good deal of pride."He owns an estate in his own country to which he would have returnedlong ago if--well, if there had not been attractions at the court ofAustria."

  "I hope you will be very happy, Cousin," said Philibert, excusinghimself as soon as it was possible, for he wanted to be alone and thinkof all that his new dignity might bring to him.

  Leaving the Lady Clotilde's apartment, he met Le Glorieux, who wasbubbling over with news. "So many things have happened, even in the weeksince we returned," said the jester, "that it seems to me it will take aweek to repeat them. In the first place, Clotilde is married."

  "So she has just informed me."

  "When I heard it," went on the jester, "I was so surprised that italmost made me ill. But the people who marry, and especially the otherpeople they select to marry, is a mystery I never could solve."

  "The Lady Marguerite is well, I hope?" asked Philibert.

  "Yes, and happy and fair as a flower, and her stepmother is stillhigh-tempered and fond of shellfish. But that is not news. First I willbegin with Antoine. He has distinguished himself greatly in the way ofsinging, and the emperor has made him one of his own musicians. And therascal, who has grown wonderfully during the last few months, is almostas tall as I am, and he is very proud of his new uniform. And next,great doings have been going on in our negotiations with Spain! As Iremarked to you once before, if you will remember, our friend Manuelworks quietly, but he works hard."

  "What do you mean?" asked the secretary, turning pale. "You do not meanthat she is going to Spain?"

  "If you will not use names, of course I can not be expected to knowabout whom you are talking," replied the fool. "But a certain 'she' iscoming from Spain. The Princess Juana is coming with a great fleet to bethe daughter-in-law of Maximilian and the wife of the Archduke Philip."

  "You do not mean to tell me that all this has been planned in a week?"asked Philibert, with a sigh of relief.

  "No, it has been going on for some time, but we have only known about itwithin the last week. You see, even his secretary does not see all theletters Max receives and sends away. But there is still more to tellyou."

  "What, more?" laughed his listener.

  "Yes, and most important of all. Cunegunda has been crying her eyesalmost out."

  "Do you call that news?"

  "No, I do not know that I can call that part of it news. The very firstthing that woman did when she saw me was to burst into tears," went onthe jester in an injured tone. "I appeal to you, I appeal to any man, ifthere is anything mournful in my appearance? If I went about clothed incrape I could not have a sadder effect upon her than I do in my jester'ssuit. She said she was crying because she was afraid something was goingto happen, and the next day when I saw her she cried because it hadhappened. You see she had lost no time, but had begun to weep in goodseason."

  "I wonder if you have heard my news,--that my father has succeeded tothe dukedom of Savoy?" asked the other as the jester paused.

  "Yes, I have heard it, my boy, and I congratulate you with all myheart," said the fool hastily. "It is a fine inheritance, and one dayyou will be Philibert the Second, Duke of Savoy. Accept myfelicitations."

  "Thank you. And you see, Le Glorieux, there is quite a differencebetween the heir of the Count de Bresse and the heir of the duke of awealthy province, and I feel that I can hope--well, I can hope foralmost anything."

  "Hope," said the jester gravely, "is one of the finest things in thisworld, and I wish we all had more of it. But you have not asked me whatmade Cunegunda weep."

  "No," said Philibert absently, as one whose mind is traveling farafield; "what did make Cunegunda weep?"

  "Because," replied the jester, "she has the narrowest mind of any womanliving."

  "And she is only beginning to find it out?" asked the other, laughing.

  "Oh, she has not found it out, and never will, though I have known itfrom the beginning of our acquaintance. Now I ask you, why should notSpain be a good country to live in? There are flowers and palaces andoranges and bull-fights and everything to make a man or womancomfortable, and there are plenty of new friends, I dare say, if onecares to make them; still that woman is drowned in tears because shemust go there, as if it were purgatory."

  "Why must she go to Spain if she does not care to do so?" askedPhilibert.

  "Because she will not leave her young mistress," replied the fooldeliberately.

  "You do not mean----"

  "Yes, I do mean just that. As I have said before, Manuel has workedhard, and the same fleet that brings the Spanish infanta to our shoreswill take away our own little princess to be the bride of the youngPrince of the Asturias, only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, and heir tothe kingdoms of Castile, and Leon, and Aragon, and I can not tell howmany other countries. And I am going with her, and so is the weepingCunegunda, and a large suite of ladies and gentlemen." And thuschattering, and without casting another glance at Philibert de Bresse,heir to the dukedom of Savoy, the jester left the room.

  The Lady Marguerite, who had grown still more fair to look upon duringhis absence, received Philibert with a cordial greeting, and with a wordof congratulation upon his new dignity, as future ruler of Savoy.

  He replied, "You are very kind, your Highness, but in a world full ofsorrow and disappointment, rank and wealth are of little account."

  "You speak as mournfully as one who is about to become a monk," shereturned in a tone of surprise.

  "Such a step on my part is not improbable, your Highness," was thereply.

  Some days later, the princess said to Le Glorieux, "Philibert de Bressehas not been the same since his return from It
aly. What spell was castover him in that country?"

  "Almost any question can be solved," said the jester, with a wise look,"if one will sit down and think it out quietly. I have wondered for along time why the climate of Austria has agreed so well with Clotilde,and I find that it was all owing to Don Geronimo Bartolomeo Zurriago yEscafusa. Is it not wonderful how well I recollect that name? And thebeauty of it is that once learned I shall never forget it."

  "What has all that to do with Philibert de Bresse?" asked the princess.

  "That has nothing to do with him, of course; I am simply leading up tohim. This is what I have figured out for Philibert. Of course he knowsthat he must marry some time; few men can escape matrimony. When he wasplain future Count de Bresse he had a wider selection of ladies withwhom he might wed. Now that he is the future Duke of Savoy, there is asmaller number from whom he may choose; for, though I never could seethe justice of it, there always is more milk than there is cream."

  "He is very young to be thinking of such things," said Margueritecoldly.

  "When you come to age, he is no younger than your noble brother, who isto wed the Princess Juana; or the young heir of Spain, who is to wed acertain princess of my acquaintance, a lady not quite sixteen. Let ussuppose that Philibert had his mind fixed upon some maiden, who was inhis own rank when he was simply to be a count, then, suddenly, he popsup into the circle of dukes, where he must look down upon her. It isenough to make any man gloomy."

  "Sometimes you talk in a very sensible manner, Le Glorieux," said theLady Marguerite, frowning, "but to-day you speak nothing but nonsense."And she walked away with her head held high as was always the case whenshe was out of temper.

  Looking after her slender figure as it disappeared through an archway,the jester muttered to himself, "Not to contradict a princess of theblood royal, I want to say that I never was more sensible than I am atthis very moment."

  * * * * *

  One summer day a gallant armada set sail for the coast of Flanders. Itconsisted of one hundred and thirty fine vessels, and it was manned byhundreds of sailors; it carried the chivalry of Spain, and it wascommanded by the Admiral of Castile. Never had so beautiful a fleetsailed from the Spanish coast, for it brought to Philip of Flanders, theson of Maximilian, his bride, the Infanta Juana.

  The people were eager to see the bride of their prince, but if they hadexpected a beauty, they were disappointed. Juana was pale and delicatein appearance, and, as a French writer of the time expresses it, "asomber fire seemed to burn in her eyes."

  "We shall send Spain a far handsomer bride than she sent to us," said LeGlorieux exultantly.

  The wedding of Philip and Juana took place in Lille with great pomp andceremony, and the fleet waited, for it was to take another royal brideon its return trip! But many of the vessels needed repairs after theirstormy voyage, and it was some time before they were ready to sail.

  Philibert de Bresse, in the meantime, had received news of the death ofhis father; and, taking leave of his friends at court, he returned tohis own country, of which he was now the ruler.

  A little princess saying farewell to her parents to go to a strange landwhere she must remain as long as she lives, is one of the pathetic sidesof history; but Marguerite, although very sad at the thought of leavingher adored father, endeavored to be resigned and even cheerful. Beforethe day of her departure there came a messenger from Savoy with a littlepacket for the princess. It contained a locket in which was set indiamonds and emeralds an edelweiss, accompanied by the following words,"The name of this flower signifies 'noble purity,' a fitting gift forthis fair daughter of the Hapsburgs."

  After all Marguerite was little more than a child, and she could not butlook forward with pleasure to the coming voyage, since if one must leaveone's native land, it is good to sail away with a splendid fleet. ButCunegunda was inclined to take a gloomy view of the coming journey."When you travel by land," said she, "you may be killed, of course, buteven in that case, you are there in plain view and can be seen; but ifyou are drowned, why, where are you?"

  "In the bottom of the sea, where you are every bit as comfortable as youwould be on land, if you were dead," said Le Glorieux.

  "It is a very dangerous trip, and I weep whenever I think of it," saidthe good woman.

  "You weep when you do not think of it, so what difference does it make?"asked the jester. Brutus, who now was full grown and a hound ofextraordinary intelligence, looked at Le Glorieux and wagged his tail,as if fully approving of this sentiment. "It is true, is it not, myfriend Brutus, that Cunegunda never misses a chance to cry?" asked thefool, patting the dog's head.

  "I know something that will make you cry," said Cunegunda maliciously.

  "You could not make me cry, my good lady," replied he. "Think of all forwhich I have to be thankful: I am still young, I am handsome, I am goingto Spain, the land of bull-fights, flowers, and oranges. My littleprincess is going to marry one of the finest princes of his time, and weshall all be happy, even you, for wherever you are you can always findsomething to cry about; and weeping is your favorite occupation."

  "The Lady Clotilde is going to Spain with us," said Cunegunda slyly.

  "You do not mean it!" exclaimed the jester, considerably dismayed.

  "But I do mean it. You might have known that her husband would some timetake her to his native country."

  "Yes, but not at this time," cried the fool excitedly. "Why must she goon this particular voyage? Why is it always convenient for Clotilde tostart out just as I am going? She will miss some article that she owns,and every ship will have to be searched for it. Is it not strange theway things come about in this world?" he continued complainingly. "Ilove that little rascal of an Antoine, and he is to remain here. I amfond of Pandora and Pittacus, though they always treat me with coldindifference, and they must be left behind; but Clotilde, whom I wouldgladly spare, goes with me!"

  With this double marriage Austria was making a precious gift toSpain--she was giving the great possessions of the Hapsburgs, but thefairest gift of all was the young princess, whose departure drew out agreat concourse of people. With flags flying and pennons waving, theships were waiting, the largest and the handsomest for the LadyMarguerite and her suite. The picture of the princess that remained inthe memory of those who saw her on that day was a slight, gracefulfigure standing where the sunlight shone full on her sweet young face,and with one hand resting on the head of her hound.

  Then the great fleet fluttered away like a flight of huge butterflies,skimming southward.

  "I do not see why I should feel so melancholy," said Le Glorieux, goinginside and sitting with his head on his hands and his elbows on hisknees. "Austria was not my native country; I was born in old Burgundy,and it is too late to be sniveling at parting from Burgundy. It isbecause I have parted with that little villain of an Antoine that I amlike this. When I saw the little wretch smiling at me from the shore,and waving his hand and blinking his eyes, as if he were trying to keepback the tears, what must this tough old heart of mine do but climbright into my throat and try to choke me to death. A heart that hasserved me well for all these years to play me a trick like that!"

  "Will you please rise?" said a cold metallic voice at his elbow.Glancing up Le Glorieux beheld Don Geronimo, the husband of the LadyClotilde. The jester's gaze traveled up the tall, thin form of theSpaniard until it reached his face, which was dark and reminded the foolof tanned leather.

  "There being no particular reason why I should rise, I shall not riseuntil it pleases me to do so," said he.

  "Permit my servant to take those cushions which are beneath you," saidDon Geronimo icily. "You are sitting on a whole pile of them. They arewanted for my wife, the Dona Clotilde, who is overcome."

  "I will give anything to any lady at any time," said the fool, rising,"but I should like to know what has overcome your lady wife so soon."

  "Parting from her friends," replied the Spaniard, following his man, whowas loaded down w
ith cushions.

  "She did not care as much for the whole of Austria and Flanders as Icared for that miserable little Antoine," grumbled the fool; "yet shemust be packed away in cushions that are jerked from under my very bodyto make her comfortable. And our princess is so bravely bearing theparting from her father, and is giving no trouble whatever! Any onewould think it is Clotilde who is being sent away in such state byAustria."

  The first day out it seemed as if the voyage was to be a calm and safeone. When the novelty of gazing at the blue waters had worn off, theprincess and her ladies took their embroidery frames and passed theirtime with their needles, laughing and chattering together. As soon asshe had ceased to be overcome, the Lady Clotilde joined them. When theconversation turned to the perils of the ocean, she declared that she,for one, did not fear them, being a true representative of a family thatknew no fear. She related a number of incidents when, according to herstory, she had stood within the very jaws of death without the slightestthrill of fear.

  Le Glorieux, who was sitting at the feet of his young mistress playingwith the silk-and-gold threads of her embroidery, remarked, "That isbecause you spend so much of your time in pious reading, CousinClotilde. Did you bring with you the silver book about the saints?"

  The princess tried to frown at him, but he saw the twinkle of a smileunder her long, dark lashes.

  But these were the last peaceful hours they spent for many days. In thedarkness of the night the storm demon came forth, shrieking in thewind, and beating the waves into fury, holding the ships a tremblinginstant on the crest of the wave, then dashing them into the trough ofthe sea, sending some of them down to destruction.

  Half dressed, the passengers of the Lady Marguerite's ship rushed outinto the salon. They forgot that they were the great ones of the earthand that to them had been given the honor of escorting a princess to herbridegroom. They knelt on the floor, and moaned, and told their beads,just as so many peasants might have done.

  The Lady Marguerite was calm, though very pale; close beside her stoodLe Glorieux, self-possessed, but no longer jesting. "If the good God isready to take me now, I could not have a happier death than to go downwith my little princess," said he.

  Cunegunda held her lady's hand, which, forgetting her own danger, shestroked, with words of endearment, while Brutus crept to her feet, andputting his head on her lap, looked into the face of his mistress as ifto say that he, too, was ready to die with her.

  The storm did not abate with the approach of day, nor did it cease thenext day, nor for many days, and it seemed as if their ship must be rentto pieces by the combined forces of wind and wave.

  Once Le Glorieux seized Cunegunda by the shoulders and bawled into herears, "You are always crying; cry now, when there is some reason forit." But strange to say, Cunegunda shed no tears, though the LadyClotilde shrieked and wept continuously, seeming to forget all thetraditions of her family.

  When learning that a number of the vessels had been lost, and that nonecould tell at what moment her own ship would go down, Marguerite putcertain jewels on her fingers, neck, and arms that had long been in thepossession of the house of Hapsburg. "The body of a princess is notdifferent from that of a peasant," she said to her faithful attendants,"and it may be that the fury of the storm will spare me some of thesejewels; so that if I am washed ashore I shall be identified." Then shesmiled to keep up the courage of the others and said, "It seems thatwith all the planning of nations I am never to be a wife."

  Then taking a slip of paper she wrote upon it two lines, which shewrapped in a piece of oiled silk and fastened to her bracelet. Theselines, written in French, may be translated as follows, "Here liesMarguerite, a noble maiden, who, though given two husbands, died amaid."

  But even a storm at sea can not last for ever, and the stout ship, beingmercifully spared, arrived at last with the remainder of the fleet insafety at the port of Santander.

 
Cornelia Baker's Novels