CHAPTER XXVI: THE INTERVIEW
When Princes meet, Astrologers may mark it An ominous conjunction, full of boding, Like that of Mars with Saturn.
OLD PLAY
One hardly knows whether to term it a privilege or a penalty annexed tothe quality of princes, that, in their intercourse with each other, theyare required by the respect which is due to their own rank and dignity,to regulate their feelings and expressions by a severe etiquette, whichprecludes all violent and avowed display of passion, and which, but thatthe whole world are aware that this assumed complaisance is a matter ofceremony, might justly pass for profound dissimulation. It is no lesscertain, however, that the overstepping of these bounds of ceremonial,for the purpose of giving more direct vent to their angry passions, hasthe effect of compromising their dignity with the world in general;as was particularly noted when those distinguished rivals, Francis theFirst and the Emperor Charles, gave each other the lie direct, and weredesirous of deciding their differences hand to hand, in single combat.
Charles of Burgundy, the most hasty and impatient, nay, the mostimprudent prince of his time, found himself, nevertheless, fetteredwithin the magic circle which prescribed the most profound deference toLouis, as his Suzerain and liege Lord, who had deigned to confer uponhim, a vassal of the crown, the distinguished honour of a personalvisit. Dressed in his ducal mantle, and attended by his great officersand principal knights and nobles, he went in gallant cavalcade toreceive Louis XI. His retinue absolutely blazed with gold and silver;for the wealth of the Court of England being exhausted by the wars ofYork and Lancaster, and the expenditure of France limited by the economyof the Sovereign, that of Burgundy was for the time the most magnificentin Europe. The cortege of Louis, on the contrary, was few in number, andcomparatively mean in appearance, and the exterior of the King himself,in a threadbare cloak, with his wonted old high crowned hat stuck fullof images, rendered the contrast yet more striking; and as the Duke,richly attired with the coronet and mantle of state, threw himselffrom his noble charger, and, kneeling on one knee, offered to hold thestirrup while Louis dismounted from his little ambling palfrey, theeffect was almost grotesque.
The greeting between the two potentates was, of course, as full ofaffected kindness and compliment as it was totally devoid of sincerity.But the temper of the Duke rendered it much more difficult for him topreserve the necessary appearances, in voice, speech, and demeanour;while in the King, every species of simulation and dissimulation seemedso much a part of his nature that those best acquainted with him couldnot have distinguished what was feigned from what was real.
Perhaps the most accurate illustration, were it not unworthy two suchhigh potentates, would be to suppose the King in the situation of astranger, perfectly acquainted with the habits and dispositions of thecanine race, who, for some, purpose of his own, is desirous to makefriends with a large and surly mastiff that holds him in suspicion andis disposed to worry him on the first symptoms either of diffidence orof umbrage. The mastiff growls internally, erects his bristles, showshis teeth, yet is ashamed to fly upon the intruder, who seems at thesame time so kind and so confiding, and therefore the animal enduresadvances which are far from pacifying him, watching at the same time theslightest opportunity which may justify him in his own eyes for seizinghis friend by the throat.
The King was no doubt sensible, from the altered voice, constrainedmanner, and abrupt gestures of the Duke, that the game he had to playwas delicate, and perhaps he more than once repented having ever takenit in hand. But repentance was too late, and all that remained for himwas that inimitable dexterity of management, which the King understoodequally at least with any man that ever lived.
The demeanour which Louis used towards the Duke was such as to resemblethe kind overflowing of the heart in a moment of sincere reconciliationwith an honoured and tried friend, from whom he had been estrangedby temporary circumstances now passed away, and forgotten as soonas removed. The King blamed himself for not having sooner taken thedecisive step, of convincing his kind and good kinsman by such a markof confidence as he was now bestowing, that the angry passages whichhad occurred betwixt them were nothing in his remembrance, when weighedagainst the kindness which received him when an exile from France, andunder the displeasure of the King his father. He spoke of the good Dukeof Burgundy, as Philip the father of Duke Charles was currently called,and remembered a thousand instances of his paternal kindness.
"I think, cousin," he said, "your father made little difference in hisaffection betwixt you and me; for I remember when by an accident I hadbewildered myself in a hunting party, I found the good Duke upbraidingyou with leaving me in the forest, as if you had been careless of thesafety of an elder brother."
The Duke of Burgundy's features were naturally harsh and severe; andwhen he attempted to smile, in polite acquiescence to the truth of whatthe King told him, the grimace which he made was truly diabolical.
"Prince of dissemblers," he said, in his secret soul, "would thatit stood with my honour to remind you how you have requited all thebenefits of our House!"
"And then," continued the King, "if the ties of consanguinity andgratitude are not sufficient to bind us together, my fair cousin, wehave those of spiritual relationship; for I am godfather to your fairdaughter Mary, who is as dear to me as one of my own maidens; and whenthe Saints (their holy name be blessed!) sent me a little blossom whichwithered in the course of three months, it was your princely father whoheld it at the font, and celebrated the ceremony of baptism with richerand prouder magnificence than Paris itself could have afforded. Nevershall I forget the deep, the indelible impression which the generosityof Duke Philip, and yours, my dearest cousin, made upon the half brokenheart of the poor exile!"
"Your Majesty," said the Duke, compelling himself to make some reply,"acknowledged that slight obligation in terms which overpaid all thedisplay which Burgundy could make, to show a due sense of the honour youhad done its Sovereign."
"I remember the words you mean, fair cousin," said the King, smiling;"I think they were, that in guerdon of the benefit of that day, I, poorwanderer, had nothing to offer, save the persons of myself, of my wife,and of my child.--Well, and I think I have indifferently well redeemedmy pledge."
"I mean not to dispute what your Majesty is pleased to aver," said theDuke; "but--"
"But you ask," said the King, interrupting him, "how my actions haveaccorded with my words.--Marry thus: the body of my infant child Joachimrests in Burgundian earth--my own person I have this morning placedunreservedly in your power--and, for that of my wife,--truly, cousin, Ithink, considering the period of time which has passed, you will scarceinsist on my keeping my word in that particular. She was born on the Dayof the Blessed Annunciation" (he crossed himself, and muttered an Orapro nobis [intercede for us]), "some fifty years since; but she isno farther distant than Rheims, and if you insist on my promise beingfulfilled to the letter, she shall presently wait your pleasure."
Angry as the Duke of Burgundy was at the barefaced attempt of the Kingto assume towards him a tone of friendship and intimacy, he could nothelp laughing at the whimsical reply of that singular monarch, and hislaugh was as discordant as the abrupt tones of passion in which he oftenspoke. Having laughed longer and louder than was at that period, orwould now be, thought fitting the time and occasion, he answered inthe same tone, bluntly declining the honour of the Queen's company, butstating his willingness to accept that of the King's eldest daughter,whose beauty was celebrated.
"I am happy, fair cousin," said the King, with one of those dubioussmiles of which he frequently made use, "that your gracious pleasurehas not fixed on my younger daughter, Joan. I should otherwise have hadspear breaking between you and my cousin of Orleans; and, had harm comeof it, I must on either side have lost a kind friend and affectionatecousin."
"Nay, nay, my royal sovereign," said Duke Charles, "the Duke of Orleansshall have no interruption from me in the path which he has chosen paramours. The caus
e in which I couch my lance against Orleans must be fairand straight."
Louis was far from taking amiss this brutal allusion to the personaldeformity of the Princess Joan. On the contrary, he was rather pleasedto find that the Duke was content to be amused with broad jests, inwhich he was himself a proficient, and which (according to the modernphrase) spared much sentimental hypocrisy. Accordingly, he speedilyplaced their intercourse on such a footing that Charles, though he feltit impossible to play the part of an affectionate and reconciled friendto a monarch whose ill offices he had so often encountered, and whosesincerity on the present occasion he so strongly doubted, yet had nodifficulty in acting the hearty landlord towards a facetious guest; andso the want of reciprocity in kinder feelings between them wassupplied by the tone of good fellowship which exists between two booncompanions--a tone natural to the Duke from the frankness, and, it mightbe added, the grossness of his character, and to Louis, because, thoughcapable of assuming any mood of social intercourse, that which reallysuited him best was mingled with grossness of ideas and of caustichumour and expression.
Both Princes were happily able to preserve, during the period of abanquet at the town house of Peronne, the same kind of conversation,on which they met as on a neutral ground, and which, as Louis easilyperceived, was more available than any other to keep the Duke ofBurgundy in that state of composure which seemed necessary to his ownsafety.
Yet he was alarmed to observe that the Duke had around him several ofthose French nobles, and those of the highest rank, and in situationsof great trust and power, whom his own severity or injustice had driveninto exile; and it was to secure himself from the possible effects oftheir resentment and revenge, that (as already mentioned) he requestedto be lodged in the Castle or Citadel of Peronne, rather than in thetown itself. This was readily granted by Duke Charles, with one of thosegrim smiles of which it was impossible to say whether it meant good orharm to the party whom it concerned.
[Scott quotes from the Memoires of De Comines as follows: "thesenobles... inspired Louis with so much suspicion that he... demanded tobe lodged in the old Castle of Peronne, and thus rendered himself anabsolute captive."]
But when the King, expressing himself with as much delicacy as he could,and in the manner he thought best qualified to lull suspicion asleep,asked whether the Scottish Archers of his Guard might not maintain thecustody of the Castle of Peronne during his residence there, in lieu ofthe gate of the town which the Duke had offered to their care, Charlesreplied, with his wonted sternness of voice and abruptness of manner,rendered more alarming by his habit, when he spoke, of either turningup his mustaches, or handling his sword or dagger, the last of whichhe used frequently to draw a little way, and then return to the sheath[this gesture, very indicative of a fierce character, is also by stagetradition a distinction of Shakespeare's Richard III. S.],
"Saint Martin! No, my Liege. You are in your vassal's camp and city--somen call me in respect to your Majesty--my castle and town are yours,and my men are yours; so it is indifferent whether my men at arms orthe Scottish Archers guard either the outer gate or defences of theCastle.--No, by Saint George! Peronne is a virgin fortress--sheshall not lose her reputation by any neglect of mine. Maidens must becarefully watched, my royal cousin, if we would have them continue tolive in good fame."
"Surely, fair cousin, and I altogether agree with you," said the King,"I being in fact more interested in the reputation of the good littletown than you are--Peronne being, as you know, fair cousin, one of thoseupon the same river Somme, which, pledged to your father of happy memoryfor redemption of money, are liable to be redeemed upon repayment. And,to speak truth; coming, like an honest debtor, disposed to clear offmy obligations of every kind, I have brought here a few sumpter mulesloaded with silver for the redemption--enough to maintain even yourprincely and royal establishment, fair cousin, for the space of threeyears."
"I will not receive a penny of it," said the Duke, twirling hismustaches--"the day of redemption is past, my royal cousin; nor werethere ever serious purpose that the right should be exercised, thecession of these towns being the sole recompense my father ever receivedfrom France, when, in a happy hour for your family, he consented toforget the murder of my grandfather, and to exchange the alliance ofEngland for that of your father. Saint George! if he had not so acted,your royal self, far from having towns in the Somme, could scarce havekept those beyond the Loire. No--I will not render a stone of them, wereI to receive for every stone so rendered its weight in gold. I thankGod, and the wisdom and valour of my ancestors, that the revenues ofBurgundy, though it be a duchy, will maintain my state, even when a Kingis my guest, without obliging me to barter my heritage."
"Well, fair cousin," answered the King, with the same mild and placidmanner as before, and unperturbed by the loud tone and violent gesturesof the Duke, "I see that you are so good a friend to France that you areunwilling to part with aught that belongs to her. But we shall needsome moderator in those affairs when we come to treat of them incouncil.--What say you to Saint Paul?"
"Neither Saint Paul, nor Saint Peter, nor e'er a Saint in the Calendar,"said the Duke of Burgundy, "shall preach me out of the possession ofPeronne."
"Nay, but you mistake me," said King Louis, smiling; "I mean Louis deLuxembourg, our trusty constable, the Count of Saint Paul.--Ah! SaintMary of Embrun! we lack but his head at our conference! the best headin France, and the most useful to the restoration of perfect harmonybetwixt us."
"By Saint George of Burgundy!" said the Duke, "I marvel to hear yourMajesty talk thus of a man, false and perjured, both to France andBurgundy--one who hath ever endeavoured to fan into a flame our frequentdifferences, and that with the purpose of giving himself the airs of amediator. I swear by the Order I wear that his marshes shall not be longa resource for him!"
"Be not so warm, cousin," said the King, smiling, and speaking under hisbreath; "when I wished for the head constable, as a means of ending thesettlement of our trifling differences, I had no desire for his body,which might remain at Saint Quentin's with much convenience."
"Ho! ho! I take your meaning, my royal cousin," said Charles, with thesame dissonant laugh which some other of the King's coarse pleasantrieshad extorted; and added, stamping his heel on the ground, "I allow, inthat sense, the head of the Constable might be useful at Peronne."
These, and other discourses, by which the King mixed hints at seriousaffairs amid matters of mirth and amusement, did not follow each otherconsecutively; but were adroitly introduced during the time of thebanquet at the Hotel de Ville, during a subsequent interview in theDuke's own apartments, and, in short, as occasion seemed to render theintroduction of such delicate subjects easy and natural.
Indeed, however rashly Louis had placed himself in a risk which theDuke's fiery temper and the mutual subjects of exasperated enmity whichsubsisted betwixt them rendered of doubtful and perilous issue, neverpilot on an unknown coast conducted himself with more firmness andprudence. He seemed to sound with the utmost address and precisionthe depths and shallows of his rival's mind and temper, and manifestedneither doubt nor fear when the result of his experiments discoveredmuch more of sunken rocks and of dangerous shoals than of safeanchorage.
At length a day closed which must have been a wearisome one to Louis,from the constant exertion, vigilance, precaution, and attention whichhis situation required, as it was a day of constraint to the Duke, fromthe necessity of suppressing the violent feelings to which he was in thegeneral habit of giving uncontrolled vent.
No sooner had the latter retired into his own apartment, after he hadtaken a formal leave of the King for the night, than he gave way to theexplosion of passion which he had so long suppressed; and many an oathand abusive epithet, as his jester, Le Glorieux said, "fell that nightupon heads which they were never coined for," his domestics reapingthe benefit of that hoard of injurious language which he could not indecency bestow on his royal guest, even in his absence, and which wasyet become too great to be altogeth
er suppressed. The jests of the clownhad some effect in tranquillizing the Duke's angry mood--he laughedloudly, threw the jester a piece of gold, caused himself to be disrobedin tranquillity, swallowed a deep cup of wine and spices, went to bed,and slept soundly.
The couchee of King Louis is more worthy of notice than that of Charles;for the violent expression of exasperated and headlong passion, asindeed it belongs more to the brutal than the intelligent part of ournature, has little to interest us, in comparison to the deep workings ofa vigorous and powerful mind.
Louis was escorted to the lodgings he had chosen in the Castle, orCitadel of Peronne, by the Chamberlains and harbingers of the Duke ofBurgundy, and received at the entrance by a strong guard of archers andmen at arms.
As he descended from his horse to cross the drawbridge, over a moat ofunusual width and depth, he looked on the sentinels, and observed toComines, who accompanied him, with other Burgundian nobles, "They wearSaint Andrew's crosses--but not those of my Scottish Archers."
"You will find them as ready to die in your defence, Sire," said theBurgundian, whose sagacious ear had detected in the King's tone ofspeech a feeling which doubtless Louis would have concealed if he could."They wear the Saint Andrew's Cross as the appendage of the collar ofthe Golden Fleece, my master the Duke of Burgundy's Order."
"Do I not know it?" said Louis, showing the collar which he himself worein compliment to his host. "It is one of the dear bonds of fraternitywhich exist between my kind brother and myself. We are brothers inchivalry, as in spiritual relationship; cousins by birth, and friends byevery tie of kind feeling and good neighbourhood.--No farther than thebase court, my noble lords and gentlemen! I can permit your attendanceno farther--you have done me enough of grace."
"We were charged by the Duke," said D'Hymbercourt, "to bring yourMajesty to your lodging.--We trust your Majesty will permit us to obeyour master's command."
"In this small matter," said the King, "I trust you will allow mycommand to outweigh his, even with you his liege subjects.--I amsomething indisposed, my lords--something fatigued. Great pleasure hathits toils, as well as great pain. I trust to enjoy your society bettertomorrow.--And yours, too, Seignior Philip of Comines--I am told you arethe annalist of the time--we that desire to have a name in historymust speak you fair, for men say your pen hath a sharp point, when youwill.--Goodnight, my lords and gentles, to all and each of you."
The Lords of Burgundy retired, much pleased with the grace of Louis'smanner, and the artful distribution of his attentions; and the Kingwas left with only one or two of his own personal followers, under thearchway of the base court of the Castle of Peronne, looking on the hugetower which occupied one of the angles, being in fact the Donjon, orprincipal Keep, of the palace. This tall, dark, massive building wasseen clearly by the same moon which was lighting Quentin Durwardbetwixt Charleroi and Peronne, which, as the reader is aware, shone withpeculiar lustre. The great Keep was in form nearly resembling theWhite Tower in the Citadel of London, but still more ancient in itsarchitecture, deriving its date, as was affirmed, from the days ofCharlemagne. The walls were of a tremendous thickness, the windows verysmall, and grated with bars of iron, and the huge clumsy bulk ofthe building cast a dark and portentous shadow over the whole of thecourtyard.
"I am not to be lodged there," the King said, with a shudder that hadsomething in it ominous.
"No," replied the gray headed seneschal, who attended upon himunbonneted. "God forbid!--Your Majesty's apartments are prepared inthese lower buildings which are hard by, and in which King John slepttwo nights before the battle of Poitiers."
"Hum--that is no lucky omen neither," muttered the King; "but what ofthe Tower, my old friend? and why should you desire of Heaven that I maynot be there lodged?"
"Nay, my gracious Liege," said the seneschal, "I know no evil of theTower at all, only that the sentinels say lights are seen, and strangenoises heard in it at night; and there are reasons why that may be thecase, for anciently it was used as a state prison, and there are manytales of deeds which have been done in it."
Louis asked no further questions; for no man was more bound than he torespect the secrets of a prison house. At the door of the apartmentsdestined for his use, which, though of later date than the Tower, werestill both ancient and gloomy, stood a small party of the ScottishGuard, which the Duke, although he declined to concede the point toLouis, had ordered to be introduced, so as to be near the person oftheir master. The faithful Lord Crawford was at their head.
"Crawford--my honest and faithful Crawford," said the King, "wherehast thou been today?--Are the Lords of Burgundy so inhospitable as toneglect one of the bravest and most noble gentlemen that ever trode acourt?--I saw you not at the banquet."
"I declined it, my Liege," said Crawford, "times are changed with me.The day has been that I could have ventured a carouse with the best manin Burgundy and that in the juice of his own grape; but a matter of fourpints now flusters me, and I think it concerns your Majesty's service toset in this an example to my gallants."
"Thou art ever prudent," said the King, "but surely your toil is theless when you have so few men to command?--and a time of festivityrequires not so severe self denial on your part as a time of danger."
"If I have few men to command," said Crawford, "I have the more need tokeep the knaves in fitting condition; and whether this business be liketo end in feasting or fighting, God and your Majesty know better thanold John of Crawford."
"You surely do not apprehend any danger?" said the King hastily, yet ina whisper.
"Not I," answered Crawford; "I wish I did; for, as old Earl Tineman [anEarl of Douglas, so called. S.] used to say, apprehended dangers maybe always defended dangers.--The word for the night, if your Majestypleases?"
"Let it be Burgundy, in honour of our host and of a liquor that youlove, Crawford."
"I will quarrel with neither Duke nor drink, so called," said Crawford,"provided always that both be sound. A good night to your Majesty!"
"A good night, my trusty Scot," said the King, and passed on to hisapartments.
At the door of his bedroom Le Balafre was placed sentinel. "Follow mehither," said the King, as he passed him; and the Archer accordingly,like a piece of machinery put into motion by an artist, strode after himinto the apartment, and remained there fixed, silent, and motionless,attending the royal command.
"Have you heard from that wandering Paladin, your nephew?" said theKing; "for he hath been lost to us, since, like a young knight who hadset out upon his first adventures, he sent us home two prisoners as thefirst fruits of his chivalry."
"My Lord, I heard something of that," said Balafre, "and I hope yourMajesty will believe that if he acted wrongfully, it was in no shape byany precept or example, since I never was so bold as to unhorse any ofyour Majesty's most illustrious house, better knowing my own condition,and--"
"Be silent on that point," said the King; "your nephew did his duty inthe matter."
"There indeed," continued Balafre, "he had the cue from me.--'Quentin,'said I to him, 'whatever comes of it, remember you belong to theScottish Archer Guard, and do your duty whatever comes on't.'"
"I guess he had some such exquisite instructor," said Louis; "but itconcerns me that you answer me my first question.--Have you heard ofyour nephew of late?--Stand aback, my masters," he added, addressing thegentlemen of his chamber, "for this concerneth no ears but mine."
"Surely, please your Majesty," said Balafre, "I have seen this veryevening the groom Charlot, whom my kinsman dispatched from Liege, orsome castle of the Bishop's which is near it, and where he hath lodgedthe Ladies of Croye in safety."
"Now Our Lady of Heaven be praised for it!" said the King. "Art thousure of it?--sure of the good news?"
"As sure as I can be of aught," said Le Balafre, "the fellow, I think,hath letters for your Majesty from the Ladies of Croye."
"Haste to get them," said the King. "Give the harquebuss to one of theseknaves--to Oliver--to any one. Now Our Lad
y of Embrun be praised! andsilver shall be the screen that surrounds her high altar!"
Louis, in this fit of gratitude and devotion, doffed, as usual, hishat, selected from the figures with which it was garnished that whichrepresented his favourite image of the Virgin, placed it on a table,and, kneeling down, repeated reverently the vow he had made.
The groom, being the first messenger whom Durward had despatched fromSchonwaldt, was now introduced with his letters. They were addressedto the King by the Ladies of Croye, and barely thanked him in very coldterms for his courtesy while at his Court, and something more warmlyfor having permitted them to retire and sent them in safety from hisdominions; expressions at which Louis laughed very heartily, insteadof resenting them. He then demanded of Charlot, with obvious interest,whether they had not sustained some alarm or attack upon the road?Charlot, a stupid fellow, and selected for that quality, gave a veryconfused account of the affray in which his companion, the Gascon, hadbeen killed, but knew of no other. Again Louis demanded of him, minutelyand particularly, the route which the party had taken to Liege; andseemed much interested when he was informed, in reply, that they had,upon approaching Namur, kept the more direct road to Liege, upon theright bank of the Maes, instead of the left bank, as recommendedin their route. The King then ordered the man a small present, anddismissed him, disguising the anxiety he had expressed as if it onlyconcerned the safety of the Ladies of Croye.
Yet the news, though they implied the failure of one of his ownfavourite plans, seemed to imply more internal satisfaction on theKing's part than he would have probably indicated in a case of brilliantsuccess. He sighed like one whose breast has been relieved from a heavyburden, muttered his devotional acknowledgments with an air of deepsanctity, raised up his eyes, and hastened to adjust newer and surerschemes of ambition.
With such purpose, Louis ordered the attendance of his astrologer,Martius Galeotti, who appeared with his usual air of assumed dignity,yet not without a shade of uncertainty on his brow, as if he had doubtedthe King's kind reception. It was, however, favourable, even beyond thewarmest which he had ever met with at any former interview. Louis termedhim his friend, his father in the sciences--the glass by which a kingshould look into distant futurity--and concluded by thrusting on hisfinger a ring of very considerable value. Galeotti, not aware of thecircumstances which had thus suddenly raised his character in theestimation of Louis, yet understood his own profession too well to letthat ignorance be seen. He received with grave modesty the praises ofLouis, which he contended were only due to the nobleness of thescience which he practised, a science the rather the more deserving ofadmiration on account of its working miracles through means of so feeblean agent as himself; and he and the King took leave, for once muchsatisfied with each other.
On the Astrologer's departure, Louis threw himself into a chair,and appearing much exhausted, dismissed the rest of his attendants,excepting Oliver alone, who, creeping around with gentle assiduity andnoiseless step, assisted him in the task of preparing for repose.
While he received this assistance, the King, unlike to his wont, was sosilent and passive, that his attendant was struck by the unusualchange in his deportment. The worst minds have often something ofgood principle in them--banditti show fidelity to their captain, andsometimes a protected and promoted favourite has felt a gleam of sincereinterest in the monarch to whom he owed his greatness. Oliver le Diable,le Mauvais (or by whatever other name he was called expressive of hisevil propensities), was, nevertheless, scarcely so completely identifiedwith Satan as not to feel some touch of grateful feeling for his masterin this singular condition, when, as it seemed, his fate was deeplyinterested and his strength seemed to be exhausted. After for a shorttime rendering to the King in silence the usual services paid by aservant to his master at the toilette, the attendant was at lengthtempted to say, with the freedom which his Sovereign's indulgence hadpermitted him in such circumstances, "Tete dieu, Sire, you seem as ifyou had lost a battle; and yet I, who was near your Majesty during thiswhole day, never knew you fight a field so gallantly."
"A field!" said King Louis, looking up, and assuming his wontedcausticity of tone and manner. "Pasques dieu, my friend Oliver, say Ihave kept the arena in a bullfight; for a blinder, and more stubborn,untameable, uncontrollable brute than our cousin of Burgundy neverexisted, save in the shape of a Murcian bull, trained for the bullfeasts.--Well, let it pass--I dodged him bravely. But, Oliver, rejoicewith me that my plans in Flanders have not taken effect, whether asconcerning those two rambling Princesses of Croye, or in Liege--youunderstand me?"
"In faith, I do not, Sire," replied Oliver; "it is impossible for meto congratulate your Majesty on the failure of your favourite schemes,unless you tell me some reason for the change in your own wishes andviews."
"Nay," answered the King, "there is no change in either, in a generalview. But, Pasques dieu, my friend, I have this day learned more of DukeCharles than I before knew. When he was Count de Charalois, in the timeof the old Duke Philip and the banished Dauphin of France, we drank, andhunted, and rambled together--and many a wild adventure we have had.And in those days I had a decided advantage over him--like that whicha strong spirit naturally assumes over a weak one. But he has sincechanged--has become a dogged, daring, assuming, disputatious dogmatist,who nourishes an obvious wish to drive matters to extremities, whilehe thinks he has the game in his own hands. I was compelled to glide asgently away from each offensive topic, as if I touched red hot iron. Idid but hint at the possibility of those erratic Countesses of Croye,ere they attained Liege (for thither I frankly confessed that, to thebest of my belief, they were gone), falling into the hands of some wildsnapper upon the frontiers, and, Pasques dieu! you would have thoughtI had spoken of sacrilege. It is needless to tell you what he said,and quite enough to say that I would have held my head's safety veryinsecure, if, in that moment, accounts had been brought of the successof thy friend, William with the Beard, in his and thy honest scheme ofbettering himself by marriage."
"No friend of mine, if it please your Majesty," said Oliver, "neitherfriend nor plan of mine."
"True, Oliver," answered the King; "thy plan had not been to wed, butto shave such a bridegroom. Well, thou didst wish her as bad a one, whenthou didst modestly hint at thyself. However, Oliver, lucky the manwho has her not; for hang, draw, and quarter were the most gentle wordswhich my gentle cousin spoke of him who should wed the young Countess,his vassal, without his most ducal permission."
"And he is, doubtless, as jealous of any disturbances in the good townof Liege?" asked the favourite.
"As much, or much more," replied the King, "as your understanding mayeasily anticipate; but, ever since I resolved on coming hither, mymessengers have been in Liege to repress, for the present, everymovement to insurrection; and my very busy and bustling friends,Rousalaer and Pavillon, have orders to be quiet as a mouse until thishappy meeting between my cousin and me is over."
"Judging, then, from your Majesty's account," said Oliver dryly, "theutmost to be hoped from this meeting is that it should not make yourcondition worse--Surely this is like the crane that thrust her head intothe fox's mouth, and was glad to thank her good fortune that it was notbitten off. Yet your Majesty seemed deeply obliged even now to the sagephilosopher who encouraged you to play so hopeful a game."
"No game," said the King sharply, "is to be despaired of until it islost, and that I have no reason to expect it will be in my own case.On the contrary, if nothing occurs to stir the rage of this vindictivemadman, I am sure of victory; and surely, I am not a little obliged tothe skill which selected for my agent, as the conductor of the Ladiesof Croye, a youth whose horoscope so far corresponded with mine that hehath saved me from danger, even by the disobedience of my own commands,and taking the route which avoided De la Marck's ambuscade."
"Your Majesty," said Oliver, "may find many agents who will serve youon the terms of acting rather after their own pleasure than yourinstructions."
"Nay, nay, O
liver," said Louis impatiently, "the heathen poet speaks ofVota diis exaudita malignis,--wishes, that is, which the saints grant tous in their wrath; and such, in the circumstances, would have been thesuccess of William de la Marck's exploit, had it taken place about thistime, and while I am in the power of this Duke of Burgundy.--And this myown art foresaw--fortified by that of Galeotti--that is, I foresaw notthe miscarriage of De la Marck's undertaking, but I foresaw that theexpedition of yonder Scottish Archer should end happily for me--and suchhas been the issue, though in a manner different from what I expected;for the stars, though they foretell general results, are yet silent onthe means by which such are accomplished, being often the very reverseof what we expect, or even desire.--But why talk I of these mysteriesto thee, Oliver, who art in so far worse than the very devil, who is thynamesake, since he believes and trembles; whereas thou art an infidelboth to religion and to science, and wilt remain so till thine owndestiny is accomplished, which as thy horoscope and physiognomy alikeassure me, will be by the intervention of the gallows!"
"And if it indeed shall be so," said Oliver, in a resigned tone ofvoice, "it will be so ordered, because I was too grateful a servant tohesitate at executing the commands of my royal master."
Louis burst into his usual sardonic laugh.--"Thou hast broke thy lanceon me fairly, Oliver; and by Our Lady thou art right, for I defied theeto it. But, prithee, tell me in sadness, dost thou discover anything inthese measures towards us which may argue any suspicion of ill usage?"
"My Liege," replied Oliver, "your Majesty and yonder learned philosopherlook for augury to the stars and heavenly host--I am an earthly reptile,and consider but the things connected with my vocation. But methinksthere is a lack of that earnest and precise attention on your Majestywhich men show to a welcome guest of a degree so far above them. TheDuke tonight pleaded weariness, and saw your Majesty not farther thanto the street, leaving to the officers of his household the taskof conveying you to your lodgings. The rooms here are hastily andcarelessly fitted up--the tapestry is hung up awry--and, in one of thepieces, as you may observe, the figures are reversed and stand on theirheads, while the trees grow with their roots uppermost."
"Pshaw! accident, and the effect of hurry," said the King. "When did youever know me concerned about such trifles as these?"
"Not on their own account are they worth notice," said Oliver; "butas intimating the degree of esteem in which the officers of the Duke'shousehold observe your Grace to be held by him. Believe me, that, hadhis desire seemed sincere that your reception should be in all pointsmarked by scrupulous attention, the zeal of his people would have mademinutes do the work of days.--And when," he added, pointing to thebasin and ewer, "was the furniture of your Majesty's toilette of othersubstance than silver?"
"Nay," said the King, with a constrained smile, "that last remark uponthe shaving utensils, Oliver, is too much in the style of thine ownpeculiar occupation to be combated by any one.--True it is, that when Iwas only a refugee, and an exile, I was served upon gold plate by orderof the same Charles, who accounted silver too mean for the Dauphin,though he seems to hold that metal too rich for the King of France.Well, Oliver, we will to bed.--Our resolution has been made andexecuted; there is nothing to be done, but to play manfully the gameon which we have entered. I know that my cousin of Burgundy, like otherwild bulls, shuts his eyes when he begins his career. I have but towatch that moment, like one of the tauridors [Spanish bull fighters]whom we saw at Burgos, and his impetuosity places him at my mercy."