La Dame de Monsoreau (12 page)

" Stay," said the King.

" Oh, oh ! " retorted Chicot, drawing himself up ; " this is regular tyranny. Thou 'rt a despot, a Phalaris, a Bionysius, You really make me tired. You force me to spend a whole day in mangling the shoulders of my friends, and, seemingly, you are now in the humor to begin again to-night. Plague take it, Henri, don't let us begin it again ! There are only two of us here; and, when there are only two, every stroke tells !"

" Hush, you wretched babbler, and think of repentance," said the King.

" Ha ! now I see what you mean ; I repent. And of what, pray ? Of being the buffoon of a monk ? Confiteor — I repent. Mea culpa — through my fault, through my fault, through my very great fault! "

" No sacrilege, wretch ! " cried the King ; " no sacrilege, I say !"

" Oh, indeed ! " retorted Chicot. " I 'd rather be shut up in a den of lions or a cage of monkeys than to be in the room of a mad king. Farewell! I 'm off."

The King took the key out of the lock.

" Heiiri," said Chicot, " I warn thee that thy aspect is sinister ; and, if 1 am hindered from leaving, I will cry out, call for help, break the door, smash the windows — help ! help ! "

" Chicot, my friend," said the King, in his most melancholy tone, " you are taking advantage of my sad condition."

" Ah, I understand," returned Chicot, " you are afraid of being alone ; all tyrants are like that. Well, why can't you have a dozen chambers built, like Dionysius, or a dozen palaces, like Tiberius. Meantime, you take my long sword, and I '11 carry the scabbard with me to my room."

At the word " afraid," Henri's eyes had glared ; then, with a strange shiver, he had risen and crossed the chamber. He was so tremulous, his face was so pallid, that Chicot began to think him really ill, and, after the King had walked three or four times up and down the floor, he said, apprehensively :

" Come, come, my son, what ails you ? Tell your troubles to your own Chicot."

The King halted before the jester, and gazing at him, said :

" Yes, you are my friend, my only friend."

" Then," returned Chicot, " there is the Abbey of Valencey, which is vacant."

" Listen, Chicot," said Henri; " are you discreet ? "

" Also that of Pithiviers, where you can eat delicious lark pies."

" In spite of your buffooneries, you are a courageous man," continued the King.

" Then don't give me an abbey, give me a regiment."

" Ay, and even a prudent man."

" Then don't give me a regiment, make me a member of your privy council. But no; 1 fancy I should prefer a regiment or an abbey ; I won't be a councillor — I should always have to be of the King's opinion."

" Hush, Chicot, hush ! the hour, the terrible hour is drawing nigh."

" Oh, are you going over all that again ? " said Chicot.

" You are going to see, to hear."

" See what ? hear whom ? "

" Wait. The issue will teach you things you may wish to know. Wait."

"No, no, I have n't the slightest intention of waiting; why, what mad dog, I wonder, bit your father and mother on the fatal night you were begotten ! "

" Chicot, are you brave ? "

" I should rather say so ! But, tudiable, I don't put my bravery to the touch in this fashion. When the King of France and Poland shrieks out in the night so as to create a scandal in the Louvre, the presence of an insignificant person like myself in your apartment would dishonor it. Good-by, Henri, summon your captains, your Swiss, your doorkeepers, and let me scamper off. A plague on your invisible dangers ! I have no notion of bumping up against a peril I know nothing of! "

" I command you to remain," said the King, authoritatively.

" Well, upon my soul! — a nice .master you are to want to command a fellow that 's in a regular panic. I 'm afraid — do you hear ? I 'm afraid, I tell you. Help, help ! Fire ! "

Arid Chicot, as if to get away as far as possible from danger, jumped on the table.

" Well, you scamp," said the King, " I see I shall have to tell you everything, since that is the only way to keep your mouth shut."

" Aha ! " cried Chicot, rubbing his hands, getting off the table cautiously, and drawing his enormous sword ; " once I am warned, I don't care ; we '11 fight the matter out between us. Go on, go on, my son. Would it be a crocodile that 's after you, eh ? Don't be alarmed ; look at that blade — sharp as a razor ; I pare my corns with it once a week, and they 're tough ones, I can tell you. You said it was a crocodile, Henri, did n't you ? "

And Chicot sank back in a big chair and placed the sword between his thighs, crossing his legs over it, so that it looked not unlike the caduceus of Mercury, entwined by those symbols of peace, the serpents.

" Last night," said Henri, " I was asleep " ;—

" And I also," interrupted Chicot.

" Suddenly a breath swept over my face."

" It was that cur of yours that was hungry, 1 ' said Chicot, " and was licking the grease off your face."

" I half awoke and felt my beard bristle with terror under my mask."

" Ah ! you make me shiver deliciously," said Chicot, coiling himself in his armchair and resting his chin on the pommel of his sword.

" Then," continued the King, in tones so weak and trembling that they hardly reached Chicot's ear, — " then a voice resounded in the room with a vibration so doleful that my mind was entirely unsettled."

" The voice of the crocodile. I understand. I remember reading in Marco Polo that the crocodile has a terrible voice resembling the cry of a child; but do not be uneasy, my son ; if he come, we '11 kill him."

" Are you listening attentively ? "

" Pardieii ! am I listening ? " said Chicot, starting up as if he were on wires. " I am all ears, as still as a post and as dumb as an oyster. Go on."

Henri went on, in tones gloomier and more lugubrious than ever.

" ' Miserable sinner,' said the voice "

" Bah ! " interrupted Chicot ; " so the voice spoke ? It was not a crocodile, then ? "

" ' Miserable sinner ? said the voice, ( I am the voice of the Lord thy God ! "

Chicot took a leap and was again plump down in his armchair.

" The voice of God ? " he asked.

" Ah ! Chicot," replied Henri, " it was an awful voice."

" It was n't a sweet-toned voice, then ? something like the sound of a trumpet, as we are told in Scripture ? " inquired Chicot.

" ' Art thou there ? Dost hear ? ' continued the voice. * Dost thou hear, 0 hardened siriher ? Art thou indeed resolved to persevere in thy iniquity ? '

" Ah, really now ! " said Chicot. " Why, upon my word, the voice of God is a little like the voice of your people, after all."

" Next," resumed the King," followed many other reproaches, which, I assure you, Chicot, hurt me very much."

" Still, let us have a little more, my son," said Chicot; "continue, tell me what the voice said; I want to know if God is a well-informed person."

" Pagan ! " cried the King, " if you doubt, I will have you punished."

" I doubt ? " said Chicot; " oh, not at all. The only thing that puzzles me is that God should have waited till now to reproach you in the style you mention. He has become very patient since the Deluge. Well, my son, you had an awful fright?"

" Awful! " answered Henri.

" There was some reason for it."

" The perspiration rolled down my temples and the marrow seemed to dry up in my bones."

" As in Jeremiah; quite natural; upon my word as a gentleman, I don't know what I should have done in your place; and then you called ? "

" Yes."

" And they came ? "

« Yes."

" And a thorough search was made ? "

" Everywhere."

" And God was not discovered ? "

" Nothing was seen."

" It 's frightful."

" So frightful that I sent for my confessor."

" Ah, good ! he came ? "

" On the instant."

" Come now, my son, do violence to yourself and try to be frank with me. What does your confessor think of this revelation ? "

"He shuddered."

" I should think he would."

" He crossed himself, and ordered me to repent as God had warned me to do."

" Very good indeed! there J s never any harm in repenting. But what did he say of the visio'n itself, or, rather, of what you heard, for you don't seem to have seen anything ? "

" He said it was providential, a miracle; that now I must think of nothing but the good of the state. And so, this morning, I have given "

" This morning you have given, my son ? "

" A hundred thousand livres to the Jesuits."

" Admirable !"

" And mangled my own flesh and that of my young lords with scourges."

« Perfect. And then ? "

" And then. Give me your opinion, Ohicot. I am not now talking to the jester, but to a sensible man who is my friend."

" Well, sire/" replied Chicot, seriously, " I believe your Majesty has had a nightmare."

" You believe, then, that"

" Your Majesty has had a dream, which will not recur unless you let your mind dwell too much upon it."

" A 'dream ? " said Henri, shaking his head. " No, no, I was wide awake, that you may be sure of, Chicot."

" You were asleep, Henri."

" I slept so little that my eyes were wide open, I tell you."

" I sleep in that way myself."

" Yes, but I saw with my eyes, and that does not really happen when we are asleep."

" And what did you see ? "

" I saw the moon shining through the windows of my chamber, and there, where you are standing, Chicot, I beheld the amethyst in the hilt of my sword glowing with a sombre light.''

" And what had become of the light in your lamp ? "

" It was extinguished."

" A dream, my poor son, a pure dream."

" Why do you not believe me, Chicot ? Is it not said that the Lord speaks to kings when he wishes to work some great change on the earth ? "

" Yes, it is true enough he speaks to them, but in so low a tone that they never hear him."

" What makes you so incredulous ? "

" Because you heard so very distinctly."

" Well, then, have you any idea why I bade you remain ? " said the King.

" Parbleu ! I have my own ideas."

" It was that you might hear for yourself what the voice may say."

" So that, if I repeat what I heard, it will be believed I am uttering some buffoonery or other. Chicot is such a paltry, insignificant, mad creature that, no matter what he says, no one will believe him. Not badly played, my son."

" Why not rather think, my friend," said the King, " that

I am confiding this secret to you because of your well-known fidelity ? "

" Ah, do not lie, Henri, for, if the voice come, it will reproach you for your mendacity, and God knows you have enough of sins to your credit already. But no matter, I accept the commission. I shall not be sorry to hear the voice of the Lord; perhaps he may have something to say to me also."

" What ought I to do, then ? "

" Go to bed, my son."

« But if " —

" No < buts.' "

« Still "

"Do you think you're likely to hinder the voice of God from speaking because you happen to be standing ? A king is taller than other men only by the height of his crown; believe me, Henri, when he is bareheaded he is the same height as other men, and sometimes an inch or two lower."

"Very well," said the King, "you stay."

" I have agreed to that already."

" Then I '11 lie down."

« Good ! "

" But you won't go to bed ? "

" Have n't the least intention."

" I '11 take off nothing but my doublet."

" Do as you like."

"I'll keep my breeches on."

" Wisely determined."

" And you ? "

" I stay where I am."

" And you will not sleep ? "

" That I can't promise. Sleep, like fear, my son, is independent of the will."

" You will, at least, do what you can ? "

"Rest easy. I'11 pinch myself; besides, the voice will rouse me up."

" Do not joke about the voice," said Henri, who drew back the leg he had already in bed.

" Oh, don't bother me," said Chicot, " or do you want me to put you to bed ? "

The King sighed, and after anxiously scrutinizing every corner of the apartment, slipped, shivering, into bed.

" Now," thought Chicot, « it 's my turn."

And he stretched his limbs out in an armchair, arranging the cushions and pillows behind and beside him.

" How do you feel, sire ? "

" Pretty fairly," said the King; " and you ? "

"Quite comfortable. Good-night, Henri."

" Good-night, Chicot, but don't sleep."

" I '11 take good heed not to," said Chicot, yawning as if he were tired to death.

And both closed their eyes, the King pretending to sleep and Chicot asleep really.

CHAPTER IX.

HOW THE VOICE OF THE LORD BLUNDERED AND TOOK CHICOT FOR THE KING.

THE King and Chicot were almost quiet and silent for about ten minutes. Suddenly the King started and sat up in bed.

Chicot, who was plunged in the sweet drowsiness that precedes sleep, was aroused by the noise and the movement, and did the same.

Both gazed wildly at each other.

" What is it ? " asked Chicot, in a low voice.

" The breath," said the King, in tones still lower, " the breath on my face."

At the same instant one of the candles, held by the golden satyr, was extinguished, then a second, then a third, then the last.