La Dame de Monsoreau (10 page)

Gaspard promised, with a smile, to execute the orders, which the young woman heard with a blush.

Saint-Luc took his wife's hand, kissed it tenderly, then hurried to the room of the King, who was growing impatient.

Jeanne, alone, and trembling with terror, crouched behind the ample curtains of the bed, and there, at once anxious and wrathful, she, too, was planning how to escape successfully from her present strange situation, twirling an air-cane she had in her hand.

When Saint-Luc entered the King's room he inhaled the pungent, voluptuous perfume which filled the royal apartment. In fact, Henri's feet were planted on a heap of flowers, the stalks of which had been cut off, for fear they might irritate his Majesty's delicate skin: roses, jasmines, violets, gillyflowers, in spite of the rigor of the season, formed a soft, odorous carpet for King Henri.

The chamber, whose ceiling had been lowered and decorated with fine paintings, was, as we have said, supplied with two beds, one of which was so wide that, although its head rested against the wall, it occupied nearly two-thirds of the room.

This bed was hung with gold and silken tapestry representing mythological characters, the subject being the story of Ceneus, or Cenis, at one time a man, at another a woman, which metamorphosis was not effected, it may well be imagined, without the most fantastic efforts on the part of the artist's imagination. The canopy was of cloth of silver, worked with gold and figures in silk, and the royal arms, richly embroidered, hung immediately above the head of the bed.

There were the same kind of hangings on the windows as on

the beds, and the sofas and chairs were covered with similar material. A silver-gilt lamp was suspended from the ceiling by a golden chain, and the oil in this lamp shed a delicious perfume as it burned. On the right of the bedstead, a satyr in gold held in his hand a candelabrum with four rose-colored tampers, also perfumed. These tapers, as long as church candles, were sufficient, with the lamp, to illuminate the apartment.

The King, with his feet resting on the flowers that covered the floor, was seated in an ebony chair inlaid with gold. He had seven or eight spaniel puppies in his lap ; they were very young, and were licking his hands. Two servants were curling and dressing his hair, which was tucked up like a woman's, his hooked mustaches, and his thin, filmy beard. A third was daubing the prince's face with an unctuous layer of rose-colored cream that had a very pleasant smell.

Henri had his eyes closed, allowing himself to be operated on with all the majestic gravity of an Indian god.

" Saint-Luc ! " said he, " where is Saint-Luc ? "

Saint-Luc entered. Chicot took him by the hand and led him before the King.

" Now," said he, " here he is, your friend Saint-Luc. Order his face to be washed, or rather varnished, with your cream ; if you don't take this indispensable precaution, something awful is sure to happen ; he will smell bad to you, who smell so good, or you will smell too good to him, who does n't smell at all. By the way," added Chicot, stretching out his hands, " I think I '11 have a try at these greases and combs myself."

" Chicot ! Chicot ! " cried Henri, " your skin is too dry and would absorb too great a quantity of my cream; I have hardly enough for myself ; and your hair is so rough it would break my combs."

" My skin has got dried up in fighting the battles of an ingrate prince, and, if my hair is rough, it is because it has got into the habit of bristling up at your continual indiscretions. Well, if you refuse me the cream for my cheeks, that is to say, for my exterior, all right, my son, that's all I have to say."

Henri shrugged his shoulder, not at all inclined to be amused at the quips of his jester.

" Leave me, you are beginning to dote," said he.

Then, turning to Saint-Luc :

" Well, my son," he asked, " how is your head ? "

Saint-Luc clapped his hand on his forehead and uttered a groan.

" Only fancy," continued Henri, " I have seen Bussy d'Amboise — A-a-h ! monsieur,' 7 said he, turning to the hairdresser, " you are burning me."

The hair-dresser fell on his knees.

" You saw Bussy d'Amboise, sire ? " inquired Saint-Luc, shivering.

u Yes," answered the King ; " just think of it! these idiots — five of them together — attacked him, and they failed. I will have them broken alive on the wheel. If you had been there, Saint-Luc! Eh?"

" Sire, " returned Saint-Luc, " it is probable I should not have been luckier than my comrades."

" Don't talk nonsense. I would wager a thousand crowns of gold you 'd touch Bussy ten times for every six he 'd touch you. Pardieu! we must look to this to-morrow. Do you fence still, my child ? "

" Why, of course, sire."

" I mean, do you practise often ? "

" Almost every day when I am in good health; but when I am ill, sire, I am absolutely good for nothing."

"How often have you touched me ?"

" We used to be pretty evenly matched, sire."

" Yes, but I fence better than Bussy. God's death, man," said Henri, turning to the barber, " you are tearing out my mustache ! "

The barber fell on his knees.

" Sire," said Saint-Luc, " do you know any remedy for heart disease ? "

" Eat plenty."

" Oh, sire, I believe you are mistaken."

" By no means, I assure you."

" You are right, Valois," said Chicot, " and as I have heart disease, or, maybe, stomach disease, — I am not quite sure which, — I have been following your prescription."

And a singular noise was heard, like the rapid crunching of a monkey's jaws.

The King turned round and beheld Chicot, who, after devouring the supper for two which he had ordered in the King's name, was noisily exercising his mandibles, while swallowing the contents of a cup of Japan porcelain.

" Upon my word ! " exclaimed Henri. " And pray what the devil are yon doing there, Monsieur Chicot ? "

"Taking my cream interiorly, since, exteriorly, you have forbidden it."

" Ha ! traitor," said Henri, half jerking his head round in such untoward fashion that the pasty finger of his valet filled the King's mouth with cream.

" Eat, my son," said Chicot gravely. " I 'in not so tyrannical as thou art ; thou 'rt permitted by me to use it interiorly or exteriorly."

" Monsieur, you are choking me," said Henri to the valet.

The valet fell on his knees, as the hair-dresser and barber had done before him.

" Some one send for the captain of the guards ; some one go for him this instant! " cried Henri.

" And why for the captain of your guards ?" inquired Chicot, passing his finger inside his cup and then inside his lips.

" To pass his sword through Chicot's body, and then, skinny as it is, to have it roasted for my dogs."

Chicot drew himself up to his full height:

" God's death ! " cried he, " Chicot for your dogs ! A man of gentle birth for your beasts ! Well, then, let him come on, this captain of the guards of yours, and we '11 see ! "

And Chicot drew his long sword, with which he cut and thrust so comically, now at the hair-dresser, now at the barber, now at the valet, that the King had to laugh.

" But I am hungry," he said at length, in a lachrymose voice, " and the rascal has eaten up the whole supper himself."

" Thou 'rt fantastical, Henri," said Chicot. « Did I not offer to share my supper and you refused ? In any case, your soup is to the good; and, as I am no longer hungry, I 'in off to bed."

During this time, old Gaspard had brought the key to his master.

" And I, too," said Saint-Luc ; " for if I remained longer up, I should be sure to fail in the respect I owe- my sovereign, by having one of my nervous attacks in his presence. I am shivering as it is."

" A moment, Saint-Luc," said the King, giving him a handful of little puppies ; " here, take them with you."

" Why ? "

" To sleep with you. They will catch your disease, and you '11 be freed from it."

" Thanks, sire," said Saint-Luc, putting them back in the basket, " I have no confidence in your prescription."

" I will visit you to-night, Saint-Luc," said the King.

" Oh, do not come near me, I entreat you, sire," said Saint-Luc. " You would be sure to startle me out of my sleep, and that, as I have been told, brings on epilepsy."

And, after saluting the King, he passed out of the room.

Chicot had disappeared already.

Two or three others also left, and there remained with the King only the valets, who covered his face with a mask of fine cloth plastered with perfumed cream, in which were holes for the nose, eyes, and mouth. A cap of silk and silver fixed it on the forehead and over the ears.

Next they covered his arms with sleeves of rose-colored satin, well lined with wadded silk, and presented him with gloves made of a skin so supple that one might think them knitted. These gloves came up to the elbows, and were oiled inside with a perfumed unguent that gave them the elasticity so puzzling to those who saw only the exterior.

These mysteries of the toilet ended, he was presented with his soup in a golden cup ; but, before bearing it to his lips, he poured half into another cup, in every respect like his own, and ordered it to be conveyed to Saint-Luc, with a message wishing him a good night's rest.

It was then God's turn, who, doubtless, on account of the King's great preoccupation, was treated rather jauntily. Henri said only a single prayer, and did not touch his beads at all, and, his bed having been warmed with coriander, benzoin, and cinnamon, he lay down.

Then, when he had arranged his head comfortably on the numerous pillows, Henri ordered the flowers, which were making the air too heavy, taken away. The windows were opened for a few seconds, to renew the carbon-laden atmosphere. Next, a big fire was suddenly lit in the marble chimney, and as quickly extinguished, but not until it had diffused a gentle warmth through the apartment.

After this the valet let down the curtains and hangings, and introduced the King's favorite dog, Narcisse, which jumped on the bed, turned round, and stretched itself crosswise at the feet of its master.

At last the rose-colored tapers burning in the hands of the golden satyr were blown out, the light of the night-lamp was lowered by the substitution of a smaller wick, and the valet, to whom were intrusted all these details, stole softly out of the room.

And now, more tranquil, more careless and oblivious than the idle monks of his kingdom buried in their fat abbeys, France's King no longer had to give himself the trouble of thinking that there was a France.

He slept.

Half an hour later, the people who watched in the galleries, and who, from their different stations, could distinguish the windows of Henri's chamber, saw through the curtains the royal lamp suddenly go out and the soft rose light which colored the windows replaced by the silvery rays of the moon, and they thought that now his Majesty must assuredly be asleep.

At this moment all sounds had died away, both within and without the palace, and one might have heard a bat fly in the sombre corridors of the Louvre.

CHAPTER VII.

HOW THE KING WAS CONVERTED IN THE NIGHT, AND NO ONE KNEW WHY.

Two hours passed thus.

Suddenly there resounded a terrible cry. This cry came from his Majesty's chamber.

Yet the night-lamp was still unlit, the silence was still profound, and no sound was heard except this strange call of the King.

For it was the King who had cried.

Soon was heard the noise of furniture falling, of porcelain breaking, footsteps hurrying wildly about the room ; then renewed cries mingled with the barking of dogs. At once, lights gleamed, swords flashed in the galleries, and the heavy steps of the sleepy guards shook the massive pillars of the palace.

" To arms ! " was shouted on all sides. " To arms ! The King calls ; let us run to the King."

And, that very instant, the captain of the guards, the colonel

of the Swiss, the servants of the Chateau, the arquebusiers on duty, dashed forward and rushed into the royal chamber, which was immediately inundated with a flood of light: twenty torches illuminated the scene.

Near an overturned chair and shattered cups, near the bed, whose coverings were scattered about the floor, stood Henri, at once grotesque and frightful in his night-robe, his hair on end, his eyes staring fixedly.

His right hand was extended, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

His left clutched the hilt of his sword, which he had grasped mechanically.

The dog, as excited as its master, was looking at him and howling.

The King seemed fairly dumb with terror, and all present, not daring to break the silence, questioning one another's eyes, waited in a condition of dreadful anxiety.

Then appeared, half-dressed, wrapped up in a large mantle, the young Queen, Louise de Lorraine, a fair, sweet being, who lived the life of a saint on earth, and who had been awakened by her husband's cries.

" Sire," said she, even more agitated than the others, " in God's name what is the matter ? Your cries reached me and I have come." •

'"It — it — is nothing," stammered the King, without moving his eyes, which seemed to be glaring on some vague form in the air, invisible to all but him.

" But your Majesty cried," answered the Queen. " Is your Majesty, then, ill ? "

The terror painted on Henri's features gradually affected all those present. They recoiled, advanced, devoured the King with their eyes, anxious to discover if he were wounded or had been struck by lightning or bitten by some reptile.

" Oh, sire, for Heaven's sake leave us not in this uncertainty ! " cried the Queen. " Would you have a doctor ? "