Part 35 (1/2)
”Well,” said the King, folding his arms, and looking at him with an air of triumph and reproach, ”I ask you who are these people? Is it in such a circle that you ought to be seen?”
Cinq-Mars was confounded at this observation, which hurt his self-pride, and, approaching the King, he said:
”You are right, Sire; but there can be no harm in pa.s.sing an hour or two in listening to good conversation. Besides, many courtiers go there, such as the Duc de Bouillon, Monsieur d'Aubijoux, the Comte de Brion, the Cardinal de la Vallette, Messieurs de Montresor, Fontrailles; men ill.u.s.trious in the sciences, as Mairet, Colletet, Desmarets, author of Araine; Faret, Doujat, Charpentier, who wrote the Cyropedie; Giry, Besons, and Baro, the continuer of Astree--all academicians.”
”Ah! now, indeed, here are men of real merit,” said Louis; ”there is nothing to be said against them. One can not but gain from their society. Theirs are settled reputations; they're men of weight. Come, let us make up; shake hands, child. I permit you to go there sometimes, but do not deceive me any more; you see I know all. Look at this.”
So saying, the King took from a great iron chest set against the wall enormous packets of paper scribbled over with very fine writing. Upon one was written, Baradas, upon another, D'Hautefort, upon a third, La Fayette, and finally, Cinq-Mars. He stopped at the latter, and continued:
”See how many times you have deceived me! These are the continual faults of which I have myself kept a register during the two years I have known you; I have written out our conversations day by day. Sit down.”
Cinq-Mars obeyed with a sigh, and had the patience for two long hours to listen to a summary of what his master had had the patience to write during the course of two years. He yawned many times during the reading, as no doubt we should all do, were it needful to report this dialogue, which was found in perfect order, with his will, at the death of the King. We shall only say that he finished thus:
”In fine, hear what you did on the seventh of December, three days ago.
I was speaking to you of the flight of the hawk, and of the knowledge of hunting, in which you are deficient. I said to you, on the authority of La Cha.s.se Royale, a work of King Charles IX, that after the hunter has accustomed his dog to follow a beast, he must consider him as of himself desirous of returning to the wood, and the dog must not be rebuked or struck in order to make him follow the track well; and that in order to teach a dog to set well, creatures that are not game must not be allowed to pa.s.s or run, nor must any scents be missed, without putting his nose to them.
”Hear what you replied to me (and in a tone of ill-humor--mind that!) 'Ma foi! Sire, give me rather regiments to conduct than birds and dogs.
I am sure that people would laugh at you and me if they knew how we occupy ourselves.' And on the eighth--wait, yes, on the eighth--while we were singing vespers together in my chambers, you threw your book angrily into the fire, which was an impiety; and afterward you told me that you had let it drop--a sin, a mortal sin. See, I have written below, lie, underlined. People never deceive me, I a.s.sure you.”
”But, Sire--”
”Wait a moment! wait a moment! In the evening you told me the Cardinal had burned a man unjustly, and out of personal hatred.”
”And I repeat it, and maintain it, and will prove it, Sire. It is the greatest crime of all of that man whom you hesitate to disgrace, and who renders you unhappy. I myself saw all, heard, all, at Loudun. Urbain Grandier was a.s.sa.s.sinated, rather than tried. Hold, Sire, since you have there all those memoranda in your own hand, merely reperuse the proofs which I then gave you of it.”
Louis, seeking the page indicated, and going back to the journey from Perpignan to Paris, read the whole narrative with attention, exclaiming:
”What horrors! How is it that I have forgotten all this? This man fascinates me; that's certain. You are my true friend, Cinq-Mars.
What horrors! My reign will be stained by them. What! he prevented the letters of all the n.o.bility and notables of the district from reaching me! Burn, burn alive! without proofs! for revenge! A man, a people have invoked my name in vain; a family curses me! Oh, how unhappy are kings!”
And the Prince, as he concluded, threw aside his papers and wept.
”Ah, Sire, those are blessed tears that you weep!” exclaimed Cinq-Mars, with sincere admiration. ”Would that all France were here with me! She would be astonished at this spectacle, and would scarcely believe it.”
”Astonished! France, then, does not know me?”
”No, Sire,” said D'Effiat, frankly; ”no one knows you. And I myself, with the rest of the world, at times accuse you of coldness and indifference.”
”Of coldness, when I am dying with sorrow! Of coldness, when I have immolated myself to their interests! Ungrateful nation! I have sacrificed all to it, even pride, even the happiness of guiding it myself, because I feared on its account for my fluctuating life. I have given my sceptre to be borne by a man I hate, because I believed his hand to be stronger than my own. I have endured the ill he has done to myself, thinking that he did good to my people. I have hidden my own tears to dry theirs; and I see that my sacrifice has been even greater than I thought it, for they have not perceived it. They have believed me incapable because I was kind, and without power because I mistrusted my own. But, no matter! G.o.d sees and knows me!”
”Ah, Sire, show yourself to France such as you are; rea.s.sume your usurped power. France will do for your love what she would never do from fear. Return to life, and reascend the throne.”
”No, no; my life is well-nigh finished, my dear friend. I am no longer capable of the labor of supreme command.'”
”Ah, Sire, this persuasion alone destroys your vigor. It is time that men should cease to confound power with crime, and call this union genius. Let your voice be heard proclaiming to the world that the reign of virtue is about to begin with your own; and hence forth those enemies whom vice has so much difficulty in suppressing will fall before a word uttered from your heart. No one has as yet calculated all that the good faith of a king of France may do for his people--that people who are drawn so instantaneously to ward all that is good and beautiful, by their imagination and warmth of soul, and who are always ready with every kind of devotion. The King, your father, led us with a smile. What would not one of your tears do?”
During this address the King, very much surprised, frequently reddened, hemmed, and gave signs of great embarra.s.sment, as always happened when any attempt was made to bring him to a decision. He also felt the approach of a conversation of too high an order, which the timidity of his soul forbade him to venture upon; and repeatedly putting his hand to his chest, knitting his brows as if suffering violent pain, he endeavored to relieve himself by the apparent attack of illness from the embarra.s.sment of answering. But, either from pa.s.sion, or from a resolution to strike the crowning blow, Cinq-Mars went on calmly and with a solemnity that awed Louis, who, forced into his last intrenchments, at length said:
”But, Cinq-Mars, how can I rid myself of a minister who for eighteen years past has surrounded me with his creatures?”