Part 16 (1/2)
”Well, then, really, what is best to be done, mother?” he asked, ”for above all I am just, and I would have every one satisfied with me.”
Catharine turned toward him.
”Come, count,” she said to Tavannes, who was caressing the King's shrike, ”tell the King your opinion as to what should be done.”
”Will your Majesty permit me?” inquired the count.
”Speak, Tavannes!--speak.”
”What does your Majesty do when, in the chase, the wounded boar turns on you?”
”By Heaven! monsieur, I wait for him, with firm foot,” replied Charles, ”and stab him in the throat with my boar-spear.”
”Simply that he may not hurt you,” remarked Catharine.
”And to amuse myself,” said the King, with a sigh which indicated courage easily aroused even to ferocity; ”but I should not amuse myself killing my subjects; for, after all, the Huguenots are my subjects, as well as the Catholics.”
”Then, sire,” said Catharine, ”your subjects, the Huguenots, will do like the wild boar who escapes the spear thrust into his throat: they will bring down the throne.”
”Nonsense! Do you really think so, madame?” said Charles IX., with an air which denoted that he did not place great faith in his mother's predictions.
”But have you not seen M. de Mouy and his party to-day?”
”Yes; I have seen them, for I have just left them. But what does he ask for that is not just? He has requested that his father's murderer and the admiral's a.s.sa.s.sin be put to death. Did we not punish M. de Montgommery for the death of my father and your husband, although that death was a simple accident?”
”Very well, sire,” said Catharine, piqued, ”let us say no more. Your majesty is under the protection of that G.o.d who gives you strength, wisdom, and confidence. But I, a poor woman whom G.o.d abandons, no doubt on account of my sins, fear and yield.”
And having said this, Catharine again courteseyed and left the room, making a sign to the Duc de Guise, who had at that moment entered, to remain in her place, and try a last effort.
Charles IX. followed his mother with his eye, but this time did not recall her. He then began to caress his dogs, whistling a hunting-air.
He suddenly paused.
”My mother,” said he, ”is a royal spirit, and has scruples! Really, now, it is a cool proposal, to kill off some dozens of Huguenots because they come to demand justice! Is it not their right?”
”Some dozens!” murmured the Duc de Guise.
”Ah! are you here, sir?” said the King, pretending to see him for the first time. ”Yes, some dozens. A tolerable waste of life! Ah! if any one came to me and said; 'Sire, you shall be rid of all your enemies at once, and to-morrow there shall not remain one to reproach you with the death of the others,' why, then, I do not say”--
”Well, sire?”
”Tavannes,” said the King, ”you will tire Margot; put her back on her perch. It is no reason, because she bears the name of my sister, the Queen of Navarre, that every one should caress her.”
Tavannes put the hawk on her perch, and amused himself by curling and uncurling a greyhound's ears.
”But, sire, if any one should say to your Majesty: 'Sire, your Majesty shall be delivered from all your enemies to-morrow'?”
”And by the intercession of what saint would this miracle be wrought?”