CHAPTER II.
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE'S BEDCHAMBER.
The Duc de Guise escorted his sister-in-law, the Duchess de Nevers, toher hotel in the Rue du Chaume, facing the Rue de Brac, and after he hadput her into the hands of her women, he went to his own apartment tochange his dress, put on a night cloak, and armed himself with one ofthose short, keen poniards which are called "_foi de gentilhomme_," andwere worn without swords; but as he took it off the table on which itlay, he perceived a small billet between the blade and the scabbard.
He opened it, and read as follows:
"_I hope M. de Guise will not return to the Louvre to-night; or if hedoes, that he will at least take the precaution to arm himself with agood coat of mail and a proved sword._"
"Aha!" said the duke, addressing his valet, "this is a singular warning,Maitre Robin. Now be kind enough to tell me who has been here during myabsence."
"Only one person, monseigneur."
"Who?"
"Monsieur du Gast."
"Aha! In fact, methinks I recognize the handwriting. And you are surethat Du Gast came? You saw him?"
"More than that, monseigneur; I spoke with him."
"Very good; then I will follow his advice--my steel jacket and mysword."
The valet, accustomed to these changes of costume, brought both. Theduke put on his jacket, which was made of rings of steel so fine that itwas scarcely thicker than velvet; he then drew on over his coat of mailhis small clothes and a doublet of gray and silver, his favorite colors,put on a pair of long boots which reached to the middle of his thighs,covered his head with a velvet toque unadorned with feathers or preciousstones, threw over his shoulders a dark-colored cloak, hung a dagger byhis side, handed his sword to a page, the only attendant he allowed toaccompany him, and took the way to the Louvre.
As he went down the steps of the hotel, the watchman of Saint Germainl'Auxerrois had just announced one o'clock in the morning.
Though the night was far gone and the streets at this time were very farfrom safe, no accident befell the adventurous prince on the way, andsafe and sound he approached the colossal mass of the ancient Louvre,all the lights of which had been extinguished one after the other, sothat it rose portentous in its silence and darkness.
In front of the royal chateau was a deep fosse, looking into which werethe chambers of most of the princes who inhabited the palace.Marguerite's apartment was on the first floor. But this first floor,easily accessible but for the fosse, was, in consequence of the depth towhich that was cut, thirty feet from the bottom of the wall, andconsequently out of the reach of robbers or lovers; nevertheless the Ducde Guise approached it without hesitation.
At the same moment was heard the noise of a window which opened on theground floor. This window was grated, but a hand appeared, lifted outone of the bars which had been loosened, and dropped from it a silkenlace.
"Is that you, Gillonne?" said the duke, in a low voice.
"Yes, monseigneur," replied a woman's voice, in a still lower tone.
"And Marguerite?"
"Is waiting for you."
"'T is well."
Hereupon the duke made a signal to his page, who, opening his cloak,took out a small rope ladder. The prince fastened one end to the silklace, and Gillonne, drawing it up, tied it securely. Then the prince,after having buckled his sword to his belt, ascended without accident.When he had entered, the bar was replaced and the window closed, whilethe page, having seen his master quietly enter the Louvre, to thewindows of which he had accompanied him twenty times in the same way,laid himself down in his cloak on the grass of the fosse, beneath theshadow of the wall.
The night was extremely dark, and large drops of warm rain were fallingfrom the heavy clouds charged with electric fluid.
The Duc de Guise followed his guide, who was no other than the daughterof Jacques de Matignon, marechal of France. She was the especialconfidante of Marguerite, who kept no secret from her; and it was saidthat among the number of mysteries entrusted to her incorruptiblefidelity, there were some so terrible as to compel her to keep therest.
There was no light left either in the low rooms or in the corridors,only from time to time a livid glare illuminated the dark apartmentswith a vivid flash, which as instantly disappeared.
The duke, still guided by his conductress, who held his hand, reached astaircase built in the thick wall, and opening by a secret and invisibledoor into the antechamber of Marguerite's apartment.
In this antechamber, which like all the other lower rooms was perfectlydark, Gillonne stopped.
"Have you brought what the queen requested?" she inquired, in a lowvoice.
"Yes," replied the Duc de Guise; "but I will give it only to her majestyin person."
"Come, then, and do not lose an instant!" said a voice from thedarkness, which made the duke start, for he recognized it asMarguerite's.
At the same moment a curtain of violet velvet covered with goldenfleurs-de-lis was raised, and the duke made out the form of the queen,who in her impatience had come to meet him.
"I am here, madame," he then said; and he passed the curtain, which fellbehind him. So Marguerite de Valois herself now became the prince'sguide, leading him into the room which, however, he knew already, whileGillonne, standing at the door, had raised her finger to her lips andreassured her royal mistress.
As if she understood the duke's jealous apprehensions, Marguerite ledhim to the bedchamber, and there paused.
"Well," she said, "are you satisfied, duke?"
"Satisfied, madame?" was the reply, "and with what?"
"Of the proof I give you," retorted Marguerite, with a slight tone ofvexation in her voice, "that I belong to a man who, on the very night ofhis marriage, makes me of such small importance that he does not evencome to thank me for the honor I have done him, not in selecting, but inaccepting him for my husband."
"Oh! madame," said the duke, sorrowfully, "be assured he will come ifyou desire it."
"And do you say that, Henry?" cried Marguerite; "you, who better thanany know the contrary of what you say? If I had that desire, should Ihave asked you to come to the Louvre?"
"You have asked me to come to the Louvre, Marguerite, because you areanxious to destroy every vestige of our past, and because that pastlives not only in my memory, but in this silver casket which I bring toyou."
"Henry, shall I say one thing to you?" replied Marguerite, gazingearnestly at the duke; "it is that you are more like a schoolboy than aprince. I deny that I have loved you! I desire to quench a flame whichwill die, perhaps, but the reflection of which will never die! For theloves of persons of my rank illumine and frequently devour the wholeepoch contemporary with them. No, no, duke; you may keep the letters ofyour Marguerite, and the casket she has given you. She asks but one ofthese letters, and that only because it is as dangerous for you as forherself."
"It is all yours," said the duke. "Take the one that you wish todestroy."
Marguerite searched anxiously in the open casket, and with a tremuloushand took, one after the other, a dozen letters, only the addresses ofwhich she examined, as if by merely glancing at these she could recallto her memory what the letters themselves contained; but after a closescrutiny she looked at the duke, pale and agitated.
"Sir," she said, "what I seek is not here. Can you have lost it, by anyaccident? for if it should fall into the hands of"--
"What letter do you seek, madame?"
"That in which I told you to marry without delay."
"As an excuse for your infidelity?"
Marguerite shrugged her shoulders.
"No; but to save your life. The one in which I told you that the king,seeing our love and my exertions to break off your proposed marriagewith the Infanta of Portugal, had sent for his brother, the Bastard ofAngouleme, and said to him, pointing to two swords, '_With this slayHenry de Guise this night, or with the other I will slay thee in themorning._' Where is that letter?"
"Here," said the duke, drawin
g it from his breast.
Marguerite almost snatched it from his hands, opened it anxiously,assured herself that it was really the one she desired, uttered anexclamation of joy, and applying the lighted candle to it, the flamesinstantly consumed the paper; then, as if Marguerite feared that herimprudent words might be read in the very ashes, she trampled them underfoot.
During all this the Duc de Guise had watched his mistress attentively.
"Well, Marguerite," he said, when she had finished, "are you satisfiednow?"
"Yes, for now that you have wedded the Princesse de Porcian, my brotherwill forgive me your love; while he would never have pardoned me forrevealing a secret such as that which in my weakness for you I had notthe strength to conceal from you."
"True," replied De Guise, "then you loved me."
"And I love you still, Henry, as much--more than ever!"
"You"--
"I do; for never more than at this moment did I need a sincere anddevoted friend. Queen, I have no throne; wife, I have no husband!"
The young prince shook his head sorrowfully.
"I tell you, I repeat to you, Henri, that my husband not only does notlove me, but hates--despises me; indeed, it seems to me that yourpresence in the chamber in which he ought to be is proof of this hatred,this contempt."
"It is not yet late, Madame, and the King of Navarre requires time todismiss his gentlemen; if he has not already come, he will come soon."
"And I tell you," cried Marguerite, with increasing vexation,--"I tellyou that he will not come!"
"Madame!" exclaimed Gillonne, suddenly entering, "the King of Navarre isjust leaving his apartments!"
"Oh, I knew he would come!" exclaimed the Duc de Guise.
"Henri," said Marguerite, in a quick tone, and seizing the duke'shand,--"Henri, you shall see if I am a woman of my word, and if I may berelied on. Henri, enter that closet."
"Madame, allow me to go while there is yet time, for reflect that thefirst mark of love you bestow on him, I shall quit the cabinet, and thenwoe to him!"
"Are you mad? Go in--go in, I say, and I will be responsible for all;"and she pushed the duke into the closet.
It was time. The door was scarcely closed behind the prince when theKing of Navarre, escorted by two pages, who carried eight torches ofyellow wax in two candelabra, appeared, smiling, on the threshold of thechamber. Marguerite concealed her trouble, and made a low bow.
"You are not yet in bed, Madame," observed the Bearnais, with his frankand joyous look. "Were you by chance waiting for me?"
"No, Monsieur," replied Marguerite; "for yesterday you repeated to methat our marriage was a political alliance, and that you would neverthwart my wishes."
"Assuredly; but that is no reason why we should not confer a littletogether. Gillonne, close the door, and leave us."
Marguerite, who was sitting, then rose and extended her hand, as if todesire the pages to remain.
"Must I call your women?" inquired the king. "I will do so if such beyour desire, although I confess that for what I have to say to you Ishould prefer our being alone;" and the King of Navarre advanced towardsthe closet.
"No!" exclaimed Marguerite, hastily going before him,--"no! there is nooccasion for that; I am ready to hear you."
The Bearnais had learned what he desired to know; he threw a rapid andpenetrating glance towards the cabinet, as if in spite of the thickcurtain which hung before it, he would dive into its obscurity, andthen, turning his looks to his lovely wife, pale with terror, he saidwith the utmost composure, "In that case, Madame, let us confer for afew moments."
"As your Majesty pleases," said the young wife, falling into, ratherthan sitting upon the seat which her husband pointed out to her.
The Bearnais placed himself beside her. "Madame," he continued,"whatever many persons may have said, I think our marriage is a goodmarriage. I stand well with you; you stand well with me."
"But--" said Marguerite, alarmed.
"Consequently, we ought," observed the King of Navarre, without seemingto notice Marguerite's hesitation, "to act towards each other like goodallies, since we have to-day sworn alliance in the presence of God.Don't you think so?"
"Unquestionably, Monsieur."
"I know, Madame, how great your penetration is; I know how the ground atcourt is intersected with dangerous abysses. Now, I am young, andalthough I never injured any one, I have a great many enemies. In whichcamp, Madame, ought I to range her who bears my name, and who has vowedher affection to me at the foot of the altar?"
"Monsieur, could you think--"
"I think nothing, Madame; I hope, and I am anxious to know that my hopeis well founded. It is quite certain that our marriage is merely apretext or a snare."
Marguerite started, for perhaps the same thought had occurred to her ownmind.
"Now, then, which of the two?" continued Henri de Navarre. "The kinghates me; the Duc d'Anjou hates me; the Duc d'Alencon hates me;Catherine de Medicis hated my mother too much not to hate me."
"Oh, Monsieur, what are you saying?"
"The truth, madame," replied the king; "and in order that it may not besupposed that I am deceived as to Monsieur de Mouy's assassination andthe poisoning of my mother, I wish that some one were here who couldhear me."
"Oh, sire," replied Marguerite, with an air as calm and smiling as shecould assume, "you know very well that there is no person here but youand myself."
"It is for that very reason that I thus give vent to my thoughts; thisit is that emboldens me to declare that I am not deceived by thecaresses showered on me by the House of France or the House ofLorraine."
"Sire, sire!" exclaimed Marguerite.
"Well, what is it, _ma mie_?" inquired Henry, smiling in his turn.
"Why, sire, such remarks are very dangerous."
"Not when we are alone," observed the king. "I was saying"--
Marguerite was evidently distressed; she desired to stop every word theking uttered, but he continued, with his apparent good nature:
"I was telling you that I was threatened on all sides: threatened by theKing, threatened by the Duc d'Alencon, threatened by the Duc d'Anjou,threatened by the queen mother, threatened by the Duc de Guise, by theDuc de Mayenne, by the Cardinal de Lorraine--threatened, in fact, byevery one. One feels that instinctively, as you know, madame. Well,against all these threats, which must soon become attacks, I can defendmyself by your aid, for you are beloved by all the persons who detestme."
"I?" said Marguerite.
"Yes, you," replied Henry, with the utmost ease of manner; "yes, you arebeloved by King Charles, you are beloved" (he laid strong emphasis onthe word) "by the Duc d'Alencon, you are beloved by Queen Catharine, andyou are beloved by the Duc de Guise."
"Sire!" murmured Marguerite.
"Yes; and what is there astonishing in the fact that every one lovesyou? All I have mentioned are your brothers or relatives. To love one'sbrothers and relatives is to live according to God's heart."
"But what, then," asked Marguerite, greatly overcome, "what do youmean?"
"What I have just said, that if you will be--I do not mean my love--butmy ally, I can brave everything; while, on the other hand, if you becomemy enemy, I am lost."
"Oh, your enemy!--never, sir!" exclaimed Marguerite.
"And my love--never either?"
"Perhaps"--
"And my ally?"
"Most decidedly."
And Marguerite turned round and offered her hand to the king.
Henry took it, kissed it gallantly, and retaining it in his own, morefrom a desire of investigation than from any sentiment of tenderness,said:
"Very well, I believe you, madame, and accept the alliance. They marriedus without our knowing each other--without our loving each other; theymarried us without consulting us--us whom they united. We therefore owenothing to each other as man and wife; you see that I even go beyondyour wishes and confirm this evening what I said to you yesterday; butwe ally ourselves freely and without
any compulsion. We ally ourselves,as two loyal hearts who owe each other mutual protection should allythemselves; 't is as such you understand it?"
"Yes, sir," said Marguerite, endeavoring to withdraw her hand.
"Well, then," continued the Bearnais, with his eyes fastened on the doorof the cabinet, "as the first proof of a frank alliance is the mostperfect confidence, I will now relate to you, madame, in all itsdetails, the plan I have formed in order that we may victoriously meetand overcome all these enmities."
"Sire"--said Marguerite, in spite of herself turning her eyes toward thecloset, whilst the Bearnais, seeing his trick succeed, laughed in hissleeve.
"This is what I mean to do," he continued, without appearing to remarkhis young wife's nervousness, "I intend"--
"Sire," said Marguerite, rising hastily, and seizing the king's arm,"allow me a little breath; my emotion--the heat--overpowers me."
And, in truth, Marguerite was as pale and trembling as if she was aboutto fall on the carpet.
Henry went straight to a window some distance off, and opened it. Thiswindow looked out on the river.
Marguerite followed him.
"Silence, sire,--silence, for your own sake!" she murmured.
"What, madame," said the Bearnais, with his peculiar smile, "did you nottell me we were alone?"
"Yes, sire; but did you not hear me say that by the aid of a tubeintroduced into the ceiling or the wall everything could be heard?"
"Well, madame, well," said the Bearnais, earnestly and in a low voice,"it is true you do not love me, but you are, at least, honorable."
"What do you mean, sire?"
"I mean that if you were capable of betraying me, you would have allowedme to go on, as I was betraying myself. You stopped me--I now know thatsome one is concealed here--that you are an unfaithful wife, but afaithful ally; and just now, I confess, I have more need of fidelity inpolitics than in love."
"Sire!" replied Marguerite, confused.
"Good, good; we will talk of this hereafter," said Henry, "when we knoweach other better."
Then, raising his voice--"Well," he continued, "do you breathe morefreely now, madame?"
"Yes, sire,--yes!"
"Well, then," said the Bearnais, "I will no longer intrude on you. Iowed you my respects, and some advances toward better acquaintance;deign, then, to accept them, as they are offered, with all my heart.Good-night, and happy slumbers!"
Marguerite raised her eyes, shining with gratitude, and offered herhusband her hand.
"It is agreed," she said.
"Political alliance, frank and loyal?" asked Henry.
"Frank and loyal," was the reply.
And the Bearnais went toward the door, followed by Marguerite's look asif she were fascinated. Then, when the curtain had fallen between themand the bedchamber:
"Thanks, Marguerite," he said, in a quick low tone, "thanks! You are atrue daughter of France. I leave you quite tranquil: lacking your love,your friendship will not fail me. I rely on you, as you, on your side,may rely on me. Adieu, madame."
And Henry kissed his wife's hand, and pressed it gently. Then with aquick step he returned to his own apartment, saying to himself, in a lowvoice, in the corridor:
"Who the devil is with her? Is it the King, or the Duc d'Anjou, or theDuc d'Alencon, or the Duc de Guise? is it a brother or a lover? is itboth? I' faith, I am almost sorry now I asked the baroness for thisrendezvous; but, as my word is pledged, and Dariole is waiting forme--no matter. Yet, _ventre saint gris_! this Margot, as mybrother-in-law, King Charles, calls her, is an adorable creature."
And with a step which betrayed a slight hesitation, Henry of Navarreascended the staircase which led to Madame de Sauve's apartments.
Marguerite had followed him with her eyes until he disappeared. Thenshe returned to her chamber, and found the duke at the door of thecabinet. The sight of him almost touched her with remorse.
The duke was grave, and his knitted brow bespoke bitter reflection.
"Marguerite is neutral to-day," he said; "in a week Marguerite will behostile."
"Ah! you have been listening?" said Marguerite.
"What else could I do in the cabinet?"
"And did you find that I behaved otherwise than the Queen of Navarreshould behave?"
"No; but differently from the way in which the mistress of the Duc deGuise should behave."
"Sir," replied the queen, "I may not love my husband, but no one has theright to require me to betray him. Tell me honestly: would you revealthe secrets of the Princesse de Porcian, your wife?"
"Come, come, madame," answered the duke, shaking his head, "this is verywell; I see that you do not love me as in those days when you disclosedto me the plot of the King against me and my party."
"The King was strong and you were weak; Henry is weak and you arestrong. You see I always play a consistent part."
"Only you pass from one camp to another."
"That was a right I acquired, sir, in saving your life."
"Good, madame; and as when lovers separate, they return all the giftsthat have passed between them, I will save your life, in my turn, ifever the need arises, and we shall be quits."
And the duke bowed and left the room, nor did Marguerite attempt toretain him.
In the antechamber he found Gillonne, who guided him to the window onthe ground floor, and in the fosse he found his page, with whom hereturned to the Hotel de Guise.
Marguerite, in a dreamy mood, went to the opened window.
"What a marriage night!" she murmured to herself; "the husband fleesfrom me--the lover forsakes me!"
At that moment, coming from the Tour de Bois, and going up toward theMoulin de la Monnaie, on the other side of the fosse passed a student,his hand on his hip, and singing:
"SONG.
"Tell me why, O maiden fair, When I burn to bite thy hair, And to kiss thy rosy lips, And to touch thy lovely breast, Like a nun thou feign'st thee blest In the cloister's sad eclipse?
"Who will win the precious prize Of thy brow, thy mouth, thine eyes-- Of thy bosom sweet--what lover? Wilt thou all thy charms devote To grim Pluton when the boat Charon rows shall take thee over?
"After thou hast sailed across, Loveliest, then wilt find but loss-- All thy beauty will decay. When I die and meet thee there In the shades I'll never swear Thou wert once my mistress gay!
"Therefore, darling, while we live, Change thy mind and tokens give-- Kisses from thy honey mouth! Else when thou art like to die Thou 'lt repent thy cruelty, Filling all my life with drouth!"
Marguerite listened with a melancholy smile; then when the student'svoice was lost in the distance, she shut the window, and called Gillonneto help her to prepare for bed.
La reine Margot. English Page 3