"Let's see the devil's writ.
What have we here?"
* * * * *
"First of the King. What shall of him become?"
SHAKSPEARE.
"A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon."
IDEM.
It was in the month of May 1574, and in the city of Paris, that, at an
hour of the night which in these days might be considered somewhat
early, but which at that period was already late, two personages were
seated in a gloomy room, belonging to a small and ancient hotel, at no
great distance from the old palace of the Louvre, with which it was
supposed to communicate by courts and passages little known and seldom
used.
One of these personages was a woman of middle age, whose form,
although full, was peculiarly well made, and whose delicate but well
fleshed hands were of striking beauty. The fair face was full and fat,
but very pale; the eyes were fine and dark, and the whole expression
of her physiognomy was in general calm, almost to mildness. But yet
there lurked a haughty air on that pale brow; and at times a look of
searching inquisitiveness, amounting almost to cunning, shot from
those dark eyes. Her ample dress was entirely black, and unrelieved by
any of the embroidery or ornament so much lavished upon the dress of
the higher classes at that time; a pair of long white ruffles turned
back upon the sleeve, and a large standing collar of spotless purity,
alone gave light to the dark picture of her form. Upon her head she
wore a sort of skull-cap of black velvet, descending with a sharp peak
upon her forehead--the cowl-like air of which might almost have given
her the appearance of the superior of some monastic community, had not
the cold imperious physiognomy of the abbess been modified by a
frequent bland smile, which showed her power of assuming the arts of
seduction at will, and her practice of courts. She leaned her arms
upon the table, whilst she studied with evident curiosity every
movement of her companion, who was engaged in poring, by the light of
a lamp, over a variety of strange manuscripts, all covered with the
figures, cyphers, and hieroglyphics used in cabalistic calculations.
This other personage was a man, whose appearance of age seemed to be
more studied than real. His grey hair, contrary to the custom of the
times, fell in thick locks upon his shoulders; and a white beard swept
his dark velvet robe, which was fashioned to bestow upon him an air of
priestly dignity; but his face was florid, and full of vigour, and the
few wrinkles were furrowed only upon his brow.
Around the room, the dark old panels of which, unrelieved by pictures
and hangings, rendered it gloomy and severe, were scattered books and
instruments, such as were used by the astronomers, or rather
astrologers, of the day, and a variety of other objects of a bizarre
and mysterious form, which, as the light of the lamp flickered feebly
upon them, might have been taken, in their dark nooks, for the
crouching forms of familiar imps, attendant upon a sorcerer. After
some study of his manuscripts, the old man shook his head, and,
rising, walked to the window, which stood open upon a heavy stone
balcony. The night was bright and calm; not a cloud, not a vapour
dimmed the glitter of the countless myriads of stars in the firmament;
and the moon poured down a flood of light upon the roofs of the
surrounding houses, and on the dark towers of the not far distant
Louvre, which seemed quietly sleeping in the mild night-air, whilst
within were fermenting passions, many and dark, like the troubled
dreams of the apparently tranquil sleeper. As the old man stepped upon
the balcony, he turned up his head with an assumed air of inspiration
to the sky, and considered the stars long and in silence. The female
had also risen and followed him to the window; but she remained
cautiously in the shadow of the interior of the room, whence she
watched with increasing interest the face of the astrologer. Again,
after this study of the stars, the old man returned to his table, and
began to trace new figures in various corners of the patterned
horoscopes, and make new calculations. The female stood before him,
resting her hands upon the table, awaiting with patience the result of
these mysteries of the cabala.
"Each new experience verifies the former," said the astrologer,
raising up his head at last. "The truth cannot be concealed from your
majesty. His hours are numbered--he cannot live long."
"And it is of a surety _he_, of whom the stars thus speak?" enquired
the female thus addressed, without emotion.
"The horoscopes all clash and cross each other in many lines,"
answered the astrologer: "but they are not confounded with his. The
horoscope of near and inevitable death is that of your son Charles,
the King."
"I know that he must die," said the Queen-mother coldly, sitting down.
The astrologer raised for an instant his deep-set, but piercing grey
eyes, to the pale, passionless face of the Queen, as if he could have
read the thoughts passing within. There was almost a sneer upon his
lip, as though he would have said, that perhaps none knew it better;
but that expression flickered only, like a passing flash of faint
summer lightning, and he quickly resumed--
"But about this point of death are centred many confused and jarring
lines in an inextricable web; and bright as they look to vulgar eyes,
yon stars in the heavens shine with a lurid light to those who know to
look upon them with the eyes of science; and upon their path is a dim
trail of blood--troubled and harassed shall be _the last hours of this
reign_."
"But what shall be the issue, Ruggieri?" said the Queen eagerly.
"Since Charles must die, I must resign myself to the will of destiny,"
she added, with an air of pious humility; and then, as if throwing
aside a mask which she thought needless before the astrologer, she
continued with a bitterness which amounted almost to passion in one
externally so cold--"Since Charles must die, he can be spared. He has
thrown off my maternal authority; and with the obstinacy of suspicion,
he has thwarted all my efforts to resume that power which he has
wrested from me, and which his weak hands wield so ill. He has been
taught to look upon me with mistrust; in vain I have combated this
influence, and if it grow upon him, mistrust will ripen into hate. He
regrets that great master-stroke of policy, which, by destroying all
those cursed Huguenots, delivered us at one blow from our most deadly
enemies. He has spoken of it with horror. He has dared to blame me. He
has taken Henry of Navarre, the recusant Huguenot, the false wavering
Catholic, to his counsels lately. He is my son no longer, since he no
longer acknowledges his mother's will: and he can be spared! But when
he is gone, what shall be the issue, Ruggieri? how stand the other
horoscopes?"
"The stars of the two Henrys rise together in the heavens" replied the
Queen's astrologer and confidant. "Before them stands a house of
double glory, which promises a double crown; but the order of the
heavens is not such that I can read as yet, which of the two shall
first enter it, or enter it alone."
"A double crown!" said the Queen musingly. "Henry of Anjou, my son, is
king of Poland, and on his brother's death is rightful king of France.
Yes, and he _shall_ be king of France, and wear its crown. Henry never
thwarted his mother's will, he was ever pliant as a reed to do her
bidding; and when he is king, Catherine of Medicis may again resume
the reins of power. You had predicted that he would soon return to
France; and I promised him he should return, when unwillingly he
accepted that barbarian crown, which Charles' selfish policy forced
upon him, in order to rid himself of a brother whom he hated as a
rival--hated because I loved him. Yes, he shall return to resume his
rightful crown--a double crown! But Henry of Navarre also wears a
crown, although it be a barren one--although the kingdom of Navarre
bestow upon him a mere empty title. Shall it be his--the double crown?
Oh! no! no! The stars cannot surely say it. Should all my sons die
childless, it is his by right. But they shall not die to leave _him_
their heir. No! sooner shall the last means be applied, and the
detested son perish, as did his hated mother, by one of those
incomprehensible diseases for which medicine has no cure. A double
crown! Shall his be the crown of France also? Never! Ah! little did I
think, Ruggieri, when I bestowed upon him my daughter Margaret's hand,
and thus lured him and his abhorred party to the court to finish them
with one blow, that Margaret of Valois would become a traitress to her
own mother, and protect a husband whom she accepted so unwillingly!
But Margaret is ambitious for her husband, although she loves him not,
although she loves another: the two would wish to thwart her brothers
of their birthright, that she might wear their crown on her own brow.
Through her intervention, Henry of Navarre has escaped me. He has
outlived the massacre of that night of triumph, when all his party
perished; and now Charles loves him, and calls him 'upright, honest
Henry,' and if I contend not with all the last remnants of my broken
power, my foolish son, upon his death-bed, may place the regency in
his hands, and deprive his scorned and ill-used mother of her rights.
The regency! Ah! lies there the double crown? Ah! Ruggieri, Ruggieri,
why can you only tell me thus far and no further?"
"Madam," replied the wary astrologer, "the stars run in their slow
unerring course. We cannot compel their path; we can only read their
dictates."
Catherine de Medicis rose and approached the window, through which she
contemplated the face of the bright heavens.
"Mysterious orbs of light," she said, stretching forth her arms--"ye
who rule our destinies, roll on, roll on, and tarry not. Accomplish
your great task of fate; but be it quickly, that I may know what
awaits me in that secret scroll spread out above on which ye write the
future. Let me learn the good, that I may be prepared to greet it--the
ill, that I may know how to parry it."
Strange was the compound of that credulous mind, which, whilst it
sought in the stars the announcement of an inevitable fate, hoped to
find in its own resources the means of avoiding it--which, whilst it
listened to their supposed dictates as a slave, strove to command them
as a mistress.
"And the fourth horoscope that I have bid you draw?" said the Queen,
returning to the astrologer. "How stands it?"
"The star of your youngest son, the Duke of Alencon, is towering also
to its culminating point," replied the old man, looking over the
papers before him. "But it is nebulous and dim, and shines only by a
borrowed light--that of another star which rises with it to the
zenith. They both pursue the same path; and if the star of Alencon
reach that house of glory to which it tends, that other star will
shine with such a lustre as shall dim all other lights, however bright
and glorious they now may be."
"Ha! is it so?" said Catherine thoughtfully. "Alencon conspires also
to catch the tottering crown which falls from the dying head of
Charles. But he is too weak and wavering to pursue a steady purpose.
He is led, Ruggieri--he is led. He is taught to believe that since his
elder brother has chosen the crown of Poland, it is his to claim the
throne which death will soon leave vacant. But he wants firmness of
will--it is another that guides his feeble hand. That star which
aspires to follow in the track of Alencon--I know it well, Ruggieri.
It is that of the ambitious favourite of my youngest son, of Philip de
la Mole. It is he who pushes him on. It is he who would see his master
on the throne, in order to throne it in his place. He has that
influence over Alencon which the mother possesses no longer; and were
Alencon king, it would be Philip de la Mole who would rule the
destinies of France, not Catherine de Medicis. Beneath that exterior
of thoughtless levity, lie a bold spirit and an ardent ambition. He is
an enemy not to be despised; and he shall be provided for. Alencon
protects him--my foolish Margaret loves him--but there are still means
to be employed which may curdle love to hate, and poison the secret
cup of sympathy. They shall be employed. Ha! Alencon would be king,
and Philip de la Mole would lord it over the spirits of the house of
Medicis. But they must be bold indeed who would contend with
Catherine. Pursue, Ruggieri, pursue. This star, which way does it
tend?"
"It aspires to the zenith, madam," replied the astrologer. "But, as I
have said, upon the track there is a trail of blood."
Catherine smiled.
"My youngest son has already been here to consult you; I think you
told me?" she said, with an enquiring look to the astrologer.
"Among others, who have come disguised and masked, to seek to read
their destinies in the skies, I have thought to recognise Monseigneur
the Duke of Alencon," replied Ruggieri. "He was accompanied by a tall
young man, of gay exterior and proud bearing."
"It is the very man!" exclaimed the Queen. "And do they come again?"
"I left their horoscope undetermined," replied the astrologer, "and
they must come to seek an answer to my researches in the stars."
"Let the stars lie, Ruggieri--do you hear?" pursued Catherine.
"Whatever the stars may say, you must promise them every success in
whatever enterprise they may undertake. You must excite their highest
hopes. Push them on in their mad career, that their plans may be
developed. Catherine will know how to crush them."
"It shall be as your majesty desires," said the astrologer.
As the Queen and the astrologer still conferred, a loud knocking at
the outer gate caused them to pause. Steps were heard ascending the
hollow-sounding staircase.
"I will dismiss these importunate visitors," said Ruggieri.
"No," said Catherine, "admit them; and if it be really they you
expect, leave them alone after a time, and come, by the outer passage,
to the secret cabinet: there will I be. I may have directions to give;
and, at all events, the cabinet may prove useful, as it has already
done."
Impatient knockings now resounded upon the panels of the door, and the
Queen-mother, hastily snatching up a black velvet mask and a thick
black veil, which hung upon the back of her high carved chair, flung
the latter over her head, so as to conceal her features almost as
entirely as if she had worn the mask. Ruggieri, in the meantime, had
pushed back a part of the panel of the oak walls, and when Catherine
had passed through it into a little room beyond, again closed this
species of secret door, so effectually that it would have been
impossible to discover any trace of the aperture. The astrologer then
went to open the outer door. The persons who entered, were two men
whose faces were concealed with black velvet masks, commonly worn at
the period both by men and women, as well for the purpose of disguise,
as for that of preserving the complexion; their bearing, as well as
their style of dress, proclaimed them to be young and of courtly
habits.
The first who entered was of small stature, and utterly wanting in
dignity of movement; and, although precedence into the room seemed to
have been given him by a sort of deference, he turned back again to
look at his companion, with an evident hesitation of purpose, before
he advanced fully into the apartment. The young man who followed him
was of tall stature, and of manly but graceful bearing. His step was
firm, and his head was carried high; whilst the small velvet cap
placed jauntily on one side upon his head, the light brown curling
hair of which was boldly pushed back from the broad forehead and
temples, according to the fashion of the times, seemed disposed as if
purposely to give evidence of a certain gaiety, almost recklessness,
of character. The astrologer, after giving them admittance, returned
to his table, and sitting down, demanded what might be their bidding
at that hour of the night! At his words the smaller, but apparently
the more important of the two personages, made a sign to his companion
to speak; and the latter, advancing boldly to the table, demanded of
the old man whether he did not know him.
"Whether I know you or know you not, matters but little," replied the
astrologer; "although few things can be concealed before the eye of
science."
At these words the smaller young man shuffled uneasily with his feet,
and plucked at the cloak of his companion. Ruggieri continued--"But I
will not seek to pierce the mystery of a disguise which can have no
control over the ways of destiny. Whether I know you or not, I
recognise you well. Already have you been here to enquire into the
dark secrets of the future. I told you then, that we must wait to
judge the movements of the stars. Would you know further now?"
"That is the purpose of our coming," said the latter of the two young
men, to whom the office of spokesman had been given. "We have come,
although at this late hour of the night, because the matter presses on
which we would know our fate."
"Yes, the matter presses," replied the astrologer; "for I have read
the stars, and I have calculated the chances of your destinies."
The smaller personage pressed forward at these words, as if full of
eager curiosity. The other maintained the same easy bearing that
seemed his usual habit.
The astrologer turned over a variety of mysterious papers, as if
searching among them for the ciphers that he needed; then, consulting
the pages of a book, he again traced several figures upon a parchment;
and at length, after the seeming calculation of some minutes, he
raised his head, and addressing himself to the smaller man, said--
"You have an enterprise in hand, young man, upon which not only your
own destinies and those of your companion, but of many thousands of
your fellow creatures depend! Your enterprise is grand, your destiny
is noble."
The young men turned to look at each other; and he, who had as yet not
broken silence, said, with an eager palpitating curiosity, although
the tones of his voice were ill assured--
"And what say the stars? Will it succeed?"
"Go on, and prosper!" replied the astrologer. "A noble course lies
before you. Go on, and success the most brilliant and the most prompt
attends you."
"Ha! there is, after all, some truth in your astrology, I am inclined
to think!" said the first speaker gaily.
"Why have you doubted, young man?" pursued the astrologer severely.
"The stars err not--cannot err."
"Pardon me, father," said the young man with his usual careless air.
"I will doubt no further. And we shall succeed?"
"Beyond your utmost hopes. Upon your brow, young man," continued the
astrologer, addressing again the smaller person, "descends a circlet
of glory, the brilliancy of which shall dazzle every eye. But stay,
all is not yet done. The stars thus declare the will of destiny; but
yet, in these inscrutable mysteries of fate, it is man's own will that
must direct the course of events--it is his own hand must strike the
blow. Fatality and human will are bound together as incomprehensibly
as soul and body. You must still lend your hand to secure the
accomplishment of your own destiny. But our mighty science shall
procure for you so powerful a charm, that no earthly power can resist
its influence. Stay, I will return shortly." So saying, Ruggieri rose
and left the room by the door through which the young men had entered.
"What does he mean?" said the shorter of the young men.
"What matter, Monseigneur!" replied the other. "Does he not promise us
unbounded success? I little thought myself, when I accompanied you
hither, that my belief in this astrology would grow up so rapidly.
Long live the dark science, and the black old gentleman who professes
it, when they lighten our path so brilliantly!"
"Let us breathe a little at our ease, until he returns," said he who
appeared the more important personage of the two; and throwing himself
into a chair, and removing his mask, he discovered the pale face of a
young man, who might have been said to possess some beauty, in spite
of the irregularity of his features, had not the expression of that
face been marred by a pinched and peevish look of weakness and
indecision.
His companion followed his example in removing his mask, and the face
thus revealed formed a striking contrast to that of the other young
man. His complexion was of a clear pale brown, relieved by a flush of
animated colour; his brow was fair and noble; his features were finely
but not too strongly chiselled. A small dark mustache curled boldly
upwards above a beautifully traced and smiling mouth, the character of
which was at once resolute and gay, and strangely at variance with the
expression of the dark grey eyes, which was more that of tenderness
and melancholy. He remained standing before the other personage, with
one hand on his hip, in an attitude at once full of ease and
deference.
"Did I not right, then, to counsel you as I have done in this matter,
my lord duke," he said to the other young man, "since the astrologer,
in whom you have all confidence, promises us so unbounded a success:
and you give full credence to the announcement of the stars?"
"Yes--yes, Philip," answered the Duke, reclining back in his chair,
and rubbing his hands with a sort of internal satisfaction.
"Then let us act at once," continued the young man called Philip. "The
King cannot live many days--perhaps not many hours. There is no time
to be lost. Henry of Anjou, your elder brother, is far away; the crown
of Poland weighs upon his brow. You are present. The troops have been
taught to love you. The Huguenot party have confidence in you. The
pretensions of Henry of Navarre to the regency must give way before
yours. All parties will combine to look upon you as the heir of
Charles; and now the very heavens, the very stars above, seem to
conspire to make you that which I would you should be. Your fortune,
then, is in your own hands."
"Yes. So it is!" replied the Duke.
"Assemble, then, all those attached to your service or your person!"
"I will."
"Let your intention be known among the guards."
"It shall."
"As soon as the King shall have ceased to breathe, seize upon all the
gates of the Louvre."
"Yes," continued the Duke, although his voice, so eager the moment
before, seemed to tremble at the thought of so much decision of
action.
"Declare yourself the Master of the kingdom in full parliament."
"Yes," again replied the young Duke, more weakly. "But"----
"But what--Monseigneur!" exclaimed his companion.
"But," continued the Duke again, with hesitation, "if Henry, my
brother, should return--if he should come to claim his crown. You may
be sure that our mother, who cares for him alone, will have already
sent off messengers to advertise him of Charles's danger, and bid him
come!"
"I know she has," replied Philip coolly. "But I have already taken
upon myself, without Monseigneur's instructions, for which I could not
wait, to send off a sure agent to intercept her courier, to detain him
at any price, to destroy his despatches."
"Philip! what have you done?" exclaimed the young Duke, in evident
alarm. "Intercept my mother's courier! Dare to disobey my mother! My
Mother! You do not know her then."
"Not know her?" answered his companion. "Who in this troubled land of
France does not know Catherine of Medicis, her artful wiles, her
deadly traits of vengeance? Shake not your head, Monseigneur! You know
her too. But, Charles no more, you will have the crown upon your
brow--it will be yours to give orders: those who will dare to disobey
you will be your rebel subjects. Act, then, as king. If she resist,
give orders for her arrest!"
"Arrest my Mother! Who would dare to do it?" said the Duke with agitation.
"I."
"Oh, no--no--La Mole! Never would I take upon myself"----
"Take upon yourself to be a King, if you would be one," said the
Duke's confidant, with energy.
"We will speak more of this," hastily interposed the wavering Duke.
"Hush! some one comes. It is this Ruggieri!"
In truth the astrologer re-entered the room. In his hand he bore a
small object wrapped in a white cloth, which he laid down upon the
table; and then, turning to the young men, who had hastily reassumed
their masks before he appeared, and who now stood before him, he
said--
"The sole great charm that can complete the will of destiny, and
assure the success of your great enterprise, lies there before you.
Have you no enemy whose death you most earnestly desire, to forward
that intent?"
The young men looked at each other; but they both answered, after the
hesitation of a moment--
"None!"
"None, upon whose death depends that turn in the wheel of fate that
should place you on its summit?"
Both the young men were silent.
"At all events," continued the cunning astrologer, "your destiny
depends upon the action of your own hands. This action we must symbol
forth in mystery, in order that your destiny be accomplished.
Here--take this instrument," he pursued, producing a long gold pin of
curious workmanship, which at need might have done the task of a
dagger, "and pierce the white cloth that lies before you on the
table."
The Duke drew back, and refused the instrument thus offered to him.
"Do I not tell you that the accomplishment of your brilliant destiny
depends upon this act?" resumed Ruggieri.
"I know not what this incantation may be," said the timid Duke. "Take
it, Philip."
But La Mole, little as he was inclined to the superstitious credulity
of the times, seemed not more disposed than his master to lend his
hand to an act which had the appearance of being connected with the
rites of sorcery, and he also refused. On the reiterated assurances of
the astrologer, however, that upon that harmless blow hung the
accomplishment of their enterprise, and at the command of the Duke, he
took the instrument into his hand, and approached it over the cloth.
Again, however, he would have hesitated, and would have withdrawn; but
the astrologer seized his hand before he was aware, and, giving it a
sharp direction downwards, caused him to plunge the instrument into
the object beneath the cloth. La Mole shuddered as he felt it
penetrate into a soft substance, that, small as it was, gave him the
idea of a human body; and that shudder ran through his whole frame as
a presentiment of evil.
"It is done," said the astrologer. "Go! and let the work of fate be
accomplished."
The pale foreheads of both the young men, visible above their masks,
showed that they felt they had been led further in the work of
witchcraft than was their intention; but they did not expostulate. It
was the Duke who now first rallied, and throwing down a heavy purse of
coin on the table before the astrologer, he called to his companion to
follow him.
Scarcely had the young men left the apartment, when the pannel by
which Catherine of Medicis had disappeared, again opened, and she
entered the room. Her face was pale, cold, and calm as usual.
"You heard them, Ruggieri!" she said, with her customary bland smile.
"Alencon would be king, and that ambitious fool drives him to snatch
his brother's crown. The Queen-mother is to be arrested, and
imprisoned as a rebel to her usurping son. A notable scheme, forsooth!
Her courier to recall Henry of Anjou from Poland has been intercepted
also! But that mischance must be remedied immediately. Ay! and
avenged. Biragne shall have instant orders. With this proof in my
possession, the life of that La Mole is mine," continued she, tearing
in twain the white linen cloth, and displaying beneath it a small wax
figure, bearing the semblance of a king, with a crown upon its head,
in which the gold pin was still left sticking, by the manner in which
this operation was performed. "Little treasure of vengeance, thou art
mine! Ruggieri, man, that plot was acted to the life. Verily, verily,
you were right. Charles dies; and troubled and harassed will be the
_last hours of his reign_."