de Poitiers, who smiled upon him, turned his head slightly to glance
about and caught the eye of Madame d'Etampes; she also smiled upon him,
but the smile of the one was gracious, and of the other awe-inspiring.
And so it was with a trembling and uncertain voice that poor Marot,
burning up on one side, and frozen on the other, repeated the following
verses:--
"Etre Phœbus bien souvent je désire,
Non pour connaître herbes divinement,
Car la douleur que mon cœur veut occire
Ne se guérit par herbe aucunement.
Non pour avoir ma place au firmament,
Non pour son arc encontre Amour laisir,
Car à mon roi ne veux être rebelle.
Être Phœbus seulement je désir,
Pour être aimé de Diane la belle."[10]
Marot had barely littered the last syllable of this charming madrigal,
when the blues applauded vociferously, while the lilacs preserved a
deathly silence. Thereupon, emboldened by the applause on the one hand,
and chagrined by the frigid reception accorded his effusion on the
other, he boldly presented the _chef-d'œuvre_ to Madame de Poitiers.
"To 'Diane the fair,'" he said in an undertone, bowing to the ground
before her; "you understand, madame, fair in your own right and by
contrast."
Diane thanked him with her sweetest smile, and Marot turned away.
"One may venture to write verses in praise of a fair one, after having
done the same in honor of the fairest," said the ill-fated poet
apologetically as he passed Madame d'Etampes; "you remember, madame, 'De
France la plus belle.'"
Anne replied with a withering glance.
Two groups, composed of acquaintances of the reader, stood aloof from
the throng during this incident. In one were Ascanio and Cellini:
Benvenuto was weak enough to prefer the "Divina Commedia" to airy
conceits. The other group consisted of Comte d'Orbec, the Vicomte de
Marmagne, Messire d'Estourville, and Colombe, who had implored her
father not to mingle with the crowd, with which she then came in contact
for the first time, and which caused her no other sensation than terror.
Comte d'Orbec gallantly refused to leave his _fiancée_, who was to be
presented by the provost to the queen after mass.
Ascanio and Colombe, although they were equally bewildered by their
strange surroundings, had spied each other at once, and from time to
time stealthily exchanged glances. The two pure-hearted, timid children,
both of whom had been reared in the solitude which makes noble hearts,
would have been isolated and lost indeed in that gorgeous and corrupt
throng, had they not been so situated that they could see and thereby
mutually strengthen and encourage each other.
They had not met since the day they confessed their love. Half a score
of times Ascanio had tried to gain admission to the Petit-Nesle, but
always in vain. The new servant, presented to Colombe by Comte d'Orbec,
invariably answered his knock instead of Dame Perrine, and dismissed him
unceremoniously. Ascanio was neither rich enough nor bold enough to try
to buy the woman. Furthermore he had naught but sad news, which she
would learn only too soon, to impart to his beloved; the news of the
master's avowal of his own passion for Colombe, and the consequent
necessity, not only of doing without his support, but perhaps of having
to contend against him.
As to the course to be pursued, Ascanio felt, as he had said to Cellini,
that God alone could now save him. And being left to his own resources
he had, in his innocence, resolved to attempt to soften Madame
d'Etampes. When a hope upon which one has confidently relied is blasted,
one is always tempted to have recourse to the most desperate expedients.
The all-powerful energy of Benvenuto not only had failed Ascanio, but
would undoubtedly be turned against him. Ascanio determined, therefore,
with the trustfulness of youth, to appeal to what he believed he had
discovered of grandeur and nobleness and generosity in the character of
Madame d'Etampes, in an attempt to arouse the sympathy of her by whom he
was beloved with his suffering. Afterward, if that last fragile branch
slipped from his hand, what could he do, a poor, weak friendless child,
but wait? That was why he had accompanied Benvenuto to court.
The Duchesse d'Etampes had returned to her place. He joined the throng
of her courtiers, reached a position behind her, and finally succeeded
in making his way to her chair. Chancing to turn her head, she saw him.
"Ah, is it you, Ascanio?" she said, coldly.
"Yes, Madame la Duchesse. I came hither with my master, Benvenuto, and
my excuse for venturing to address you is my desire to know if you were
hopelessly dissatisfied with the drawing of the lily which you kindly
ordered me to prepare, and which I left at the Hôtel d'Etampes the
other day."
"No, in very truth, I think it most beautiful," said Madame d'Etampes,
somewhat mollified, "and connoisseurs to whom I have shown it, notably
Monsieur de Guise here, are entirely of my opinion. But will the
completed work be as perfect as the drawing? and if you think that you
can promise that it will, will my gems be sufficient?"
"Yes, madame, I hope so. I should have liked, however, to place on the
heart of the flower a large diamond, which would glisten there like a
drop of dew; but it would be too great an expense perhaps to incur for a
work intrusted to an humble artist like myself."
"Oh, we can indulge in that extravagance, Ascanio."
"But a diamond of that size would be worth some two hundred thousand
crowns, madame."
"Very well, we will reflect thereon. But," added the duchess, lowering
her voice, "confer a favor upon me, Ascanio."
"I am at your service, madame."
"A moment since, while listening to Marot's insipid trash, I spied Comte
d'Orbec at the other end of the room. Find him out, if you please, and
say to him that I would speak with him."
"What, madame!" exclaimed Ascanio, turning pale at the count's name.
"Did you not say that you were at my service?" continued Madame
d'Etampes haughtily. "Moreover, my reason for asking you to undertake
this commission is that you are interested in the subject of the
conversation I wish to have with Comte d'Orbec, and it may well give you
food for reflection, if they who are in love do ever reflect."
"I will obey you, madame," said Ascanio, apprehensive lest he should
displease her at whose hands he hoped to obtain salvation.
"Very good. Pray address the count in Italian,--I have my reasons for
requesting you to do so,--and return to me with him."
Ascanio, to avoid the danger of any further collision with his
redoubtable foe, walked away, and asked a young nobleman wearing a lilac
favor if he had seen Comte d'Orbec, and where he was.
"There he is," was the reply, "that old ape whispering with the Provost
of Paris, and standing so near that lovely girl."
The lovely girl was Colombe, at whom all the dandies were gazing with
admiring curiosity. The old ape seemed to Ascanio as repulsive a
creature as a rival could desire. After scrutinizing him for a moment he
walked up to him, and to Colombe's unbounded amazement accosted him in
Italian, requesting him to go with himself to Madame d'Etampes. The
count excused himself to his fiancée and friends, and made haste to
obey the duchess's command, followed by Ascanio, who did not take his
leave until he had bestowed a significant reassuring glance upon poor
Colombe, who was confounded by the extraordinary message, and more than
all else by the sight of the messenger.
"Ah, count, good morning," said Madame d'Etampes, as her eye fell upon
D'Orbec; "I am charmed to see you, for I have matters of importance to
discuss with you. Messieurs," she added, addressing those who were
standing near, "we have still a quarter of an hour to await the coming
of their Majesties, and if you will allow me I will seize the
opportunity to talk with my old friend Comte d'Orbec."
All the noblemen who had crowded about the duchess hastened to stand
discreetly aside; in obedience to this unceremonious dismissal, and left
her with the king's treasurer in one of the window embrasures, as large
as one of our salons of to-day. Ascanio was about to do as the rest did,
but, at a sign from the duchess, he remained.
"Who is this young man?" queried the count.
"An Italian page who does not understand a word of French; you may speak
before him exactly as if we were alone."
"Very well, madame," rejoined D'Orbec; "I have obeyed your orders
blindly, without even seeking to know your motives. You expressed a wish
that my future wife should be presented to the queen to-day. Colombe is
here with her father; but, now that I have complied with your command, I
confess that I should be glad to understand it. Do I presume too much,
madame, in asking you for some little explanation?"
"You are the most devoted of my faithful friends, D'Orbec; happily there
is still much that I can do for you, but I do not know if I shall ever
be able to pay my debt to you: however, I will try. This treasurership
which I have given you is simply the corner stone upon which I propose
to build your fortune, count."
"Madame!" said D'Orbec, bowing to the ground.
"I am about to speak frankly to you, therefore; but before all let me
offer my congratulations. I saw your Colombe just now: she is truly
ravishingly beautiful; a little awkward, but that adds to her charm. And
yet, between ourselves, I have racked my brain in vain,--I know you, and
I cannot understand with what object you, a serious, prudent man, but
slightly enamored, I fancy, of youth and beauty, are entering into this
marriage. I say, with what object, for there must necessarily be
something underneath it: you are not the man to take such a step at
random."
"Dame! one must settle down, madame; and the father is an old villain
who has ducats to leave to his daughter."
"But how old is he, pray?"
"Oh, some fifty-five or six years."
"And you, count?"
"About the same age; but he is so used up."
"I begin to understand, and to recognize your fine hand. I knew that you
were above mere vulgar sentiment, and that yonder child's fascinations
did not constitute the attraction for you."
"Fie, madame! I have never even thought of them; if she had been ugly it
would have been all the same; she happens to be pretty, so much the
better."
"Oh, that's all right, count, otherwise I should despair of you."
"And now that you have found me, madame, will you deign to inform me--"
"Oh, it is simply that I am indulging in some beautiful dreams for you,"
the duchess interposed. "Where I would like to see you, D'Orbec, do you
know, is in Poyet's place, for I detest him," she added, with a
malevolent glance at the chancellor, who was still walking with the
constable.
"What, madame, one of the most exalted posts in the realm?"
"Well, are you not yourself an eminent man, count? But alas! my power is
so precarious; my throne is upon the brink of an abyss. Even at this
moment I am in mortal terror. The king has for a mistress the wife of a
nobody, a petty judge named Féron. If the woman were ambitious we
should be ruined. I ought to have taken the initiative myself in this
whim of his Majesty's. Ah! I shall never find another like the little
Duchesse de Brissac, whom I presented to him; a sweet woman of no force
of character, a mere child. I shall always weep for her; she was not
dangerous, and talked to the king of nothing but my perfections. Poor
Marie! she assumed all the burdens of my position, and left me all the
benefits. But this Féronnière, as they call her, why, it requires all
my power to draw François I. away from her. I have exhausted my whole
arsenal of seductions, and am driven, alas! to my last intrenchment,
habit."
"How so, madame?"
"Mon Dieu, yes, I devote myself almost exclusively to his mind now, for
his heart is elsewhere; you can understand how much I need an auxiliary.
Where can I find her,--a devoted, sincere friend, of whom I can be sure?
Ah! I would repay her with such quantities of gold and such a host of
honors! Seek out such a one for me, D'Orbec. You know how closely the
king and the man are allied in the person of our sovereign, and to what
lengths the man can lead the king on. If we could be, not rivals but
allies, not mistresses but friends; if, while one held sway over
François, the other might hold sway over François I., France would be
ours, count, and at what a moment! just as Charles V. is about to plunge
into our net of his own free will, when we can hold him to ransom on
such terms as we choose, and take advantage of his imprudence to assure
ourselves a magnificent future in case of accident. I will explain my
plans to you, D'Orbec. This Diane who pleases you so much would no
longer threaten our fortunes, and the Chevalier de France might
become--But here is the king."
Such was the way of Madame d'Etampes; she rarely explained her meaning,
but left it to be guessed. She would sow ideas in a man's mind, and set
avarice, ambition, and natural perversity at work; and then she would
conveniently interrupt herself. A great and useful art, which cannot be
too highly commended to many poets and innumerable lovers.
So it was that Comte d'Orbec, eager in the pursuit of gain and honors,
corrupt to the last degree and worn out by years and dissipation,
perfectly understood the duchess, whose eyes more than once during the
interview had wandered toward Colombe.
Ascanio's noble and straightforward nature was quite incapable of
sounding the depths of this mystery of iniquity and infamy, but he had a
vague foreboding that this strange and ominous conversation concealed
some terrible peril for his beloved, and he gazed at Madame d'Etampes in
terror.
An usher announced the king and queen. In an instant everybody was
standing, hat in hand.
"God have you in his keeping, messieurs," said François as he entered
the room. "I have some weighty news which I must make known to you at
once. Our dear brother, the Emperor Charles V., is at this moment _en
route_ for France, if he has not already passed the frontier. Let us
prepare, messieurs, to welcome him worthily. I need not remind my loyal
nobility of the obligations imposed upon us by the laws of hospitality
at such a time. We proved at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, that we
knew how kings should be received. Within the month Charles V., will be
at the Louvre."
"And I, my lords," said Queen Eleanora in her sweet voice, "thank you in
advance in my royal brother's name for the welcome you will accord him."
The nobles replied with shouts of "Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive
l'Empereur!"
At that moment something wriggled its way along between the legs of the
courtiers toward the king; it was Triboulet.
"Sire," said the fool, "will you permit me to dedicate to your Majesty a
work I am about to print?"
"With all the pleasure in the world, fool," the king replied; "but I
must first know the title of the work, and how far advanced it is."
"Sire, the work will be entitled the 'Almanac of Fools,' and will
contain a list of the greatest idiots that the world has ever seen. As
to the progress I have made with it, I have already inscribed upon the
first page the name of the king of all fools past and to come."
"Who might this illustrious worthy be, whom you give me for cousin, and
select for king of fools?"
"Charles V., Sire."
"Charles V.," cried the king; "and why Charles V.?"
"Because there is no other than Charles V. in the world, who, after
detaining you a prisoner at Madrid as he did, would be insane enough to
pass through your Majesty's dominions."
"But suppose that he does pass through the very heart of my dominions
without accident?"
"In that case," said Triboulet, "I promise to erase his name and put
another in its place."
"Whose name will that be?" queried the king.
"Yours, Sire; for in allowing him to pass you will show yourself a
greater fool than he."
The king roared with laughter. The courtiers echoed his merriment. Poor
Eleanora alone turned pale.
"Very good!" said François, "put my name in place of the Emperor's at
once, for I have given my word of honor, and I'll stand to it. As to the
dedication, I accept it, and here is the price of the first copy that
appears."
With that the king tossed a well filled purse to Triboulet, who caught
it in his teeth, and hopped away on all fours, growling like a dog with
a bone.
"Madame," said the Provost of Paris to the queen, as he stepped forward
with Colombe, "will your Majesty permit me to avail myself of this
joyful moment to present to you under happy auspices my daughter
Colombe, whom you have condescended to receive as one of your maids of
honor?"
The kindly queen addressed a few words of congratulation and
encouragement to poor abashed Colombe, at whom the king meanwhile was
gazing in admiration.
"By my halidome, Messire le Prévôt," said François, smiling, "do you
know that it's nothing less than high treason to have kept such a pearl
so long buried and out of sight,--a pearl so well adapted to shine in
the garland of beauties who surround the majesty of our queen. If you
are not punished, for the felony, Messire Robert, you may thank the mute
intercession of those lovely downcast eyes."
Thereupon the king, with a graceful salutation to the charming girl,
passed on to the chapel followed by the whole court.
"Madame," said the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, offering his hand to the
Duchesse d'Etampes, "shall we not allow the throng to pass, and remain a
little behind? We shall be more conveniently situated here than
elsewhere for a word or two of importance which I have to say to you in
private."
"I am at your service, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," replied the duchess. "Do
not go, Comte d'Orbec; you may say anything, Monsieur de Medina, before
this old friend, who is my second self, and this young man, who speaks
nothing but Italian."
"Their discretion is of no less consequence to you than to me, madame,
and if you feel sure of them--But we are alone, and I will go straight
to the point without digression or concealment. You understand that his
Sacred Majesty has determined to pass through France,--that he is in all
probability already within her boundaries. He is well aware, however,
that his path lies between two long lines of enemies, but he relies upon
the chivalrous loyalty of the king. You have yourself advised him so to
rely, madame, and I frankly admit that, having vastly more power than
any titular minister, you have enough influence over François to set a
trap for the Emperor, or guarantee his safety, according as your advice
is friendly or unfriendly. But why should you turn against us? It is
neither for the state's interest nor your own to do so."
"Go on, monseigneur; you have not said all that you have to say, I
fancy?"
"No, madame. Charles V. is a worthy successor of Charlemagne, and what a
disloyal ally might demand from him as ransom he proposes to bestow as a
gift, and to leave neither hospitality nor friendly counsel unrewarded?"
"Superb! he will act with no less discretion than grandeur."
"King François I. has always ardently desired the Duchy of Milan,
madame, and Charles will consent to cede that province, a never-ending
subject of contention between France and Spain, in consideration of an
annual rent charge."
"I understand," said the duchess, "the Emperor's finances are in a
straitened condition, as everybody knows; on the other hand, the
Milanese is ruined by a score of wars, and his Sacred Majesty would not
be sorry to transfer his claim from a poor to an opulent debtor. I
refuse, Monsieur de Medina; you must yourself understand that such a
proposition could not be acceptable."
"But, madame, overtures have already been made to his Majesty on the
subject of this investiture, and he seemed delighted with the idea."
"I know it; but I refuse. If you can dispense with my consent, so much
the better for you."
"Madame, the Emperor is especially desirous to know that you are in his
interest, and whatever you may desire--"
"My influence is not merchandise to be bought and sold, Monsieur
l'Ambassadeur."
"O madame, who implied such a thing?"
"Hark ye! you assure me that your master desires my support, and between
ourselves he is wise. Very well! to promise it to him I demand less than
he offers. Follow me closely. This is what he must do. He must promise
François I. the investiture of the Duchy of Milan, but as soon as he
has left France behind, he must remember the violated treaty of Madrid,
and forget his promise."
"Why, that would mean war, madame!"
"Stay a moment, Monsieur de Medina. His Majesty will cry out and
threaten, no doubt. Thereupon Charles will consent to make the Milanese
an independent state, and will give it, free of all tribute, to Charles
d'Orléans, the king's second son; in that way the Emperor will not
aggrandize a rival. That will be worth a few crowns to him, monseigneur,
and I think that you can have nothing to say against it. As to any
personal desires I may have, as you suggested a moment since, if his
Sacred Majesty enters into my plans, he may let fall in my presence, at
our first interview, a bauble of more or less brilliancy, which I will
pick up, if it is worth the trouble, and retain as a souvenir of the
glorious alliance concluded between the successor of the Cæsars, King
of Spain and the Indies, and myself."
The duchess turned to Ascanio, who was as terrified by her dark and
mysterious schemes as the Duke of Medina was disturbed by them, and as
Comte d'Orbec seemed delighted.
"All this for you, Ascanio," she whispered. "To win your heart I would
sacrifice France. Well, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," she continued aloud,
"what have you to say to that?"
"The Emperor alone can decide upon a matter of such gravity, madame;
nevertheless, everything leads me to believe that he will acquiesce in
an arrangement which almost terrifies me, it seems so favorable to us."
"If it will set your mind at rest, I will say to you that it is in
reality equally favorable to me, and that is why I undertake to make the
king accept it. We women have our own political schemes, more profound
sometimes than yours. But I can promise you that mine are in no wise
inimical to your interests: indeed, how could they be? Meanwhile,
however, pending the decision of Charles V., you may be sure that I
shall not lose an opportunity to act against him, and that I shall do my
utmost to induce his Majesty to detain him as a prisoner."
"What! Madame, is this your way of beginning an alliance?"
"Go to, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur. Can a statesman like yourself fail to
see that the most essential thing for me is to put aside all suspicion
of undue influence, and that to espouse your cause openly would be the
surest method of ruining it? Moreover, I do not propose that any one
shall ever be able to betray me or denounce me. Let me be your enemy,
Monsieur le Duc, and let me talk against you. What does it matter to
you? Do you not know what mere words amount to? If Charles V. refuses to
accept my terms I will say to the king, 'Sire, trust to my generous
womanly instinct. You must not recoil before just and necessary
reprisals.' And if the Emperor accepts, I will say, 'Sire, trust to my
feminine, that is to say, feline sharpness; you must resign yourself to
commit an infamous but advantageous act."
"Ah, madame!" said the Duke of Medina, bowing low, "what a pity it is
that you should be a queen, you would have made such a perfect
ambassador!"
With that the duke took leave of Madame d'Etampes, and walked away,
enchanted with the unexpected turn the negotiations had taken.
"Now it is my purpose to speak plainly and without circumlocution," said
the duchess to Comte d'Orbec, when she was alone with Ascanio and him.
"You know three things, count: first, that it is most important for my
friends and myself that my power should at this moment be put beyond
question and beyond the reach of attack; secondly, that when this
arrangement is once carried through, we shall have no occasion to dread
the future, that Charles d'Orléans will fill the place of François I.,
and that the Duke of Milan, whom I shall have made what he is, will owe
me much more gratitude than the King of France, who has made me what I
am; thirdly, that your Colombe's beauty has made a vivid impression upon
his Majesty. Very well! I address myself now, count, to the superior
individual, who is not influenced by vulgar prejudices. You hold your
fate in your own hands at this moment: do you choose that Trésorier
d'Orbec should succeed Chancelier Poyet, or, in more positive terms,
that Colombe d'Orbec should succeed Marie de Brissac?"