"See, De Vitry, that a force of twenty lances be sent from Pavia to
our young cousin ere night," said the king; "that will be enough for
his protection, my lord regent, I presume?"
"More than enough, sire," replied Ludovic, somewhat sternly.
"Himself alone, with a few of his own servants, could pass quite
safely--except, indeed, in case of some sudden tumult."
"Which tumults are easily raised in this Italy of yours," replied the
young monarch. "It is therefore better he should have a French pennon
with him. Methinks, after our alliance, offensive and defensive, no
one will dare to attack that, my lord regent."
Ludovic bit his lip, but then he smiled grimly, saying, "Not unless he
should chance to encounter the forces of our dear cousin Alphonso,
King of Naples, coming to drive the poor Sforzas out of Milan, and
give your majesty some trouble in the plains of Lombardy. They would
not, methinks, show much reverence for a French pennon, nor even for
the banner of France itself."
"'Tis strange we have no news," said Charles, with a shadow on his
brow; "our last intelligence dates the 14th of last month, and then
the Neapolitan fleet were under full sail."
"It is possible that Prince Frederick, who commands his brother's
fleet, may have defeated the Duke of Orleans and landed in Tuscany,
sire," observed Ludovic; "in that case we shall hear nothing of the
enemy till we see him. May it not be better for me to summon all my
forces, and march with your majesty till we are assured the roads are
open? I can gather twenty thousand men together, from different
garrisons, in eight days, but I have only four thousand now in Pavia."
The king seemed to hesitate; but just then De Vitry, who was riding
half a horse's length behind on the king's right, raised his voice,
saying bluntly, "Better wait decision till we are in the city, my
liege, and then I will tell your majesty why."
"Better wait till then, at all events," said the king, thoughtfully;
"but what is your reason, De Vitry?"
"Simply this, my liege," said the good soldier; "in the grey of the
morning there came in a courier from Bologna. He said he was bound by
his orders to stay in Pavia till your majesty arrived or sent. But he
had letters for you, sire, which he would show to no one; and some
private letters for the camp, which I took from him. They gave no
tidings, however, that I could learn."
"Did he give no intelligence himself?" asked Ludovic, eagerly.
"He was mightily cautious of committing himself, Sir Count," answered
De Vitry, drily; "a most discreet and silent messenger, I can assure
you."
All parties fell into silence, and rode on for about half a mile at a
slow pace, when the count regent turned to the king, saying, "Here I
will spur on, so please you, sire. I would fain see that all is
rightly prepared to receive you royally. I have been obliged to trust
that care to others hitherto; but I would fain confirm the assurances
given me by my people, by my own eyesight." Charles bowed his head
with a somewhat doubtful look, and Ludovic instantly forced his horse
forward with great speed. Some twenty horsemen drew out from the rest
of the cavalcade and followed him, and Charles turned his head toward
De Vitry with an inquiring look.
"Let him go, sire--let him go," said De Vitry, in a low voice,
spurring up to the king's side; "he can do no harm. I have cared for
all that. I have so posted our men that he has no more power in Pavia
than an Indian has. Lucky that you sent me on as your quarter-master
some days before; for I had time to fix on all the commanding spots;
and as I passed the army this morning, I gave the leaders
instructions, and furnished them with guides to their several
quarters. But, what is more important still, if your majesty will bend
your ear for a moment, I drew from this courier, upon promise that I
would not deprive him of his largesse, but add something on my own
part, that the good Duke of Orleans, with his little squadron, had
contrived to drive back the whole Neapolitan fleet into Naples. Had he
had galleys enough he would have taken half of them, and, perhaps,
Prince Frederick into the bargain. As it was, he could only take one
galley and sink another. The news is certain, sire; so Signor
Ludovic's cunning scheme of joining his men with yours must fail."
"Think you he meant mischief?" asked the young king, whose face had
gradually been lighted up as his gallant officer spoke.
"He meant to have the power of doing mischief or not as he pleased,"
replied De Vitry; "with twenty thousand men, sire, while you had
certain enemies and uncertain friends before you, he might have proved
a dangerous comrade on the march whenever he chose to turn traitor,
which he will do, depend upon it, at the slightest reverse. A man who
can shut up his own nephew and ward, with the poor lad's wife and
child, in the castle of Pavia, and feed them all three upon slow
poison till there is no strength left in any of them, cannot be well
trusted, sire."
"Has he done that," exclaimed the young king, with his cheek flushing
and his eyes all in a blaze; "has he done that?"
"I have it from the very best authority," replied the other. "I cannot
speak from my own knowledge; for they would not let me into the
castle; but I have been told so by those who know; and if he were not
afraid of letting you see what is going on in that dark old fortress,
why should he not assign you the magnificent rooms, where so many
Lombard kings and Roman emperors have sat, and put the gates in
possession of your troops? The house he has had prepared for your
majesty is fine enough; but it is but a citizen's house, after all;
and, depend upon it, there are things within the walls of the castle
he would not have you see with your own eyes."
"He shall find himself mistaken," said the young king--"he shall find
himself mistaken. I will see, and that at once. How many men have we
with us now, De Vitry?"
"Some four hundred, I should guess, sire," replied the officer; "but
there are a thousand more in the little guard-house square at the
gates, ready to escort your majesty to your dwelling."
"That is right! that is right!" said Charles, with a smile; "let us
put our horses to a quicker pace, good friend. We will be upon the
worthy regent's heels before he expects us."
In three-quarters of an hour, Charles and his escort had reached the
gates of Pavia. There was bustle and some disarray among the Lombard
soldiers on guard; for the monarch had appeared before he was
expected; but they hurried forth from the guard-houses to salute him
as he passed, and the French men-at-arms and soldiers in the little
square were up and arrayed in a minute. At the entrance of the street
leading from the Milan gate into the heart of the city--a street which
the reader may well remember, from its gloomy aspect, specially if he
have entered Pavia on a rainy day--a gallant party of horsemen,
dressed in the robes of peace, advanced to meet the King of France,
and, after due salutation, told him they had been sent by the regent
to conduct him to his dwelling.
"Good! We will follow you speedily," said the monarch; "but there is
one visit we have to pay first, which cannot be omitted. In kingly
courtesy and in kindred kindness we are bound to set foot to the
ground in Pavia, for the first time, at the dwelling of our young
cousin, the Duke Giovan Galeazzo. Lead on to the castle, De Vitry, and
let the whole train follow. We will then accompany these good
gentlemen to the dwelling prepared for us by the regent's kindness."
Some consternation was apparent among the retainers of the Count
Ludovic; they spoke together in whispers; but the young king showed no
inclination to wait for the conclusion of their deliberation, and rode
on, guided by De Vitry, merely saying to the Lombard nobles, with a
somewhat stern look, "Gentlemen, we hope for your escort to the
castle."
They did not dare to disobey an invitation which was so like a
command; and the whole cavalcade moved onward toward the citadel, with
the exception of one small page, who slunk away at the first corner of
a street they came to, and was no further seen. It was not long ere
the frowning barbican, with its drawbridge and portcullis, appeared
before the royal party; and Charles, turning to the retainers, said,
with a somewhat bitter smile, "Will you request the warders to open
the gates for the King of France, to visit his fair cousin the duke?
We must not summon them ourselves, having so many armed men with us;
for that might seem too peremptory."
There was a moment of doubt and hesitation, evidently, on the part of
the envoys. The men-at-arms nearest the king, who, with the quick wit
of Frenchmen, seemed to comprehend the whole situation in a moment,
grasped their lances more firmly; and the king's brow began to darken
at finding his orders disobeyed. Upon that moment hung the fate of
Pavia, and perhaps of Lombardy; but it ended by one of the Lombard
nobles riding forward and speaking to the officer at the gates.
Whether he heard or not the sound of horses' feet at a gallop, I
cannot tell, but certain it is that while he seemed to parley with the
soldiers, who were apparently unwilling to open the gates even at his
command, Ludovic the Moor, with two or three attendants, dashed into
the open space before the barbican, and rode quickly to the front. He
had had notice of the young monarch's movements, and his part was
decided in a moment.
"How now, sirrah!" he exclaimed, addressing the soldiers beneath the
gateway in a loud and angry tone, "do you keep the King of France
waiting before the gates like a lackey? Throw open the gates! Down
with the drawbridge! My lord king," he continued, with bated breath,
"I regret exceedingly that these men should have detained you; but
they are faithful fools, and take no orders but from me or my dear
nephew. Had your majesty hinted your intention, orders to admit you
instantly would have been long since given. I proposed to introduce
you to-morrow to the duke, with due ceremony; but you are always
determined to take your servants by surprise."
Charles coloured a little, and felt himself rebuked; but when the
regent sprang to the ground and would have held his stirrup, he would
not permit him, taking the arm of De Vitry, and bowing his head
courteously, but without reply. At the gates, De Vitry drew back,
suffering the king and Ludovic to pass on; but they had hardly reached
the second gates, when the archway of the barbican and the drawbridge
were taken possession of by the French soldiers, who began gaily
talking to the Italians, though the latter understood not a word they
said. The Lombard nobles looked sullen and discontented; but they sat
still on their horses, little accustomed to the dashing impudence of
the French, and not knowing well what demeanour to assume toward men
who came as their friends and allies, but who so soon showed that they
considered themselves their masters.
In the mean time, each followed only by a page, the king and the count
regent walked on through several dim passages and lofty, ill-lighted
halls. Few attendants were observed about, and Ludovic took notice of
none of them till he reached a large and apparently more modern
saloon, where an old man, somewhat richly dressed, stood at a door on
the other side. Him he beckoned up, saying, "Tell my dear nephew,
Franconi, that I am bringing his Majesty the King of France to visit
him. This royal lord, considering the duke's ill health, dispenses
with the first visit. Will your majesty take a cup of wine after your
long ride? It will just give the old seneschal time to announce your
coming, lest such an unexpected honour should agitate the poor boy too
much."
"I thank you, my lord, I am not thirsty," answered the king, drily,
"and, for certain reasons given by my physicians, I drink but little
wine."
A slight and somewhat mocking smile passed over the hard features of
Ludovic, as if he suspected some fear in the mind of Charles, and
gloried, rather than felt shame, in an evil reputation. Both remained
silent; and in a few minutes the old man returned to usher them into
the presence of the young duke.
Oh! what a sad sight it was when the seneschal, now joined by two
inferior officers, threw open the door of a chamber at the end of the
adjacent corridor, and displayed to the eyes of Charles the faded form
of Giovan Galeazzo, the young Duke of Milan, stretched upon a
richly-ornamented bed, and covered with a dressing gown of cloth of
gold. The corpse of Inez de Castro seemed only the more ghastly from
the regal garments which decked her mouldering frame; and the
splendour of the apartment, the decoration of the bed, and the
glistening bedgown only gave additional wanness to the face of the
unhappy Duke of Milan. Once pre-eminently handsome, and with features
finely chiselled still, tall and perfectly formed, not yet twenty
years of age, he lay there a living skeleton. His cheek was pale as
ashes; his brow of marble whiteness; the thin but curling locks of jet
black hair falling wildly round his forehead; his lips hardly tinted
with red; and a preternatural light in his dark eyes, which gave more
terrible effect to the deathly pallor of his countenance.
A sweet, a wonderfully sweet smile played round his mouth when he saw
the young King of France; and he raised himself feebly on his elbow to
greet him as he approached.
"Welcome, my most noble lord, the king," he said in a weak voice;
"this is indeed most kind of your majesty to visit your poor cousin,
whom duty would have called to your feet long ago, had not sore
sickness kept him prisoner. But, alas! from this bed I cannot
move--never shall again, I fear."
Charles seated himself by the unhappy young man's side, and kindly
took his hand. They were first cousins; their age was nearly the same,
and well might the young monarch's bosom thrill with compassion and
sympathy for the unhappy duke.
"I grieve," said the king, "to see you so very ill, fair cousin; but I
trust you will be better soon, the heats of summer have probably
exhausted you, and----"
Giovan Galeazzo shook his head almost impatiently, and turned a
meaning look upon his uncle.
"Has this continued long?" asked the king.
"It began with my entrance into this accursed fortress," replied the
youth, "now some two years ago. It has been slow, but very, very
certain. Day by day, hour by hour, it has preyed upon me, till there
is not a sound part left."
"He fancies that the air disagrees with him," said Ludovic the Moor,
"but the physicians say it is not so; and we have had so many tumults
and insurrections in the land, that, for his own safety, it is needful
he should make his residence in some strong place."
"For my safety!" murmured the unhappy duke; "for my destruction.
Tumults, ay, tumults--would I could strike the instigator of them!
'Tis not alone the air, good uncle; 'tis the water also. 'Tis
everything I eat and drink in this hateful place."
"The caprice of sickness, believe me, nephew," answered Ludovic,
bending his heavy brows upon him. "You are too ill to have appetite."
"Ay, but I have thirst enough," replied the young man; "one must eat
and drink, you know, my lord the king. Would it were not so."
"It often happens, I have heard," said Charles, addressing himself to
the regent, "that what a sick man fancies will cure him, is of a
higher virtue than all medicines--what he believes destructive, will
destroy him. He says, I think, he was quite well till he came here."
"Oh, how well!" exclaimed the dying prince; "life was then a blessing
indeed, and now a curse. Each breath of air, each pleasant sight or
sound, went thrilling through my veins with the wild revelry of joy.
The song birds and the flowers were full of calm delight, and a
gallop over the breezy hill was like a madness of enjoyment. But
now--now--now---how is it all changed now! Verily, as the wise man
said, 'The song of the grasshopper is a burden.'"
"We must change all this," said Charles, greatly moved; "we must have
you forth from Pavia to some purer air. My own physician shall see
you."
The unfortunate young man shook his head, and again turned his eyes
upon his uncle with a meaning look.
"It is vain, my lord the king," he said, "or rather it is too late. My
sickness has obtained too great a mastery. The subtle enemy has got me
completely in his toils--the sickness I mean; he has got me in every
limb, in every vein; a little more and a little more each day--do you
understand me, sire?--and he will never loose his hold while I have a
breath or a pulsation left. But I have a wife, you know, and a
child--a fine boy--who is to be Duke of Milan. For them I crave your
royal protection. Let them be as your wards--indeed, I will make them
so. If--if," he continued, hesitating, and turning a furtive glance
towards his uncle; "if I could see your majesty alone, I would
communicate my last wishes."
"You shall--you shall see me," said Charles, with a gush of feeling
which brought the tears to his eyes. But those feelings were destined
to be still more excited.
While he yet spoke there was a noise without, and a woman's voice was
heard speaking in high and excited tones.
"I _will_ pass," she said, "who dares to oppose me? I will speak with
the noble King of France; he is my cousin--he will be my protector."
The moment after the door burst open, and a beautiful young girl--for
she was no more--entered, and threw herself at Charles's feet. Her
hair had fallen from its bandages, and flowed in beautiful profusion
over her neck and shoulders. Her dress, though rich, was torn, as if
main force had been employed to detain her, and her eyes were full of
the eagerness and fire of a late struggle. Ludovic the Moor turned
pale, and two men, who appeared at the door by which she entered, made
him a gesture of inquiry, as if asking him whether they should tear
her from the king's feet. Ludovic answered not but by a frown; and in
the meantime the princess poured forth her tale and her petitions in a
voice that trembled with anxiety, and hope, and terror.
"Protect us, oh, my lord the king," she cried, "protect us! Do not
raise me; I cannot rise, I will not rise, till you have promised to
protect us. Protect us from that man--from that base relative, false
guardian, traitor, subject. Look upon my husband, my lord; see him
lying there withered, feeble, powerless; and yet but two years
ago--oh, how beautiful and strong and active he was! What has done
this? What can have done it but drugs mixed with his daily food? Who
can have done it but he who seeks to open for himself a way to the
ducal seat of Milan? Why is he here confined, a captive in his own
dukedom, in his own city, in his own house? Why is he not suffered to
breathe the free air, to control his own actions, to name his own
officers and servants? Tumults! who instigates the tumults? The people
love their prince--have always loved him; cheers and applause went
wherever he trod; he passed fearlessly among them as among his
brethren, till his kind uncle there, in his tender care for his
safety, first stirred up a tumult by one of his own edicts, and then
shut his sovereign up in a prison in everything but name. Deliver us,
my lord king, from this captivity! Have compassion upon my lord, have
compassion upon me, have compassion upon our poor helpless child! If
ever your noble heart has burned at a tale of long and unredressed
wrong--if ever it has melted at a story of unmerited suffering--if
ever your eyes have overflowed at the thought of cruelty shown to a
woman and a child--as you are mighty, as you are noble, as you are a
Christian, deliver us from the heavy yoke we bear! As king, as
Christian, as knight, deliver us!"
"I will--I will," answered Charles, raising her and seating her by
him; "by every title you have given me, you have a right to demand my
aid, and I am bound to give it. My good cousin the count, this must be
seen to at once. I will tarry in Pavia for the purpose of inquiring
into these matters, and seeing them rightly regulated before I go
hence."
"As your majesty pleases," answered Ludovic, bowing his head with a
look of humility. "You will find, upon full inquiry, that I have acted
for my nephew's best interests. The lady, poor thing, is somewhat
prejudiced, if not distraught; but all these matters can be made
perfectly clear when you have time to listen."
The young duke gave him a look of disdain, and she answered, "Ay,
perfectly clear, count, if the king will but hear both parties."
"I will, dear lady, doubt it not," answered Charles, tenderly. "Be
comforted. No time shall be lost. My cousin here shall be removed to a
purer air; my own physician shall visit him. Be comforted."
A smile--the first smile of hope that had visited her lip for many a
day--came upon the poor girl's face. "Thank you--oh, thank you, sire,"
she said.
Well had she stopped there! But she was very young, had no experience
of the omnipotence of selfishness with man. Her fate had been a very
sad one. She never sang to her child but with tears; and yet all had
not taught her that oceans of blood would not bar man from an object
of great desire.
"I cannot be comforted, my lord," she answered, "notwithstanding all
your generous promises--nay, notwithstanding even their fulfilment,
while my poor father, against whom your mighty power is bent--I speak
of Alphonso, King of Naples--is in such a case of peril."
Charles's brow darkened; the compassionate look passed away; but still
the unhappy girl went on, crushing out in the bosom of the young king
the spark of pity which her melancholy situation had lighted. "My poor
father, my lord," she continued, "has done nothing to call down your
indignation upon him. Let me entreat your mercy on him; let me beseech
you to pause and consider ere you ruin a man--a king who has never
injured you--nay, who is ready to submit to any terms you are pleased
to dictate. Oh, my noble lord, hear me; let me plead not only for my
husband and myself, and my child, but for my father and my brother
also."
Ludovic the Moor, one of the most subtle readers of the human heart
that the world has ever produced, heard her first reference to her
father with delight; and his eyes were instantly turned towards the
young king's face. He traced but too easily the change of feelings
going on. He saw the first spark of irritation produced by the
unwelcome topic: he saw her gradually fanning it into a flame by her
efforts to change the settled and selfish purpose of the king. He saw
the struggle between the sense of justice and a favourite scheme; he
saw the anger which a consciousness of wrong, together with a
resolution to persevere in wrong invariably produces, growing up in
Charles's bosom; and he let her go on without a word, till he
perceived that the effect was complete. Then suddenly interposing, he
said, "May it please your majesty, such exciting scenes are too much
for the feeble health of my poor nephew; I must care for it, if this
lady does not. You have heard all she has to say, and if you will mark
the duke's countenance, you will perceive, from the change which has
taken place, that further discussion now would be dangerous if not
fatal. I will therefore beseech your majesty to give this matter
further consideration at a future day, and to visit the poor dwelling
I have prepared for you."
The king rose; and the poor duchess, perceiving too late the error she
had committed, bent down her head upon her hands and wept. Charles
took a kindly leave of the young duke, removing the further
consideration of his case to that "more convenient season" which never
comes, and merely saying to the poor helpless girl, who had pleaded
for her father as well as for her husband, "Be comforted, madam. We
will see to your protection and future fate."
She raised not her eyes, but shook her head sadly, and the king
departed. We all know that when we are dissatisfied with ourselves we
are dissatisfied with others; and the young King of France felt as if
the duchess had injured him in seeking a justice that he would not
grant.
He walked hastily onward, then, somewhat in advance of the count
regent. Ludovic followed more slowly, with a slight smile upon his
countenance; and the door closed upon the young Duke of Milan and his
fate for ever.
Through the long corridor, into the great reception-room, and across
it, sped the King of France, displeased with himself and every one.
The door was held open by the seneschal till Ludovic had passed it;
but the Moor lingered a moment upon the threshold, gave a quick glance
around, and whispered in the ear of the seneschal, "Give him a double
portion in his wine tonight. We must have no more conferences." Then
following the monarch, with a thoughtful look, he aided him to mount
his horse, and took his place by his side. Rumours spread through the
City of Pavia on the following day that Giovan Galeazzo was in a dying
state, and Ludovic confirmed them to the King of France, saying, "I
feared the excitement would be too much for his weakened frame."
That night, in the midst of a joyous banquet, the heavy bell of the
great church was heard tolling slowly, announcing that another Duke of
Milan had gone to his tomb.