The little Dauphin is sick; the truth is he's dying.... In every church
in the Kingdom, the blessèd Sacrament is displayed night and day, and
huge candles burn all the time for the recovery of the royal Child. The
roads around the old residence are miserable and silent, the clocks
don't chime, and the coaches go at walking pace.... Around the palace,
through the railings, the curious bourgeoisie are watching some
gold-draped, potbellied Swiss who are talking, self-importantly, in the
courtyards.
The whole castle is troubled.... Chamberlains, and major-domos, scurry
up and down the marble stairways.... The galleries are filled with
silk-clad pages, and courtesans flitting from group to group seeking
some whisper of news.... On the grand stairs, the weeping
ladies-in-waiting hold themselves respectfully, and delicately wipe
their eyes with finely embroidered handkerchiefs.
In the orangery, there were numerous gatherings of enrobed doctors.
They can be seen through the windows adjusting their long, black
sleeves and carefully rearranging their wigs.... The Dauphin's governor
and his equerry are pacing about in front of the door, awaiting the
doctors' prognostications. Some kitchen boys walk past them, without
bowing. The equerry swears like a trooper; while the governor recites
some verses by Horace.... Meanwhile, a long, plaintive whinny was heard
from down in the stables. It was the young Dauphin's chestnut, now
forgotten by its grooms, calling mournfully over its empty manger.
And the King? Where is His Majesty the King?... The King is all alone
in a room, at the far side of the castle.... Royal Highnesses don't
like to be seen crying.... It is another thing altogether with the
Queen.... Sitting by the bedside of the little Dauphin, her beautiful
face is bathed in tears, as she sobs out loud, in front of everybody,
just as any commoner would.
In his lace-covered sick-bed, the little Dauphin, whiter than the
cushions he lies on, has his eyes closed and looks fast asleep. But he
is not. The little Dauphin turns towards his mother and seeing her in
tears, says:
--Madame, why are you crying? Do you really think that I am dying?
The queen tries to answer, but the sobbing chokes her words.
--Don't upset yourself, madame. You are forgetting that I am the
Dauphin and Dauphins can't die just like that....
The Queen's sobs intensify and the little Dauphin begins to feel afraid.
--Hang on, he says, I don't want death to come and take me, and I know
just how to stop him from getting to me.... Have forty very strong
soldiers mount guard around my bed!... Have a hundred big cannons ready
under our window, tapers lit and fuses primed, day and night! And it's
hard luck death if he dares to come near me!...
To please the Royal child, the Queen gives the order. Soon, big cannons
are heard rolling in the courtyard, and forty tall German mercenaries,
halberds at the ready, come and position themselves around the bed
chamber. The little Dauphin claps his hands when he sees the old
soldiers and their grey moustaches. He recognises one of them and calls
out:
--Lorrain! Lorrain!
The soldier steps forward towards the bed:
--I really do like you, my dear Lorrain.... Have you brought your big
sword.... If death comes for me, you will be sure to kill him, won't
you?
Lorrain replied:
--Yes, Sire....
And two big tears run slowly down his tanned cheeks.
Just then, the Chaplain comes towards the young Dauphin and whispers to
him for some time, showing him a crucifix. The little Dauphin listens,
and looks astounded, and then, suddenly stops him:
--I can understand what you are telling me, Monsieur priest, but
couldn't my little friend, Beppo die in my place, for which service we
could give him a lot of money?...
The Chaplain continues the whispering and the little Dauphin looks more
and more astonished.
As soon as the Chaplain finishes, the little Dauphin gives a huge sigh
and says:
--Everything you tell me is so sad, Monsieur Priest, but if there's one
thing that consoles me, it's that up there amongst the stars in
paradise, I will still be the Dauphin.... I am sure that the Good Lord
is my cousin and won't forget to treat me according to my rank.
Then, turning towards his mother, he adds:
--Have my best clothes brought to me; my white ermine doublet and my
velvet court shoes. I want to make myself nice for the angels and enter
paradise dressed as a Dauphin should.
For a third time, the Chaplain leans towards the little Dauphin and
whispers to him for some time.... In the middle of his discourse, the
Royal child interrupts him angrily:
--Well then, he cries, it's completely pointless being the Dauphin!
The little Dauphin has heard enough, and he turns towards the wall
sobbing bitterly.