38
Henrietta Maria and Mazarin.
The cardinal rose, and advanced in haste to receive the
queen of England. He showed the more respect to this queen,
deprived of every mark of pomp and stripped of followers, as
he felt some self-reproach for his own want of heart and his
avarice. But supplicants for favor know how to accommodate
the expression of their features, and the daughter of Henry
IV. smiled as she advanced to meet a man she hated and
despised.
"Ah!" said Mazarin to himself, "what a sweet face; does she
come to borrow money of me?"
And he threw an uneasy glance at his strong box; he even
turned inside the bevel of the magnificent diamond ring, the
brilliancy of which drew every eye upon his hand, which
indeed was white and handsome.
"Your eminence," said the august visitor, "it was my first
intention to speak of the matters that have brought me here
to the queen, my sister, but I have reflected that political
affairs are more especially the concern of men."
"Madame," said Mazarin, "your majesty overwhelms me with
flattering distinction."
"He is very gracious," thought the queen; "can he have
guessed my errand?"
"Give," continued the cardinal, "your commands to the most
respectful of your servants."
"Alas, sir," replied the queen, "I have lost the habit of
commanding and have adopted instead that of making
petitions. I am here to petition you, too happy should my
prayer be favorably heard."
"I am listening, madame, with the greatest interest," said
Mazarin.
"Your eminence, it concerns the war which the king, my
husband, is now sustaining against his rebellious subjects.
You are perhaps ignorant that they are fighting in England,"
added she, with a melancholy smile, "and that in a short
time they will fight in a much more decided fashion than
they have done hitherto."
"I am completely ignorant of it, madame," said the cardinal,
accompanying his words with a slight shrug of the shoulders;
"alas, our own wars quite absorb the time and the mind of a
poor, incapable, infirm old minister like me."
"Well, then, your eminence," said the queen, "I must inform
you that Charles I., my husband, is on the eve of a decisive
engagement. In case of a check" (Mazarin made a slight
movement), "one must foresee everything; in the case of a
check, he desires to retire into France and to live here as
a private individual. What do you say to this project?"
The cardinal had listened without permitting a single fibre
of his face to betray what he felt, and his smile remained
as it ever was -- false and flattering; and when the queen
finished speaking, he said:
"Do you think, madame, that France, agitated and disturbed
as it is, would be a safe retreat for a dethroned king? How
will the crown, which is scarce firmly set on the head of
Louis XIV., support a double weight?"
"The weight was not so heavy when I was in peril,"
interrupted the queen, with a sad smile, "and I ask no more
for my husband than has been done for me; you see that we
are very humble monarchs, sir."
"Oh, you, madame," the cardinal hastened to say, in order to
cut short the explanation he foresaw was coming, "with
regard to you, that is another thing. A daughter of Henry
IV., of that great, that sublime sovereign ---- "
"All which does not prevent you refusing hospitality to his
son-in-law, sir! Nevertheless, you ought to remember that
that great, that sublime monarch, when proscribed at one
time, as my husband may be, demanded aid from England and
England accorded it to him; and it is but just to say that
Queen Elizabeth was not his niece."
"Peccato!" said Mazarin, writhing beneath this simple
eloquence, "your majesty does not understand me; you judge
my intentions wrongly, and that is partly because,
doubtless, I explain myself in French."
"Speak Italian, sir. Ere the cardinal, your predecessor,
sent our mother, Marie de Medicis, to die in exile, she
taught us that language. If anything yet remains of that
great, that sublime king, Henry, of whom you have just
spoken, he would be much surprised at so little pity for his
family being united to such a profound admiration of
himself."
The perspiration stood in large drops on Mazarin's brow.
"That admiration is, on the contrary, so great, so real,
madame," returned Mazarin, without noticing the change of
language offered to him by the queen, "that if the king,
Charles I. -- whom Heaven protect from evil! -- came into
France, I would offer him my house -- my own house; but,
alas! it would be but an unsafe retreat. Some day the people
will burn that house, as they burned that of the Marechal
d'Ancre. Poor Concino Concini! And yet he but desired the
good of the people."
"Yes, my lord, like yourself!" said the queen, ironically.
Mazarin pretended not to understand the double meaning of
his own sentence, but continued to compassionate the fate of
Concino Concini.
"Well then, your eminence," said the queen, becoming
impatient, "what is your answer?"
"Madame," cried Mazarin, more and more moved, "will your
majesty permit me to give you counsel?"
"Speak, sir," replied the queen; "the counsels of so prudent
a man as yourself ought certainly to be available."
"Madame, believe me, the king ought to defend himself to the
last."
"He has done so, sir, and this last battle, which he
encounters with resources much inferior to those of the
enemy, proves that he will not yield without a struggle; but
in case he is beaten?"
"Well, madame, in that case, my advice -- I know that I am
very bold to offer advice to your majesty -- my advice is
that the king should not leave his kingdom. Absent kings are
very soon forgotten; if he passes over into France his cause
is lost."
"But," persisted the queen, "if such be your advice and you
have his interest at heart, send him help of men and money,
for I can do nothing for him; I have sold even to my last
diamond to aid him. If I had had a single ornament left, I
should have bought wood this winter to make a fire for my
daughter and myself."
"Oh, madame," said Mazarin, "your majesty knows not what you
ask. On the day when foreign succor follows in the train of
a king to replace him on his throne, it is an avowal that he
no longer possesses the help and love of his own subjects."
"To the point, sir," said the queen, "to the point, and
answer me, yes or no; if the king persists in remaining in
England will you send him succor? If he comes to France will
you accord him hospitality? What do you intend to do?
Speak."
"Madame," said the cardinal, affecting an effusive frankness
of speech, "I shall convince your majesty, I trust, of my
devotion to you and my desire to terminate an affair which
you have so much at heart. After which your majesty will, I
think, no longer doubt my zeal in your behalf."
The queen bit her lips and moved impatiently on her chair.
"Well, what do you propose to do?" she, said at length;
"come, speak."
"I will go this instant and consult the queen, and we will
refer the affair at once to parliament."
"With which you are at war -- is it not so? You will charge
Broussel to report it. Enough, sir, enough. I understand you
or rather, I am wrong. Go to the parliament, for it was from
this parliament, the enemy of monarchs, that the daughter of
the great, the sublime Henry IV., whom you so much admire,
received the only relief this winter which prevented her
from dying of hunger and cold!"
And with these words Henrietta rose in majestic indignation,
whilst the cardinal, raising his hands clasped toward her,
exclaimed, "Ah, madame, madame, how little you know me, mon
Dieu!"
But Queen Henrietta, without even turning toward him who
made these hypocritical pretensions, crossed the cabinet,
opened the door for herself and passing through the midst of
the cardinal's numerous guards, courtiers eager to pay
homage, the luxurious show of a competing royalty, she went
and took the hand of De Winter, who stood apart in
isolation. Poor queen, already fallen! Though all bowed
before her, as etiquette required, she had now but a single
arm on which she could lean.
"It signifies little," said Mazarin, when he was alone. "It
gave me pain and it was an ungracious part to play, but I
have said nothing either to the one or to the other.
Bernouin!"
Bernouin entered.
"See if the young man with the black doublet and the short
hair, who was with me just now, is still in the palace."
Bernouin went out and soon returned with Comminges, who was
on guard.
"Your eminence," said Comminges, "as I was re-conducting the
young man for whom you have asked, he approached the glass
door of the gallery, and gazed intently upon some object,
doubtless the picture by Raphael, which is opposite the
door. He reflected for a second and then descended the
stairs. I believe I saw him mount a gray horse and leave the
palace court. But is not your eminence going to the queen?"
"For what purpose?"
"Monsieur de Guitant, my uncle, has just told me that her
majesty had received news of the army."
"It is well; I will go."
Comminges had seen rightly, and Mordaunt had really acted as
he had related. In crossing the gallery parallel to the
large glass gallery, he perceived De Winter, who was waiting
until the queen had finished her negotiation.
At this sight the young man stopped short, not in admiration
of Raphael's picture, but as if fascinated at the sight of
some terrible object. His eyes dilated and a shudder ran
through his body. One would have said that he longed to
break through the wall of glass which separated him from his
enemy; for if Comminges had seen with what an expression of
hatred the eyes of this young man were fixed upon De Winter,
he would not have doubted for an instant that the Englishman
was his eternal foe.
But he stopped, doubtless to reflect; for instead of
allowing his first impulse, which had been to go straight to
Lord de Winter, to carry him away, he leisurely descended
the staircase, left the palace with his head down, mounted
his horse, which he reined in at the corner of the Rue
Richelieu, and with his eyes fixed on the gate, waited until
the queen's carriage had left the court.
He had not long to wait, for the queen scarcely remained a
quarter of an hour with Mazarin, but this quarter of an hour
of expectation appeared a century to him. At last the heavy
machine, which was called a chariot in those days, came out,
rumbling against the gates, and De Winter, still on
horseback, bent again to the door to converse with her
majesty.
The horses started on a trot and took the road to the
Louvre, which they entered. Before leaving the convent of
the Carmelites, Henrietta had desired her daughter to attend
her at the palace, which she had inhabited for a long time
and which she had only left because their poverty seemed to
them more difficult to bear in gilded chambers.
Mordaunt followed the carriage, and when he had watched it
drive beneath the sombre arches he went and stationed
himself under a wall over which the shadow was extended, and
remained motionless, amidst the moldings of Jean Goujon,
like a bas-relievo, representing an equestrian statue.
