Man in the Iron Mask by Dumas, Alexandre part two

“The Chevalier de Lorraine,” said the King,- “that dismal fellow?”

“He is my mortal enemy. While that man lives in my household, where Monsieur retains him and delegates his powers to him, I shall be the most miserable woman in this kingdom.”

“So,” said the King, slowly, “you call your brother of England a better friend than I am?”

“Actions speak for themselves, Sire.”

“And you would prefer going to ask assistance there-”

“To my own country!” said she, with pride; “yes, Sire.”

“You are the grandchild of Henry IV as well as myself, my friend. Cousin and brother-in-law, does not that amount pretty nearly to brother-german?”

“Then,” said Henrietta, “act!”

“Let us form an alliance.”

“Begin.”

“I have, you say, unjustly exiled De Guiche.”

“Oh, yes,” said she, blushing.

“De Guiche shall return.”

“So far, well.”

“And now you say that I am wrong in having in your household the Chevalier de Lorraine, who gives Monsieur ill advice respecting you?”

“Remember well what I tell you, Sire: the Chevalier de Lorraine some day- Observe, if ever I come to an ill end, I accuse beforehand the Chevalier de Lorraine; he has a soul capable of any crime!”

“The Chevalier de Lorraine shall no longer annoy you; I promise you that.”

“Then that will be a true preliminary of alliance, Sire,- I sign; but since you have done your part, tell me what shall be mine.”

“Instead of embroiling me with your brother Charles, you must make him my more intimate friend than ever.”

“That is very easy.”

“Oh! not quite so much so as you may think, for in ordinary friendship persons embrace or exercise hospitality, and that only costs a kiss or a return,- easy expenses; but in political friendship-”

“Ah! it’s a political friendship, is it?”

“Yes, my sister; and then, instead of embraces and feasts, it is soldiers- it is soldiers all living and well equipped- that we must serve up to our friend; vessels we must offer, all armed with cannons and stored with provisions. It hence results that we have not always our coffers in a fit state to form such friendships.”

“Ah! you are quite right,” said Madame; “the coffers of the King of England have been very sonorous for some time.”

“But you, my sister, who have so much influence over your brother,- you can obtain more than an ambassador ever could obtain.”

“To effect that I must go to London, my dear brother.”

“I have thought so,” replied the King, eagerly; “and I have said to myself that such a voyage would do your spirits good.”

“Only,” interrupted Madame, “it is possible I should fail. The King of England has dangerous counsellors.”

“Counsellors, do you say?”

“Precisely. If, by chance, your Majesty had any intention- I am only supposing so- of asking Charles II his alliance for a war-”

“For a war?”

“Yes; well, then the counsellors of the King, who are to the number of seven,- Mademoiselle Stewart, Mademoiselle Wells, Mademoiselle Gwyn, Miss Orchay, Mademoiselle Zunga, Miss Daws, and the Countess of Castelmaine,- will represent to the King that war costs a great deal of money; that it is far better to give balls and suppers at Hampton Court than to equip vessels of the line at Portsmouth and Greenwich.”

“And then Your negotiations will fail?”

“Oh! those ladies cause all negotiations to fail that they don’t make themselves.”

“Do you know the idea that has struck me, Sister?”

“No; tell me what it is.”

“It is that by searching well around you, you might perhaps find a female counsellor to take with you to your brother whose eloquence might paralyze the ill-will of the seven others.”

“That is really an idea, Sire; and I will search.”

“You will find what you want.”

“I hope so.”

“A pretty person is necessary; an agreeable face is better than an ugly one, is it not?”

“Most assuredly.”

“An animated, lively, audacious character?”

“Certainly.”

“Nobility,- that is, enough to enable her to approach the King without awkwardness; little enough, so that she may not trouble herself about the dignity of her race.”

“Quite just.”

“And who knows a little English.”

“Mon Dieu! why, some one,” cried Madame, “like Mademoiselle de Keroualle, for instance!”

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