scorn it and reject it.”
“Therefore you ought to assist in establishing a better.”
“What is that?”
“The restoration of Charles II., for example.”
“Good heavens!” cried Mazarin, “does the poor prince flatter
himself with that chimera?”
“Yes, he does,” replied the young king, terrified at the
difficulties opposed to this project, which he fancied he
could perceive in the infallible eye of his minister; “he
only asks for a million to carry out his purpose.”
“Is that all — a little million, if you please!” said the
cardinal, ironically, with an effort to conquer his Italian
accent. “A little million, if you please, brother! Bah! a
family of mendicants!”
“Cardinal,” said Louis, raising his head, “that family of
mendicants is a branch of my family.”
“Are you rich enough to give millions to other people, sire?
Have you millions to throw away?”
“Oh!” replied Louis XIV., with great pain, which he,
however, by a strong effort, prevented from appearing on his
countenance; — “oh! yes, monsieur le cardinal, I am well
aware I am poor, and yet the crown of France is worth a
million, and to perform a good action I would pledge my
crown if it were necessary. I could find Jews who would be
willing to lend me a million.”
“So, sire, you say you want a million?” said Mazarin.
“Yes, monsieur, I say so.”
“You are mistaken, greatly mistaken, sire; you want much
more than that, — Bernouin! — you shall see, sire, how
much you really want.”
“What, cardinal!” said the king, “are you going to consult a
lackey about my affairs?”
“Bernouin!” cried the cardinal again, without appearing to
remark the humiliation of the young prince. “Come here,
Bernouin, and tell me the figures I gave you just now.”
“Cardinal, cardinal! did you not hear me?” said Louis,
turning pale with anger.
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“Do not be angry, sire; I deal openly with the affairs of
your majesty. Every one in France knows that; my books are
as open as day. What did I tell you to do just now,
Bernouin?”
“Your eminence commanded me to cast up an account.”
“You did it, did you not?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“To verify the amount of which his majesty, at this moment,
stands in need. Did I not tell you so? Be frank, my friend.”
“Your eminence said so.”
“Well, what sum did I say I wanted?”
“Forty-five millions, I think.”
“And what sum could we find, after collecting all our
resources?”
“Thirty-nine millions two hundred and sixty thousand.”
“That is correct, Bernouin; that is all I wanted to know.
Leave us now,” said the cardinal, fixing his brilliant eye
upon the young king, who sat mute with stupefaction.
“However —- ” stammered the king.
“What, do you still doubt, sire?” said the cardinal. “Well,
here is a proof of what I said.”
And Mazarin drew from under his bolster the paper covered
with figures, which he presented to the king, who turned
away his eyes, his vexation was so deep.
“Therefore, as it is a million you want, sire, and that
million is not set down here, it is forty-six millions your
majesty stands in need of. Well I don’t think that any Jews
in the world would lend such a sum, even upon the crown of
France.”
The king, clenching his hands beneath his ruffles, pushed
away his chair.
“So it must be then!” said he, “my brother the king of
England will die of hunger.”
“Sire,” replied Mazarin, in the same tone, “remember this
proverb, which I give you as the expression of the soundest
policy: `Rejoice at being poor when your neighbor is poor
likewise.'”
Louis meditated for a few moments, with an inquisitive
glance directed to the paper, one end of which remained
under the bolster.
“Then,” said he, “it is impossible to comply with my demand
for money, my lord cardinal, is it?”
“Absolutely, sire.”
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“Remember, this will secure me a future enemy, if he succeed
in recovering his crown without my assistance.”
“If your majesty only fears that, you may be quite at ease,”
replied Mazarin, eagerly.