“Yes, sire.”
“Ah,” said the king, “let him come in.”
The officer entered. The king made a sign, and the gentleman
and the valet retired. Louis followed them with his eyes
until they had shut the door, and when the tapestries had
fallen behind them, — “You remind me by your presence,
monsieur, of something I had forgotten to recommend to you,
that is to say, the most absolute discretion.”
“Oh! sire, why does your majesty give yourself the trouble
of making me such a recommendation? It is plain you do not
know me.”
“Yes, monsieur, that is true. I know that you are discreet;
but as I had prescribed nothing —- ”
The officer bowed. “Has your majesty nothing else to say to
me?”
“No, monsieur; you may retire.”
“Shall I obtain permission not to do so till I have spoken
to the king, sire?”
“What have you to say to me? Explain yourself, monsieur.”
“Sire, a thing without importance to you, but which
interests me greatly. Pardon me, then, for speaking of it.
Without urgency, without necessity, I never would have done
it, and I would have disappeared, mute and insignificant as
I always have been.”
“How! Disappeared! I do not understand you, monsieur.”
“Sire, in a word,” said the officer, “I am come to ask for
my discharge from your majesty’s service.”
The king made a movement of surprise, but the officer
remained as motionless as a statue.
“Your discharge — yours, monsieur? and for how long a time,
I pray?”
“Why, forever, sire.”
“What, you are desirous of quitting my service, monsieur?”
said Louis, with an expression that revealed something more
than surprise.
“Sire, I regret to say that I am.”
“Impossible!”
Page 84
Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
“It is so, however, sire. I am getting old; I have worn
harness now thirty-five years; my poor shoulders are tired;
I feel that I must give place to the young. I don’t belong
to this age; I have still one foot in the old one; it
results that everything is strange in my eyes, everything
astonishes and bewilders me. In short, I have the honor to
ask your majesty for my discharge.”
“Monsieur,” said the king, looking at the officer, who wore
his uniform with an ease that would have caused envy in a
young man, “you are stronger and more vigorous than I am.”
“Oh!” replied the officer, with an air of false modesty,
“your majesty says so because I still have a good eye and a
tolerably firm foot — because I can still ride a horse, and
my mustache is black; but, sire, vanity of vanities all that
— illusions all that — appearance, smoke, sire! I have
still a youthful air, it is true, but I feel old, and within
six months I am certain I shall be broken down, gouty,
impotent. Therefore, then sire —- ”
“Monsieur,” interrupted the king, “remember your words of
yesterday. You said to me in this very place where you now
are, that you were endowed with the best health of any man
in France; that fatigue was unknown to you! that you did not
mind spending whole days and nights at your post. Did you
tell me that, monsieur, or not? Try and recall, monsieur.”
The officer sighed. “Sire,” said he, “old age is boastful;
and it is pardonable for old men to praise themselves when
others no longer do it. It is very possible I said that; but
the fact is, sire, I am very much fatigued, and request
permission to retire.”
“Monsieur,” said the king, advancing towards the officer
with a gesture full of majesty, “you are not assigning me
the true reason. You wish to quit my service, it may be
true, but you disguise from me the motive of your retreat.”
“Sire, believe that —- ”
“I believe what I see, monsieur; I see a vigorous, energetic
man, full of presence of mind, the best soldier in France,
perhaps; and this personage cannot persuade me the least in
the world that you stand in need of rest.”
“Ah! sire,” said the lieutenant, with bitterness, “what
praise! Indeed, your majesty confounds me! Energetic,