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
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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.”
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“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.”