long time; therefore I am delighted to be able thus publicly
to mark my gratitude and my esteem.”
“Permit me, madame,” said D’Artagnan, “to reserve a portion
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for my friend; like myself” (he laid an emphasis on these
words) “an ancient musketeer of the company of Treville; he
has done wonders.”
“His name?” asked the queen.
“In the regiment,” said D’Artagnan, “he is called Porthos”
(the queen started), “but his true name is the Chevalier du
Vallon.”
“De Bracieux de Pierrefonds,” added Porthos.
“These names are too numerous for me to remember them all,
and I will content myself with the first,” said the queen,
graciously. Porthos bowed. At this moment the coadjutor was
announced; a cry of surprise ran through the royal
assemblage. Although the coadjutor had preached that same
morning it was well known that he leaned much to the side of
the Fronde; and Mazarin, in requesting the archbishop of
Paris to make his nephew preach, had evidently had the
intention of administering to Monsieur de Retz one of those
Italian kicks he so much enjoyed giving.
The fact was, in leaving Notre Dame the coadjutor had
learned the event of the day. Although almost engaged to the
leaders of the Fronde he had not gone so far but that
retreat was possible should the court offer him the
advantages for which he was ambitious and to which the
coadjutorship was but a stepping-stone. Monsieur de Retz
wished to become archbishop in his uncle’s place, and
cardinal, like Mazarin; and the popular party could with
difficulty accord him favors so entirely royal. He therefore
hastened to the palace to congratulate the queen on the
battle of Lens, determined beforehand to act with or against
the court, as his congratulations were well or ill received.
The coadjutor possessed, perhaps, as much wit as all those
put together who were assembled at the court to laugh at
him. His speech, therefore, was so well turned, that in
spite of the great wish felt by the courtiers to laugh, they
could find no point on which to vent their ridicule. He
concluded by saying that he placed his feeble influence at
her majesty’s command.
During the whole time he was speaking, the queen appeared to
be well pleased with the coadjutor’s harangue; but
terminating as it did with such a phrase, the only one which
could be caught at by the jokers, Anne turned around and
directed a glance toward her favorites, which announced that
she delivered up the coadjutor to their tender mercies.
Immediately the wits of the court plunged into satire.
Nogent-Beautin, the fool of the court, exclaimed that “the
queen was very happy to have the succor of religion at such
a moment.” This caused a universal burst of laughter. The
Count de Villeroy said that “he did not know how any fear
could be entertained for a moment, when the court had, to
defend itself against the parliament and the citizens of
Paris, his holiness the coadjutor, who by a signal could
raise an army of curates, church porters and vergers.”
The Marechal de la Meilleraie added that in case the
coadjutor should appear on the field of battle it would be a
pity that he should not be distinguished in the melee by
wearing a red hat, as Henry IV. had been distinguished by
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his white plume at the battle of Ivry.
During this storm, Gondy, who had it in his power to make it
most unpleasant for the jesters, remained calm and stern.
The queen at last asked him if he had anything to add to the
fine discourse he had just made to her.
“Yes, madame,” replied the coadjutor; “I have to beg you to
reflect twice ere you cause a civil war in the kingdom.”
The queen turned her back and the laughing recommenced.
The coadjutor bowed and left the palace, casting upon the
cardinal such a glance as is best understood by mortal foes.
That glance was so sharp that it penetrated the heart of
Mazarin, who, reading in it a declaration of war, seized
D’Artagnan by the arm and said: