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Chicot the Jester
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“I know where I will stop; whatever complaints I have against the king, I will never lift a hand against him; but I will let others do what they like, and I will follow M. d’Anjou to protect him in case of need.”
“My dear comte,” said Monsoreau, “the Duc d’Anjou is perfidious and a traitor; a coward, capable, from jealous or fear, of sacrificing his most faithful servant – his most devoted friend; abandon him, take a friend’s counsel, pass the day in your little house at Vincennes, go where you like, except to the procession of the Fête Dieu.”
“But why do you follow the duke yourself?”
“For reasons which concern my honor. I have need of him for a little while longer.”
“Well! that is like me; for things which concern my honor I must follow the duke.”
The Comte de Monsoreau pressed his hand, and they parted.
The next morning Monsoreau announced to his wife his approaching departure for Compiègne, and gave all the necessary orders. Diana heard the news with joy. She knew from her husband of the duel which was arranged between Bussy and D’Epernon, but had no fear for the result, and looked forward to it with pride. Bussy had presented himself in the morning to the Duc d’Anjou, who, seeing him so frank, loyal, and devoted, felt some remorse; but two things combated this return of good feeling – firstly, the great empire Bussy had over him, as every powerful mind has over a weak one, and which annoyed him; and, secondly, the love of Bussy for Diana, which awoke all the tortures of jealousy in his heart. Monsoreau, it was true, inspired him with equal dislike and fear, but he thought, “Either Bussy will accompany me and aid my triumph, and then if I triumph, I do not care for Monsoreau, or Bussy will abandon me, and then I owe him nothing, and I will abandon him in return.”
When they were in the church, the duke saw Rémy enter, and going up to his master, slide a note into his hand.
“It is from her,” thought he; “she sends him word that her husband is leaving Paris.”
Bussy put the note into his hat, opened, and read it, and the prince saw his face radiant with joy and love. The duke looked round; if Monsoreau had been there, perhaps he would not have had patience to wait till the evening to denounce Bussy.
The mass over, they returned to the Louvre, where a collation waited for the king in his room, and for his gentlemen in the gallery. On entering the Louvre, Bussy approached the duke.
“Pardon, monseigneur,” said he, “but can I say two words to you?”
“Are you in a hurry?”
“Very much so.”
“Will it not do during the procession? we shall walk side by side.”
“Monseigneur must excuse me, but what I wished to ask is, that I need not accompany you.”
“Why so?”
“Monseigneur, to-morrow is a great day, and I would wish to retire to-day to my little house at Vincennes.”
“Then you do not join the procession with the king and court?”
“No, monseigneur, if you will excuse me.”
“Will you not rejoin me at St. Geneviève?”
“Monseigneur, I wish to have the whole day to myself.”
“But if anything should occur when I have need of my friends?”
“As monseigneur would only want me to draw my sword against my king, it is a double reason for excusing myself,” replied Bussy; “my sword is engaged against M. d’Epernon.”
Monsoreau had told the duke the night before that he might reckon on Bussy; this change, therefore, must have been occasioned by Diana’s note.
“Then,” said the duke, “you abandon your chief and master?”
“Monseigneur, he who is about to risk his life in a bloody duel, as ours will be, has but one master, and it is to Him my last devotions will be paid.”
“You know that I am playing for a throne, and you leave me.”
“Monseigneur, I have worked enough for you; I will work again to-morrow, do not ask me for more than my life.”
“It is well!” said the duke, in a hollow voice, “you are free; go, M. de Bussy.”
Bussy, without caring for the prince’s evident anger, ran down the staircase of the Louvre, and went rapidly to his own house.
The duke called Aurilly. “Well! he has condemned himself,” said he.
“Does he not follow you?”
“No.”
“He goes to the rendezvous?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is for this evening?”
“It is.”
“Is M. de Monsoreau warned?”
“Of the rendezvous – yes; but not yet of the man.”
“Then you have decided to sacrifice the count?”
“I have determined to revenge myself; I fear now but one thing.”
“What is that?”
“That Monsoreau will trust to his strength, and that Bussy will escape him.”
“Reassure yourself, monseigneur.”
“Why?”
“Is M. de Bussy irrevocably condemned?”
“Yes, mordieu! A man who dictates to me – who takes away from me her whom I was seeking for – who is a sort of lion, of whom I am less the master than the keeper – yes, Aurilly, he is condemned without mercy.”
“Well, then, be easy, for if he escape Monsoreau, he will not escape from another.”
“And who is that?”
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Да, первый рассказ из сборника, что я успела прочитать, что надо! И написано хорошо, и содержание необычное, но жизненное. Очень понравилось, хотя там...
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