The Court Jester

The princess accepted her new mother as a matter of course. This marriage was an affair of mere business; the emperor needed money with which to fight Charles the Eighth of France, and money he would obtain by his marriage with this lady, who was far inferior to her predecessor, Mary of Burgundy, both in education and beauty. Although Frederick had claimed to have discovered the secret of turning quicksilver into gold, he did not seem to have left the recipe behind him, for the purse of his son was always gaunt and longing to be filled.

The Lady Clotilde had not returned to France, as it had been her intention to do; she had found that the climate of Austria agreed with her health to a degree little short of marvelous. She said that there were certain viands that she would not dare to touch in Burgundy, Brittany, or France, but which in the German empire did her all the good in the world. Of course, she was going away soon, next month, or surely the month after; but still the Lady Clotilde lingered on.

Philibert, finding greater advantages here for a young gentleman of rank than in his own country, also remained. It seemed that the Count de Bresse, his father, absorbed in his own schemes – and they were not always innocent ones – had almost forgotten that he owned a son, and the boy was well contented to be thus neglected, being perfectly happy in his new surroundings. In those days nations were almost continually engaged in some kind of turmoil, either fighting each other or trying to make peace, and Austria had its share of such proceedings; but at this time the principal characters of this story saw only the pleasant side of life. Antoine became more and more proficient in his music; Philibert became quite scholarly at the court of this emperor, who surrounded himself with scholars; Le Glorieux amused himself and everybody else, while the princess was put under the care of her tutors, and, taking a leaf from her father's book, was always affable and gracious to her inferiors.

CHAPTER IX

PHILIBERT IN DANGER

Three years had passed. Philibert and Antoine now were tall youths, and Marguerite was a slender, graceful maiden of fifteen.

"I am sorry that she is growing up," said Cunegunda to Le Glorieux.

"Then am I to infer that you are fond of dwarfs?" asked he.

"No, but do you not see that as soon as she becomes a woman she must marry?"

"Most women do," he returned, "and most of them are equally discontented, whether they do or do not."

"And small wonder, since they must marry men," said Cunegunda. Le Glorieux could always throw her into a temper. "I did not marry again, and I am not discontented," she added.

"I have no doubt that you have made many a man discontented by refusing them right and left," said the fool politely.

Cunegunda smiled, but looked serious again as she said dolefully, "Our princess must marry and go to live in a strange land. How I wish that she were merely the child of a nobleman instead of being the daughter of the emperor; then she could remain in Austria. Now she must go away."

"You are getting ready to cry again," said the jester, in an injured tone. "I am supposed to make people laugh. Even his Majesty laughs at me. But there seems to be something about me that makes you cry. If you will tell me what it is I will change it, both for your benefit and my own. That you can not see the point of a joke, no matter if it is as big as my head, is perhaps not your fault; but it seems to me that you might keep from bursting into tears every time you see me or hear the jingle of my bells."

Philibert de Bresse approached; he was dressed in all the grandeur of the time, and a fine sword hung by his side. "What is the trouble with Dame Cunegunda?" he asked.

"Nothing in particular," replied the fool, "save that she wants our princess to marry a hair-dresser, or some person of the kind."

"I said nothing about a hair-dresser, and you know it!" snapped the indignant woman. "I do not want my little lady to go away to a strange country. I am now past middle age, and I am attached to my own land and do not want to leave it."

"I was not aware that the emperor was arranging a foreign match for you," remarked Le Glorieux.

Deeming this piece of satire too trivial to notice, Cunegunda said, "I must go with my lady wherever she goes, for so I promised her mother."

"Is that promise to hold good until she is ninety?" asked Le Glorieux.

"It is to hold good as long as there is breath in my body, and she does not forbid me to accompany her."

"But there is no danger – I mean there is no prospect of the Lady Marguerite's making a foreign marriage?" asked Philibert hastily.

"I am very much inclined to believe that there is," replied Le Glorieux. "If nothing of the kind happens soon, it will not be the fault of that dark-browed Spanish envoy, Don Juan Manuel. He is quiet and cold, but he is always thinking. Not that most people are not always thinking when they are quiet, for few people's brains are swept quite empty of thoughts, but his thinking counts for something. He knows quite well what he is about, does Manuel. He is always talking to our emperor, who listens with a great deal of attention to all that he says, and whatever it is, it will be a good thing for Spain, you can make up your mind to that."

"And who is this Spaniard who has so much influence over the Emperor of Austria?" asked Philibert hotly. "He is a nobody, an ordinary Castilian, who managed to attract the attention of the Queen of Spain, afterward gaining her confidence when he became her secretary."

"Well, that he did gain her confidence, and that he has a good deal of influence over Max, is a fact nevertheless," returned the fool. "The young Prince of the Asturias is of the right age to marry, and will be a suitable match for our princess, and, so far as I am concerned, I am perfectly willing that they should marry, for I think that I should like to live in Spain. The climate is very fine, there would not be so much trouble in keeping warm as there is here, and I am fond of oranges."

"The Spanish match is not made yet, and how do you know that the Lady Marguerite would take you with her, even if she should go to Spain?" asked Cunegunda disdainfully.

"How do I know that she would take her shoes with her to Spain?" he inquired. "I have become a necessity to her; she could not get on without me. Besides that, I was a present to her from the Lady Anne, now Queen of France. If I was valuable when I was the present of a mere duchess, my value has increased tenfold now that I am the gift of a queen. So do not talk any more nonsense about my not going, for I shall be the first one to be considered."

"I do not want to go away to a strange country," reiterated Cunegunda, and she went away wiping her eyes.

Philibert walked slowly to the other end of the room, seeming to be absorbed in unpleasant thought, and the jester followed him, chattering all the while, but getting no reply.

"Philbert, my boy," said he, "I can see that you are in a sour and unhappy frame of mind. I feel that the remark I made about the climate and the oranges of Spain has made you restless and envious. Besides that, you do not want to be separated from me, for nobody does. Now, I have a great deal of influence with my young mistress, and I will persuade her to let you go to Spain in her suite. Think of it! How fine it will be to hear the pretty señoritas tinkling their guitars, to pluck the olives from the trees – not that I care for them when they are plucked – and to see that great palace which the Spanish sovereigns snatched from the Moors; and they say there is a bedstead made from the gold that the Admiral Columbus brought from the new lands across the sea; perhaps, if we manage it right we may be allowed to sleep in that – in the bed, I mean, not the sea."

"Do not talk to me of Spain," said Philibert impatiently. "I hate the country, and I never want to see it."

"Philibert, my boy," said the fool, not at all disturbed by this outburst, "you are growing quick-tempered. I have noticed it for some time. Try to cultivate a sweet and gentle disposition. I hope I am not conceited, but really you would be more agreeable if you were more like me."

The sound of gay laughter and buzz of conversation was heard, and the Lady Marguerite and her ladies, followed by a number of gentlemen, entered the salon. The princess wore a gown of white, with wide sleeves that almost touched the floor; the heavy braids of her hair, wound with ropes of pearls, fell far below her waist, while a fillet of the same jewels clasped her brow. She came toward the window near which Philibert and the jester stood, and said with a bright smile, "I am very happy. My father has promised that I shall go with him to the mountains when he goes to hunt chamois. Never before would he give his consent to my going."

"To climb rocks and leap chasms after chamois would, I should think, be very entertaining pastime for a lady," said Le Glorieux. "And you will look well if your long locks should get caught in a crag and leave you suspended like a spider from its web."

"Oh, I do not intend to hunt," she replied, laughing. "We ladies will stop at the inn at the foot of the mountain, and go just a little way up to see the hunters start."

"It will be more enjoyable if Philibert and Antoine and I should go along," said Le Glorieux.

"Oh, yes; you shall go, if you like, and one of you shall get me a flower of the edelweiss from some inaccessible crag."

Señor Manuel, the Spanish envoy, now joined them, in a hesitating manner, as one who does not wish to intrude, yet who has something of importance to say. "I have something here that I was ordered to give to your Highness," said he. "It is a gift from his royal Highness, the Prince of the Asturias." He drew a small packet from his breast, which he placed in her hand with a profound obeisance, and withdrew without more words.

"Oh," said the princess, "I wonder what it can be!" She tried eagerly to undo the wrappings, for she was young enough to be very anxious regarding a present. Taking a seat in the window she busied herself with the cord, which she twisted into a hopeless tangle in her haste to untie it. "Come, Philibert," she called impatiently, "please cut this cord for me."

He took the package from her hand and broke the cord in his strong fingers so suddenly and so vigorously that the wrappings fell apart and a portrait fell with a sharp click to the floor.

"You must not open a package as if you were trying to throttle an assassin," said Le Glorieux reproachfully, as Philibert with an apology recovered the portrait and placed it in the Lady Marguerite's hand.

"Her Highness is unfortunate in asking the assistance of one so awkward," murmured Philibert, and with a bow he withdrew.

But Marguerite did not look at him, so intent was she in examining the portrait. "Come and see what was sent to me by Don Juan, Prince of the Asturias," she said to the other ladies, some of whom were young, and all as eager to see it as herself. The portrait was painted on ivory, and was surrounded by diamonds; it was of a youth on the threshold of manhood, a gentle, pleasing face, with blue eyes and fair hair.

"I thought Spaniards were dark," said Marguerite.

"The Prince could not well be dark, since his father and mother both are fair," said one of the gentlemen, who had visited the court of Spain. "His mother, Queen Isabella, is descended from the great English House of Plantagenet, both of her parents coming from that royal family."

"So much the better if he is light," remarked the jester. "My own hair is light, being indeed of a fine reddish tinge, though the cap I wear conceals its beauty from the world, which is a pity. I never have known many Spaniards, but I am sure I should be fonder of a light-haired one than of that dark ambassador with his black hair always as smooth as glass, like the head of a snake, and who glides in and out so silently that you never see him until he stands before you."

Marguerite's ladies expressed a great deal of admiration for the picture, which they considered a very handsome face, but perhaps their opinion was biased by the fact that the original was the future king of one of the richest and most powerful nations in Europe. But Marguerite slipped the portrait beneath her girdle and expressed no further opinion concerning it.

The court was now staying in the royal castle of Innsbruck in the Tyrol. Maximilian cherished a fond affection for this country, because he had added it to the possessions left him by his father. In his bedchamber at Innsbruck are to be found these lines, "I, king by the grace of God, wear the crown that I may protect the poor, and be just to all, and in order that we may all live in peace eternal."

The landlord of the The Hunter's Rest, the inn at the foot of the mountains where his Majesty went to hunt, had entertained the emperor more than once; but he was somewhat overwhelmed by the company of ladies, who now formed a part of the imperial party. Maximilian, as usual upon such occasions, was plainly dressed; he wore a green hunting suit somewhat the worse for wear, for he was not particular regarding his personal appearance when engaged in his favorite pastime of chasing the chamois. An Alpine hat with a single feather was worn where the crown of the Hapsburgs had rested, while his aristocratic feet were encased in stout hunting boots. Yes, the emperor was more like one of themselves; he was always so merry, laughing and joking with the landlord's wife, chucking the roly-poly children under their chins, exchanging a good-natured word with anybody who happened to drop in, that he won all hearts, and they forgot their awe of the emperor in their admiration of the man.

But these ladies in their elegant fur-trimmed gowns and their dainty little ways, – would anything that the inn afforded be half good enough for them? The landlord soon found, however, that the greatest lady among them, the princess herself, was sweet and gracious, and she even kissed the dimpled face of the baby, an act on her part which never was forgotten, and which the child herself lived to tell to her grandchildren, always pointing to the exact spot which her good mother had informed her had been brushed by the rosy lips of her Highness, the Lady Marguerite of Hapsburg. And the other ladies were obliged to unbend in imitation of their young mistress, and so they were far less awe-inspiring than had been expected.