Chicot the Jester Read online

  CHAPTER V.

  HOW MADAME DE ST. LUC PASSED THE SECOND NIGHT OF HER MARRIAGE.

  Bussy went straight to the sleeping-room of the king. There werein it two beds of velvet and satin, pictures, relics, perfumedsachets from the East, and a collection of beautiful swords.Bussy knew the king was not there, as his brother had asked tosee him, but he knew that there was next to it a little roomwhich was occupied in turn by all the king's favorites, and whichhe now expected to find occupied by St. Luc, whom the king in hisgreat affection had carried off from his wife. Bussy knockedat the antechamber common to the two rooms. The captain of theguards opened.

  "M. de Bussy!" cried he.

  "Yes, myself, dear M. de Nancey; the king wishes to speak to M.de St. Luc."

  "Very well, tell M. de St. Luc the king wants him."

  "What is he doing?"

  "He is with Chicot, waiting for the king's return from his brother."

  "Will you permit my page to wait here?"

  "Willingly, monsieur."

  "Enter, Jean," said Bussy, and he pointed to the embrasure ofa window, where she went to hide herself. St. Luc entered, andM. de Nancey retired.

  "What does the king want now?" cried St. Luc, angrily; "ah! itis you, M. de Bussy."

  "I, and before everything, let me thank you for the service yourendered me."

  "Ah! it was quite natural; I could not bear to see a brave gentlemanassassinated: I thought you killed."

  "It did not want much to do it, but I got off with a wound, whichI think I repaid with interest to Schomberg and D'Epernon. Asfor Quelus, he may thank the bones of his head: they are thehardest I ever knew."

  "Ah! tell me about it, it will amuse me a little."

  "I have no time now, I come for something else. You are ennuye----"

  "To death."

  "And a prisoner?"

  "Completely. The king pretends no one can amuse him but me. Heis very good, for since yesterday I have made more grimaces thanhis ape, and been more rude than his jester."

  "Well, it is my turn to render you a service: can I do it?"

  "Yes, go to the Marshal de Brissac's, and reassure my poor littlewife, who must be very uneasy, and must think my conduct verystrange."

  "What shall I say to her?"

  "Morbleu! tell her what you see; that I am a prisoner, and thatthe king talks to me of friendship like Cicero, who wrote on it;and of virtue like Socrates, who practised it. It is in vainI tell him I am ungrateful for the first, and incredulous asto the last: he only repeats it over again."

  "Is that all I can do for you?"

  "Ah, mon Dieu! I fear so."

  "Then it is done."

  "How so?"

  "I guessed all this, and told your wife so."

  "And what did she say?"

  "At first she would not believe; but I trust now," continuedhe, glancing towards the window, "she will yield to evidence.Ask me something more difficult."

  "Then, bring here the griffin of Signor Astolfo, and let me mounten croupe, and go to my wife."

  "A more simple thing would be to take the griffin to your wifeand bring her here."

  "Here!"

  "Yes, here."

  "To the Louvre, that would be droll."

  "I should think so. Then you would be ennuye no longer?"

  "Ma foi! no, but if this goes on much longer, I believe I shallkill myself."

  "Well! shall I give you my page?"

  "To me?"

  "Yes, he is a wonderful lad."

  "Thank you, but I detest pages."

  "Bah! try him."

  "Bussy, you mock me."

  "Let me leave him."

  "No."

  "I tell you, you will like him."

  "No, no, a hundred times, no."

  "Hola, page, come here."

  Jeanne came forward, blushing.

  "Oh!" cried St. Luc, recognizing her, in astonishment.

  "Well! shall I send him away?"

  "No, no. Ah Bussy, I owe you an eternal friendship."

  "Take care, you cannot be heard, but you can be seen."

  "It is true," said St. Luc, retreating from his wife. Indeed,M. de Nancey was beginning to wonder what was going on, whena great noise was heard from the gallery.

  "Ah! mon Dieu!" cried M. de Nancey, "there is the king quarrelingwith some one."

  "I really think so," replied Bussy, affecting inquietude; "canit be with the Duc d'Anjou, who came with me?"

  The captain of the guard went off in the direction of the gallery.

  "Have I not managed well?" said Bussy to St. Luc.

  "What is it?"

  "M. d'Anjou and the king are quarrelling; I must go to them. Youprofit by the time to place in safety the page I have broughtyou; is it possible?"

  "Oh, yes; luckily I declared I was ill and must keep my room."

  "In that case, adieu, madame, and remember me in your prayers."And Bussy went off to the gallery, where the king, red with fury,swore to the duke, who was pale with anger, that in the sceneof the preceding night Bussy was the aggressor.

  "I affirm to you, sire," cried the duke, "that D'Epernon, Schombergand Quelus were waiting for him at the Hotel des Tournelles."

  "Who told you so?"

  "I saw them with my own eyes."

  "In that darkness! The night was pitch dark."

  "I knew their voices."

  "They spoke to you?"

  "They did more, they took me for Bussy, and attacked me."

  "You?"

  "Yes, I."

  "And what were you doing there?"

  "What does that matter to you?"

  "I wish to know; I am curious to-day."

  "I was going to Manasses."

  "A Jew?"

  "You go to Ruggieri, a poisoner."

  "I go where I like: I am the king. Besides, as I said, Bussy wasthe aggressor."

  "Where?"

  "At St. Luc's ball."

  "Bussy provoked five men? No, no, he is brave, but he is not mad."

  "Par la mordieu! I tell you I heard him. Besides, he has woundedSchomberg in the thigh, D'Epernon in the arm, and half killedQuelus."

  "Ah! really I did not know; I compliment him on it."

  "I will make example of this brawler."

  "And I, whom your friends attack, in his person and in my own,will know if I am your brother, and if----"

  At this moment Bussy, dressed in pale-green satin, entered theroom.

  "Sire!" said he, "receive my humble respects."

  "Pardieu! here he is," cried Henri.

  "Your majesty, it seems, was doing me the honor of speaking ofme."

  "Yes, and I am glad to see that, in spite of what they told me,your look shows good health."

  "Sire, blood drawn improves the complexion, so mine ought to begood this morning."

  "Well, since they have wounded you, complain, and I will do youjustice."

  "I complain of nothing, sire."

  Henri looked astonished. "What did you say?" said he to the duke.

  "I said that Bussy had received a wound in his side."

  "Is it true, Bussy?"

  "The first prince of the blood would not lie, sire."

  "And yet you do not complain?"

  "I shall never complain, sire, until they cut off my right-hand,and prevent my revenging myself, and then I will try to do itwith the left."

  "Insolent," murmured Henri.

  "Sire," said the duke, "do justice; we ask no better. Order aninquiry, name judges, and let it be proved who prepared the ambushand the intended murder."

  Henri reddened. "No," said he, "I prefer this time to be ignorantwhere the wrong lies, and to pardon everyone. I wish these enemiesto make peace, and I am sorry that Schomberg and D'Epernon arekept at home by their wounds. Say, M. d'Anjou, which do you callthe most forward to fight of all my friends, as you say you sawthem?"

  "Sire, it was Quelus."

  "Ma foi! yes," said Quelus, "his highness is right."

  "Then," said Henri, "let MM. Bussy and Quelus make peace in thename of all."

  "Oh! Oh!" said Quelus, "what does that mean, sire?"

  "It means that you are to embrace here, before me." Quelus frowned.

  "Ah, signor," cried Bussy, imitating a pantaloon, "will you notdo me this favor?"

  Even the king laughed. Then, approaching Quelus, Bussy threw hisarms round his neck, saying, "The king wishes it."

  "I hope it engages us to nothing," whispered Quelus.

  "Be easy," answered Bussy, "we will meet soon."

  Quelus drew back in a rage, and Bussy, making a pirouette, wentout of the gallery.