Catherine De Medici by Honoré de Balzac (adult books to read txt) 📖
- Author: Honoré de Balzac
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In spite of his strong determination not to be taken in by Italian wiles, the king, together with his gentle mistress, was already caught and snared by the ambiguous phrases and doublings of this pompous and humbugging loquacity. The eyes of the two lovers showed how their minds were dazzled by the mysterious riches of power thus displayed; they saw, as it were, a series of subterranean caverns filled with gnomes at their toil. The impatience of their curiosity put to flight all suspicion.
"But," cried the king, "if this be so, you are great statesmen who can enlighten us."
"No, sire," said Lorenzo, naively.
"Why not?" asked the king.
"Sire, it is not given to any man to foresee what will happen when thousands of men are gathered together. We can tell what one man will do, how long he will live, whether he will be happy or unhappy; but we cannot tell what a collection of wills may do; and to calculate the oscillations of their selfish interests is more difficult still, for interests are men _plus_ things. We can, in solitude, see the future as a whole, and that is all. The Protestantism that now torments you will be destroyed in turn by its material consequences, which will turn to theories in due time. Europe is at the present moment getting the better of religion; to-morrow it will attack royalty."
"Then the Saint-Bartholomew was a great conception?"
"Yes, sire; for if the people triumph it will have a Saint-Bartholomew of its own. When religion and royalty are destroyed the people will attack the nobles; after the nobles, the rich. When Europe has become a mere troop of men without consistence or stability, because without leaders, it will fall a prey to brutal conquerors. Twenty times already has the world seen that sight, and Europe is now preparing to renew it. Ideas consume the ages as passions consume men. When man is cured, humanity may possibly cure itself. Science is the essence of humanity, and we are its pontiffs; whoso concerns himself about the essence cares little about the individual life."
"To what have you attained, so far?" asked the king.
"We advance slowly; but we lose nothing that we have won."
"Then you are the king of sorcerers?" retorted the king, piqued at being of no account in the presence of this man.
The majestic grand-master of the Rosicrucians cast a look on Charles IX. which withered him.
"You are the king of men," he said; "I am the king of ideas. If we were sorcerers, you would already have burned us. We have had our martyrs."
"But by what means are you able to cast nativities?" persisted the king. "How did you know that the man who came to your window last night was King of France? What power authorized one of you to tell my mother the fate of her three sons? Can you, grand-master of an art which claims to mould the world, can you tell me what my mother is planning at this moment?"
"Yes, sire."
This answer was given before Cosmo could pull his brother's robe to enjoin silence.
"Do you know why my brother, the King of Poland, has returned?"
"Yes, sire."
"Why?"
"To take your place."
"Our most cruel enemies are our nearest in blood!" exclaimed the king, violently, rising and walking about the room with hasty steps. "Kings have neither brothers, nor sons, nor mothers. Coligny was right; my murderers are not among the Huguenots, but in the Louvre. You are either imposters or regicides!--Jacob, call Solern."
"Sire," said Marie Touchet, "the Ruggieri have your word as a gentleman. You wanted to taste of the fruit of the tree of knowledge; do not complain of its bitterness."
The king smiled, with an expression of bitter self-contempt; he thought his material royalty petty in presence of the august intellectual royalty of Lorenzo Ruggiero. Charles IX. knew that he could scarcely govern France, but this grand-master of Rosicrucians ruled a submissive and intelligent world.
"Answer me truthfully; I pledge my word as a gentleman that your answer, in case it confesses dreadful crimes, shall be as if it were never uttered," resumed the king. "Do you deal with poisons?"
"To discover that which gives life, we must also have full knowledge of that which kills."
"Do you possess the secret of many poisons?"
"Yes, sire,--in theory, but not in practice. We understand all poisons, but do not use them."
"Has my mother asked you for any?" said the king, breathlessly.
"Sire," replied Lorenzo, "Queen Catherine is too able a woman to employ such means. She knows that the sovereign who poisons dies by poison. The Borgias, also Bianca Capello, Grand Duchess of Tuscany, are noted examples of the dangers of that miserable resource. All things are known at courts; there can be no concealment. It may be possible to kill a poor devil--and what is the good of that?--but to aim at great men cannot be done secretly. Who shot Coligny? It could only be you, or the queen-mother, or the Guises. Not a soul is doubtful of that. Believe me, poison cannot be twice used with impunity in statecraft. Princes have successors. As for other men, if, like Luther, they are sovereigns through the power of ideas, their doctrines are not killed by killing them. The queen is from Florence; she knows that poison should never be used except as a weapon of personal revenge. My brother, who has not been parted from her since her arrival in France, knows the grief that Madame Diane caused your mother. But she never thought of poisoning her, though she might easily have done so. What could your father have said? Never had a woman a better right to do it; and she could have done it with impunity; but Madame de Valentinois still lives."
"But what of those waxen images?" asked the king.
"Sire," said Cosmo, "these things are so absolutely harmless that we lend ourselves to the practice to satisfy blind passions, just as physicians give bread pills to imaginary invalids. A disappointed woman fancies that by stabbing the heart of a wax-figure she has brought misfortunes upon the head of the man who has been unfaithful to her. What harm in that? Besides, it is our revenue."
"The Pope sells indulgences," said Lorenzo Ruggiero, smiling.
"Has my mother practised these spells with waxen images?"
"What good would such harmless means be to one who has the actual power to do all things?"
"Has Queen Catherine the power to save you at this moment?" inquired the king, in a threatening manner.
"Sire, we are not in any danger," replied Lorenzo, tranquilly. "I knew before I came into this house that I should leave it safely, just as I know that the king will be evilly disposed to my brother Cosmo a few weeks hence. My brother may run some danger then, but he will escape it. If the king reigns by the sword, he also reigns by justice," added the old man, alluding to the famous motto on a medal struck for Charles IX.
"You know all, and you know that I shall die soon, which is very well," said the king, hiding his anger under nervous impatience; "but how will my brother die,--he whom you say is to be Henri III.?"
"By a violent death."
"And the Duc d'Alencon?"
"He will not reign."
"Then Henri de Bourbon will be king of France?"
"Yes, sire."
"How will he die?"
"By a violent death."
"When I am dead what will become of madame?" asked the king, motioning to Marie Touchet.
"Madame de Belleville will marry, sire."
"You are imposters!" cried Marie Touchet. "Send them away, sire."
"Dearest, the Ruggieri have my word as a gentleman," replied the king, smiling. "Will madame have children?" he continued.
"Yes, sire; and madame will live to be more than eighty years old."
"Shall I order them to be hanged?" said the king to his mistress. "But about my son, the Comte d'Auvergne?" he continued, going into the next room to fetch the child.
"Why did you tell him I should marry?" said Marie to the two brothers, the moment they were alone.
"Madame," replied Lorenzo, with dignity, "the king bound us to tell the truth, and we have told it."
"_Is_ that true?" she exclaimed.
"As true as it is that the governor of the city of Orleans is madly in love with you."
"But I do not love him," she cried.
"That is true, madame," replied Lorenzo; "but your horoscope declares that you will marry the man who is in love with you at the present time."
"Can you not lie a little for my sake?" she said smiling; "for if the king believes your predictions--"
"Is it not also necessary that he should believe our innocence?" interrupted Cosmo, with a wily glance at the young favorite. "The precautions taken against us by the king have made us think during the time we have spent in your charming jail that
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