Название: The Constable De Bourbon
Автор: Ainsworth William Harrison
Издательство: Public Domain
Жанр: Зарубежная классика
isbn: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/49681
isbn:
“Quarrelled! ah!” exclaimed François. “And so you took refuge from the husband you hate with the Duke de Bourbon – eh?”
“I do not hate my husband, sire, though he has compelled me to leave him. I came to the Château de Moulins with my father.”
“And you expected to find your father with the Constable when you entered so suddenly just now, eh?” remarked the king, dryly.
“I did, sire. I came to inform them of your arrival at the château – little expecting to find your majesty here. I trust I may infer from your gracious and kindly aspect that the Constable is restored to favour?”
“He is fully restored,” replied the king. “You will be pleased, I am sure, to learn that I have just promised him the command of half my Italian army.”
“You have done well, sire,” she rejoined. “With Bourbon in joint command with your majesty, victory will be assured. You will accompany the king?” she added to the Constable, with evident anxiety.
“I hope to do so,” he replied. “At all events, I will follow as soon as my strength will permit me.”
“Nay, I must have you with me,” said the king.
“Right, sire – do not leave him behind,” she whispered.
“I know the way to enforce obedience on the Constable’s part,” said the king. “I shall take you with me to Lyons, fair Diane. He will follow quickly then.”
“Sire!” exclaimed Bourbon, with ill-concealed vexation, “the countess is here with her father!”
“What of that? I shall not ask his consent,” replied the king. “The only person who has any right to object is Maulévrier, and he is not likely to interfere. The Comtesse de Châteaubriand and a large party of court dames are in my train,” he added to Diane. “You shall accompany them.” He then continued in a low voice: “I cannot doubt the great influence you possess over Bourbon. What you say to him he will obey. Charge him, therefore, to join me a week hence at Lyons.”
And he moved towards the other side of the chamber, as if to examine the portrait of the beautiful Clara de Gonzaga.
Diane instantly took advantage of the opportunity, and, approaching Bourbon, said, in a low voice, “You have accepted the king’s offer? You will break with the Emperor and Henry VIII., will you not?”
“It is too late,” replied the Constable, in the same tone. “I have signed the compact.”
“But consider that the king has promised to share the command of the army with you?” she urged.
“Promises made by princes under such circumstances are rarely kept,” replied Bourbon. “I can never be really restored to the king’s favour.”
“You wrong him,” she said. “He is the soul of loyalty and honour.”
“He loyal!” echoed Bourbon. “He is perfidious as his mother. I will not trust him.”
“That is your determination?”
“My fixed determination,” he rejoined.
“Then we shall never meet again – never, Charles,” she said.
Bourbon made no reply, and his head sank upon his breast. At this moment the king turned round.
“Have you prevailed upon him, fair Diane?” he asked. “Yes, yes, he will come, sire,” she answered, hastily. “You will?” she added to Bourbon, with an entreating look that ought to have been irresistible.
“You have said it,” he rejoined.
“That is well,” observed the king. “I knew you could not resist her persuasion.”
Just then the door opened, and Jean de l’Hôpital entered the room.
“I crave your majesty’s pardon for this interruption,” he said, “but I am compelled to attend to my illustrious patient. It is necessary that his highness should take the draught prepared for him.”
“I applaud your zeal, sir,” replied François, “and I enjoin you to use all your art to restore the prince your master to health as quickly as may be. Think you he will be able to set out for Lyons in three days’ time?”
“I will not answer for it, sire,” replied Jean de l’Hôpital, consulting Bourbon by a look.
“In a week, then?” demanded the king.
“Perchance in a week, sire,” replied the physician. “But he must travel slowly, for even then he will be very feeble.”
“Come hither, sir,” said the king, taking Jean de l’Hôpital aside. “Answer me truly, as you value your life. What ails the Constable?”
“His highness is labouring under a severe quotidian ague, caught at Montbrison,” replied the physician. “The fever has proved of singular obstinacy, and will not yield to ordinary remedies. We are under great apprehensions,” he added, lowering his voice, “that it may be followed by some mortal ailment, as consumption, or the black jaundice. His state is exceedingly critical, and demands the utmost care. Were he to take cold, I would not answer for his life.”
“Hark ye, sir,” said the king. “I know you can speedily cure him, if you will. Within a week I expect to see him at Lyons.”
“I cannot perform impossibilities, sire,” replied the physician; “but if it be in the power of medical skill to further your majesty’s desires, you shall behold him at the time appointed.”
Apparently satisfied, François then turned towards the Constable, and said:
“Adieu, cousin. I commend you to the care of your physician. But as I shall naturally be anxious to hear how you progress, I will leave behind me the Seigneur Perot de Warthy, who will send me daily tidings of you.”
“That is needless, sire,” said Bourbon, impatiently.
“Since you are pleased to express so much anxiety about me, I will despatch frequent messengers to you with the reports of my physicians.”
“I prefer leaving Warthy,” rejoined the king. “I can depend on him. Once more adieu, cousin. We shall meet again at Lyons.”
And, offering his hand to Diane, he led her out of the room.
VII. PEROT DE WARTHY
Scarcely were they gone, when Bourbon sprang to his feet, and gave vent to an outburst of rage.
“By Heaven! I have had enough to do to play my part!” he exclaimed.
“I pray your highness to calm yourself!” cried Jean de l’Hopital. “His majesty may return.”
“I wish he would return!” exclaimed Bourbon. “I was a fool to allow him to depart. But I must take instant counsel with my friends.”
So saying, he thrice struck СКАЧАТЬ