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"Well! I refuse the offer of the king of Spain."
"You refuse the hand of the infanta!" cried the Spaniard, with a start, as though he had received a sudden wound.
"It would be a great honor, but I cannot think it a greater one than that of having married a daughter of France."
"No; but that alliance brought you nearly to the tomb, and this will bring you to the throne."
"An incomparable piece of good fortune, monsieur, I know; but I will never buy it with the blood and honor of my future subjects. What!
monsieur. I draw the sword against the king of France, my brother-in-law, for the Spaniards; I arrest the standard of France in its career of glory; I kill brothers by brothers' hands; I bring the stranger into my country! No, monsieur; I asked the king of Spain for aid against the Guises, who wish to rob me of my inheritance, but not against the Duc d'Anjou, my brother-in-law; not against Henri III., my friend; not against my wife, sister of my king. You will aid the Guises, you will say, and lend them your support. Do so, and I will let loose on you and on them all the Protestants of Germany and France. The king of Spain wishes to reconquer Flanders, which is slipping from him; let him do what his father, Charles V., did, and ask a free pa.s.sage to go and claim his t.i.tle of first bourgeois of Ghent, and Henri III., I am certain, will grant it to him, as Francois I. did. I wish for the throne of France, says his Catholic majesty; it is possible, but I do not need him to aid me in getting it; I will do that for myself, once it is vacant, in spite of all the kings in the world. Adieu, then, monsieur.
Tell my brother Philippe that I am grateful for his offers, but cannot believe for a moment that he thought me capable of accepting them.
Adieu, monsieur."
"Take care, sire," said the amba.s.sador; "the good understanding between two neighbors may be destroyed by a hasty word."
"Monsieur, my crown is so light that I should scarcely feel the difference if it slipped off; besides, I believe I can guard it.
Therefore, once more adieu, monsieur, and tell the king your master that I have greater ambitions than he dreams of." And the Bearnais, becoming once more, not himself, but what he generally seemed to be, conducted the amba.s.sador, with a courteous smile, to the door.
CHAPTER XLIX.
THE POOR OF HENRI OF NAVARRE.
Chicot remained plunged in profound surprise. Henri lifted the tapestry, and, striking him on the shoulder, said:
"Well, M. Chicot, how do you think I managed?"
"Wonderfully, sire; and really, for a king who is not accustomed to amba.s.sadors--"
"It is my brother Henri who sends me such amba.s.sadors."
"How so, sire?"
"If he did not incessantly persecute his poor sister, others would not dream of it. Do you believe that if the king of Spain had not heard of the public insult offered to the queen, when a captain of the guards searched her litter, that he would have proposed to me to repudiate her?"
"I see with pleasure, sire," replied Chicot, "that all attempts will be useless, and that nothing can interrupt the harmony that exists between the queen and yourself."
"Oh, my friend, the interest they have in making us quarrel is too clear."
"I confess to you, sire, that I am not so penetrating as you are."
"Doubtless Henri would be delighted if I repudiated his sister."
"How so? Pray explain to me."
"You know they forgot to pay me my wife's dowry."
"I guessed as much, sire."
"This dowry was to consist of 300,000 golden crowns and some towns; among others, Cahors."
"A pretty town, mordieu!"
"I have claimed, not the money, but Cahors."
"Ventre de b.i.+.c.he! sire, in your place, I should have done the same."
"And that is why--do you understand now?"
"No, indeed, sire."
"Why they wish me to quarrel with my wife and repudiate her. No wife, no dowry, no more 300,000 crowns, no Cahors. It is one way of eluding a promise, and Henri is clever in laying snares."
"You would much like to hold Cahors, sire?"
"Doubtless; for after all, what is my princ.i.p.ality of Bearn? A poor little place, clipped by the avarice of my mother-in-law and brother-in-law."
"While Cahors--"
"Cahors would be my rampart, the safeguard of my religion."
"Well, sire, go into mourning for Cahors; for, whether you break with Madame Marguerite or not, the king of France will never give it to you, and unless you take it--"
"Oh, I would soon take it, if it was not so strong, and, above all, if I did not hate war."
"Cahors is impregnable, sire."
"Oh! impregnable! But if I had an army, which I have not--"
"Listen, sire. We are not here to flatter each other. To take Cahors, which is held by M. de Vesin, one must be a Hannibal or a Caesar; and your majesty--"
"Well?" said Henri, with a smile.
"Has just said, you do not like war."
Henri sighed, and his eyes flashed for a minute; then he said:
"It is true I have never drawn the sword, and perhaps never shall. I am a king of straw, a man of peace; but, by a singular contrast, I love to think of warlike things--that is in my blood. St. Louis, my ancestor, pious by education and gentle by nature, became on occasion a brave soldier and a skillful swordsman. Let us talk, if you please, of M.
Vesin, who is a Caesar and a Hannibal."
"Sire, pardon me if I have wounded or annoyed you. I spoke only of M. de Vesin to extinguish all hope in your heart. Cahors, you see, is so well guarded because it is the key of the south."
"Alas! I know it well. I wished so much to possess Cahors, that I told my poor mother to make it a sine qua non of our marriage. See, I am speaking Latin now. Cahors, then, was my wife's dowry; they owe it to me--"
"Sire, to owe and pay--"