Catherine de Médicis, Queen, consort of Henry II, King of France, 1519-1589 -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
“My good man, I am not questioning you, I am telling you a fact. Now, if
your son, who will to-morrow be placed in the prince’s way as he passes,
should recognize him, or if the prince should recognize your son, the
head of Monsieur de Conde will fall. God knows what will become of his
accomplice! However, don’t be alarmed. Neither your son nor the prince
will die; I have drawn their horoscope,--they will live; but I do not
know in what way they will get out of this affair. Without distrusting
the certainty of my calculations, we must do something to bring
about results. To-morrow the prince will receive, from sure hands, a
prayer-book in which we convey the information to him. God grant
that your son be cautious, for him we cannot warn. A single glance
of recognition will cost the prince’s life. Therefore, although the
queen-mother has every reason to trust in Christophe’s faithfulness--”
“They’ve put it to a cruel test!” cried the furrier.
“Don’t speak so! Do you think the queen-mother is on a bed of roses? She
is taking measures as if the Guises had already decided on the death of
the prince, and right she is, the wise and prudent queen! Now listen to
me; she counts on you to help her in all things. You have some influence
with the _tiers-etat_, where you represent the body of the guilds
of Paris, and though the Guisards may promise you to set your son at
liberty, try to fool them and maintain the independence of the guilds.
Demand the queen-mother as regent; the king of Navarre will publicly
accept the proposal at the session of the States-general.”
“But the king?”
“The king will die,” replied Ruggiero; “I have read his horoscope. What
the queen-mother requires you to do for her at the States-general is a
very simple thing; but there is a far greater service which she asks of
you. You helped Ambroise Pare in his studies, you are his friend--”
“Ambroise now loves the Duc de Guise more than he loves me; and he is
right, for he owes his place to him. Besides, he is faithful to the
king. Though he inclines to the Reformed religion, he will never do
anything against his duty.”
“Curse these honest men!” cried the Florentine. “Ambroise boasted this
evening that he could bring the little king safely through his present
illness (for he is really ill). If the king recovers his health, the
Guises triumph, the princes die, the house of Bourbon becomes extinct,
we shall return to Florence, your son will be hanged, and the Lorrains
will easily get the better of the other sons of France--”
“Great God!” exclaimed Lecamus.
“Don’t cry out in that way,--it is like a burgher who knows nothing of
the court,--but go at once to Ambroise and find out from him what he
intends to do to save the king’s life. If there is anything decided on,
come back to me at once, and tell me the treatment in which he has such
faith.”
“But--” said Lecamus.
“Obey blindly, my dear friend; otherwise you will get your mind
bewildered.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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