The Pocket Bible; or, Christian the Printer: A Tale of the Sixteenth Century

"Oh, Clorinde! If Biron were to hear you!" cried Diana of Sauveterre.

"He has heard me," answered Clorinde. "He knows that in pledging constancy, exception is always implied for an encounter with Henry of Guise. But let us hear the other pasquils, Blanche!"

"The next one," announced Blanche, "is piquant. It alludes to the new custom that the Queen has borrowed from Spain. It alludes to the title of Majesty that she wishes to be addressed by, as well as her children:

"The Kingdom of France, to perdition while lagging,Has seized from the Spaniard his heathenish bragging:It rigs up a mortal in godhead's travesty,And when his estate with hypocrisy's smelling,I plainly can see, and without any telling,Our Majesty's booked – to be stript of majesty."56

"That last line is humorous," laughed Clorinde. "'Our Majesty's booked – to be stript of majesty.'"

"For want of the thing we take the name – that is enough to impose upon the fools," said Diana of Sauveterre.

Blanche pointed to their companion who was still seated by the window, now with her forehead resting on her hands, and said: "Look at Anna Bell. In what black melancholy is she plunged?"

"To the devil with melancholy!" answered Diana. "One has to fall in love with some German Prince in order to look so pitiful!"

"Who may the Prince Charming be?" Blanche inquired. "We know nothing of the secrets of that languishing maid, except a few words uttered by her in her sleep – 'Prince – Germany! – Germany! – My heart is all yours. Alas, my love can not be shared.'"

"Can Anna Bell be German?" asked Clorinde.

"Ask our good Dame Catherine about that. She is no doubt acquainted with the mystery of Anna Bell's birth, and may enlighten you on what you want to know. As for me, I know nothing about it."

"The German Prince has turned her head and made her forget poor Solange altogether," said Clorinde.

"The most famous preachers, among them Burning-Fire and Fra Hervé the Cordelier, failed to draw the Marquis of Solange back to the fold of the Church. Anna Bell undertook his conversion, and, by grace from above – or from below – by virtue of her blue eyes or of her charming hips, the Huguenot became an ardent Catholic."

"But to whom does he render his devotions?" asked Clorinde, meaningly. "To the Church, or to the chapel of our little friend?" The maids of honor laughed uproariously and Clorinde continued: "But let us return to our pasquils."

"This one," resumed Blanche of Verceil, "is odd on account of its form – and the climax is droll. Judge for yourselves:

"The poor people endure everything;The men-at-arms ravage everything;The Holy Church pensions everything;The favorites demand everything;The Cardinal grants everything;The Parliament registers everything;The Chancellor seals everything;The Queen-Mother runs everything;And only the Devil laughs at everything;Because the Devil will take everything."57

The loud hilarity of the maids of honor, whom the wind-up of the last pasquil amused intensely, finally attracted the attention of Anna Bell. Her face bore the impress of profound sadness; her eyes were moist. Fearing that she was the object of her companions' jests, the maid furtively wiped away her tears, stepped slowly towards the other young women, and let herself down beside Blanche of Verceil.

"We are somewhat after the fashion of the devil – we laugh about everything," said Clorinde to her. "You alone, Anna Bell, among us all, are as sad as a wife who sees her husband return from a long voyage, or beholds her gallant depart for the wars. What is the reason of your despondency?"

Anna Bell forced a smile, and answered: "Forget me, as the wife forgets her husband. To-day I feel in a sad humor."

"The remembrance, perhaps, of a bad dream?" suggested Blanche of Verceil, ironically. "Or perhaps bad news from a handsome and absent friend?"

"No, dear Blanche," replied Anna Bell, blushing, "I am affected only by a vague sorrow – without cause or object. Besides, as you are aware, I am not of a gay disposition."

"Oh, God!" broke in Diana of Sauveterre, excitedly. "By the way of dreams, I must tell you I had a most frightful one last night. I saw our escort attacked by the Huguenot bandits called the Avengers of Israel."

"Their chief is said to be a devilish one-eyed man, who attacks monks and priests by choice," said Blanche, "and, when he takes them prisoner, flays their skulls. He calls that raising them to the cardinalate, coifing them with the red cap!"

"It is enough to make one shiver with terror. One hears nothing but reports of such atrocities," exclaimed Clorinde.

"We need not fear that we shall fall into the hands of that reprobate," said Diana reassuringly. "We have attended a special mass for the success of our journey."

"I place but slight reliance upon the mass, my dear Diana, but a very strong one upon Count Neroweg of Plouernel, who commands our escort," replied Blanche. "The Huguenot bandits will not dare to approach our armed squadrons and light cavalry. The saber is a better protection to us than the priest's cowl."

"May God preserve us!" laughed Diana. "All the same, I would not regret undergoing a scare, or even running a certain degree of risk of being carried off, together with the accessory consequences – anything to see the frightened face of the Cardinal, who is as lily-livered as a hare."

"To tell the truth, I do not understand these charges of cowardice that you fling at the Cardinal, after so many proofs of valor given by him," said Blanche.

Diana of Sauveterre burst out laughing again. "You must be joking," she said, "when you speak of the 'bravery' of the Cardinal, and of the 'proofs of valor' given by him."

"No, indeed, my dear Diana," replied Blanche. "I am talking seriously. First of all, did he not carry bravery to the point of charging old Diana of Poitiers, as he would have done a citadel? Did he not accomplish another exploit in passing from the arms of Diana into those of our good Queen Catherine, though she be loaded with years and corpulence? Besides, we know," she added with a sinister smile, "that to play the gallant with Catherine is at times to court death. These are the reasons why I look upon the Cardinal as a Caesar."

"You would be talking to the point, my dear, if, instead of braving the one-eyed man, who has such a reputation for ferocity, the Cardinal were now to turn to the assault of some one-eyed woman," said Clorinde of Vaucernay.

"If heaven is just," said Diana, "it will yet place the Huguenot bandit face to face with the Cordelier Hervé. Then would we see terrible things. The monk commands a company of Catholics, all desperate men. For arms he has a chaplet, the beads of which are arquebus balls, and a heavy iron crucifix which he uses for a mace. All heretics who fall into the hands of the troop of Fra Hervé are put to death with all manner of refined tortures, whether they be men or women, old men or children. But do let us return to our pasquils."

"The best are still to come. They are the cleverest and drollest, but they are in prose;" and Blanche continued reading:

"New Works Belonging to the Court Library.

"The Pot-pourri of the Affairs of France, translated from the Italian into French by the Queen of France.

"The General Goslings' Record, by the Cardinal of Bourbon. A collection of racy stories.

"The History of Ganymede, by the Duke of Anjou, the Queen's favorite son."

"The dear Prince surely did not write that book without a collaborator," cried Diana of Sauveterre, laughing. "I wager the lovely Odet, the son of Count Neroweg of Plouernel, his aide-de-camp, must have helped the Duke of Anjou in his work. The two youngsters have become inseparable, day – and night!"

"O, Italiam! Italiam! O, Italy, the rival of Gomorrah and of Lesbos!" exclaimed Clorinde, laughing boisterously.

"You speak Latin, my dear?" asked Diana, amused.

"Simply out of shame," replied Clorinde, "in order not to frighten the modesty of the maids of honor, my pretty chickens."

"I have a horror of the little hermaphrodites," agreed Blanche. "They are decked out like women – gaudy ruffles, jewelry in their ears, fans in their hands! May Venus protect us from the reign of those favorites! May the fires of hell consume the popinjays! But to proceed with the pasquil. Attention, my dears:

"Singular Treatise on Incest, by Monsignor the Archbishop of Lyons, recently published and dedicated to Mademoiselle Grisolles, his sister. A pretty couple!

"Monsignor Archbishop studies reserved cases – in the confessional, in order to put them into practice.

"Sermons, by the reverend Father Burning-Fire, faithfully compiled by the street-porters of Paris.

"The Perfect Pig, by Monsieur Villequier, revised, corrected and considerably enlarged by Madam Villequier. Boar and sow!"

The maids of honor roared out aloud as they heard the burlesque title, and they repeated in chorus – "The Perfect Pig!"58

"Now comes the last and best," proceeded Blanche. "We are again the theme, together with our good Dame Catherine. Ours the honors, as ever. Meditate upon these dainties:

"Manifesto of the Court Ladies

"Be it known to all by these presents that the Court Ladies have no less repentance than sins, as appears from the following lamentations.

"Catherine De Medici, the King's Mother

"My God, my heart, feeling the approach of death, apprehends Thy wrath and my eternal damnation when I consider how many sins I have committed, as well with my body as through the violent death of others, even of near relatives – all in order to reign. How I have raised my children in vice, blasphemy and perfidy, and my daughters in unchaste licence, to the point of tolerating and even authorizing a brothel at my Court. France made me what I am. I unmake her all I can. With the good King David I say —Tibi soli peccavi."59

"That is carrying fiction to great lengths," laughed Diana of Sauveterre. "I do not believe our good Dame Catherine is capable of repenting any of the things laid to her door by the malignant pasquil – neither her debaucheries nor any of her other evil deeds – unchastities or assassinations."

"The word 'brothel' is rather impertinent when applied to us!" Clorinde exclaimed. "They should have said, like our dear Rabelais, 'an Abbey of Thalamia,' or 'a Monastery of Cyprus, of which the Queen is the Mother Abbess.' That would have been elegant – without doing violence to the truth. A 'brothel' – fie! fie! Nasty word! We are the priestesses of Venus – only that!"

"I was not aware, dearest, that you had become a model of prudishness!" returned Blanche of Verceil with exquisite mockery. "When you ply a trade you must be willing to accept its name, and be indifferent to the word with which it is designated;" and she proceeded to read:

"Manifesto of the Maids of Honor

"Oh! Oh! Oh! My God! What is to become of us, Lord! Oh, what will be of us, if Thou dost not extend to us Thy vast, very vast mercy! We cry out to Thee in a loud voice that it may please Thee to forgive us the many carnal sins we have committed with Kings, Cardinals, Princes, knights, abbots, preachers, poets, musicians and all manner of other folks of all conditions, trades and quality, down to muleteers, pages and lackeys, and even further down – people corroded with disease and soaked in preservatives! Therefore do we say with the good Madam Villequier: 'Oh, Lord, mercy! Grant us mercy! And if we can not find a husband, let us join the Order of the Magdalens!'

"Done at Chercheau, voyage to Nerac.

"Signed, CUCUFIN

"(With the permission of Monsignor the Archbishop of Lyons.)"60

Such was the cynicism and moral turpitude of the wretched girls, corrupted and gangrened to the core as they were since early childhood by the perversions of an infamous court and the example as well as the advice of Catherine De Medici, that this scorching satire, more than any of the other pasquils, provoked the boundless hilarity of the "Flying Squadron." All sense of decorum was blotted out. Anna Bell alone blushed and dropped her eyes.

The gay guffaws of the beautiful sinners were interrupted by the solemn entrance of their governess.

"Silence!" she commanded. "Silence, young ladies! Her Majesty is close by, in conference with Monseigneur the Cardinal."

"Oh, dear Countess!" answered Blanche of Verceil, endeavoring to smother the outbursts of her laughter. "If you only knew what a wicked pasquil we have just read! According to the author it would seem that we emerge from our dormitory like the goddess Truth out of her fountain, or with as scant clothing on our limbs as Madam Eve in her paradise."

"Less noise, you crazy lasses! Less noise!" ordered the governess; and addressing Anna Bell: "Come, dearest, the Queen wishes to have a talk with you after her conference with his Excellency the Cardinal. You are to wait for her summons in a cabinet, which is separated from the Queen's apartment by the little corridor. When you hear her bell ring three times, the usual summons, you are to go in."

Anna Bell went out with the governess, leaving her lightheaded and lighthearted companions in the room laughing and exchanging witticisms upon the pasquils.

CHAPTER II.

ANNA BELL

Catherine De Medici and Cardinal Charles of Lorraine were in the midst of a conversation that started immediately after supper. The prelate, complaisant, sly and attentive to the slightest word of the Italian woman, showed himself alternately reserved and familiar, according to the turn that the conversation took. The Queen, on the other hand, intent, not so much upon what the retainer of the Guises said, as upon fathoming what he suppressed, at once hated and feared him, and sought to surprise upon his face the hidden secrets of his thoughts. Both the one and the other stood on their guard, the two accomplices in intrigue and crime vying with each other in dissimulation and perfidy, the Italian woman crafty, the prelate cautious.

"Monsignor Cardinal," remarked Catherine De Medici with a touch of irony in her tone, "you remind me at this moment – you must excuse the comparison, I am a huntress you know – "

"Your Majesty unites all the deities – Juno on her throne, Diana in the woods, Venus in her temple of Cytheria – "

"Mercy, Monsignor Cardinal, let us drop those mythological queens. They are old, they have lived their time – Diana, with the rest of them; they now inhabit the empyrean."

The pointed allusion to his amours with old Diana of Poitiers, Duchess of Valentinois, stung the haughty prelate to the quick. He meant to give tit for tat, and, in his turn hinting at his present amours with the Queen herself, he replied:

"I perceive, madam, that the death of the Duchess of Valentinois has not yet disarmed your jealousy. And yet, I feel hope re-rising in my heart – "

Catherine De Medici had yielded herself to the prelate out of political calculation, the same as he himself had laid siege to her out of political ambition. The Italian woman affected not to have understood the Cardinal's hint at their intimate relations, and darting upon him her viper's glance, proceeded:

"As I was saying, monsignor, when I begged you to excuse a comparison which I borrow from falconry, your oratorical circumlocutions remind me of a falcon's evolutions when he rises in the air to swoop down upon his prey. I have been searching through the mists of your discourse for the prey you are in pursuit of, and am unable to discover it. You induced me to join my son of Anjou in the army with the view of reviving the spirits of the Catholic chiefs. Meseems my faithful subjects should be sufficiently encouraged by the deaths of the Duke of Deux-Ponts, of Monsieur Condé, and of Dandelot, the brother of Coligny, – three of the most prominent chiefs of the Huguenot party, and all three carried off within a month. These are all fortunate events."61

"We see God's hand in that, madam," observed the Cardinal. "These three sudden deaths are providential. They are utterances from God."

"'Providential,' as you say Monsignor Cardinal," pursued the Queen. "Nevertheless, the Huguenots are pushing the campaign with great vigor, while the Catholic chiefs are flagging. You thought my presence at the camp of Roche-la-Belle would exert a favorable influence upon the fate of the campaign. Accordingly, I am on the way to join our army. Now, however, you indicate to me that this journey might lead to unexpected discoveries. You even dropped the word 'treason.' Once more I must say to you, Monsignor Cardinal, I see in all this the evolutions of the falcon, but not yet the prey that it threatens. In short, if there is treason, tell me where it lies. If there is a traitor, name him. Speak out plainly."

"Very well, madam. There is a plot concocted by Marshal Tavannes. The revelation seems to cause your Majesty to start. I beg your leave to go into the details of the affair. You will then be instructed upon its purpose."

"Monsignor Cardinal, no act of treason can surprise me. All I care to understand is the cause that brings the treason about. Please continue your revelations."

"I have it from good authority that Marshal Tavannes is negotiating with Monsieur Coligny. In present circumstances, negotiations smack of treason."

"And what do you presume, Monsignor Cardinal, is the purpose of the negotiations between Tavannes and Coligny?"

"To induce your Majesty's son, the Duke of Anjou, to embrace the Reformation and join the Huguenots."

"Is my son of Anjou supposed to be implicated in the plot? That, indeed, would mightily surprise me."

"Yes, madam. The Emperor of Germany and Monsieur Coligny have promised to the Duke of Anjou, in case he consents to go over to the reformers, the sovereignty of the Low Countries, of Saintonge and of Poitou. They hope to drive the young Prince into open revolt against his reigning brother, his Majesty Charles IX."

"Monsignor Cardinal, your insinuations, affecting as they do a son of the royal house of France, are of so grave a nature that I am bound to presume you have, ready at hand, the proofs of the plot which you are revealing to me. I demand that you produce the proofs instantly."

"I am at the orders of my Queen. I now hasten to spread before your Majesty's eyes the correspondence relating to the plot. Here is a letter from his Majesty Philip II of Spain, who was the first to get wind of the scheme, through one of his agents in the Low Countries. Furthermore, here are the written propositions from his Catholic Majesty and the Holy Father for common action with your Majesty against the Huguenot rebellion and heresy."

"What are the propositions of his Catholic Majesty and venerated Pontiff?"

"King Philip II and our Holy Father Pius V offer to your Majesty, besides the five thousand Walloon and Italian soldiers that now reinforce our army, a new corps of six thousand men – under the condition that your Majesty remove Marshal Tavannes and place the supreme command of the troops in the hands of the Duke of Alva."

"Accordingly," replied Catherine De Medici, fixing her eyes upon the Cardinal, "our two allies, His Holiness and King Philip II demand that the Duke of Alva, a Spanish general, be the commandant in chief of the French forces?"

"That is their condition, madam. But it is also agreed that the Duke of Alva is to exercise a nominal command only, and that the military operations shall be conducted by my brother of Aumale and my nephew Henry of Guise, who are to be his immediate subalterns."

Catherine De Medici remained impassive, betraying neither astonishment nor anger at the proposition to deliver the command of the French royal troops to the Duke of Alva, the pestiferous menial of Philip II, and to strengthen the Duke's hand with the support of the brother and the nephew of the prelate. The Queen seemed to reflect. After a short pause she said to the Cardinal:

"The proposition is not inacceptable. It may serve as the basis for some combination that we may offer later."

Despite his self-control, the Cardinal's face betrayed his secret joy. The Queen seemed not to notice it, and proceeded:

"The first thing to do would then be to withdraw my son of Anjou from the command of the army."

"The principal thing to do, madam, would be to remonstrate with the young Prince, and to separate him from his present evil advisers."

"That, indeed, would be the wisest course to pursue, if that plot exists, as I very much fear it can not be doubted in sight of the proofs you have presented to me. And yet, I must be frank to confess, I feel some repugnance against placing the Duke of Alva at the head of our army. I would be afraid, above all, of displeasing the other military chiefs and high dignitaries of our court. The measure will seem an outrage to them."

"I have the honor of reminding your Majesty that, in that case, my brother and my nephew will be joined to the Duke of Alva."

"You may feel certain, Monsignor Cardinal, that, without the express condition of Messieurs of Aumale and Guise being joined to the Spanish generalissimo, I would not for a moment have lent an ear to the scheme."

Thrown off the scent by the Queen, the prelate answered enthusiastically:

"Oh, madam, I swear to God the throne has not a more faithful supporter than the house of Guise."

"The fraud! The scamp!" said the Italian woman to herself. "I have probed his thoughts! I scent his treason! But I am compelled to conceal my feelings and to humor his family, however heartily I abhor it."

One of the Queen's pages, posted outside the door of the apartment and authorized at certain emergencies of the service to enter the Queen's cabinet without being called, parted the portieres, and bowing respectfully, said:

"Madam, the Count of La Riviere, captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou, has just arrived from camp, and requests to be introduced to your Majesty immediately."

"Bring him in," answered Catherine De Medici. And as the page was about to withdraw, she added: "Should Monsieur Gondi arrive this evening, or even later in the night, let me be notified without delay."

The page bowed a second time, and withdrew. The Queen's last words seemed to cause the Cardinal some uneasiness. He asked with surprise:

"Does madam expect Monsieur Gondi?"

"Gondi must have received a letter from me at Poitiers, in which I ordered him to meet me at the camp of my son, instead of pursuing his route to Paris."

The Guisard had not quite recovered from his surprise when the Count of La Riviere, captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou, was ushered in by the page. Catherine De Medici said to the prelate with a sweet smile:

"We shall see each other again to-night, Monsignor Cardinal. I shall need the advice of my friends in these sad complications. I shall want yours."

Charles of Lorraine understood that he was expected to withdraw; he bowed respectfully to the Queen and left the apartment, a prey to racking apprehensions.

The captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou stepped forward, and presenting a letter to Catherine De Medici, said:

"Madam, my master ordered me to place this letter in your Majesty's own hands."

"Is my son's health good?" inquired the Queen, taking the missive. "What is the news in the army?"

"My master is in admirable health, madam. Yesterday there was a skirmish of vanguards between us and the Huguenots. The affair was of little importance – only a few men killed on either side."

Catherine broke the seal on the letter. As her eyes ran over its contents, her face, which at first was rigid with apprehension, gradually relaxed, and reflected gladness and profound satisfaction.

"The Guisard," she muttered to herself, "dared accuse my son of negotiating with Admiral Coligny. The infamous calumniator!" And turning to her son's ambassador: "My son informs me of your plan, monsieur. You wish to serve God, the King and France. Your arm and your heart are at our disposal?"

"Madam, I am anxious to emulate Monsieur Montesquiou – and to rid the King of one of his most dangerous enemies."

"You will surpass Monsieur Montesquiou if you succeed! One Coligny is worth ten Condés. But are you sure of the man whom my son mentions?"

"The man swore by his soul that he would not falter. He received six thousand livres on account of the fifty thousand promised to him. The rest is not to be paid until the thing is done. That is our guarantee."