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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..55f68c1 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66620 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66620) diff --git a/old/66620-0.txt b/old/66620-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 977319e..0000000 --- a/old/66620-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,21761 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ascanio, by Alexandre Dumas - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Ascanio - The romances of Alexandre Dumas, Volume XI - -Author: Alexandre Dumas - -Release Date: October 27, 2021 [eBook #66620] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASCANIO *** - -The Sydney Library Edition - - -THE ROMANCES - -OF - -ALEXANDRE DUMAS - - - - -ASCANIO - -PARTS I. AND II. - -Volume XI. - - - - -[Illustration 01] - - -[Illustration 02] - - - - -THE ROMANCES OF -ALEXANDRE DUMAS - - - - -Volume XI. - - - - -ASCANIO - - - - -_PART FIRST_ - - - - -NEW YORK - -GEORGE D. SPROUL - -Publisher - -1898 - - - - -_Copyright, 1896_, - -By Little, Brown, and Company. - - - - -University Press: - -John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. - - - - -INTRODUCTORY NOTE - - -"Never perhaps," says Miss Pardoe (in the Preface to the "Court and -Reign of Francis I."), "did the reign of any European sovereign present -so many and such varying phases. A contest for empire, a captive -monarch, a female regency, and a religious war; the poisoned bowl and -the burning pile alike doing their work of death amid scenes of -uncalculating splendor and unbridled dissipation; the atrocities of -bigotry and intolerance, blent with the most unblushing licentiousness -and the most undisguised profligacy;--such are the materials offered to -the student by the times of Francis I." - -The period thus characterized is that in which the scene of the present -romance is laid, and although the plot is mainly concerned with the -fortunes of others than subjects of the _Roi Chevalier_, we are treated -to a succession of vivid pictures of life and manners at the French -court and in the French capital. - -The author depicts the king rather as he appeared to the world before -what has been called the "legend of the Roi Chevalier,"--that is to say, -the long prevailing idea that François I. was the most chivalrous -monarch who ever sat upon a European throne,--had been modified by the -independent researches of those who have not feared to go behind the -writings of the old and well tutored chroniclers whose works have formed -the basis of most modern histories,--chroniclers who seem to have been -guided by Cardinal Richelieu's famous remark to an aspiring historian, -apropos of certain animadversions upon the character of Louis XI., that -"it is treason to discuss the actions of a king who has been dead only -two centuries." - -The result of these researches is thus summed up by Miss Pardoe in the -same Preface:-- - -"The glorious day of Marignano saw the rising, and that of Pavia the -setting, of his fame as a soldier; so true it is that the prowess of the -man was shamed by that of the boy. The early and unregretted death of -one of his neglected queens, and the heart-broken endurance of the -other, contrasted with the unbounded influence of his first favorite and -the insolent arrogance of his second, will sufficiently demonstrate his -character as a husband. His open and illegal oppression of an overtaxed -and suffering people to satisfy the cravings of an extortionate and -licentious court, will suffice to disclose his value as a monarch; while -the reckless indifference with which he falsified his political pledges, -abandoned his allies in their extremity in order to further his own -interests, and sacrificed the welfare of his kingdom and the safety of -his armies to his own puerile vanity, will complete a picture by no -means calculated to elicit one regret that his reign was not prolonged." - -Victor Hugo dared to puncture the "legend," when, in the play of "Le Roi -s'Amuse," he represented the "knightly king" as being enticed to a low -water-side hovel by the charms of a girl of the street; but even the -government of the Citizen King, Louis-Philippe, could not brook such an -attack upon the "divinity that doth hedge a king," and, after the first -performance in 1832, the strong hand of the censorship was laid upon the -play, and fifty years elapsed before it again saw the light upon the -stage. - -The first titular favorite of King François, the Comtesse de -Châteaubriand, whose character was in every respect diametrically -opposed to that of her successor, was an object of dislike and dread to -Louise de Savoie, the king's mother, because of her unbounded influence -over François. When he returned to France, after his captivity in Spain -following upon his defeat at Pavia, his passion for Madame de -Châteaubriand was found to have increased rather than diminished. In -looking about for some means to kill this passion, and in that way put -an end to the influence of the favorite, Louise de Savoie was not -obliged to go beyond the lovely and licentious circle of her own maids -of honor. She found in Anne de Pisseleu, Mademoiselle d'Heilly, that -combination of loveliness, youth, frailty, and forwardness which she -required for her purpose, and so arranged her first presentation to the -king that the desired effect was produced almost immediately. It was not -long before a suitably complaisant husband was found for the new -divinity, in the person of the Duc d'Etampes, and she had soon entirely -supplanted Madame de Châteaubriand, driven her from court, and entered -upon a period of queenly power and magnificence, which was to endure -with little change or diminution for full twenty years, and until the -death of her royal lover and slave in 1547. - -"His excessive passion for the artful favorite blinded him to her -vices," says Miss Pardoe. "Already had she taught him that her love was -to be retained only by an entire devotion; and even while he suffered -her to become the arbiter of his own actions, she betrayed him with a -recklessness as bold as it was degrading. Nothing, moreover, could -satisfy her rapacity; and while distress, which amounted almost to -famine, oppressed the lower classes of the citizens, she greedily seized -upon every opportunity of enriching herself and aggrandizing her -family."[1] - -The following passage from the same interesting and painstaking work, if -compared with the episode in "Ascanio" of Madame d'Etampes's designs -upon Colombe, will serve to illustrate the extreme fidelity to -historical truth, even in what may seem to be minor matters, which so -amply justifies the title of "Historical Romances" as applied to this -and many other of Dumas's works:-- - -"We pass over, for obvious reasons, the minor influences, each perhaps -insignificant in itself, but in the aggregate fearfully mischievous, -which were exercised by the fair and frail maids of honor, each, or -nearly each, being in her turn the 'Cynthia of the minute,' and more -than one of whom owed her temporary favor to the Duchesse d'Etampes -herself, whose secret intrigues and undisguised ambition absorbed more -of her time than could have been left at her disposal, had she not -provided the inconstant but exacting monarch with some new object of -interest; and the tact with which she selected these facile beauties was -not one of the least of her talents. Never, upon any occasion, did she -direct the attention of the king to a woman whose intellect might have -secured, after the spell of her beauty had ceased to attract him. The -young and the lovely were her victims only when their youth and their -loveliness were their sole attractions. She was ever ready to supply her -royal lover with a new mistress, but never with a friend, a companion, -or a counsellor; and then, as she had rightly foreseen, the French -Sardanapalus soon became sated by the mere prettiness of his female -satellites, and returned to his allegiance to herself, weaned, and more -her slave than ever."[2] - -A curious parallel in this regard may be noted between the course of the -Duchesse d'Etampes and the similar one pursued by Madame de Pompadour, -two centuries later, to maintain her power over the prematurely aged -Louis XV. The policy of this "minister in petticoats" was embodied in -the institution of the famous, or infamous, Parc-aux-Cerfs. - -The request of the Emperor Charles V. to be allowed to pass through -France on his way to chastise the rebellious people of Ghent, and the -conflicting emotions to which it gave rise at the French court, have -been much discussed by historians. It seems to have been the case that -the Connétable Anne de Montmorency--then in the prime of life, and whom -readers of the "Two Dianas" will remember in his old age as the loser of -the battle of Saint-Laurent, and the favored rival of King Henri II. in -the affections of Diane de Poitiers--was the only one of the king's -advisers who opposed requiring Charles to give sureties of his peaceable -intentions, and to declare in writing that he traversed France only upon -sufferance. The constable's advice was adopted, notwithstanding the -opposition of Madame d'Etampes, who strongly urged the king to take -revenge for his own imprisonment at Madrid by improving the opportunity -to inflict the same treatment upon his life-long rival and adversary. -The incident of Triboulet, the jester, and the tablets upon which he -inscribed the names of the greatest fools in the world, is historical. - -The anecdote of the presentation of the diamond ring by the Emperor to -the favorite is told by Miss Pardoe substantially as by Dumas, but it is -rejected by most historians of the time. There is no question, however, -that the duchess was so alarmed by the condition of the king's health, -which was prematurely impaired by his dissolute life, and so -apprehensive of her own fate when he should be succeeded by the Dauphin -Henri, then a willing slave to the charms of her bitter enemy, Diane de -Poitiers, that she exerted herself to the utmost to win the affection of -the young Duc d'Orléans, and to procure some sort of an independent -government for him. All her plans in that direction were defeated by -that prince's death of the plague in 1545. - -The dazzling and voluptuous Diane de Poitiers, mistress of two kings of -France, the beautiful and accomplished, but cruel and treacherous -Catherine de Medicis, wife of one and mother of three, are familiar -historical characters, with whom Dumas has dealt more fully in others of -his works. - -The learned and accomplished author of the "Heptameron," Marguerite de -Valois, Queen of Navarre and sister of François I., of whom we obtain a -fleeting glimpse or two, is in many respects the most attractive -personality of the time. It is a cause for deep regret, however, that -her great affection for her brother did not lead her to exert her -undoubted influence over him to a better end. - -As we pass from the king and his immediate circle, to glance for a -moment at the other characters, with whom and with certain passages in -their lives the romance before us is mainly concerned, we venture to -quote once more the same author so copiously quoted heretofore:-- - -"One merit must, however, be conceded to Anne de Pisseleu; and as -throughout her whole career we have been unable to trace any other good -quality which she possessed, it cannot be passed over in silence. -Educated highly for the period, she loved study for its own sake, and -afforded protection to men of letters; although it must be admitted -that, wherever her passions or vanity were brought into play, she -abandoned them and their interests without hesitation or scruple. -Nevertheless it is certain that she co-operated, not only willingly, but -even zealously, with the king, in attracting to the court of France all -the distinguished talent of Europe."[3] - -The favorite's passions and vanity were brought into play in the ease of -Benvenuto Cellini, and she certainly abandoned him and his interests -without hesitation or scruple. - -The principal source whence our knowledge of this extraordinary man is -drawn, is his own Autobiography, which has been several times translated -into English, most recently by that eminent author and critic, the late -John Addington Symonds. - -The following extracts from the translator's scholarly Introduction will -serve a useful purpose in that they will show that the picture drawn of -him by Dumas is in no sense exaggerated, and that he really possessed -the extraordinary characteristics attributed to him in the following -pages, and which would seem almost incredible without some confirmatory -evidence:-- - -"A book which the great Goethe thought worthy of translating into German -with the pen of 'Faust' and 'Wilhelm Meister,' a book which Auguste -Comte placed upon his very limited list for the perusal of reformed -humanity, is one with which we have the right to be occupied, not once -or twice, but over and over again. - -* * * * * * * * * - -"No one was less introspective than this child of the Italian -Renaissance. No one was less occupied with thoughts about thinking or -with the presentation of psychological experience. Vain, ostentatious, -self-laudatory, and self-engrossed as Cellini was, he never stopped to -analyze himself. . . . The word 'confessions' could not have escaped his -lips; a _Journal Intime_ would have been incomprehensible to his fierce, -virile spirit. His Autobiography is the record of action and passion. -Suffering, enjoying, enduring, working with restless activity; hating, -loving, hovering from place to place as impulse moves him; the man -presents himself dramatically by his deeds and spoken words, never by -his ponderings or meditative broodings. - -"In addition to these solid merits, his life, as Horace Walpole put it, -is 'more amusing than any novel.' We have a real man to deal with,--a -man so realistically brought before us that we seem to hear him speak -and see him move; a man, moreover, whose eminently characteristic works -of art in a great measure still survive among us. Yet the adventures of -this potent human actuality will bear comparison with those of Gil Bias, -or the Comte de Monte Cristo, or Quentin Durward, or Les Trois -Mousquetaires, for their variety and pungent interest. - -* * * * * * * * * - -"But what was the man himself? It is just this question which I have -half promised to answer, implying that, as a translator, I have some -special right to speak upon the subject. - -"Well, then: I seem to know Cellini first of all as a man possessed by -intense, absorbing egotism; violent, arrogant, self-assertive, -passionate; conscious of great gifts for art, physical courage, and -personal address. . . . To be self-reliant in all circumstances; to -scheme and strike, if need be, in support of his opinion or his right; -to take the law into his own hands for the redress of injury or -insult;--this appeared to him the simple duty of an honorable man. . . . -He possessed the temperament of a born artist, blent in almost equal -proportions with that of a born bravo. Throughout the whole of his -tumultuous career these two strains contended in his nature for mastery. -Upon the verge of fifty-six, when a man's blood has generally cooled, we -find that he was released from prison on bail, and bound over to keep -the peace for a year with some enemy whose life was probably in danger; -and when I come to speak about his homicides, it will be obvious that he -enjoyed killing live men quite as much as casting bronze statues. - -* * * * * * * * * - -"He consistently poses as an injured man, whom malevolent scoundrels and -malignant stars conspired to persecute. Nor does he do this with any bad -faith. His belief in himself remained firm as adamant, and he candidly -conceived that he was under the special providence of a merciful and -loving God, who appreciated his high and virtuous qualities." - -Bearing in mind that all the seemingly fabulous anecdotes related of -Cellini, or put into his own mouth, by Dumas, are actually told by -himself in his Autobiography, the conclusions of Mr. Symonds as to the -artist's veracity cannot fail to be interesting:-- - -"Among Cellini's faults I do not reckon either baseness or lying. He was -not a rogue, and he meant to be veracious. This contradicts the -commonplace and superficial view of his character so flatly that I must -support my opinion at some length. Of course I shall not deny that a -fellow endowed with such overweening self-conceit, when he comes to -write about himself, will set down much which cannot be taken entirely -on trust. . . . Men of his stamp are certain to exaggerate their own -merits, and to pass lightly over things not favorable to the ideal they -present. But this is very different from lying; and of calculated -mendacity Cellini stands almost universally accused. I believe that view -to be mistaken." - -Passing from general considerations to particular instances of Cellini's -alleged falsehoods, the learned translator proceeds to discuss at some -length many of the miraculous experiences and remarkable statements of -Cellini, which are to be found in these volumes. For example, the -founding of Florence by an imaginary ancestor of his own, named Fiorino -da Cellino, a captain in the army of Julius Cæsar; and his claim that -he shot the Constable of Bourbon from the ramparts of Rome in 1527, as -to which Mr. Symonds says: "Bourbon had been shot dead in the assault of -Rome upon that foggy morning, and Cellini had certainly discharged his -arquebuse from the ramparts. . . . If it were possible to put his -thoughts about this event into a syllogism, it would run as follows: -'Somebody shot Bourbon; I shot somebody; being what I am, I am inclined -to think the somebody I shot was Bourbon." - -It would be a much simpler task to make a list of the fictitious -characters and incidents in "Ascanio," than to enumerate those whose -existence or occurrence is well authenticated. Colombe and her governess -are apparently creations of the novelist's brain, and the same is true -of Hermann, little Jehan, Jacques Aubry and his light o' love. The -Provost of Paris was Jean d'Estouteville, not Robert d'Estourville; but -he was actually in possession of the Petit-Nesle, which was the abode -granted to Benvenuto by a deed which is still extant, as are the letters -of naturalization bestowed upon him. The trouble experienced by Cellini -in obtaining possession of the Petit-Nesle is considerably overdrawn, -and it does not appear that Ascanio was ever imprisoned. Ascanio's -character throughout is represented in a different light from that in -which it appears in the Autobiography, although he is there said to be -"a lad of marvellous talents, and, moreover, so fair of person that -every one who once set eyes on him seemed bound to love him beyond -measure." Benvenuto had much trouble with him, and used continually to -beat him; and he was very wroth when he found that his apprentice had -been using the head of the mammoth statue of Mars as a trysting place, -where he was accustomed to meet a frail damsel of his acquaintance. -Benvenuto tells the story of the injury to the hand of Raffaello del -Moro's daughter, and of his own share in her cure; but the element of -romance is altogether wanting in his own narrative of the relations -between himself and that "very beautiful" young woman. - -Catherine and Scozzone (Scorzone) were two women, not one, both models -and ephemeral mistresses of the artist. The episode of the amours of -Pagolo and Catherine is a very much softened version of an almost -unreadable passage in the memoirs. Of the episode itself, as told by -Cellini, Mr. Symonds says that it is one over which his biographers -would willingly draw the veil. - -It is impossible to imagine a more natural consequence of Benvenuto's -peculiar temperament than his absolute failure to make himself _persona -grata_ to the arrogant, self-seeking mistress of the King of France. -François was oftentimes hard put to it to reconcile his admiration for -the work of the artist with his desire to please the favorite; but in -presence of one of his masterpieces the former sentiment generally -carried the day,--notably on the occasion of the exhibition of the -Jupiter at Fontainebleau, in competition with the antique statues -brought from Rome by Primaticcio. After describing the scene in the -gallery substantially as it is described in the novel, Cellini says: -"The king departed sooner than he would otherwise have done," (on -account of the rage of the duchess,) "calling aloud, however, to -encourage me, 'I have brought from Italy the greatest man who ever -lived, endowed with all the talents.'" - -A passage in Mr. Symonds's Introduction to the Life, too long to be -quoted here, shows that Benvenuto left France somewhat under a cloud, -and followed by suspicions of dishonest dealing, which have never been -quite satisfactorily cleared away. - -Enough has been said to show that in this book, as always in his -historical romances, Dumas has substantially rewritten a chapter of -history,--for the visit of Benvenuto Cellini to Paris has been deemed -worthy of notice at considerable length by more than one grave -chronicler; and he has again demonstrated his very exceptional power of -interweaving history and fiction in such a way as to make each embellish -the other. - - -[Footnote 1: The Court and Reign of Francis I., King of France, Vol. II. -Chap. XI.] - -[Footnote 2: Miss Pardoe, Vol. III. Chap. I.] - -[Footnote 3: Miss Pardoe. Vol. II. Chap XI.] - - - - -LIST OF CHARACTERS - - -Period, 1540. - - -FRANÇOIS I., King of France. - -ELEANORA, his queen, sister to Charles V. - -THE DAUPHIN, afterwards Henri II. - -CHARLES D'ORLÉANS, the king's second son. - -THE DAUPHINE, Catherine de Medicis. - -THE EMPEROR CHARLES V. - -THE KING OF NAVARRE. - -MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, Queen of Navarre. - -ANNE DE PISSELEU, Duchesse d'Etampes, favorite of François I. - -DIANE DE POITIERS. - -BENVENUTO CELLINI, a Florentine artist. - -ASCANIO, his pupil. - -MESSIRE ROBERT D'ESTOURVILLE, Provost of Paris. - -COLOMBE, his daughter. - -COMTE D'ORBEC, the king's treasurer. - -VICOMTE DE MARMAGNE, a suitor for Colombe's hand. - -THE DUKE OF MEDINA-SIDONIA, ambassador of Charles V. - -MONSIEUR DE MONTBRION, governor of Charles d'Orléans. - -CONSTABLE ANNE DE MONTMORENCY,} - -CHANCELLOR POYET,} - -CARDINAL DE TOURNON,} - -MESSIRE ANTOINE LE MAÇON,} - -COMTE DE LA FAYE,} of the French Court. - -MARQUIS DES PRÉS,} - -MELIN DE SAINT-GELAIS,} - -M. DE TERMES,} - -HENRI D'ESTIENNE,} - -PIETRO STROZZI, a Florentine refugee. - -TRIBOULET, the king's jester. - -FRANÇOIS RABELAIS. - -CLEMENT MAROT. - -PAGOLO,} - -JEHAN,} - assistants of Cellini. -SIMON-LE-GAUCHER,} - -HERMANN,} - -SCOZZONE, Cellini's model. - -RUPERTA, servant to Cellini. - -DAME PERRINE, Colombo's governess. - -PULCHERIA, her assistant. - -MASTER JACQUES, Messire d'Estourville's gardener. - -ISABEAU, attendant of Madame d'Etampes. - -ANDRÉ, physician to Madame d'Etampes. - -JACQUES AUBRY, a student, attaching himself to the service of -Cellini. - -GERVAISE-PERRETTE POPINOT, a grisette. - -FRANCESCO PRIMATICCIO, a painter, friend to Cellini. - -GUIDO, a Florentine physician, - -FERRANTE,} - -FRACASSO,} - bravos employed by Vicomte de Marmagne. -PROCOPE,} - -MALEDENT,} - -THE LIEUTENANT CRIMINAL OF THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE. - -MARC-BONIFACE GRIMOINEAU, his clerk. - -ETIENNE RAYMOND, a prisoner at the Châtelet. - -A PRIEST AT THE CHÂTELET. - -POPE CLEMENT VII. - -MASTER GEORGIO, governor of the Castle of San Angelo. - -MONSEIGNEUR DE MONTLUC, French ambassador at Rome. - -POMPEO, a goldsmith at Rome. - -RAPHAEL DEL MORO, a Florentine goldsmith. - -STEFANA, his daughter. - -GISMONDO GADDI, a confrère of Del Moro. - - - - -CONTENTS - -Chapter - -I. The Street and the Studio - -II. A Goldsmith of the Sixteenth Century - -III. Dædalus - -IV. Scozzone - -V. Genius and Royalty - -VI. To What Use A Duenna May Be Put - -VII. A Lover and a Friend - -VIII. Preparations for Attack and Defence - -IX. Thrust and Parry - -X. Of the Advantage of Fortified Towns - -XI. Owls, Magpies, and Nightingales - -XII. The King's Queen - -XIII. Souvent Femme Varie - -XIV. Wherein it is proven that Sorrow is -the Groundwork of the Life of Man - -XV. Wherein it appears that Joy is nothing -more than Sorrow in another Form - -XVI. A Court - -XVII. Love as Passion - -XVIII. Love as a Dream - -XIX. Love as an Idea - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -Francis I - -_Drawn by E. van Mughen._ - -Francis I. visits Benvenuto Cellini. - -"Ascanio, beside himself with joy, fell on his -knees." - -"'Your Majesty is losing your ring,' said -Anne." - -"All the workmen joined in a cry of admiration." - - - - -ASCANIO - - - - -I - - -THE STREET AND THE STUDIO - - -Time, four o'clock in the afternoon of the tenth day of July in the year -of grace 1540. Place, the entrance to the church Des Grands Augustins, -within the precincts of the University, by the receptacle for holy water -near the door. - -A tall, handsome youth, olive-skinned, with long waving locks and great -black eyes, simply but elegantly clad, his only weapon a little dagger -with a hilt of marvellous workmanship, was standing there, and, -doubtless from motives of pure piety and humility, had not stirred from -the spot throughout the vespers service. With head bowed in an attitude -of devout contemplation, he was murmuring beneath his breath I know not -what words,--his prayers let us hope,--for he spoke so low that none but -himself and God could hear what he might say. As the service drew near -its close, however, he raised his voice slightly, and they who stood -nearest him could hear these half-audible words:-- - -"How wretchedly these French monks drone out their psalms! Could they -not sing more melodiously before her, whose ear should be accustomed to -angels' voices? Ah! this is well; the vespers are at an end at last. Mon -Dieu! mon Dieu! grant that I be more fortunate to-day than on last -Sunday, and that she do at least raise her eyes to my face!" - -This last prayer was most artful, in very truth; for if she to whom it -was addressed should chance to raise her eyes to the suppliant's face, -she would see the most adorable youthful head that she had ever seen in -dreams, while reading the eleven mythological tales which were so -fashionable at the time, by virtue of the charming couplets of Master -Clement Marot, and which told of the loves of Psyche and the death of -Narcissus. Indeed, beneath his simple sober-hued costume, the youth whom -we have introduced to our readers was remarkably handsome, and wore an -air of unmistakable refinement: moreover, his smile was infinitely sweet -and attractive, and his glance, which dared not yet be bold, was as -ardent and impassioned as ever flashed from the great speaking eyes of -eighteen years. - -Meanwhile, upon hearing the movement of many chairs announcing the end -of the service, our lover,--for the reader will have discovered from the -few words he has uttered that he is entitled to be so described,--our -lover, I say, drew aside a little, and watched the congregation pass -silently forth,--a congregation composed of staid church-wardens, -respectable matrons past their giddy days, and prepossessing damsels. -But for none of these had the youth come thither, for his glance did not -brighten, nor did he step impulsively forward, until he saw approach a -maiden dressed in white, and attended by a duenna,--a duenna of high -station, be it understood,--who seemed accustomed to the ways of -society, a duenna not unyouthful nor unattractive, and by no means -savage in appearance. When the two ladies approached the basin of holy -water, our youth took some of the liquid and gallantly offered it to -them. - -The duenna bestowed the most gracious of smiles and most grateful of -courtesies upon him, and even touched his fingers as she took the cup, -which, to his great chagrin, she herself handed to her companion; but -the latter, notwithstanding the fervent prayer whereof she had been the -object a few moments before, kept her eyes constantly upon the -ground,--a sure proof that she knew the comely youth was there,--so that -the comely youth, when she had passed, stamped upon the flags, -muttering, "Alas! again she did not see me." An equally sure proof that -the comely youth was, as we have said, no more than eighteen years old. - -But after the first burst of vexation, our unknown hastened down the -steps of the church, and, seeing that the absent-minded beauty, having -lowered her veil and taken her attendant's arm, had turned to the right, -hastened to take the same direction, observing that his own home chanced -to lie that way. The maiden followed the quay as far as Pont -Saint-Michel, and crossed Pont Saint-Michel; still it was our hero's -road. She next passed through Rue de la Barillerie, and crossed Pont au -Change; and as she was still pursuing our hero's road, our hero followed -her like her shadow. - -Every pretty girl's shadow is a lover. - -But alas! when she reached the Grand Châtelet, the lovely star, whereof -our unknown had made himself the satellite, was suddenly eclipsed: the -wicket of the royal prison opened the instant that the duenna knocked, -and closed again behind them. - -The young man was taken aback for a moment; but as he was a very decided -fellow when there was no pretty girl at hand to weaken his resolution, -he very soon made up his mind what course to pursue. - -A sergeant, pike on shoulder, was walking sedately back and forth before -the door of the Châtelet. Our youthful unknown followed the example of -the worthy sentinel, and, having walked on a short distance to avoid -observation, but not so far as to lose sight of the door, he heroically -began his amorous sentry-go. - -If the reader has ever done sentry duty in the course of his life, he -must have noticed that one of the surest means of making the time pass -quickly is to commune with one's self. Our hero doubtless was accustomed -to such duty, for he had hardly begun his promenade when he addressed -the following monologue to himself:-- - -"Assuredly it cannot be that she lives in yonder prison. This morning -after mass, and these last two Sundays when I dared not follow her save -with my eyes,--dullard that I was!--she turned not to the right upon the -quay, but to the left, toward the Porte de Nesle, and the -Pré-aux-Cleres. What the devil brings her to the Châtelet? What can it -be? To see a prisoner, perhaps, her brother 't is most like. Poor girl! -she must suffer cruelly, for doubtless she is as sweet and kind as she -is lovely. Pardieu! I'm sorely tempted to accost her, ask her frankly -who it is, and offer my services. If it be her brother, I'll tell the -patron the whole story, and ask his advice. When one has escaped from -the Castle of San Angelo, as he has, one has a shrewd idea of the best -way to get out of prison. There's no more to be said: I'll save her -brother. After I have rendered him such a service, he'll be my friend -for life and death. Of course he'll ask me then what he can do for me -when I have done so much for him. Then I'll confess that I love his -sister. He'll present me to her, and then we'll see if she won't raise -her eyes." - -Once launched upon such a course, we need not say how a lover's thoughts -flow on unchecked. Thus it was that our youth was vastly amazed to hear -the clock strike four, and see the sentinel relieved. - -The new sergeant began his promenade, and the young man resumed his. His -method of passing time had succeeded too well for him not to continue to -make use of it; so he resumed his discourse upon a theme no less -fruitful of ideas than the other:-- - -"How lovely she is! how graceful every movement! how modest her bearing! -how classic the outline of her features! There is in the whole world no -other than Leonardo da Vinci or the divine Raphael, worthy to reproduce -the image of that chaste and spotless being; nor would they prove equal -to the task, save at the very zenith of their talent. O mon Dieu! why am -not I a painter, rather than a sculptor, worker in enamel, or goldsmith? -First of all, were I a painter, there'd be no need that I should have -her before my eyes to make her portrait. I should never cease to see her -great blue eyes, her beautiful blonde tresses, her pearly skin and -slender form. Were I a painter, I should paint her face in every -picture, as Sanzio did with Fornarina, and Andrea del Sarto with -Lucrezia. And what a contrast betwixt her and Fornarina! in sooth, -neither the one nor the other is worthy to unloose her shoe laces. In -the first place, Fornarina--" - -The youth was not at the end of his comparisons, which were, as the -reader will imagine, uniformly to the advantage of his inamorata, when -the hour struck. - -The second sentinel was relieved. - -"Six o'clock! 'T is strange how the time flies!" muttered the youth, -"and if it flies thus quickly while I wait for her, how should it be if -I were by her side! Ah! by her side I should lose count of time; I -should be in paradise. If I were by her side, I should but look at her, -and so the hours and days and months would pass. What a blissful life -that would be, mon Dieu!" and the young man lost himself in an ecstatic -reverie; for his mistress, though absent, seemed to pass in person -before his eyes,--the eyes of a true artist. - -The third sentinel was relieved. - -Eight o'clock struck on all the parish churches, and the shades of night -began to fall, for all authorities are in accord that the twilight hour -in July three hundred years ago was in the neighborhood of eight -o'clock, as now; but what is perhaps more astonishing than that is the -fabulous perseverance of a sixteenth century lover. All passions were -ardent in those days, and vigorous young hearts no more stopped short in -love than in art or war. - -However, the patience of the young artist--for he has let us into the -secret of his profession--was rewarded at last, when he saw the -ponderous door of the Châtelet open for the twentieth time, but this -time to give passage to her for whom he was waiting. The same chaperon -was still at her side, and furthermore, two archers of the provost's -guard followed ten paces behind her, as escort. - -They retraced the steps they had taken four hours earlier, to wit the -Pont au Change, Rue de la Barillerie, Pont Saint-Michel, and the quays; -but they kept on by the Grands Augustins, and some three hundred yards -beyond paused before a huge door in a recess in the wall, beside which -was another smaller door for the servants' use. The duenna knocked at -the great door, which was opened by the porter. The two archers, after -saluting their charge with the utmost respect, returned to the -Châtelet, and our artist found himself standing for the second time -outside a closed door. - -He would probably have remained there until morning, for he was fairly -embarked on the fourth series of his dreams; but chance willed that a -passer by, who had imbibed something too freely, collided violently with -him. - -"Hola there, friend!" said the new arrival, "by your leave, are you a -man or a post? If so be you're a post, you're within your rights and I -respect you; but if you be a man, stand back, and let me pass." - -"Pray pardon me," rejoined the distraught youth, "but I am a stranger in -this good city of Paris, and--" - -"Oh! that's another matter; the Frenchman is always hospitable, and I -ask your pardon; you're a stranger, good. As you have told me who you -are, it's only fair that I should tell you who I am. I am a student, and -my name is--" - -"Excuse me," interposed the young artist, "but before I know who you -are, I would be very glad to know where I am." - -"Porte de Nesle, my dear friend; this is the Hôtel de Nesle," said the -student, with a glance at the great door from which the stranger had not -once removed his eyes. - -"Very good; and to reach Rue Saint-Martin, where I live, which direction -must I take?" said our lovelorn youth, for the sake of saying something, -and hoping thus to be rid of his companion. - -"Rue Saint-Martin, do you say? Come with me, I'm going that way, and at -Pont Saint-Michel I'll show you how you must go. As I was saying, I am a -student, I am returning from the Pré-aux-Clercs, and my name is--" - -"Do you know to whom the Hôtel de Nesle belongs?" asked the young -stranger. - -"Marry! I rather think I know my University! The Hôtel de Nesle, young -man, belongs to our lord, the king, and is at this moment in the hands -of Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris." - -"How say you! that the Provost of Paris lives there?" - -"By no means did I tell you that the Provost of Paris lives there, my -son: the Provost of Paris lives at the Grand Châtelet." - -"Ah, yes! at the Grand Châtelet! Then that's the explanation. But how -happens it that the provost lives at the Grand Châtelet, and yet the -king leaves the Hôtel de Nesle in his possession?" - -"'T is thus. The king, you see, had given the Hôtel de Nesle to our -bailli, a most venerable man, who stood guard over the privileges of the -University, and tried all suits against it in most paternal fashion: -superb functions his! Unhappily our excellent bailli was so just--so -just--to us, that his office was abolished two years since, upon the -pretext that he used to sleep when hearing causes, as if _bailli_ were -not derived from _bâiller_ (to yawn). His office being thus suppressed, -the duty of protecting the interests of the University was intrusted to -the Provost of Paris. A fine protector, on my word! as if we could not -quite as well protect ourselves! How, our said provost--dost thou follow -me, my child?--our said provost, who is most rapacious, opined that, -since he succeeded to the bailli's office, he ought at the same time to -inherit his possessions, and so he quietly laid hold of the Grand and -Petit-Nesle, thanks to the patronage of Madame d'Etampes." - -"And yet, you say, he does not occupy it." - -"Not he, the villain. I think, however, that the old Cassandre lodges a -daughter there, or niece, a lovely child called Colombe or Colombine, or -some such name, and keeps her under lock and key in a corner of the -Petit Nesle." - -"Ah! is it so?" exclaimed the artist, hardly able to breathe, for it was -the first time that he had heard his mistress's name; "this usurpation -seems to me a shocking abuse. What! this vast hotel to shelter one young -girl with her duenna!" - -"Whence comest thou, O stranger, not to know that nothing comes to pass -more naturally than this abuse,--that we poor clerks should live six -together in a wretched garret, while a great nobleman casts this immense -property with its gardens, lawns, and tennis-court to the dogs!" - -"Ah! there is a tennis-court!" - -"Magnificent, my son! magnificent!" - -"But this Hôtel de Nesle, you say, is actually the property of King -François I." - -"To be sure: but what would you have King François I. do with this -property of his?" - -"Why, give it to others, as the provost doesn't occupy it." - -"Very good: then go and ask it of him for yourself." - -"Why not? Tell me, does the game of tennis please your fancy?" - -"I fairly dote on it." - -"In that case I invite you to a game with me next Sunday." - -"Where, pray?" - -"At the Hôtel de Nesle." - -"Gramercy! my lord grand master of the royal châteaux! 'T is meet that -you should know my name at least--" - -But as the young stranger knew all that he cared to know, and as the -rest probably interested him but little, he heard not a word of his new -friend's story, as he proceeded to tell him in detail that his name was -Jacques Aubry, that he was a scrivener at the University, and was now -returning from the Pré-aux-Clercs, where he had had an assignation with -his tailor's wife; that she, detained no doubt by her wrathful spouse, -did not appear; that he had consoled himself for Simonne's absence by -drinking good Suresne; and, lastly, that he proposed to withdraw his -custom from the discourteous Master Snip, who compelled him to wear -himself out with waiting, and to get tipsy which was altogether opposed -to all his habits. - -When the two young men reached Rue de la Harpe, Jacques Aubry pointed -out to our unknown the road he was to follow, which he knew even better -than his informant: they then made an appointment for the following -Sunday at noon at the Porte de Nesle, and parted, one singing, the other -dreaming. - -He who dreamed had abundant food for dreaming, for he had learned more -during that one evening than in the three weeks preceding. - -He had learned that the maiden to whom he had given his heart, lived at -the Petit-Nesle, that she was the daughter of Messire Robert -d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, and that her name was Colombe. As will -be seen, he had not wasted his day. - -Still dreaming he turned into Rue Saint-Martin, and stopped before a -handsome house, over the door of which were carved the arms of the -Cardinal of Ferrara. He knocked three times. - -"Who's there?" demanded a fresh, resonant young voice from within, after -an interval of a few seconds. - -"I, Dame Catherine," replied the unknown. - -"Who are you?" - -"Ascanio." - -"Ah! at last!" - -The door opened, and Ascanio entered. - -A charming girl of some eighteen to twenty years, rather dark, rather -small, very quick of movement, and admirably well shaped withal, -welcomed him with transports of joy. - -"Here's the deserter! here he is!" she cried, and ran, or rather bounded -on before, to announce him, extinguishing the lamp she carried, and -leaving open the street door, which Ascanio, less giddy-pated than she, -was careful to secure. - -The young man, although Dame Catherine's precipitation left him in -darkness, walked with assured step across a courtyard of considerable -size, in which every tile was surrounded by a border of rank weeds, the -whole dominated by a sombre mass of tall buildings of somewhat severe -aspect. It was the frowning and humid dwelling-place of a cardinal, -although its master had not for a long time dwelt therein. - -Ascanio sprang lightly up a flight of moss-grown steps, and entered a -vast hall, the only room in the house that was lighted,--a sort of -conventual refectory, ordinarily dark and gloomy and untenanted, but -which for two months past had been filled with light and life and music. - -For two months past, in truth, this cold colossal cell had been instinct -with bustling, laughing, good-humored life; for two months past, ten -work-benches, two anvils, and an improvised forge had seemed to lessen -the size of the vast room; sketches, models, benches laden with pincers, -hammers, and files, sheaves of swords with chased hilts of marvellous -workmanship, and carved open-work blades, helmets, cuirasses, and -bucklers, gold-embossed, whereon the loves of the gods and goddesses -were portrayed in relief, as if to turn the mind away from the purpose -for which they were destined to be used, had covered the grayish walls. -The sun had freely found its way in through the wide open windows, and -the air had been filled with the songs of joyous, active workers. - -A cardinal's refectory had become a goldsmith's workshop. - -However, during this evening of July 10, 1540, the sanctity of the -Sabbath had temporarily restored to the newly enlivened apartment the -tranquillity in which it had lain dormant for a century. But a table, -upon which the remains of an excellent supper lay about in confusion, -lighted by a lamp which one would take to have been stolen from the -ruins of Pompeii, of so chaste and delicate a form was it, proved that, -if the temporary occupants of the cardinal's mansion did sometimes enjoy -repose, they were in no wise addicted to fasting. - -When Ascanio entered there were four persons in the workshop. - -These four persons were an old maid-servant, who was removing the dishes -from the table, Catherine, who was relighting the lamp, a young man -sketching in a corner, and waiting for the lamp which Catherine had -taken from before him in order to continue his work, and the master, -standing with folded arms, and leaning against the forge. - -The last would inevitably have been the first to be observed by any one -entering the workshop. - -Indeed, there was an indescribable impression of life and power which -emanated from this remarkable personage, and attracted the attention -even of those who would have chosen to withhold it. He was a tall, -spare, powerful man of some forty years; but it would have needed the -chisel of Michel-Angelo or the pencil of Ribeira to trace the outline of -that clear-cut profile, to reproduce that sparkling olive complexion, to -depict that bold, almost kingly expression. His lofty forehead towered -above eyebrows quick to frown; his straight-forward piercing glance -flashed at times with a light that was almost sublime; his frank, -good-humored smile, albeit somewhat satirical, fascinated and awed you -at the same time; he was accustomed to stroke his black beard and -moustache with his hand, which was not precisely small, but nervous, -supple, with long fingers and great strength, but withal slender and -aristocratic; lastly, in his way of looking at you, speaking, turning -his head, in all his quick, expressive, but not intemperate gestures, -even in the careless attitude in which he was standing when Ascanio -entered, his strength made itself felt; the lion in repose was none the -less the lion. - -Catherine and the apprentice working in the corner formed a most -striking contrast to each other. The latter, a sombre, taciturn fellow, -with a narrow forehead already furrowed with wrinkles, half shut eyes, -and compressed lips; she as blithe as a bird and blooming as a flower, -with the most mischievous of eyes always to be seen beneath her restless -eyelids, and the whitest of teeth within her mouth, constantly half -opened with a smile. The apprentice, buried in his corner, was slow and -languid in his movements, as if economizing his strength; Catherine was -here and there, going and coming, never remaining one second in one -spot, so did her youthful active organization overflow with life and -spirits, and feel the need of constant movement in default of -excitement. - -Thus she was the fairy of the household, a very skylark by virtue of -her vivacity, and her clear, piercing note, beginning life with such a -joyous disregard of every thing beyond the moment as to fully justify -the surname of _Scozzone_ which the master had given her; an Italian -word which signified then, and still signifies, something very like -_casse-cou_ (break-neck). And yet, with all her childish ways, Scozzone -was so instinct with witchery and charm that she was the life and soul -of the household; when she sang all the others were silent; when she -laughed they laughed with her; when she ordered they obeyed without a -word,--albeit she was not ordinarily exacting in her caprice; and then -she was so frankly and innocently happy, that she diffused an atmosphere -of good humor wherever she went, and it made others glad to see her -gladness. - -Her story was an old, old story, to which we may perhaps recur: an -orphan, born of the people, she was abandoned in her infancy, but God -protected her. Destined to afford pleasure to everybody, she met a man -to whom she afforded pure happiness. - -Having introduced these new characters, we now resume the thread of our -narrative where we let it drop. - -"Aha! whence comest thou, gadabout?" said the master to Ascanio. - -"Whence do I come? I come from gadding about for you, master." - -"Since morning?" - -"Since morning." - -"Say rather that thou hast been in quest of adventure?" - -"What manner of adventure should I have been in quest of, master?" -murmured Ascanio. - -"How can I know, pray?" - -"Well, well! and if it were so, where's the harm?" interposed Scozzone. -"Indeed, he's a pretty boy enough to have adventures run after him, even -though he run not after adventures." - -"Scozzone!" said the master with a frown. - -"Come, come! don't you be jealous of him, too, poor, dear boy!" And she -raised Ascanio's chin with her hand. "Ah, well! it only needed that. -But, Jesu! how pale you are! Does it happen that you haven't supped, -monsieur vagabond?" - -"Faith, no," cried Ascanio; "I forgot it." - -"Oho! in that case I take sides with the master; he forgot that he had -not supped, so he must be in love. Ruperta! Ruperta! bring supper for -Messire Ascanio at once." - -The servant produced several dishes of appetizing relics of the evening -meal, which our hero pounced upon with an appetite by no means unnatural -after his prolonged exercise in the open air. - -Scozzone and the master watched him, smiling the while, one with -sisterly affection, the other with a father's love. The young man at -work in the corner had raised his head when Ascanio entered; but as soon -as Scozzone replaced in front of him the lamp she had taken when she -rail to open the door, he bent his head over his work once more. - -"I was saying, master, that it was for you I have been running about all -day," resumed Ascanio, noticing the mischievous expression of the master -and Scozzone, and desiring to lead the conversation to some other -subject than his love affairs. - -"How hast thou run about all day for me? Let us hear." - -"Did you not say yesterday that the light was very bad here, and that -you must have another studio?" - -"Even so." - -"Well, I have found one for you." - -"Dost thou hear, Pagolo?" said the master, turning to the young man in -the corner. - -"What did you say, master?" he asked, raising his head a second time. - -"Come, lay aside thy work a moment, and listen to this. He has found a -workshop: dost thou hear?" - -"Pardon, master, but I can hear very well from here what my friend -Ascanio may say. I would like to complete this study; it seems to me -that it is well, when one has piously fulfilled the duties of a -Christian on the Sabbath day, to employ one's leisure in some profitable -exercise: to work is to pray." - -"Pagolo, my friend," said the master, shaking his head more in sadness -than in anger, "you would do better, believe me, to work more -assiduously and heartily through the week, and enjoy yourself on Sunday -like a good comrade, than to idle as you do on ordinary days, and -hypocritically set yourself apart from the others by feigning so much -ardor in your work on fete-days; but you are your own master, act as -seems good to you. And thou sayest, Ascanio, my child?" he continued in -a tone in which infinite gentleness and affection were mingled. - -"I say that I have found a magnificent workshop for you." - -"Where?" - -"Do you know the Hôtel de Nesle?" - -"Perfectly; that is, by having passed before it, for I have never been -within the door." - -"But is its exterior attractive in your eyes?" - -"Pardieu! it is indeed. But--" - -"But what?" - -"But does no one occupy it, pray?" - -"Marry, yes, Monsieur the Provost of Paris, Messire Robert -d'Estourville, who has taken possession of it without right. Moreover, -to satisfy your scruples on that head, we might with great propriety -leave him the Petit-Nesle, where some one of his family now dwells, I -think, and be content ourselves with the Grand-Nesle, and its -courtyards, lawns, and bowling-greens and tennis-court." - -"There is a tennis-court?" - -"Finer than that of Santa-Croce at Florence." - -"Per Bacco! and it is my favorite game; thou didst know that, Ascanio." - -"Yes; and then, master, over and above all that, a superb location; air -everywhere; and such air! perfect country air, and not such as we get -here in this infernal corner, where we are moulding, forgotten by the -sun. The Pré-aux-Clercs on one side, the Seine on the other, and the -king, your great king, only two steps away, in his Louvre." - -"But whose is this devil of a hotel?" - -"Whose, say you? Pardieu! the king's." - -"The king's! Say me that once more, my child,--the Hôtel de Nesle is -the king's!" - -"His own; now it remains to ascertain if he will give you so magnificent -a dwelling-place." - -"Who, the king? How do men call the king, Ascanio! - -"Why, François I. if I am not mistaken." - -"Which means that the Hôtel de Nesle will be my property within the -week." - -"But it may be that the Provost of Paris will take offence." - -"What care I for that?" - -"But suppose he will not let go what he has in his hand?" - -"Suppose he will not!--What do men call me, Ascanio?" - -"They call you Benvenuto Cellini, master." - -"Which means that if the worthy provost will not do things with good -grace, why, we will use force to compel him to do them. And now let us -to bed. To-morrow we'll speak further on the matter, and then the sun -will shine, and we shall see more clearly." - -At the master's suggestion all retired except Pagolo, who remained for -some time at work in his corner; but as soon as he believed that all -were safely in bed, the apprentice rose, looked about, drew near the -table, and poured for himself a large cup of wine, which he swallowed at -a draught. Then he too went off to bed. - - - - -II - - -A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY - - -Since we have drawn the portrait and mentioned the name of Benvenuto -Cellini, we crave the reader's permission, that he may the more -understandingly approach the artistic subject of which we propose to -treat, to indulge in a short digression upon this extraordinary man, who -at this time had been living in France for two months, and who is -destined to become one of the principal characters of this history. - -But first of all let us say a word as to the goldsmiths of the sixteenth -century. - -There is at Florence a bridge called the Ponte-Vecchio, which is covered -with houses to this day; these houses were in the old days goldsmiths' -shops. - -But the word is not to be understood as we understand it to-day. The -goldsmith of our day follows a trade; formerly, the goldsmith was an -artist. - -So it was that there was nothing in the world so wondrously beautiful as -these shops, or rather as the articles with which they were stocked. -There were round cups of onyx, around which dragons' tails were twined, -while heads and bodies of those fabulous creatures confronted one -another with gold-bespangled sky-blue wings outspread, and with jaws -wide open like chimeras, shot threatening glances from their ruby eyes. -There were ewers of agate, with a festoon of ivy clinging round the -base, and climbing up in guise of handle well above the orifice, -concealing amid its emerald foliage some marvellous bird from the -tropics, in brilliant plumage of enamel, seemingly alive and ready to -burst forth in song. There were urns of lapis-lazuli, over the edge of -which leaned, as if to drink, lizards chiselled with such art that one -could almost see the changing reflection of their golden cuirasses, and -might have thought that they would fly at the least sound, and seek -shelter in some crevice in the wall. Then there were chalices and -monstrances, and bronze and gold and silver medallions, all studded with -precious stones, as if in those days rubies, topazes, carbuncles, and -diamonds could be found by searching in the sand on river banks, or in -the dust of the highroad; and there were nymphs, naiads, gods, -goddesses, a whole resplendent Olympus, mingled with crucifixes, -crosses, and Calvarys; Mater Dolorosas, Venuses, Christs, Apollos, -Jupiters launching thunderbolts, and Jehovahs creating the world; and -all this not only cleverly executed, but poetically conceived; not only -admirable, viewed as ornaments for a woman's boudoir, but magnificent -masterpieces fit to immortalize the reign of a king or the genius of a -nation. - -To be sure, the goldsmiths of that epoch bore the names of Donatello, -Ghiberti, Guirlandajo, and Benvenuto Cellini. - -Now, Benvenuto Cellini has himself described in his memoirs, which are -more interesting than the most interesting novel, the adventurous life -of the artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when Titian was -painting in coat of mail, when Michel-Angelo was sculpturing with his -sword at his side, when Masaccio and Domenichino died of poison, and -Cosmo I. secluded himself in his laboratory to discover the mode of -tempering steel so that it would cut porphyry. - -To show the character of the man, we will take a single episode in his -life,--that which was the occasion of his coming to France. - -Benvenuto was at Rome, whither Pope Clement VII. had summoned him, and -was at work with characteristic ardor upon the beautiful chalice which -his Holiness had ordered; but as he desired to display his talent at its -best upon the precious work, he made but slow progress. How, Benvenuto, -as may well be imagined, had many rivals, who envied him the many -valuable orders he received from the Pope, as well as the marvellous -skill with which he executed them. The result was that one of his -confrères, named Pompeo, who had nothing to do but slander his betters, -took advantage of the delay to do him all possible injury in the Pope's -sight, and kept at work persistently, day in and day out, without truce -or relaxation, sometimes in undertones, sometimes aloud, assuring him -that he would never finish it, and that he was so overwhelmed with -orders that he executed those of other people to the neglect of his -Holiness's. - -He said and did so much, did good Pompeo, that when Benvenuto Cellini -saw him enter his workshop one day with smiling faee, he divined at once -that he was the bearer of bad news for him. - -"Well, my dear confrère," Pompeo began, "I have come to relieve you -from a heavy burden. His Holiness realizes that your neglect in -completing his chalice is not due to lack of zeal, but to lack of time; -he therefore considers it no more than just to relieve you from some one -of your important duties, and of his own motion he dismisses you from -the post of Engraver to the Mint. It will be nine paltry ducats a month -less in your pocket, but an hour more each day at your disposal." - -Benvenuto was conscious of an intense longing to throw the jeering -varlet out of window, but he restrained his feelings, and Pompeo, seeing -that not a muscle of his face moved, thought that he had missed his aim. - -"Furthermore," he continued, "why, I know not, but in spite of all that -I could say in your behalf, his Holiness demands his chalice at once, in -whatever condition it may be. Verily, I am afraid, dear Benvenuto, I say -it in all friendliness, that 't is his purpose to have some other finish -it." - -"Oh, no, not that!" cried the goldsmith, starting up like one bitten by -a serpent. "My chalice is my own, even as the office at the Mint is the -Pope's. His Holiness hath no right to do more than bid me return the -five hundred crowns paid to me in advance, and I will dispose of my work -as may seem good to me." - -"Beware, my master," said Pompeo; "imprisonment may be the sequel of -your refusal." - -"Signore Pompeo, you're an ass!" retorted Benvenuto. - -Pompeo left the shop in a rage. - -On the following day two of the Holy Father's chamberlains called upon -Benvenuto Cellini. - -"The Pope has sent us," said one of them, "either to receive the chalice -at your hands, or to take you to prison." - -"Monsignori," rejoined Benvenuto, "an artist like myself deserved no -less than to be given in charge to functionaries like yourselves. Here I -am; take me to prison. But I give you fair warning that all this will -not put the Pope's chalice forward one stroke of the graver." - -Benvenuto went with them to the governor of the prison, who, having -doubtless received his instructions in advance, invited him to dine with -him. Throughout the repast the governor used every conceivable argument -to induce Benvenuto to satisfy the Pope by carrying the chalice to him, -assuring him that, if he would make that concession, Clement VII., -violent and obstinate as he was, would forget his displeasure. But the -artist replied that he had already shown the Holy Father his chalice six -times since he began it, and that was all that could justly be -required of him; moreover, he said he knew his Holiness, and that he was -not to be trusted; that he might very well, when he had the chalice in -his hands, take it from him altogether, and give it to some idiot to -finish, who would spoil it. He reiterated his readiness to return the -five hundred crowns paid in advance. - -Having said so much, Benvenuto met all subsequent arguments of the -governor by exalting his cook to the skies, and praising his wines. - -After dinner, all his compatriots, all his dearest friends, all his -apprentices, led by Ascanio, called upon him to implore him not to rush -headlong to destruction by resisting the commands of Clement VII.; but -Benvenuto told them that he had long desired to establish the great -truth that a goldsmith can be more obstinate than a Pope; and as the -most favorable opportunity he could ask for was now at hand, he -certainly would not let it pass, for fear that it might not return. - -His compatriots withdrew, shrugging their shoulders, his friends vowing -that he was mad, and Ascanio weeping bitterly. - -Fortunately Pompeo did not forget Cellini, and meanwhile he was saying -slyly to the Pope,-- - -"Most Holy Father, give your servant a free hand; I will send word to -this obstinate fellow that, since he is so determined, he may send me -the five hundred crowns; as he is a notorious spendthrift he will not -have that sum at his disposal, and will be compelled to give up the -chalice to me." - -Clement considered this an excellent device, and bade Pompeo do as he -suggested. And so, that same evening, as Cellini was about to be taken -to the cell assigned him, a chamberlain made his appearance, and -informed the goldsmith that his Holiness accepted his ultimatum, and -demanded the delivery of the chalice or the five hundred crowns without -delay. - -Benvenuto replied that they had but to take him to his workshop, and he -would give them the five hundred crowns. - -He was escorted thither by four Swiss, accompanied by the chamberlain. -He entered his bedroom, drew a key from his pocket, opened a small iron -closet built into the wall, plunged his hand into a large bag, took out -five hundred crowns, and, having given them to the chamberlain, showed -him and the four Swiss the door. It should be said, in justice to -Benvenuto Cellini, that they received four crowns for their trouble, and -in justice to the Swiss, that they kissed his hands as they took their -leave. - -The chamberlain returned forthwith to the Holy Father, and delivered the -five hundred crowns, whereupon his Holiness, in his desperation, flew -into a violent rage, and began to abuse Pompeo. - -"Go thyself to my great engraver at his workshop, animal," he said, -"employ all the soothing arguments of which thy ignorant folly is -capable, and say to him that if he will consent to finish my chalice, I -will give him whatever facilities he may require." - -"But, your Holiness," said Pompeo, "will it not be time to-morrow -morning?" - -"I fear lest it be already too late this evening, imbecile, and I do not -choose that Benvenuto shall sleep upon his wrath; therefore do my -bidding on the instant, and let me not fail to have a favorable reply -to-morrow morning at my levée." - -Pompeo thereupon left the Vatican with drooping feathers, and repaired -to Benvenuto's workshop; it was closed. - -He peered through the key-hole and through the cracks in the door, and -scrutinized all the windows, one after another, to see if there was not -one which showed a light; but all were dark. He ventured to knock a -second time somewhat louder than at first, and then a third time, still -louder. - -Thereupon a window on the first floor opened, and Benvenuto appeared in -his shirt, arquebus in hand. - -"Who's there?" he demanded. - -"I," the messenger replied. - -"Who art thou?" rejoined the goldsmith, although he recognized his man -at once. - -"Pompeo." - -"Thou liest," said Benvenuto; "I know Pompeo well, and he is far too -great a coward to venture out into the streets of Rome at this hour." - -"But, my dear Cellini, I swear--" - -"Hold thy peace! thou art a villain, and hast taken the poor devil's -name to induce me to open my door, and then to rob me." - -"Master Benvenuto, may I die--" - -"Say but another word," cried Benvenuto, pointing the arquebus toward -his interlocutor, "and that wish of thine will be gratified." - -Pompeo fled at full speed, crying "Murder!" and disappeared around the -corner of the nearest street. - -Benvenuto thereupon closed his window, hung his arquebus on its nail, -and went to bed once more, laughing in his beard at poor Pompeo's -fright. - -The next morning, as he went down to his shop, which had been opened an -hour earlier by his apprentices, he spied Pompeo on the opposite side of -the street, where he had been doing sentry duty since daybreak, waiting -to see him descend. - -As soon as he saw Cellini, Pompeo waved his hand to him in the most -affectionately friendly way imaginable. - -"Aha!" said Cellini, "is it you, my dear Pompeo? By my faith! I was -within an ace last night of making a churl pay dearly for his insolence -in assuming your name." - -"Indeed!" said Pompeo, forcing himself to smile, and drawing gradually -nearer to the shop; "how did it happen, pray?" - -Benvenuto thereupon described the incident to his Holiness's messenger; -but as his friend Benvenuto had described him in their nocturnal -interview as a coward, Pompeo did not dare confess his identity with the -visitor. When his tale was finished, Cellini asked Pompeo to what happy -circumstance he was indebted for the honor of so early a visit from him. - -Pompeo thereupon acquitted himself, but in somewhat different terms, be -it understood, of the errand upon which Clement VII. had sent him to his -goldsmith. Benvenuto's features expanded as he proceeded. Clement VII. -yielded; _ergo_ the goldsmith had been more obstinate than the Pope. - -"Say to his Holiness," said Benvenuto, when the message was duly -delivered, "that I shall be very happy to obey him, and to do anything -in my power to regain his favor, which I have lost, not by any fault of -my own, but through the evil machinations of envious rivals. As for -yourself, Signore Pompeo, as the Pope does not lack retainers, I counsel -you, in your own interest, to look to it that another than you is sent -to me hereafter; for your health's sake, Signore Pompeo, interfere no -more in my affairs; in pity for yourself, never happen in my path, and -for the welfare of my soul, Pompeo, pray God that I be not your Cæsar." - -Pompeo waited to hear no more, but returned to Clement VII. with -Cellini's reply, of which, however, he suppressed the peroration. - -Some time thereafter, in order to put the seal to his reconciliation -with Benvenuto, Clement VII. ordered his medallion struck by him. -Benvenuto struck it in bronze, in silver, and in gold, and then carried -it to him. The Pope was so enraptured with it that he cried out in his -admiration, that so beautiful a medallion had never been produced by the -ancients. - -"Ah, well, your Holiness," said Benvenuto, "had not I displayed some -firmness, we should have been at enmity to-day; for I would never have -forgiven you, and you would have lost a devoted servant. Look you, Holy -Bather," he continued, by way of good counsel, "your Holiness would not -do ill to remember now and then the opinion of many discreet folk, that -one should bleed seven times before cutting once, and you would do well -also to allow yourself to be something less easily made the dupe of -lying tongues and envious detractors; so much for your guidance in -future, and we will say no more about it, Most Holy Father." - -Thus did Benvenuto pardon Clement VII., which he certainly would not -have done had he loved him less; but, as his compatriot, he was deeply -attached to him. Great, therefore, was his sorrow when the Pope suddenly -died, a few months subsequent to the episode we have described. The man -of iron burst into tears at the news, and for a week he wept like a -child. The Pontiff's demise was doubly calamitous to poor Cellini. On -the very day of his burial he met Pompeo, whom he had not seen since the -day when he bade him spare him the too frequent infliction of his -presence. - -It should be said that since Cellini's dire threats, the unhappy Pompeo -had not dared to go out unless accompanied by a dozen men well armed, to -whom he gave the same pay that the Pope gave his Swiss Guards; so that -every walk that he took in the city cost him two or three crowns. And -even when surrounded by his twelve sbirri, he trembled at the thought of -meeting Benvenuto Cellini, for he knew that if the meeting should result -in an affray, and any mishap should befall the goldsmith, the Pope, who -was really very fond of him, would make him, Pompeo, pay dearly for it. -But, as we have said, Clement VII. was dead, and his death restored some -little courage to Pompeo. - -Benvenuto had been to St. Peter's to kiss the feet of the deceased -Pontiff, and was returning through the street Dei Banchi, accompanied by -Pagolo and Ascanio, when he found himself face to face with Pompeo and -his twelve men. At the sight of his enemy, Pompeo became very pale; but -as he looked around and saw how amply provided he was with defenders, -while Benvenuto had only two boys with him, he took heart of grace, -halted, and nodded his head mockingly, while he toyed with the hilt of -his dagger with his right hand. - -At sight of this group of men by whom his master was threatened, Ascanio -put his hand to his sword, while Pagolo pretended to be looking in -another direction; but Benvenuto did not choose to expose his beloved -pupil to so unequal a conflict. He laid his hand upon Ascanio's, pushing -the half-drawn blade back into the scabbard, and walked on as if he had -seen nothing, or as if he had taken no offence at what he saw. Ascanio -could hardly recognize his master in such guise, but as his master -withdrew, he withdrew with him. - -Pompeo triumphantly made a deep salutation to Benvenuto, and pursued his -way, still surrounded by his sbirri, who imitated his bravado. - -Benvenuto bit his lips till the blood came, while externally his -features wore a smile. His behavior was inexplicable to any one who knew -the irascible nature of the illustrious goldsmith. - -But they had not proceeded a hundred yards when he stopped before the -workshop of one of his confrères, and went in, alleging as a pretext -his desire to see an antique vase which had recently been found in the -Etruscan tombs of Corneto. He bade his pupils go on to the shop, and -promised to join them there in a few moments. - -As the reader will understand, this was only a pretext to get Ascanio -out of the way, for as soon as he thought that the young man and his -companion, concerning whom he was less anxious because he was sure that -such courage as he possessed would not carry him too far, had turned the -corner of the street, he replaced the vase upon the shelf from which he -took it, and darted out of the shop. - -With three strides Benvenuto was in the street where he had met Pompeo; -but Pompeo was no longer there. Luckily, or rather unluckily, this man, -encompassed by his twelve sbirri, was a noticeable object, and so when -Benvenuto inquired as to the direction he had taken, the first person to -whom he applied was able to give him the information, and like a -bloodhound that has recovered a lost scent Benvenuto started in pursuit. - -Pompeo had stopped at a druggist's door, at the corner of the Chiavica, -and was vaunting to the worthy compounder of drugs the prowess he had -shown in his meeting with Benvenuto Cellini, when his eye suddenly fell -upon the latter turning the corner of the street, with fire in his eye, -and the perspiration streaming down his forehead. - -Benvenuto shouted exultantly as he caught sight of him, and Pompeo -stopped short in the middle of his sentence. It was evident that -something terrible was about to happen. The bravos formed a group around -Pompeo and drew their swords. - -It was an insane performance for one man to attack thirteen, but -Benvenuto was, as we have said, one of those leonine creatures who do -not count their enemies. Against the thirteen swords which threatened -him, he drew a small keen-edged dagger which he always wore in his -girdle, and rushed into the centre of the group, sweeping aside two or -three swords with one arm, overturning two or three men with the other, -until he made his way to where Pompeo stood, and seized him by the -collar. But the group at once closed upon him. - -Thereupon naught could be seen save a confused struggling mass, whence -issued loud shouts, and above which swords were waving. For a moment the -living mass rolled on the ground, in shapeless, inextricable confusion, -then a man sprang to his feet with a shout of triumph, and with a mighty -effort, forced his way out of the group as he made his way in, bleeding -himself, but triumphantly waving his blood-stained dagger. It was -Benvenuto Cellini. - -Another man remained upon the pavement, writhing in the agony of death. -He had received two blows from the dagger, one below the ear, the other -at the base of the neck behind the collar bone. In a few seconds he -breathed his last,--it was Pompeo. - -Any other than Benvenuto, after such a deed, would have taken himself -off at full speed, but he passed his dagger to his left hand, drew his -sword, and resolutely awaited the sbirri. - -But the sbirri had no further business with Benvenuto; he who paid them -was dead, and consequently could pay them no more. They ran off like a -flock of frightened rabbits, leaving Pompeo's body where it lay. - -At that juncture Ascanio appeared, and rushed into his master's arms; he -was not deceived by the ruse of the Etruscan vase, but although he had -made all possible speed he arrived a few seconds too late. - - - - -III - - -DÆDALUS - - -Benvenuto returned to his abode with Ascanio, somewhat ill at ease, not -because of the three wounds he had received, which were all too slight -to occasion him any anxiety, but because of the possible results of the -affray. Six months before, he had killed Guasconti, his brother's -murderer, but had come off scot free by virtue of the protection of Pope -Clement VII.; moreover, that act was committed by way of reprisal, but -now Benvenuto's protector had gone the way of all flesh, and the -prospect was much more ominous. - -Remorse, be it understood, did not disturb him for one moment. But we -beg our readers not for that reason to form an unfavorable opinion of -our worthy goldsmith, who after killing a man, after killing two men -perhaps,--indeed, if we search his past very carefully, after killing -three men,--although he had a wholesome dread of the watch, did not for -one instant fear to meet his God. - -For this man, in the year of grace 1540, was an ordinary man, an -every day man, as the Germans say. Men thought so little of dying in -those days, that they naturally came to think very little of killing; we -are brave to-day, but the men of those days were foolhardy; we are men -grown, they were hot-headed youths. Life was so abundant in those days -that men lost it, gave it, sold it, nay, even took it, with absolute -indifference and recklessness. - -There was once an author who was calumniated and abused for many years, -whose name was made a synonym for treachery, cruelty, and all the words -which mean infamy, and it needed this nineteenth century, the most -impartial since the birth of humanity, to rehabilitate that author as -the grand patriot and noble-hearted man he was. And yet Nicolo -Machiavelli's only crime was that he lived at an epoch when brute -strength and success were all in all; when folk judged by deeds, not -words, and when such men as Cesar Borgia the sovereign, Machiavelli the -thinker, and Benvenuto Cellini the artisan, marched straight to their -goal, without thought of methods or reasons. - -One day a body was found in the public square of Cesena, cut in four -pieces; it was the body of Ramiro d'Orco. Now, as Ramiro d'Orco was a -considerable personage in Italy, the Florentine Republic sought to -ascertain the causes of his death. The Eight of the Signoria therefore -wrote to Machiavelli, their ambassador at Cesena, to satisfy their -curiosity. - -But Machiavelli made no other reply than this:-- - - -"MAGNIFICENT SIGNORIA:--I have naught to say anent the death of Ramiro -d'Orco, save this: that no prince in the world is so skilful as Cesar -Borgia in the art of making and unmaking men according to their deserts. - -"MACHIAVELLI." - - -Benvenuto was an exponent of the theory enunciated by the illustrious -secretary of the Florentine Republic. Benvenuto the genius, Cesar Borgia -the prince, both considered themselves above the laws by virtue of their -power. In their eyes the distinction between what was just and what was -unjust was identical with the distinction between what they could and -what they could not do; of right and duty they had not the slightest -conception. A man stood in their path, they suppressed the man. To-day -civilization does him the honor of purchasing him. - -But in those old days the blood was boiling so abundantly in the veins -of the young nations that they shed it for their health's sake. - -They fought by instinct, not for their country to any great extent, not -for women to any great extent, but largely for the sake of fighting, -nation against nation, man against man. Benvenuto made war upon Pompeo -as François I. did upon Charles V. France and Spain fought an -intermittent duel, now at Marignano, and again at Pavia; all as if it -were the most natural thing in the world, without preamble, without long -harangues, without lamentation. - -In the same way genius was exercised by those who possessed it as an -innate faculty, as an absolute royal power, based upon divine right: art -in the sixteenth century was looked upon as the natural birthright of -man. - -We must not therefore wonder at these men who wondered at nothing; we -have, to explain their homicides, their whims, and their faults, an -expression which explains and justifies everything in our country, -especially in these days of ours:-- - -_That was the fashion._ - -Benvenuto therefore did simply what it was the fashion to do; Pompeo -annoyed Benvenuto Cellini, and Benvenuto suppressed Pompeo. - -But the police occasionally investigated these acts of suppression; they -were very careful not to protect a man when he was alive, but perhaps -once in ten times they showed a feeble desire to avenge him when he was -dead. - -They experienced such a desire in the matter of Pompeo and Benvenuto -Cellini. As the goldsmith, having returned to his shop, was putting -certain papers in the fire, and some money in his pocket, he was -arrested by the pontifical sbirri, and taken to the castle of San -Angelo,--an occurrence for which he was almost consoled by the -reflection that the castle of San Angelo was where noblemen were -imprisoned. - -But another thought that was no less efficacious in bringing consolation -to Cellini as he entered the castle was this,--that a man endowed with -so inventive a mind as his need not long delay about leaving it, in one -way or another. And so, when he was taken before the governor, who was -sitting at a table covered with a green cloth, and looking through a -great pile of papers, he said:-- - -"Sir Governor, multiply your locks and bolts and sentinels threefold; -confine me in your highest cell or in your deepest dungeon; keep close -watch upon me all day, and lie awake all night; and yet I warn you that, -despite all that, I will escape." - -The governor looked up at the prisoner who addressed him with such -unheard of assurance, and recognized Benvenuto Cellini, whom he had had -the honor of entertaining three months before. - -Notwithstanding his acquaintance with the man, perhaps because of it, -Benvenuto's allocution caused the worthy governor the most profound -dismay. He was a Florentine, one Master Georgio, a knight of the -Ugolini, and an excellent man, but somewhat weak in the head. However, -he soon recovered from his first surprise, and ordered Benvenuto to be -taken to the highest cell in the castle. The platform was immediately -above it; a sentinel was stationed on the platform, and another sentinel -at the foot of the wall. - -The governor called the prisoner's attention to these details, and when -he thought that he had had time to digest them, he said:-- - -"My dear Benvenuto, one may open locks, force doors, dig out from an -underground dungeon, make a hole through a wall, bribe sentinels and put -jailers to sleep; but without wings one cannot descend to earth from -this height." - -"I will do it, nevertheless," said Cellini. - -The governor looked him in the eye, and began to think that his prisoner -was mad. - -"Why, in that case, you propose to fly?" - -"Why not? I have always believed that man can fly, but I have lacked -time to make the experiment. Here I shall have time enough, and, -pardieu! I mean to solve the problem. The adventure of Dædalus is -history, not fable." - -"Beware the sun, dear Benvenuto," sneeringly replied the governor; -"beware the sun." - -"I will fly away by night," said Benvenuto. - -The governor was not expecting that reply, so that he had no suitable -repartee at hand, and withdrew in a rage. - -In good sooth it was most important that Benvenuto should make his -escape, at any price. At another time he would not have been at all -perturbed because he had killed a man, and would have been quit of all -responsibility by following the procession of the Virgin in August, clad -in a doublet and cloak of blue armoisin. But the new Pope, Paul III., -was vindictive to the last degree, and when he was still Monsignore -Farnese, Benvenuto had had a crow to pluck with him, apropos of a vase -which the goldsmith refused to deliver until paid for, and which his -Eminence sought to procure by force, the result being to subject -Benvenuto to the dire necessity of using his Eminence's retainers -somewhat roughly. Moreover, the Holy Father was jealous because King -François I. had commanded Monseigneur de Montluc, his ambassador to the -Holy See, to request that Benvenuto be sent to France. When he was -informed of Benvenuto's imprisonment, Monseigneur de Montluc urged the -request more strenuously than before, thinking thereby to render the -unfortunate prisoner a service; but he was entirely unfamiliar with the -character of the new Pope, who was even more obstinate than his -predecessor, Clement VII. Now Paul III. had sworn that Benvenuto should -pay dearly for his escapade, and if he was not precisely in danger of -death,--a pope would have thought twice in those days before ordering -such an artist to the gallows,--he was in great danger of being -forgotten in his prison. It was therefore of the utmost importance that -Benvenuto should not forget himself, and that was why he was determined -to take flight without awaiting the interrogatories and judgment, which -might never have arrived; for the Pope, angered by the intervention of -François I., refused even to hear Benvenuto Cellini's name mentioned. -The prisoner knew all this from Ascanio, who was managing his -establishment, and who, by dint of persistent entreaties, had obtained -permission to visit his master. Their interviews, of course, were held -through two iron gratings, and in presence of witnesses watching to see -that the pupil passed neither file, nor rope, nor knife to his master. - -As soon as the door of his cell was locked behind the governor, -Benvenuto set about inspecting his surroundings. - -The following articles were contained within the four walls of his new -abiding place: a bed, a fireplace, a table, and two chairs. Two days -after his installation there, he obtained a supply of clay and a -modelling tool. The governor at first declined to allow him to have -these means of distraction, but he changed his mind upon reflecting -that, if the artist's mind were thus employed, he might perhaps abandon -the idea of escape, to which he clung so tenaciously. The same day, -Benvenuto sketched a colossal Venus. - -All this of itself was no great matter; but in conjunction with -imagination, patience, and energy, it was much. - -On a certain very cold day in December, when the fire was lighted on the -hearth, the servant changed the sheets on his bed and left the soiled -ones upon a chair. As soon as the door was closed, Benvenuto made one -bound from the chair on which he was sitting to the bed, took out of the -mattress two enormous handfuls of the maize leaves which are used to -stuff mattresses in Italy, stowed the sheets away in their place, -returned to his statue, took up his tool and resumed his work. At that -moment the servant returned for the forgotten sheets, and after looking -everywhere for them, asked Benvenuto if he had not seen them. But he -replied carelessly, as if absorbed by his work, that some of his fellows -doubtless had taken them, or that he carried them away himself without -knowing it. The servant had no suspicion of the truth, so little time -had elapsed since he left the room, and Benvenuto played his part so -naturally; and as the sheets were never found, he was very careful to -say nothing, for fear of being obliged to pay for them or of losing his -employment. - -One who has never lived through some supreme crisis can form no idea of -the possibilities of such a time in the way of terrible catastrophes and -poignant anguish. The most trivial accidents of life arouse in us joy or -despair. As soon as the servant left the room, Benvenuto fell upon his -knees, and thanked God for the help He had sent him. - -As his bed was never touched until the next morning after it was once -made, he quietly left the sheets in the mattress. - -When the night came he began to cut the sheets, which luckily were new -and strong, in strips three or four inches wide, then tied them together -as securely as he could; lastly, he cut open his statue, which was of -clay, hollowed it out, placed his treasure in the cavity, then spread -clay over the wound, and smoothed it off with his finger and his -modelling tool, until the most skilful artist could not have discovered -that poor Venus had been made to undergo the Cæsarean operation. - -The next morning the governor entered the prisoner's cell unexpectedly, -as he was accustomed to do, but found him as usual calm and hard at -work. Every morning the poor man, who had been specially threatened for -the night, trembled lest he should find the cell empty; and it should be -said, in justice to his frankness, that he did not conceal his joy every -morning when he found it occupied. - -"I confess that you make me terribly anxious, Benvenuto," said the poor -man; "however, I begin to think that your threats of escape amount to -nothing." - -"I don't threaten you, Master Georgio," rejoined Benvenuto, "I warn -you." - -"Do you still hope to fly away?" - -"Luckily it isn't a mere hope, but downright certainty, pardieu!" - -"Demonio! how will you do it?" cried the poor governor, dismayed beyond -measure by Benvenuto's real or pretended confidence in his means of -escape. - -"That's my secret, master. But I give you fair warning that my wings are -growing." - -The governor instinctively turned his eye upon the prisoner's shoulders. - -"'T is thus," continued Benvenuto, working away at his statue, and -rounding the hips in such fashion that one would have thought he -proposed to rival the Venus Callipyge. "Betwixt us there is a duel -impending. You have on your side enormous towers, thick doors, strong -bolts, innumerable keepers always on the alert; I have on my side my -brain, and these poor hands, and I warn you very frankly that you will -be beaten. But as you are a very clever man, as you have taken every -possible precaution, you will at least, when I am gone, have the -consolation of knowing that it is through no fault of yours, Master -Georgio, that you have no occasion to reproach yourself at all, Master -Georgio, and that you neglected nothing that could help you to detain -me, Master Georgio. And now what say you to this hip, for you are a -lover of art, I know." - -Such unblushing assurance enraged the unhappy official. His prisoner had -become his fixed idea, upon which all his faculties were centred. He -grew melancholy, lost his appetite, and started constantly, like one -suddenly aroused from sleep. One night Benvenuto heard a great noise -upon the platform; then it was transferred to his corridor, and finally -stopped at his door. The door opened, and he saw Master Georgio, in -dressing-gown and nightcap, attended by four jailers and eight guards. -The governor rushed to his bedside with distorted features. Benvenuto -sat up in bed and laughed in his face. The governor, without taking -offence at his hilarity, breathed like a diver returning to the surface. - -"Ah! God be praised!" he cried; "he is still here! There's much good -sense in the saying, _Songe_--_mensonge_" (Dream--lie). - -"In God's name, what's the matter?" demanded Benvenuto, "and what happy -circumstance affords me the pleasure of a visit from you at such an -hour, Master Georgio?" - -"Jésus Dieu! it's nothing at all, and I am quit of it this time for the -fright. Did I not dream that your accursed wings had grown,--huge wings, -whereon you tranquilly hovered above the castle of San Angelo, saying, -'Adieu, my dear governor, adieu! I did not wish to go away without -taking leave of you. I go; I pray that I may be so blessed as never to -see you more.'" - -"What! did I say that to you, Master Georgio?" - -"Those were your very words. Ah, Benvenuto, you are a sorry guest for -me!" - -"Oh! I trust that you do not deem me so ill-bred as that. Happily it was -but a dream; for otherwise I would not forgive you." - -"Happily it is not true. I hold you fast, my dear friend, and although -truth compels me to say that your society is not of the most agreeable -to me, I hope to hold you for a long time yet to come." - -"I do not think it," retorted Benvenuto, with the confident smile which -caused his host to use strong language. - -The governor went out, cursing Benvenuto roundly, and the next morning -he issued orders that his cell should be inspected every two hours, -night and day. This rigid inspection was continued for a month; but at -the end of that time, as there was no apparent reason to believe that -Benvenuto was even thinking of escape, the vigilance of his keepers was -somewhat relaxed. - -Benvenuto, however, had employed the month in accomplishing a terrible -task. - -As we have said, he minutely examined his cell immediately after he was -first consigned to it, and from that moment his mind was made up as to -the manner of his escape. His window was barred, and the bars were too -strong to be removed with the hand or with his modelling tool, the only -iron instrument he possessed. The chimney narrowed so toward the top -that the prisoner must needs have had the fairy Melusine's power of -transforming herself into a serpent to pass through it. - -The door remained. Ah, the door! Let us see how the door was made. - -It was a heavy oaken door two fingers thick, secured by two locks and -four bolts, and sheathed on the inside with iron plates kept in place by -nails at the top and bottom. It was through that door that the escape -must be effected. - -Benvenuto had noticed in the corridor, a few steps from the door, the -stairway leading to the platform. At intervals of two hours he heard the -footsteps of the relieving sentinel going up, then the steps of the -other coming down; after which he would hear nothing more for another -two hours. - -The question for him to solve, then, was simply this: how to reach the -other side of that door, which was secured by two locks and four bolts, -and furthermore sheathed on the inside with iron plates kept in place by -nails at the top and bottom. The solution of this problem was the task -to which Benvenuto had devoted the month in question. - -With his modelling tool, which was of iron, he removed, one by one, the -heads of all the nails, save four above and four below, which he left -until the last day: then, in order that his work might not be detected, -he replaced the missing heads with exactly similar ones, modelled in -clay and covered with iron filings, so that it was impossible for the -keenest eye to distinguish the false from the true. As there were, at -top and bottom together, some sixty nails, and as it took at least one -hour, and sometimes two, to decapitate each nail, the magnitude of the -task may be understood. - -Every evening, when everybody had retired, and nothing could be heard -save the footsteps of the sentinel walking back and forth over his head, -he built a great fire on the hearth, and piled glowing embers against -the iron plates on his door; the iron became red hot, and gradually -transformed to charcoal the wood upon which it was applied; but no -indication of the carbonizing process appeared on the other side of the -door. - -For a whole month Benvenuto devoted himself to this task, as we have -said; but at the end of the month it was finished, and he only awaited a -favorable opportunity to make his escape. He was compelled, however, to -wait a few days, for the moon was near the full when the work was done. - -There was nothing more to be done to the nails, so Benvenuto continued -to char the door, and drive the governor to desperation. That very day -the functionary entered his cell more preoccupied than ever. - -"My dear prisoner," said the worthy man, whose mind constantly recurred -to his fixed idea, "do you still propose to fly away? Come, tell me -frankly." - -"More than ever, my dear host," replied Benvenuto. - -"Look you," said the governor, "you may say what you choose, but upon my -word, I believe it's impossible." - -"Impossible, Master Georgio, impossible!" rejoined the artist; "why, you -know full well that word does not exist for me, who have always -exerted myself to do those things which are the most impossible for -other men, and that with success. Impossible, my dear host! Why, have I -not sometimes amused myself by making nature jealous, by fashioning with -gold and emeralds and diamonds a flower fairer far than all the flowers -that the dew empearls? Think you that he who can make flowers can not -make wings?" - -"May God help me!" said the governor; "with your insolent assurance -you'll make me lose my wits! But tell me, in order that these wings may -sustain your weight in the air,--a thing which seems impossible to me, I -confess,--what form shall you give them?" - -"I have thought deeply thereupon, as you may well imagine, since my -safety depends entirely upon the shape of my wings." - -"With what result?" - -"After examining all flying things, I have concluded that, if I wish to -reproduce by art what they have received from God, I can copy the bat -most successfully." - -"But when all is said, Benvenuto," continued the governor, "even if you -had the materials with which to make a pair of wings, would not your -courage fail you when the time came to use them?" - -"Give me what I need for their construction, my dear governor, and I'll -reply by flying away." - -"What do you need, in God's name?" - -"Oh! mon Dieu! almost nothing; a little forge, an anvil, files, tongs -and pincers to make the springs, and twenty yards of oiled silk for the -membranes. - -"Good! very good!" said Master Georgio; "that reassures me somewhat, -for, clever as you may be, you never will succeed in obtaining all those -things here." - -"'T is done," rejoined Benvenuto. - -The governor leaped from his chair; but he instantly reflected that it -was a material impossibility. And yet, for all that, his poor brain had -not a moment's respite. Every bird that flew by his window he imagined -to be Benvenuto Cellini, so great is the influence of a master mind over -one of moderate capacity. - -The same day Master Georgio sent for the most skilful machinist in all -Rome, and ordered him to measure him for a pair of bat's wings. - -The machinist stared at the governor in blank amazement, without -replying, thinking, with some reason, that Master Georgio had gone mad. - -But as Master Georgio insisted, as Master Georgio was wealthy, and as -Master Georgio had the wherewithal to pay for insane freaks, if he chose -to indulge in them, the machinist set about the task, and a week later -brought him a pair of magnificent wings, fitted to an iron waist to be -worn upon the body, and worked by means of an extremely ingenious -arrangement of springs, with most encouraging regularity. - -Master Georgio paid his man the stipulated price, measured the space -required to accommodate the apparatus, went up to Benvenuto's cell, and -without a word overturned everything therein, looking under the bed, -peering up the chimney, fumbling in the mattress, and leaving not the -smallest corner unvisited. - -Then he went out, still without speaking, convinced that, unless -Benvenuto was a sorcerer, no pair of wings similar to his own could be -hidden in his cell. - -It was clear that the unhappy governor's brain was becoming more and -more disordered. - -Upon descending to his own quarters, Master Georgio found the machinist -waiting for him; he had returned to call his attention to the fact that -there was an iron ring at the end of each wing, intended to support the -legs of a man flying in a horizontal position. - -The machinist had no sooner left him than Master Georgio locked himself -in, donned the iron waist, unfolded his wings, hung up his legs, and, -lying flat upon his stomach, made his first attempt at flying. - -But, try as he would, he could not succeed in rising above the floor. - -After two or three trials, always with the same result, he sent for the -mechanic once more. - -"Master," said he, "I have tried your wings, but they won't work." - -"How did you try them?" - -Master Georgio described his repeated experiments in detail. The -mechanic listened with a sober face, and said, when he had concluded:-- - -"I am not surprised; as you lay on the floor, you hadn't a sufficient -quantity of air under your wings. You must go to the top of the castle -of San Angelo, and boldly launch yourself into space." - -"And you think that in that way I can fly?" - -"I am sure of it." - -"If you are so sure of it, would it not be as well to make the -experiment yourself?" - -"The wings are proportioned to the weight of your body and not of mine," -replied the machinist. "Wings to carry my weight would need to measure a -foot and a half more from tip to tip." - -And with that he bowed and took his leave. - -"The devil!" exclaimed Master Georgio. - -Throughout that day Master Georgio indulged in various vagaries, which -tended to prove that his reason, like Roland's, was penetrating farther -and farther into imaginary realms. - -In the evening, just at bedtime, he summoned all the servants, all the -jailers, all the guards. - -"If," said he, "you learn that Benvenuto Cellini is intending to fly -away, let him go, and notify me, nothing more; for I shall know where to -go to capture him, even in the dark, since I am myself a veritable bat, -while he, whatever he may say, is only a false bat." - -The poor governor was quite mad; but as they hoped that a night's rest -would have a soothing effect upon him, they decided to wait until -morning before advising the Pope. - -Moreover it was an abominable night, dark and rainy, and no one cared to -go out in such weather; always excepting Benvenuto Cellini, who had -selected that very night for his escape, in a spirit of contrariety -doubtless. - -And so, as soon as he heard the clock strike ten, and the footsteps -indicating that the sentinel had been relieved, he fell on his knees and -offered a fervent prayer, after which he set to work. - -In the first place he removed the heads of the four nails, which alone -held the iron plates in place. The last yielded to his efforts just at -midnight. - -He heard the steps of the sentinel going up to the platform; he stood -with his ear glued to the door, without breathing, until the relieved -sentinel came down, the steps died away in the distance, and silence -reigned once more. - -The rain fell with redoubled force, and Benvenuto's heart leaped for joy -as he heard it heating against the window. - -He at once tried to remove the iron plates; as there was nothing to hold -them, they yielded to his efforts, and he placed them, one by one, -against the wall. - -He then lay flat upon the floor, and attacked the bottom of the door -with his modelling tool, sharpened like a dagger, and fitted to a wooden -handle. The oak was entirely changed to carbon, and gave way at the -first touch. - -In an instant Benvenuto had made, an aperture at the bottom of the door -sufficiently large to allow him to crawl through it. He reopened the -belly of his statue, took out the strips of linen, coiled them around -his waist like a girdle, armed himself with his modelling tool, of which -he had, as we have said, made a dagger, and fell on his knees once more -and prayed. - -Then he passed his head through the hole, then his shoulders, then the -rest of his body, and found himself in the corridor. - -He stood erect; but his legs trembled so that he was compelled to lean -against the wall for support. His heart was beating as if it would -burst, and his head was on fire. A drop of perspiration trembled at the -end of each hair, and he clutched the handle of his dagger in his hand, -as if some one were trying to tear it away from him. - -However, as everything was quiet, as nothing was stirring and not a -sound was to be heard, Benvenuto soon recovered himself, and felt his -way along the wall of the corridor with his hand, until the wall came to -an end. Then he put out his foot and felt the first step of the -staircase, or, more properly speaking, the ladder, which led to the -platform. - -He mounted the rungs, one by one, shivering as the wood creaked under -his feet, until he felt a breath of air; then the rain beat against his -faee as his head rose above the level of the platform, and as he had -been in most intense darkness for a quarter of an hour, he was able to -judge at once what reason he had to fear or hope. - -The balance seemed to incline toward hope. - -The sentinel had taken refuge from the storm in his sentry-box. How, as -the sentinels who mounted guard upon the castle of San Angelo were -stationed there, not to inspect the platform, but to look down into the -moat and survey the surrounding country, the closed side of the -sentry-box faced the top of the ladder by which Benvenuto ascended. - -The artist crept cautiously on his hands and knees toward that part of -the platform which was farthest removed from the sentry-box. There he -securely fastened one end of his improvised rope to a jutting projection -some six inches in length, and then knelt for the third time. - -"O Lord!" he muttered, "O Lord! do Thou help me, since I am seeking to -help myself." - -With that prayer upon his lips, he let himself down by his hands, -heedless of the bruises upon his knees and his forehead, which, from -time to time, rubbed against the face of the wall, and at last reached -the solid earth. - -When he felt the ground beneath his feet, his breast swelled with an -infinitude of joy and pride. He contemplated the immense height from -which he had descended, and could not avoid saying in an undertone, -"Free at last!" But his joy was short-lived. - -As he turned away from the tower, his knees trembled under him; directly -in front of him rose a wall recently built, and of which he knew -nothing; he was lost. - -Everything seemed to give way within him, and in his despair he fell to -the ground; but as he fell, his foot struck against something hard,--it -was a long beam; he gave a slight exclamation of surprise and delight; -he was saved. - -Ah! no one knows what heart-rending alternations of joy and hope one -short minute of life can contain. - -Benvenuto seized the beam as a shipwrecked sailor seizes the spar which -may save him from drowning. Under ordinary circumstances two strong men -would have found difficulty in lifting it; he dragged it to the wall, -and stood it on end against it. Then he climbed to the top of the wall, -clinging to the beam with his hands and knees, but when he arrived there -his strength was insufficient to raise the beam and lower it on the -other side. - -For a moment his head swam; he closed his eyes, and it seemed as if he -were struggling in a lake of flames. - -Suddenly he remembered his strips of linen, by means of which he had -descended from the platform. - -He slid down the beam to the ground once more, and ran to the spot where -he had left them hanging; but he had fastened them so securely at the -opposite end, that he could not detach them. In his desperation he -raised himself from the ground by hanging to them, pulling with all his -strength, and hoping to break them. Fortunately one of the knots slipped -at last, and Benvenuto fell to the ground, grasping a fragment some -twelve feet long. - -This was all that he needed; he rose with a bound, and, filled with -fresh vigor, climbed up to the top of the wall once more, fastened the -cord to the end of the beam, and slid down on the other side. - -When he reached the end of the cord he felt in vain for the ground with -his feet, and, upon looking over his shoulder, saw that it was still -some six feet away. He let go the cord, and dropped. - -He lay still for an instant; he was completely exhausted, and there was -no skin left upon his legs and hands. For some moments he gazed stupidly -at his bleeding flesh; but five o'clock struck, and he saw that the -stars were beginning to pale. - -He rose; but as he rose, a sentinel whom he had not noticed, but who had -undoubtedly witnessed his performance, walked toward him. Benvenuto saw -that he was lost, and that he must either kill or be killed. He drew his -modelling tool from his belt, and marched straight toward the guard, -with such a determined expression that worthy doubtless realized -that he had not only a powerful man, but a deathly despair, to contend -with. Benvenuto was determined not to give ground, but suddenly the -soldier turned his back upon him as if he had not seen him. The prisoner -understood what that meant. - -He ran to the last rampart, and found himself some twelve or fifteen -feet above the moat. Such a trifle was not likely to stop a man like -Benvenuto Cellini, in his present predicament, when he had left part of -his cord hanging from the top of the tower, and the other part attached -to the beam, so that he had nothing left with which to lower himself, -and there was no time to lose. He hung by his hands from a ring in the -masonry, and, with a mental prayer, let himself drop. - -This time he fainted outright. - -An hour passed before he came to himself; but the coolness which is -always noticeable in the air as dawn approaches, revived him. He lay for -an instant with his mind in confusion, then passed his hand over his -forehead and remembered everything. - -He felt a sharp pain in his head, and saw blood upon the stones where he -lay, which had trickled down from his face. He put his hand to his -forehead a second time, not to collect his thoughts, but to investigate -his wounds, which he found were but skin deep. He smiled and tried to -stand up, but fell heavily back; his right leg was broken three inches -above the ankle. The leg was so benumbed that at first he felt no pain. - -He at once removed his shirt and tore it into strips, then put the ends -of the bone together as well as he could, and applied the bandage, -binding it with all his strength, and passing it under the sole of his -foot now and then, in order to keep the bones in place. - -Then he dragged himself on all fours toward one of the city gates which -was within five hundred yards. After half an hour of atrocious -suffering, he reached the gate only to find that it was closed. But he -noticed a large stone under the gate, which yielded to his first attempt -to remove it, and he passed through the hole left by it. - -He had not taken twenty steps beyond the gate when he was attacked by a -pack of famished dogs, who were attracted by the odor of blood. He drew -his modelling tool, and despatched the largest and most savage with a -blow in the side. The others immediately threw themselves upon their -defunct comrade and devoured him. - -Benvenuto dragged himself along to the church of La Transpontina, where -he fell in with a water-carrier who had just filled his jars and loaded -his donkey. He called him. - -"Look you." he said; "I was with my mistress; circumstances compelled -me, although I went in at the door, to come out through the window. I -leaped from the first floor, and broke my leg; carry me to the steps of -Saint Peter's, and I will give you a golden crown." - -The water-carrier, without a word, took the wounded man on his shoulder, -and carried him to the designated spot. Having received his pay, he went -his way without so much as looking behind. - -Thereupon Benvenuto, still on all fours, made his way to the palace of -Monseigneur de Montluc, the French Ambassador, who lived only a few -steps away. - -Monseigneur de Montluc exerted himself so zealously in his behalf, that -at the end of a month Benvenuto was cured, at the end of two months he -was pardoned, and at the end of four months he started for France with -Ascanio and Pagolo. - -The poor governor, who had gone mad, lived and died a madman, constantly -imagining that he was a bat, and making the most violent efforts to fly. - - - - -IV - - -SCOZZONE - - -When Benvenuto Cellini arrived in France, François I. was at the -château of Fontainebleau with his whole court. The artist stopped in -the town, sending word of his arrival to the Cardinal of Ferrara. The -cardinal, who knew that the king was impatiently awaiting his coming, at -once transmitted the intelligence to his Majesty. Benvenuto was received -by the king the same day. - -"Benvenuto," he said, addressing him in that mellifluous and expressive -tongue in which the artist wrote so well, "for a few days, while you are -recovering from your fatigue and vexation, repose, enjoy yourself, make -merry, and meanwhile we will reflect and determine upon some noble work -for you to execute." - -Thereupon he ordered apartments in the château to be made ready for the -artist, and that he should want for nothing. - -Thus Benvenuto found himself at the outset installed in the very centre -of French civilization, at that time behind that of Italy, with which it -was already struggling for supremacy, and which it was soon to surpass. -As he looked around, he could easily believe that he had never left the -Tuscan capital, for he found himself in the midst of the arts and -artists he had known at Florence; Primaticcio had succeeded Leonardo da -Vinci and Rosso. - -It was for Benvenuto, therefore, to show himself not unworthy of these -illustrious predecessors, and to carry the art of statuary as high in -the eyes of the most gallant court of Europe as those three great -masters had carried the art of painting. And so Benvenuto determined to -anticipate the king's wishes by not waiting for him to command the noble -work promised, and to execute it himself, of his own motion, and with -his own resources. He had readily discovered the king's affection for -the royal residence where he had met him, and determined to flatter his -preference by executing a statue to be called the "Nymph of -Fontainebleau." - -A lovely work to undertake was this statue, crowned at once with oak and -wheat-ears and vines; for Fontainebleau is partly field, partly forest, -and partly vineyard. The nymph of whom Benvenuto dreamed must therefore -be reminiscent of Ceres and Diana and Erigone,--three types of -marvellous beauty melted into one, and which, while retaining their -distinctive characteristics, should still form but a single whole. Then -there should be represented upon the pedestal the attributes of those -three goddesses; and they who have seen the fascinating figures about -the statue of Perseus know the Florentine master's method of executing -those marvellous details. - -But it was his misfortune that, although he had in his own mind his -ideal of beauty, he was sadly in need of a human model for the material -part of his work. Where was he to find this model, in whose single -person could be found the threefold beauty of three goddesses? - -Certain it is, that if, as in the olden days, the days of Apelles and -Phidias, the beauties of the day, those queens of loveliness, had come -of their own accord to pose for Benvenuto, he would have found what he -sought within the precincts of the court; for there was a whole Olympus -in the flower of youth and beauty. There were Catherine de Medicis, then -but one and twenty; Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre, who was -called the Fourth Grace and the Tenth Muse; and lastly, Madame la -Duchesse d'Etampes, whom we shall meet frequently in the course of this -narrative, and who was known as the loveliest of blue-stockings and the -most learned of beauties. In this galaxy the artist could have found -more than he needed; but the days of Apelles and Phidias had long gone -by, and he must look elsewhere. - -It was with great pleasure, therefore, that he learned that the court -was about to set out for Paris. Unfortunately, as Benvenuto himself -says, the court in those days travelled like a funeral procession. -Preceded by twelve to fifteen thousand horse, halting for the night in -some place where there were no more than two or three houses, wasting -four hours every evening in pitching the tents, and four hours every -morning in striking them,--in this way, although the distance was but -sixteen leagues, five days were spent in the journey from Fontainebleau -to Paris. - -Twenty times on the way Benvenuto was tempted to push forward, but as -often the Cardinal of Ferrara dissuaded him, saying that, if the king -was compelled to pass a single day without seeing him, he would -certainly ask what had become of him, and when he learned that he had -left the procession would look upon his unceremonious departure as a -failure of respect toward himself. So Benvenuto chafed at his bit, and -tried to kill time during the long halt by sketching his nymph of -Fontainebleau. - -At last he arrived at Paris. His first visit was to Primaticcio, who was -commissioned to continue the work of Leonardo da Vinci and Rosso at -Fontainebleau. Primaticcio, who had lived long at Paris, should be able -at once to put him upon the path he was seeking, and to tell him where -to look for models. - -A word, in passing, as to Primaticcio. - -Il Signor Francesco Primaticcio, who was commonly called at this time Le -Bologna, from his birthplace, had studied under Jules Romain for six -years, and had lived eight years in France, whither François I. had -summoned him upon the advice of the Marquis of Mantua, his great -purveyor of artists. He was, as any one may see at Fontainebleau, a man -of prodigious fecundity, with a broad, florid manner, and irreproachable -regularity of outline. For a long time Primaticcio, with his -encyclopedic brain, his vast store of knowledge, and his boundless -talent, which embraced all varieties of painting,--for a long time, we -say, he was despised, but in our day he has been avenged for three -centuries of injustice. Under the inspiration of religious ardor, he -painted the pictures in the chapel of Beauregard; in moral subjects he -personified the principal Christian virtues at the Hôtel Montmorency; -and the immensity of Fontainebleau was filled to overflowing with his -works. At the Golden Gate and in the Salle du Bal he treated the most -graceful subjects of mythology and allegory; in the Gallery of Ulysses -and the Chamber of Saint Louis he was an epic poet with Homer, and -translated with his brush the Odyssey and a portion of the Iliad. Then -he passed from the Age of Fable to heroic times, and historical subjects -became his study. The principal incidents in the life of Alexander and -Romulus, and the surrender of Havre, were reproduced in the painting -with which he decorated the Grand Gallery and the apartment adjoining -the Salle du Bal. He turned his attention to the beauties of nature in -the great landscapes of the Cabinet of Curiosities. In short, if we care -to take the measurement of his eminent talent, to consider the various -forms in which it found expression, and to reckon up its work, we shall -find that in ninety-eight large pictures and a hundred and thirty -smaller ones he has treated, one after another, landscapes, marine -views, historical, allegorical, and religious subjects, portraits, and -the themes of epic poetry. - -He was, as may be seen, a man likely to appreciate Benvenuto; and so, as -soon as Benvenuto arrived at Paris, he ran to Primaticcio with open -arms, and was welcomed by him in the same temper. - -After the first serious conversation between the two friends meeting -thus in a foreign land, Benvenuto opened his portfolio, imparted all his -ideas to Primaticcio, showed him all his sketches, and asked him if -there was any one of the models he was accustomed to use who fulfilled -the necessary conditions. - -Primaticcio shook his head, smiling sadly. In truth, they were no longer -in Italy, the daughter of Greece and rival of her mother. France was in -those days, as it is to-day, the land of grace, and prettiness, and -coquetry; but in vain would one have sought in the domain of the Valois -that imperious loveliness which inspired the genius of Michel-Angelo and -Raphael, of John of Bologna and Andrea del Sarto, on the banks of the -Tiber and the Arno. To be sure, if the painter or sculptor had been at -liberty to choose a model at will among the aristocracy, he would soon -have found the types he sought; but like those shades which are detained -on this side of the Styx, he was perforce content to see those noble, -lovely forms, the constant objects of his artistic aspirations, pass -over into the Elysian Fields which he was forbidden to enter. - -It turned out as Primaticcio anticipated: Benvenuto passed in review his -whole army of models, and saw not one who seemed to combine all the -qualities essential for the work of which he was dreaming. - -Thereupon he caused all the Venuses at a crown the sitting whose names -were furnished him to be summoned to the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace, -where he was installed, but none of them fulfilled his expectations. - -Benvenuto was almost at his wit's end when, one evening, as he was -returning home alone along Rue des Petits-Champs, after supping with -three compatriots whom he had met at Paris,--namely, Pietro Strozzi, the -Count of Anguillara, his brother-in-law, and Galeotto Pico, nephew of -the famous Pico della Mirandole,--he noticed a graceful, lovely girl -walking in front of him. Benvenuto fairly leaped for joy: the girl was, -of all whom he had thus far seen, by far the best qualified to give -shape to his dream. He followed her, therefore. She walked along by the -church of Saint-Honoré, and turned into Rue du Pelican; there she -looked around to see if she was still followed, and, seeing Benvenuto -within a few steps, hastily opened a door and disappeared. Benvenuto -went to the same door and opened it in time to see the skirt of the -young woman's dress disappear at a bend in the stairway, which was -lighted by a smoking lamp. - -He went up to the first floor: a chamber door stood ajar, and in the -chamber he discovered the girl he had followed. - -Without explaining the artistic motive of his intrusion, indeed, without -saying a word, Benvenuto, desirous to ascertain whether the outlines of -her body corresponded with those of her face, walked around and around -the poor, bewildered girl, as he might have done had she been a statue, -taking her arms and raising them above her head in the attitude which he -proposed that his Nymph of Fontainebleau should assume; and she obeyed -his gestures mechanically. - -There was little of Ceres in the model now before his eyes, and still -less of Diana, but very much of Erigone. The master thereupon made up -his mind, in view of the manifest impossibility of finding the three -types united in one person, to be satisfied with the Bacchante. But for -the Bacchante he had certainly found all that he desired,--sparkling -eyes, coral lips, teeth like pearls, graceful neck, well rounded -shoulders, and broad hips; and in the slender wrists and ankles, and the -long nails, there was a suggestion of aristocratic blood, which removed -the artist's last hesitation. - -"What is your name, mademoiselle?" Benvenuto, with his foreign accent, -at last asked the poor girl, whose wonder momentarily increased. - -"Catherine, monsieur, at your service," she replied. - -"Very good! Here is a golden crown, Mademoiselle Catherine, for the -trouble I have caused you. Come to me to-morrow at the Cardinal of -Ferrara's hotel on Rue Saint-Martin, and I will give you as much more -for the same service." - -The girl hesitated an instant, thinking that he was making sport of her. -But the gold crown seemed to prove that he was speaking seriously, and -after a very brief pause, she said,-- - -"At what time?" - -"Ten o'clock in the morning: does that suit your convenience?" - -"Perfectly." - -"So that I may rely upon you?" - -"I will come." - -Benvenuto saluted her as he would have saluted a duchess, and returned -home with a glad heart. He at once burned all his idealistic sketches, -and set to work upon one based upon flesh and blood. Having completed -the drawing, he placed a quantity of wax upon a pedestal, and beneath -his dexterous touch it instantly assumed the shape of the nymph of whom -he had dreamed; so that when Catherine appeared at the door of his -studio the next morning, a part of his task was already done. - -As we have said, Catherine utterly failed to understand Benvenuto's -motives. She was vastly astonished, therefore, when, having closed the -door behind her, he showed her the statue already begun, and explained -why he had asked her to come. - -Catherine was a light-hearted, joyous creature, and laughed heartily at -her mistake; her bosom swelled with pride at the thought of posing as a -model for a goddess to be presented to a king, so she removed her -clothing, and of her own motion assumed the pose indicated by the -statue,--so gracefully, and withal so exactly, that the artist, when he -turned and saw her posed so naturally and well, exclaimed in delight. - -Benvenuto at once set to work: his was, as we have said, one of those -noble, vigorous, artistic natures in which inspiration is aroused by the -work beneath their hands, and which seem to become illumined as their -work proceeds. He had thrown aside his doublet, and as he went back and -forth from the model to the copy, from nature to art, he seemed, with -his bare neck and arms, like Jupiter, ready to kindle everything that he -touched into flame. Catherine, accustomed to the commonplace or worn out -organization of the young men of the lower classes with whom she had -associated, or the young noblemen whose plaything she had been, gazed at -this man with the inspired glance, quickened respiration, and swelling -breast, with an unfamiliar sensation of wonder. She seemed herself to -rise to the master's level; her eyes shone, and the artist's inspiration -was communicated to the model. - -The sitting lasted two hours; at the end of that time Benvenuto gave -Catherine her gold crown, and took leave of her as ceremoniously as -before, making an appointment for the following day at the same hour. - -Catherine returned to her own room, and did not go out during the day. -The next morning she was at the studio ten minutes before the appointed -time. - -The same scene was repeated. On that day, as on the day before, -Benvenuto's inspiration rose to sublime heights; beneath his hand, as -beneath that of Prometheus, the clay seemed to breathe. The Bacchante's -head was already modelled, and seemed a living head set upon a shapeless -trunk. Catherine smiled upon this celestial sister, fashioned in her -image; she had never been so happy, and, strangely enough, she was -unable to explain the sentiment which caused her happiness. - -On the following day the master and the model met again at the same -hour; but Catherine was conscious of a sensation, absent on the -preceding days, which caused the blood to rush to her face as soon as -she began to disrobe. The poor child was beginning to love, and love -brought modesty in its train. - -On the fourth day it was still worse, and Benvenuto was compelled -several times to remind her that he was not modelling the Venus de -Medicis, but Erigone, drunken with debauchery and wine. Moreover, her -patience would be tried but a little longer; two days more, and the -model's services would be no longer required. - -In the afternoon of the second day, Benvenuto, having given the last -touch to his statue, thanked Catherine for her complaisance, and gave -her four gold crowns; but Catherine let them fall to the floor. The poor -child's dream was ended; from that moment she must return to her former -condition, and that condition had become hateful to her since the day -that she entered the master's studio. Benvenuto, who had no suspicion of -what was taking place in the girl's heart, picked up the four crowns, -handed them to her once more, pressing her hand as he did so, and said -to her that, if he ever could be of service to her, she must apply to no -one but him. Then he passed into the apartment where his apprentices -were at work, seeking Ascanio, to whom he wished to exhibit his -completed statue. - -Catherine kissed the tools the master had used, one after another, and -went away, weeping. - -The next morning Catherine appeared at the studio while Benvenuto was -alone, and when he, astonished to see her again, asked her why she had -come, she knelt at his feet and asked him if he did not need a servant. - -Benvenuto had an artist's heart, quick to detect feeling in another. He -divined what was taking place in the poor child's heart, and raised her -from the floor, kissing her upon the forehead as he did so. - -From that moment Catherine was a part of the studio, which, as we have -said, she brightened and made cheerful with her childish ways, and -enlivened by her unceasing activity. She had become almost indispensable -to everybody, above all to Benvenuto. She it was who superintended and -managed everything, scolding and caressing Ruperta, who was dismayed at -her first appearance in the household, but ended by loving her as -everybody else did. - -The Erigone lost nothing by this arrangement. Having the model always at -hand, Benvenuto had retouched and perfected it with greater care than he -had ever before bestowed upon one of his statues, and had then carried -it to François I., whose admiration knew no bounds, and who ordered him -to execute it in silver. He subsequently conversed for a long time with -the goldsmith, asked him if he was pleased with his studio, where it was -situated, and whether there were beautiful things to be seen there; and -when he dismissed him, he determined in his own mind to take him by -surprise some morning, but said nothing to him of his intention. - -Thus did matters stand when this history opens,--Benvenuto working, -Catherine singing, Ascanio dreaming, and Pagolo praying. - -On the day following that on which Ascanio returned home so late, thanks -to his excursion in the neighborhood of the Hôtel de Nesle, there was a -loud knocking at the street door. Dame Ruperta at once rose to answer -the summons, but Scozzone (the reader will remember that this was the -name given to Catherine by Benvenuto) was already out of the room. - -A moment later they heard her voice, half joyous, half terrified, -crying,-- - -"O mon Dieu! master! mon Dieu! it is the king! The king in person has -come to see your studio!" - -And poor Scozzone, leaving all the doors open behind her, reappeared, -pale and trembling, on the threshold of the workshop, where Benvenuto -was at work, surrounded by his pupils and apprentices. - - - - -V - - -GENIUS AND ROYALTY - - -In very truth, François I. was entering the courtyard with all his -retinue. He led by the hand the Duchesse d'Etampes. The King of Navarre -followed with the Dauphine, Catherine de Medicis. The Dauphin, -afterwards Henri II., came next, with his aunt, Marguerite de Valois, -Queen of Navarre. Almost all the nobility accompanied them. - -Benvenuto went to meet them, without confusion or embarrassment, and -welcomed the king, princes, great lords, and beautiful women as a friend -welcomes friends. And yet there were in the throng the most illustrious -names of France, and the most resplendent beauties in the world. -Marguerite charmed, Madame d'Etampes entranced, Catherine de Medicis -astonished, Diane de Poitiers dazzled. But Benvenuto was familiar with -the purest types of antiquity and of the sixteenth century in Italy, -even as the beloved pupil of Michel-Angelo was accustomed to the society -of kings. - -"You must needs permit us, madame, to admire by your side the marvels we -are to behold," said François I. to the Duchesse d'Etampes, who replied -with a smile. - -Anne de Pisseleu, Duchesse d'Etampes, who since the king's return from -his captivity in Spain had succeeded the Comtesse de Châteaubriand in -his favor, was at this time in all the splendor of a truly royal -loveliness. Her figure was erect and graceful, and she carried her -charming head with a dignity and feline grace which recalled at once the -cat and panther, which she also resembled in her habit of pouncing upon -one unexpectedly, and in her murderous appetites. With all this the -royal courtesan was very clever at assuming an air of sincerity and -candor which would disarm the most suspicious. Nothing could be more -mobile or more treacherous than the features of this pale-lipped woman, -to-day Hermione, to-morrow Galatea, with her smile, sometimes cajoling, -sometimes terrible,--her glance, at one moment caressing and suggestive, -and the next flaming with wrath. She had a habit of raising her eyelids -so slowly that one could never tell whether they would disclose a -languorous or a threatening expression. Haughty and imperious, she -subjugated François I. by holding his passions enthralled; proud and -jealous, she insisted that he should call upon the Comtesse de -Châteaubriand to return the jewels he had given her; by returning them -in the form of bullion, the lovely and melancholy countess did at least -protest against the profanation. Supple and deceitful, she had closed -her eyes more than once when the king's capricious fancy seemed to -distinguish some charming young woman at court, whom, however, he -invariably abandoned very soon to return to his beautiful enchantress. - -"I was in haste to see you, Benvenuto, for two months have now passed -since your coming to our realm, and vexatious affairs of state have -since that time forbade my turning my thoughts to things artistic. -Impute it to my brother and cousin, the Emperor, who gives me not a -moment of repose." - - -[Illustration 03] - - -"If it is your will, Sire, I will write to him, and pray that he will -give you time to be a great friend to art, since you have proved to him -ere this that you are a mighty captain." - -"Pray, do you know Charles V.?" inquired the King of Navarre. - -"Four years since, Sire, I had the honor, being then at Rome, to present -a missal of my making to his sacred Majesty, and make a speech to him -which seemed to touch him nearly." - -"What said his sacred Majesty to you?" - -"He said that he already knew me from having seen upon the Pope's cope, -three years before, a carved stud, which did me honor." - -"Ah! I see that you are spoiled for royal compliments," said François -I. - -"Sire, 't is true that I have had the fortune to please many cardinals, -grand dukes, princes, and kings." - -"Prithee, show me your beautiful designs, that I may see if I shall not -be a harder judge to please than others." - -"Sire, I have had very little time; however, here are a vase and silver -basin which I have commenced, and which are perhaps not too unworthy of -your Majesty's attention." - -The king examined the two works of art for five minutes without a word. -It seemed that the handiwork made him forget the workman. At last, as -the ladies gathered curiously about him, he spoke. - -"See, mesdames," he cried, "what marvellous workmanship! Observe the -hold and novel shape of this vase! What ingenuity and marvellous -modelling in the bas-reliefs and bosses, mon Dieu! Especially do I -admire the beauty of the lines; and see how true to life and how diverse -are the attitudes of the figures! Look at the one holding her arms over -her head; the fugitive gesture is so naturally seized that one wonders -that she doesn't continue the movement. In very truth, I believe that -the ancients never did anything so fine. I remember the best works of -antiquity, and those of the most eminent artists of Italy; but nothing -ever made so deep an impression upon me as this. O Madame de Navarre, I -pray you look at this pretty child lost among the flowers, and waving -her little foot in the air; how graceful and pretty and instinct with -life it all is!" - -"Others have complimented me, great king," cried Benvenuto, "but you -understand me!" - -"Have you aught else!" asked the king, greedily. - -"Here is a medallion representing Leda and her swan, made for Cardinal -Gabriel Cesarini; and here a seal cut in intaglio, representing Saint -John and Saint Ambrose; this is a reliquary, enamelled by myself--" - -"Do you strike medals?" interposed Madame d'Etampes. - -"As Cavadone of Milan did, madame." - -"And you work in enamel?" said Marguerite. - -"Like Amerigo of Florence." - -"And you engrave seals?" inquired Catherine. - -"Like Lantizco of Perouse. Pray, did you think, madame, that my talent -is confined to the production of tiny golden toys and great silver -pieces? I can do a little of everything, God be praised! I am a passable -military engineer, and I have twice prevented the capture of Rome. I can -turn a sonnet prettily, and your Majesty has but to order me to compose -a poem, provided that it be in praise of yourself, and I will undertake -to execute it neither better nor worse than if my name were Clement -Marot. As to music, which my father taught me with a stick, I found the -method an admirable one, and I am so good a performer on the flute and -cornet that Clement VII. employed me among his musicians at the age of -twenty-four. Furthermore, I discovered the secret of compounding an -excellent powder, and I can also make beautiful carbines and surgical -instruments. If your Majesty is at war, and chooses to employ me as -man-at-arms, you will find that I am not to be despised in that -capacity, and that I know as well how to handle an arquebus as to sight -a culverin. As a hunter I have brought down my twenty-five peacocks in a -day, and as an artillerist I have freed the Emperor from the Prince of -Orange, and your Majesty from the Connétable de Bourbon: traitors seem -not to be fortunate when they encounter me." - -"Of which exploit are you the prouder," the young Dauphin interrupted, -"of having killed the constable or the twenty-five peacocks?" - -"I am proud of neither, monseigneur. Like all other gifts, address is -God-given, and I simply used my address." - -"By my faith, I was ignorant that you had already rendered me so great a -service," said the king,--"a service which, however, my sister -Marguerite will be at great pains to pardon you. Was it indeed you who -slew the Connétable de Bourbon? Prithee, how came it to pass?" - -"Mon Dieu! it was the simplest thing in the world. The constable's army -had arrived unexpectedly before Rome, and a vigorous assault upon the -fortifications was in progress. I sallied forth, with a few friends, to -watch the fighting. As I left my house, I instinctively put my arquebus -over my shoulder. When we reached the walls of the city, I saw that -there was nothing to be done; but, I said to myself, it shall not be -said that I came hither to so little purpose. So I aimed my arquebus -toward the point where I saw a numerous and compact group of soldiers, -and singled out one who stood a head taller than his companions. He -fell, and a great uproar at once arose, caused by the shot I had fired. -I had, in truth, slain Bourbon. I learned afterward that it was he who -towered above his companions." - -While Benvenuto was relating this incident with a most indifferent air, -the circle of lords and ladies of which he was the centre spread out -somewhat, and they all gazed with respect, and almost with terror, at -this unconscious hero. François I. alone remained at his side. - -"And so, my dear fellow," he said, "I see that you loaned me your -gallantry before consecrating your genius to me." - -"Sire," Benvenuto rejoined with a smile, "I believe, in good sooth, that -I was born to be your servitor. An incident of my early youth has always -seemed to me to admit of no other interpretation. Your crest is a -salamander, is it not?" - -"Yes, with this device: _Nutrisco et extinguo_." - -"Very well! When I was about five years old, I was sitting one day with -my father in a small room where they had been scalding the lye, and -where a rousing fire of young oak was still burning. It was very cold. -Happening to glance at the fire, I espied a tiny creature like a lizard -diverting itself in the spot where the heat was most intense. I pointed -it out to my father, and my father--pray pardon me this detail of a -somewhat brutal custom of my country--struck me a violent blow, and said -to me, with great gentleness, 'I do not strike thee because thou hast -done wrong, dear child, but so that thou mayst remember that the little -lizard thou hast seen in the fire is a salamander. No human being has -ever seen that animal save thou.' Was not that a premonition of fate, -Sire? Indeed, I think I was predestined to do as I have done, for at the -age of twenty I was about to set out for England, when the sculptor -Pietro Torregiano, who was to take me thither, told me that in his youth -he one day struck our Michel-Angelo in the face, on the occasion of some -studio quarrel. Ah! I abandoned all thought of the journey then; not for -a prince's title would I have travelled with one who had raised his hand -against my great sculptor. I remained in Italy, and from Italy, instead -of going to England, I came to France." - -"France, proud of your choice, Benvenuto, will see to it that you do not -sigh for your fatherland." - -"Oh! my fatherland is art, and my prince he who commands the richest cup -at my hands." - -"Have you any beautiful work now in contemplation, Cellini?" - -"O yes, Sire,--a Christ. Not a Christ upon the Cross, but Christ in His -radiance and glory; and I shall copy as closely as possible the infinite -beauty of the guise in which he revealed himself to me." - -"What!" laughed Marguerite, the sceptic; "in addition to all the kings -of earth, have you seen the King of Heaven, too?" - -"Yes, madame," replied Benvenuto, with childlike simplicity. - -"Oh! pray tell us of that," said the Queen of Navarre. - -"Willingly, madame," said Benvenuto, with a confident air, which implied -that it did not occur to him that any one could doubt any part of his -story. - -"Some time before," he continued, "I had seen Satan and all his legions, -whom a necromancing friend of mine, a priest, evoked for me at the -Coliseum. Indeed, we had much ado to rid ourselves of them. But the -dread souvenir of those infernal apparitions was forever banished from -my mind when, in answer to my fervent prayer, the blessed Saviour of -mankind appeared to me, in a flood of sunlight, crowned with glory, and -brought sweet consolation to me in the misery of my captivity." - -"And are you sure beyond a peradventure," demanded the Queen of Navarre, -"so sure that you have no shadow of doubt, that Christ really appeared -to you?" - -"I have no doubt of it, madame." - -"In that case, Benvenuto, go on and fashion a Christ for our chapel," -said François I., with his usual good humor. - -"Sire, if your Majesty will so far indulge me, I pray you to order -something different, and allow me to postpone the execution of that -work." - -"Why so?" - -"Because I promised God to undertake it for no other sovereign than -Him." - -"_À la bonne heure!_ Be it so! Benvenuto, I need twelve candlesticks -for my table." - -"Ah! that is a different matter; and therein, Sire, you shall be obeyed." - -"It is my wish that they should take the form' of twelve silver -statues." - -"The effect will be magnificent, Sire." - -"They must represent six gods and six goddesses, and be of my own -height." - -"Why, your order is for a whole epic poem," said the Duchesse d'Etampes; -"for a work of marvellous, surprising splendor, is it not, Monsieur -Benvenuto?" - -"I am never surprised, madame." - -"I should be greatly surprised, my self," retorted the duchess, somewhat -piqued, "if other sculptors than those of the olden time could carry -such a task to completion." - -"I hope, nevertheless, to execute it as satisfactorily as they could -have done," rejoined Benvenuto, coolly. - -"Oho! are you not inclined to boast a little, Monsieur Benvenuto?" - -"I never boast, madame." - -As he made this reply with perfect calmness, Cellini looked at Madame -d'Etampes, and the haughty duchess lowered her eyes, in spite of -herself, under that firm, assured glance, in which there was no trace of -irritation. Her resentment was aroused by the consciousness of his -superiority, to which she yielded even while resisting it, and without -knowing in what it consisted. She had thought hitherto that beauty was -the greatest power in the world; she had forgotten genius. - -"What treasure," said she, with a bitter sneer, "would suffice to -recompense such talent as yours?" - -"None that I can command, i' faith," rejoined François I., "and -apropos, Benvenuto, I remember that you have as yet received but five -hundred crowns. Will you be content with the stipend which I allowed my -painter, Leonardo da Vinci, seven hundred gold crowns yearly? I will pay -over and above that for all works which you may execute for me." - -"Sire, your offer is worthy such a king as François I., and--I venture -to say it--of such an artist as Cellini. And yet I shall make so bold as -to prefer a request to your Majesty." - -"It is granted in advance, Benvenuto." - -"Sire, I am but ill and narrowly accommodated in this edifice. One of my -pupils has discovered a location much more favorably situated than this -for the execution of such great works as my king may choose to command. -The property in question belongs to your Majesty; it is the Grand-Nesle. -It is at the disposal of the Provost of Paris, but he does not dwell -therein; he occupies only the Petit-Nesle, which I will gladly leave in -his possession." - -"So be it, Benvenuto," said François; "take up your abode at the -Grand-Nesle, and I shall have only to cross the river to talk with you -and admire your masterpieces." - -"Consider, Sire," interposed Madame d'Etampes, "that you thereby, for no -motive, deprive a nobleman, and one devoted to my service, of property -appertaining to his office." - -Benvenuto glanced at her, and for the second time Anne lowered her eyes -beneath that steady, piercing gaze. Cellini rejoined, with the same -naïve good faith with which he had described the supernatural -apparitions:-- - -"I, too, am of noble birth, madame; my family descends from a gallant -officer, who held high rank under Julius Cæsar,--one Fiorino, of -Cellino, near Montefiascone,--and who gave his name to Florence; while -your provost and his ancestors, if my memory serves me, have never given -their name to anything. However," continued Benvenuto, turning to -François, and changing his expression and his tone, "it may be that I -have made too hold it may be that I shall incur the hatred of powerful -and influential persons, who, despite your Majesty's protection, may -prove too strong for me at last. The Provost of Paris is said to have -something very like an army at his orders." - -"I have been told," the king interrupted, "that on a certain day, at -Rome, one Cellini, a goldsmith, retained, in default of payment -therefor, a silver vase ordered by Monsieur Farnese, then cardinal, and -to-day Pope." - -"It is true, Sire." - -"Furthermore, that the cardinal's whole household stormed the -goldsmith's studio, sword in hand, with the design of carrying away the -vase by force." - -"That, too, is true." - -"But this Cellini, in ambush behind the door, armed with his carbine, -did defend himself so valorously that he put Monseigneur le Cardinal's -people to flight; and was paid by the cardinal on the following day." - -"All that, Sire, is strictly true." - -"Very good! are not you the Cellini in question?" - -"Yes, Sire; let your Majesty but continue to bestow your favor upon me -and nothing has any power to terrify me." - -"In that case, go straight before you," said the king, smiling in his -beard; "go where you will, since you are of noble blood." - -Madame d'Etampes said no more, but she registered a mental vow of deadly -hatred to Cellini from that moment,--the hatred of an offended woman. - -"One last favor, Sire," said Cellini. "I cannot present all my workmen -to you; they are ten in number, some French, some German, all worthy, -talented comrades. But here are my two pupils whom I brought from Italy -with me, Pagolo and Ascanio. Come forward, Pagolo, and raise your head -and your eyes a little; not impertinently, but like an honest man who -has no evil action to blush for. This good fellow lacks inventive genius -perhaps, Sire, and is slightly lacking in earnestness, too; but he is a -careful, conscientious artist, who works slowly, but well, who -comprehends my ideas perfectly, and executes them faithfully. And this -is Ascanio, my noble-hearted, amiable pupil, and my beloved child. It is -doubtless true that he has not the vigorous creative faculty which will -represent in a bas-relief the serried ranks of two hostile armies -meeting in deadly encounter, and tearing each other to pieces, or lions -and tigers clinging with claws and teeth to the edge of a vase. Nor has -he the original fancy which invents horrible chimeras and impossible -dragons. No; but his soul, which resembles his body, has the instinct of -a divine ideal, so to speak. Ask him to design an angel, or a group of -nymphs, and no one can equal the exquisite poesy and grace of his work. -With Pagolo I have four arms, with Ascanio I have two souls; and then he -loves me, and I am very happy to have always by my side a pure and -devoted heart like his." - -While his master was speaking, Ascanio stood near him, modestly, but -without embarrassment, in an attitude of unstudied grace, and Madame -d'Etampes could not remove her eyes from the fascinating young Italian, -black-eyed and black-haired, who seemed a living copy of Apollino. - -"If Ascanio," said she, "understands grace and beauty so well, and if he -cares to come some morning to the Hôtel d'Etampes, I will furnish him -with precious stones and gold, with which he may cause some marvellous -flower to bloom for me." - -Ascanio bowed and thanked her with a glance. - -"And I," said the king, "grant to him, as well as to Pagolo, a yearly -pension of one hundred crowns." - -"I undertake to make them earn their pension, Sire," said Benvenuto. - -"But who is the lovely child with the long eyelashes, hiding yonder in -the corner?" said François, spying Scozzone for the first time. - -"Oh, pay no attention to her, Sire," replied Benvenuto, with a frown; -"she is the only one of the beautiful things in this studio whom I like -not to have noticed." - -"Aha! you are jealous, my Benvenuto." - -"Mon Dieu! Sire, I like not that any hand should be laid upon my -property; to compare small things with great, it is as if some other -should dare to think of Madame d'Etampes; you would be furious, Sire. -Scozzone is my duchess." - -The duchess, who was gazing at Ascanio, bit her lips at this -unceremonious interruption. Many courtiers smiled in spite of -themselves, and all the ladies giggled. As for the king, he laughed -outright. - -"Foi de gentilhomme! your jealousy is within its right, Benvenuto, and -an artist and a king may well understand each other. Adieu, my friend: I -commend my statues to your attention. You will commence with Jupiter, -naturally, and when you have finished the model you will show it to me. -Adieu, and good luck! We will meet at the Hôtel de Nesle." - -"To bid me show you the model is a simple matter, Sire; but how shall I -gain entrance to the Louvre?" - -"Your name will be given at the gates, with orders to introduce you to -my presence." - -Cellini bowed, and with Pagolo and Ascanio, escorted the king and court -to the street. At the door he knelt and kissed the king's hand. - -"Sire," he said with deep feeling, "you have heretofore saved me from -captivity, perhaps from death, through the intervention of Monseigneur -de Montluc; you have overwhelmed me with wealth, you have honored my -poor studio with your presence; but far more than all this, Sire, is the -fact, and I know not how to thank you that it is so, that you so -magnificently anticipate all my dreams. We ordinarily work only for a -chosen few scattered through the centuries, but I shall have, had the -signal honor of finding a living judge, always present, always -enlightened. Until now I have been only the workman of the future; -permit me henceforth to call myself your Majesty's goldsmith." - -"My workman, my goldsmith, my artist, and my friend, Benvenuto, if the -last title seems to you no more deserving of contempt than the others. -Adieu, or rather, _au revoir_." - -It is needless to say that all the princes and nobles followed the -example set by the king, and loaded Cellini with flattery and offers of -friendship. - -When all were gone, and Benvenuto was left alone in the courtyard with -his pupils, they thanked him, Ascanio effusively, Pagolo with something -very like constraint. - -"Nay, do not thank me, my children, it's not worth while. But look you, -if you do in truth consider yourselves under any obligation to me, I -wish, since this subject of conversation was introduced to-day, to ask a -service at your hands; it relates to something which I have very much at -heart. You heard what I said to the king apropos of Catherine, and what -I said to him truly expressed the deepest feeling of my heart. The child -is necessary to my life, my friends; to my life as an artist, because, -as you know, her services as a model are offered so freely and joyously; -to my life as a man, because I think that she loves me. I pray you, -therefore, although she is beautiful, and although you are young, as she -also is, do not let your thoughts rest upon Catherine; there are enough -other lovely girls in the world. Do not tear my heart, do not insult my -affection by casting bold glances upon my Scozzone; nay, rather watch -over her in my absence, and advise her as if you were her brothers. I -conjure you, observe my wishes herein, for I know myself and my feeling -in this matter, and I swear before God, that if I should discover aught -amiss, I would kill her and her accomplice." - -"Master," said Ascanio, "I respect you as my master, and I love you as -my father; have no fear." - -"Blessed Jesus!" cried Pagolo, clasping his hands, "may God preserve me -from thinking of such an infamous action! Do I not know that I owe -everything to you, and would it not be a crime thus to abuse your sacred -confidence in me, and to repay your benefactions by such dastardly -treachery?" - -"Thanks, my friends," said Benvenuto, pressing their hands. "I have -perfect faith in you, and I am content. Now, Pagolo, return to your -work, for I have promised the seal at which you are working to M. de -Villeroi for to-morrow; while Ascanio and myself pay a visit to the -estate which our gracious king has bestowed upon us, and of which we -will take possession on Sunday next, peaceably or by force." - -Then he turned to Ascanio. - -"Come, Ascanio," said he, "let us go and see if this Nesle habitation, -which seemed to you so eligible in its external aspect, has internal -appointments corresponding to its reputation." - -Before Ascanio had time to offer any observation, Benvenuto, with a -parting glance over the studio to see if every workman was in his place, -and a light tap upon Scozzone's plump, rosy cheek, passed his arm -through his pupil's, drew him toward the door, and went out with him. - - - - -VI - - -TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT - - -They had taken hardly ten steps in the street, when they met a man of -some fifty years, rather short of stature, but with a handsome, mobile -countenance. - -"I was about to call upon you, Benvenuto," said the new arrival, whom -Ascanio saluted with respect, mingled with veneration, and whose hand -Benvenuto cordially grasped. - -"Is your business of importance, my dear Francesco?" said the goldsmith. -"In that case, I will return with you; or was it for no other purpose -than a friendly call? In that case, come with us." - -"It was to proffer you some friendly advice, Benvenuto." - -"I will gladly listen. Advice is always a good thing to receive when it -is proffered by a friend." - -"But that which I have to give you is for no other ear than yours." - -"This youth is another myself, Francesco; say on." - -"I would already have done so, had I thought that I ought to do it," -replied Benvenuto's friend. - -"Pardon, master," said Ascanio, discreetly moving apart. - -"Very well; go alone whither I purposed going with you, dear boy," said -Benvenuto; "as you know, when you have seen a thing it is as if I had -myself seen it. Look most carefully into every detail: see if the studio -will have a good light, if the courtyard will be a convenient place for -a furnace, and if it will be possible to separate our workshop from that -of the other apprentices. Do not forget the tennis-court." - -With that Benvenuto passed his arm through the stranger's, waved his -hand to Ascanio, and returned to the studio, leaving the young man -standing in the middle of Rue Saint-Martin. - -In very truth there was in the commission intrusted to him by his master -more than enough to embarrass Ascanio. His embarrassment was by no means -slight, even when Benvenuto proposed that they should make the visit of -inspection in company. Judge, then, what it became when he found himself -confronted with the prospect of making it all alone. He had watched -Colombe two Sundays without daring to follow her, had followed her on -the third without daring to accost her, and now he was to present -himself at her home; and for what purpose? To examine the Hôtel de -Nesle, which Benvenuto proposed, by way of pastime, to take from -Colombe's father on the following Sunday, willy-nilly. - -It was a false position for anybody; it was terrible for a lover. - -Fortunately it was a long distance from Rue Saint-Martin to the Hôtel -de Nesle. Had it been only a step or two, Ascanio would not have taken -them; but it was a half-league, so he started. - -Nothing so familiarizes one with danger as to be separated from it by -a considerable time or distance. To all strong minds and happy -dispositions, reflection is a powerful auxiliary. Ascanio belonged to -the latter class. In those days it was not fashionable to be disgusted -with life before one had fairly entered upon it. All the impulses were -ingenuous and ingenuously expressed,--joy by laughter, sorrow by tears. -Affectation was a thing almost unknown, in life as in art, and a comely -youth of twenty was in no wise ashamed in those days to confess that he -was happy. - -But in all Ascanio's embarrassment there was a certain amount of joy. He -had not expected to see Colombe again until the following Sunday, and he -was to see her that very day. Thus he had gained six days, and six days -of waiting are, as everybody knows, six centuries according to a lover's -reckoning. - -And so, as he approached his destination, the affair became more simple -in his eyes. He it was, to be sure, who had advised Benvenuto to ask the -king for the Hôtel de Nesle for his studio, but could Colombe take it -ill of him that he had desired to be near her? This installation of the -Florentine goldsmith in the old palace of Amaury could not, it was true, -be carried out without interference with Colombe's father, who looked -upon it as his own; but would any real injury be inflicted upon Messire -Robert d'Estourville when he did not occupy it? Moreover, there were a -thousand ways in which Benvenuto could pay for his occupancy;--a chased -cup for the provost, a necklace for his daughter (and Ascanio would -undertake to make the necklace), might, and undoubtedly would, in that -artistic age, make the rough places smooth. Ascanio had seen grand -dukes, kings, and popes ready to give their coronets, sceptres, or -tiaras as the price of one of the marvellous examples of his master's -art. After all, then, supposing that matters should take that course, -Messire Robert would eventually be in Master Benvenuto's debt; for -Master Benvenuto was so generous that, if Messire Robert showed a -disposition to be courteous and compliant, Ascanio was certain that he, -Master Benvenuto, would deal right royally with him. - -By the time he reached the end of Rue Saint-Martin, Ascanio looked upon -himself as a messenger of peace, chosen by the Lord to maintain -harmonious relations between two powers. - -And yet, notwithstanding that conviction, Ascanio was not sorry--surely -lovers are strange creatures--to lengthen his journey by ten minutes, -and instead of crossing the Seine by boat, he walked the whole length of -the quays, and crossed by the Pont aux Moulins. It may be that he chose -that road because it was the same he had taken the evening before when -following Colombe. - -Whatever his motive for making the detour, he finally found himself in -front of the Hôtel de Nesle in about twenty minutes. - -But when he saw the little ogive door that he must pass through, when he -saw the turrets of the lovely little Gothic palace boldly raising their -heads above the wall, when he thought that behind those jalousies, half -closed because of the heat, was his beautiful Colombe, the whole -card-house of happy dreams which he had built on the road vanished like -the structures one sees in the clouds, and which the wind overturns with -one blow of its wing; he found himself face to face with reality, and -reality did not seem to him the most reassuring thing in the world. - -However, after a few moments of hesitation--hesitation which is the -harder to understand, in that he was absolutely alone upon the quay in -the intense heat--he realized that he must make up his mind to do -something. As there was nothing for him to do but find his way into the -hotel, he walked to the door and raised the knocker. But God only knows -when he would have let it fall, had not the door chanced to open at that -moment, bringing him face to face with a sort of Master Jacques, a man -about thirty years of age, half servant, half peasant. It was Messire -Robert d'Estourville's gardener. - -Ascanio and the gardener mutually recoiled a step. - -"What do you want?" said the gardener; "whom do you seek?" - -Ascanio, thus compelled to go forward with his mission, summoned all his -courage, and replied bravely:-- - -"I desire to inspect the hotel." - -"To inspect the hotel!" cried the gardener in amazement; "in whose -name?" - -"In the king's name!" Ascanio replied. - -"In the king's name!" cried the gardener. "Jesus-Dieu! does the king -intend to take it from us?" - -"Perhaps so!" - -"But what does it mean?" - -"Pray understand, my friend," said Ascanio, with a self-possession upon -which he mentally congratulated himself, "that I have no explanation to -give you." - -"True. With whom do you desire to speak?" - -"Is Monsieur le Prévôt within?" inquired Ascanio, knowing perfectly -well that he was not. - -"No, Monsieur; he is at the Châtelet." - -"Indeed! Who takes his place in his absence?" - -"His daughter is here; Mademoiselle Colombe." - -Ascanio felt that he was blushing to his ears. - -"And there is Dame Perrine, too," the gardener continued. "Does Monsieur -desire to speak with Dame Perrine or with Mademoiselle Colombe?" - -This was a very simple question, surely, and yet it caused a terrible -conflict in Ascanio's mind. He opened his mouth to say that he wished to -see Mademoiselle Colombe, and yet it was as if the audacious words -refused to pass his lips, and he asked for Dame Perrine. The gardener, -who had no suspicion that his question, which seemed so simple to him, -had caused such a disturbance, bowed in token of obedience, and went -across the courtyard toward the door of the Petit-Nesle. Ascanio -followed him. - -He had to cross a second courtyard, pass through a second door, then -cross a small flower garden, ascend a flight of steps, and traverse a -long gallery. At the end of the gallery the gardener opened the door and -said:-- - -"Dame Perrine, here is a young gentleman, who asks to inspect the hotel, -in the king's name." - -With that he stood aside and made room for Ascanio, who took his place -in the doorway. - -As he glanced into the room, a cloud passed before his eyes, and he -leaned against the door frame for support. A very simple, and yet -entirely unforeseen thing had happened; Dame Perrine was with Colombe, -and he found himself in the presence of both. - -Dame Perrine was sitting at the spinning-wheel, spinning. Colombe was at -work at her embroidery frame. They raised their heads at the same -instant and looked toward the door. - -Colombe instantly recognized Ascanio. She expected him, although her -reason told her that he was not likely to come. As for him, when he saw -the maiden's eyes raised to his face, although their expression was -infinitely soft and sweet, it seemed to him that he was dying. - -The fact is, that he had anticipated a thousand difficulties, had -dreamed of a thousand obstacles to be surmounted before he could win his -way to his beloved. Those obstacles would have aroused all his energy -and strengthened his resolution; and lo! everything came about as -naturally and simply as if God, touched by the purity of his passion, -had smiled upon it and blessed it from the first. He found himself in -her presence when he was least expecting it, and of all the beautiful -speech he had prepared, the fervent eloquence of which was to amaze and -move her, he could not recall a phrase, a word, a syllable. - -Colombe, for her part, sat motionless and dumb. The two pure-souled -young creatures, who, as if they had been already joined in wedlock in -heaven, felt that they belonged to one another, and who, when once their -lives had brought them close together, would thenceforth form, like -Salmacis and Hermaphrodite, but one existence, were terrified at their -first meeting, trembled, hesitated, and stood face to face unable to -find words. - -Dame Perrine, half rising from her chair, and preparing to put aside her -spinning, was the first to break the silence. - -"What did that blockhead Raimbault say?" cried the worthy duenna. "Did -you hear, Colombe?" As Colombe did not reply, she continued, walking -toward Ascanio: "What is your pleasure here, my young master? Why, God -forgive me!" she suddenly exclaimed, as she recognized the visitor, -"it's the gallant youth who so politely handed me the holy water at the -church door these last three Sundays! What is your pleasure, my handsome -friend?" - -"I would be glad to speak with you," faltered Ascanio. - -"With me alone?" queried Dame Perrine coquettishly. - -"With you--alone--" - -As he made this reply Ascanio told himself that he was a consummate ass. - -"Come this way, then, young man," said Dame Perrine, opening a door at -the side of the room, and signing to Ascanio to follow her. - -Ascanio did as she bade him, but as he left the room he cast upon -Colombe one of those long, eloquent glances wherein lovers can say so -much, and which, however unintelligible they may be to indifferent -observers, are always understood at last by the person to whom they are -addressed. Colombe undoubtedly lost no portion of its meaning, for her -eyes, how she knew not, having met the youth's, she blushed -prodigiously, and when she felt that she was blushing, she cast her eyes -down upon her embroidery, and began to mangle a poor inoffensive flower. -Ascanio saw the blush, and, stopping abruptly, stepped toward Colombe; -but at that moment Dame Perrine turned and called him, and he was -compelled to follow her. - -He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the door than Colombe dropped -her needle, let her arms fall beside her chair, threw back her head, and -breathed a long sigh, in which were mingled, by one of those -inexplicable miracles which the heart alone can perform, regret at -Ascanio's departure, and a sort of relief to feel that he was no longer -there. - -The young man was very perceptibly in a bad humor; with Benvenuto, who -had given him such a strange commission to fulfil; with himself, for his -inability to take advantage of his opportunity; but most of all with -Dame Perrine, who was cruel enough to make him leave the room just when -Colombe's eyes seemed to bid him remain. - -So it was that, when the duenna inquired as to the purpose of his visit, -Ascanio replied in a most deliberate manner, determined to be revenged -upon her for his own bungling:-- - -"The purpose of my visit, my dear Madame, is to beg you to show me the -Hôtel de Nesle from one end to the other." - -"Show you the Hôtel de Nesle!" cried Dame Perrine; "why, in Heaven's -name, do you desire to see it?" - -"To see if it will be convenient for us, if we shall be comfortable -here, and if it is worth while for us to leave our present quarters to -come and live here." - -"What! come and live here! Pray have you hired the hotel of Monsieur le -Prévôt?" - -"No, but his Majesty gives it to us." - -"His Majesty gives it to you!" exclaimed Dame Perrine, more and more -amazed. - -"Absolutely," replied Ascanio. - -"To you?" - -"Not precisely, my good woman, but to my master." - -"And who is your master, if I may ask, young man? Some great foreign -nobleman, no doubt?" - -"Better than that, Dame Perrine,--a great artist, come hither from -Florence, expressly to serve his Most Christian Majesty." - -"Aha!" said the good woman, who did not understand very well; "what does -your master make?" - -"What does he make? Why, he makes everything: rings to put on maidens' -fingers; ewers to put upon kings' tables; statues to place in the -temples of the gods; and in his leisure moments he besieges or defends -cities, as his caprice leads him to cause an emperor to tremble, or to -reassure a pope." - -"Jésus Dieu!" cried Dame Perrine: "what is your master's name?" - -"His name is Benvenuto Cellini." - -"It's strange that I don't know that name," muttered the duenna; "what -is his profession?" - -"He is a goldsmith." - -Dame Perrine gazed wonderingly at Ascanio. - -"A goldsmith!" she muttered, "a goldsmith! And do you fancy that -Monsieur le Prévôt will give up his palace like this to a--goldsmith?" - -"If he doesn't give it up, we will take it." - -"By force?" - -"Even so." - -"But your master will hardly dare to contend against Monsieur le -Prévôt, I trust." - -"He has contended against three dukes and two popes." - -"Jésus Dieu! Two popes! He's not a heretic surely?" - -"He is as good a Catholic as you and I, Dame Perrine: have no fear on -that score; Satan is in no wise our ally. But in default of the devil, -we have the king on our side." - -"So! but Monsieur le Prévôt has a more powerful protector than the -king." - -"Whom has he, pray?" - -"Madame d'Etampes." - -"Then we are on equal terms," said Ascanio. - -"But suppose Messire d'Estourville refuses?" - -"Master Benvenuto will take." - -"And suppose Messire d'Estourville shuts himself up here as in a -citadel?" - -"Master Cellini will lay siege to it." - -"Consider that the provost has twenty-four sergeants-at-arms." - -"Master Benvenuto Cellini has ten apprentices: still we are on equal -terms, you see, Dame Perrine." - -"But Messire d'Estourville is personally a sturdy fighter. At the -tournament which took place at the time of the marriage of François I., -he was one of the challengers, and all those who dared measure swords -with him were unhorsed." - -"Ah well! Dame Perrine, then he is just the man for Benvenuto, who has -never met his match, and who, like Messire d'Estourville, always -unhorses his adversaries. But there is this difference between them: a -fortnight afterward, they who have encountered your provost are on their -legs again in good health and spirits, while they who have my master to -deal with never raise their heads again, and three days after are dead -and buried." - -"Evil will come of this! evil will come of this!" muttered Dame Perrine. -"Young man, they say that fearful things are done in cities taken by -assault." - -"Have no fear on that head, Dame Perrine," rejoined Ascanio with a -smile. "You will have to do with generous conquerors." - -"What I mean, my dear child," said Dame Perrine, who was not sorry -perhaps, to secure a friend among the besiegers, "is that I fear there -may be bloodshed; for, so far as your proximity to us is concerned, you -will understand that it cannot fail to be very agreeable to us, since -society is somewhat scanty in this accursed desert to which Messire -d'Estourville has consigned his daughter and myself, like two wretched -nuns, although neither she nor I have taken the vows, thank God! It isn't -good for man to be alone, so saith Holy Writ, and when Holy Writ -mentions man, woman is included. Is not that your opinion, young man?" - -"That goes without saying." - -"And we are entirely alone, and therefore very doleful in this vast -habitation." - -"Why, do you receive no visitors here?" Ascanio asked. - -"Jésus Dieu! it's worse than if we were nuns, as I told you. Nuns have -parents at least, and friends who come and talk to them through the -grating. They have the refectory where they can assemble and talk -together. It's not very diverting, I know, but it's something -nevertheless. But we have only Messire le Prévôt, who comes from time -to time to lecture his daughter for growing too lovely, I think,--it's -her only crime, poor child,--and to scold me because I don't watch her -closely enough,--God save the mark! when she doesn't see a living soul -in the world except myself, and, aside from what she says to me, doesn't -open her mouth except to pray. I beg you, therefore, young man, not -to say to any one that you have been admitted here, that you have -inspected the Grand-Nesle under my guidance, or that you talked with us -for an instant at the Petit-Nesle." - -"What!" cried Ascanio, "after our visit to the Grand-Nesle, I am to -return with you to the Petit? In that case I shall--" He checked -himself, realizing that his joy was carrying him too far. - -"I think it would not be courteous, young man, after presenting -yourself, as you did, to Mademoiselle Colombe, who is the mistress of -the house in her father's absence, and after asking to speak with me -alone,--I do not think it would be courteous, I say, to leave the Hôtel -de Nesle without taking leave of her. But if you prefer not to do so, -you are quite at liberty, as you know, to go into the street directly -from the Grand-Nesle, which has its own exit." - -"No, no, no indeed!" cried Ascanio, eagerly. "Peste! I flatter myself, -Dame Perrine, that I have been as well brought up as anybody on earth, -and that I know what good breeding requires in one's treatment of -ladies. But, let us do what we have to do, Dame Perrine, without a -moment's delay, for I am in very great haste." - -Indeed, now that Ascanio knew that he was to return by way of the -Petit-Nesle he was in a great hurry to be done with the Grand. And as -Dame Perrine was terribly afraid of being surprised by the provost when -she least expected it, she had no inclination to delay Ascanio! so she -took down a bunch of keys from behind a door, and walked on before him. - -Let us, in company with Ascanio, east a hasty glance at this Hôtel de -Nesle, where the principal scenes of our narrative will be laid. - -The Hôtel, or rather the Séjour de Nesle, as it was more commonly -called at that time, occupied, as our readers already know, the site on -the left bank of the Seine, on which the Hôtel de Nevers was -subsequently built, to be in its turn succeeded by the Mint and the -Institute. It was the last building in Paris toward the southwest, and -beyond its walls nothing could be seen save the city moat, and the -verdant lawns of the Pré-aux-Clercs. It was built by Amaury, Lord of -Nesle in Picardie, toward the close of the eighth century. Philippe le -Bel bought it in 1308 and made it his royal residence. In 1520 the Tour -de Nesle, of bloody and licentious memory, was separated from it, when -the quay, the bridge over the moat, and the Porte de Nesle were -constructed, and thenceforth the grim tower stood alone upon the river -bank, like a sinner doing penance. - -But the Séjour de Nesle luckily was so vast that the lopping off of -part of it was not noticed. It was as large as a small village; a high -wall, pierced by a broad ogive door and a smaller servants' door, -protected it on the side of the quay. On entering you found yourself at -first in an immense courtyard surrounded by walls; there was a door in -the wall at the left, and one at the back. Passing through the door at -the left, as Ascanio did, you came to a charming little building in the -Gothic style of the fourteenth century; it was the Petit-Nesle, which -had its own separate garden. If, on the other hand, you passed through -the door in the rear wall, you saw at your right the Grand-Nesle,--all -of stone, and flanked by two turrets,--with its high peaked roofs, -surrounded by balustrades, its angular façade, its high windows with -glass of many colors, and its twenty weather-vanes crying in the wind; -there was room enough to provide accommodation for three bankers of -to-day. - -If you went on, you lost yourself in all sorts of gardens, and you found -among them a tennis-court, a bowling-green, a foundry, and an arsenal; -and still farther on the stable-yards, stables, cattle-sheds, and -sheepfolds; there was accommodation for the establishments of three -farmers of to-day. - -The whole property, it should be said, was sadly neglected, and -consequently in very bad condition, for Raimbault and his two assistants -hardly sufficed to take proper care of the garden belonging to the -Petit-Nesle, where Colombe raised flowers, and Dame Perrine vegetables. -But the whole was of vast extent, well lighted, and substantially built, -and with a slight outlay of trouble and money, it could be made the -finest workshop in the world. - -Even if the place had been infinitely less suitable, Ascanio would have -been none the less enchanted with it, as his principal desire was to be -brought near to Colombe. - -His visit to the larger building was made very short: in less time than -it takes to write it, the active youth saw everything that there was to -see, and formed an opinion upon everything that he saw. Dame Perrine, -finding it impossible to keep pace with him, good-naturedly handed him -the keys, which he faithfully restored to her when his investigation was -at an end. - -"Now, Dame Perrine," said he, "I am at your service." - -"Very good: let us return for a moment to the Petit-Nesle, as you agree -with me that it is the proper thing to do." - -"I should say as much! It would be extremely discourteous to do -otherwise." - -"But not a word to Colombe of the object of your visit." - -"Mon Dieu! what shall I say to her, then?" cried Ascanio. - -"You're easily embarrassed, my handsome lad. Did you not tell me that -you are a goldsmith?" - -"Indeed, yes." - -"Very well, talk to her about jewels; that is a subject that always -gladdens the heart of the most virtuous maiden. She is or is not a true -daughter of Eve, and if she is a true daughter of Eve she loves anything -that glitters. Besides, she has so little diversion in her solitude, -poor child! that it would be a blessing to entertain her a little. To be -sure, the most suitable entertainment for a girl of her age would be a -good marriage; and Master Robert never comes hither that I do not -whisper in his ear, 'Find a husband for the poor dear; pray find a -husband for her.'" - -Without stopping to consider what conjectures as to the relations -between herself and the provost might be set on foot by this declaration -of her familiar manner of addressing him, Dame Perrine led the way back -to the Petit-Nesle and to the room where they had left Colombe. - -Colombe was still absorbed in thought, and in the same attitude in which -we left her. But no one knows how many times she had raised her head and -fixed her eyes upon the door through which the comely youth had gone -from her sight; any one who had observed these oft-repeated glances -might have thought that she was expecting him. But as she saw the door -turning upon its hinges, Colombe went about her work once more so -earnestly that neither Dame Perrine nor Ascanio could suspect that it -had been interrupted. - -How she had divined that the young man was following the duenna is -something that might have been explained by magnetism, if magnetism had -then been invented. - -"I bring back with me our donor of holy water, my dear Colombe, for he -it is, as I thought. I was about to show him out by the door of the -Grand-Nesle, when he reminded me that he had not taken leave of you. It -was true enough, for you didn't say one little word to each other -before. However, neither of you is dumb, God be praised!" - -"Dame Perrine--" faltered Colombe, greatly embarrassed. - -"Well! what is it? You must not blush like that. Monsieur Ascanio is an -honorable young man, as you are a virtuous young woman. Furthermore, it -seems that he is an artist in jewels, precious stones, and such gewgaws -as suit the fancy of most pretty girls. He will come and show them to -you, my child, if you wish." - -"I need nothing," murmured Colombe. - -"Possibly not at this moment; but it is to be hoped that you will not -die a recluse in this accursed solitude. We are but sixteen years old, -Colombe, and the day will come when we shall be a lovely _fiancée_, to -whom all sorts of jewels will be presented, and after that a great lady, -who must have all sorts of finery. When that time comes, it will be as -well to give the preference to this youth's as to those of some other -artist, who surely will not be comparable to him." - -Colombe was on the rack. Ascanio, to whom Dame Perrine's forecasts of -the future were but moderately pleasing, noticed her suffering, and came -to the rescue of the poor child, to whom direct conversation was a -thousand times less embarrassing than this monologue by a -self-constituted interpreter. - -"Oh! mademoiselle," said he, "do not deny me the great privilege of -bringing some of my handiwork to you; it seems to me now as if I made -them for you, and as if when making them I was thinking of you. Oh! -believe it, I pray you, for we artists in jewels sometimes mingle our -own thoughts with the gold and silver and precious stones. In the -diadems with which your heads are crowned, the bracelets which encircle -your white arms, the necklaces which rest so lovingly upon your -shoulders, in the flowers, the birds, the angels, the chimeras, which we -make to tremble at your ears, we sometimes embody our respectful -adoration." - -It is our duty as an historian to state that at these soft words -Colombe's heart dilated, for Ascanio, mute so long, was speaking at -last, and speaking as she had dreamed that he would speak; for without -raising her eyes the girl could feel his burning glance fixed upon her, -and there was nothing, even to the unfamiliar tone of his voice, which -did not impart a singular charm to these words which sounded so -strangely in Colombe's ears, and a profound and irresistible meaning to -the flowing, harmonious language of love, which maidens understand -before they can speak it. - -"I know," Ascanio continued, with his eyes still fixed upon Colombe, "I -know that we can add nothing to your beauty. God is made none the richer -by decking out his altar. But we can at least surround your graceful -form with those things which are attractive and beautiful like itself; -and when we poor, humble artificers of splendor and enchantment from the -depths of our obscurity see you pass by in a blaze of glory, we console -ourselves for being so far below you by the thought that our art has -helped to raise you to the height whereon you stand." - -"O Monsieur!" replied Colombe, covered with confusion, "your lovely -things will probably be always unfamiliar to me, or at least useless. I -live in solitude and obscurity, and so far is it from being the case -that the solitude and obscurity are oppressive to me, that I confess -that I love them, I confess that I would like to live here always, and -yet I also confess that I would like well to see your jewels, not for -myself but for them,--not to wear them, but to admire them." - -Trembling with fear lest she had said too much, and perhaps with a -longing to say even more, Colombe bowed and left the room so swiftly, -that to the eyes of a man more knowing in such matters her exit would -have worn the aspect of a flight. - -"Well, well!" exclaimed Dame Perrine; "that's not a long way from -something like coquetry. There is no doubt, young man, that you talk -like a book. Yes, yes, one can but believe that you Italians have secret -means of fascinating people. No stronger proof is needed than -this,--that you have enlisted me on your side at once, and 'pon honor, I -find myself wishing that Messire le Prévôt will not deal too hardly -with you. _Au revoir_, young man, and bid your master be on his guard. -Warn him that Messire d'Estourville is as hard of heart as the devil, -and wields great influence at court. For which reason, if your master -will take my advice, he will abandon all thought of living at the -Grand-Nesle, and especially of taking forcible possession of it. As for -you--but we shall see you again, shall we not? Above all, do not believe -Colombe; the property of her deceased mother is sufficient to enable her -to indulge in baubles twenty times more costly than those you offer her. -And look you, bring also some less elaborate articles; it may occur to -her to make me a little present. I am not yet, thank God! so old that I -need decline a little flirtation. You understand, do you not?" - -Deeming it necessary, the better to make her meaning clear, to enforce -her words with a gesture, she laid her hand upon the young man's arm. -Ascanio jumped like one suddenly awakened from a sound sleep. Indeed, it -seemed to him as if it were all a dream. He could not realize that he -was under Colombe's roof, and he doubted whether the white apparition -whose melodious voice was still whispering in his ear, whose slender -form had just vanished from his sight, was really she for one glance -from whose eyes he would have given his life that morning. - -Overflowing with his present happiness and his future prospects, he -promised Dame Perrine whatever she wished, without even listening to -what she asked him to do. What mattered it to him? Was he not ready to -give all that he possessed to see Colombe once more? - -Thinking that to prolong his visit would be unbecoming, he took leave of -Dame Perrine, promising to return the next day. - -As he left the Petit-Nesle, Ascanio almost collided with two men who -were about to enter. By the way in which one of them stared at him, even -more than by his costume, he felt sure that it was the provost. - -His suspicion was changed to certainty when he saw them knock at the -same door by which he had just come out, and he regretted that he had -not sooner taken his leave; for who could say that his imprudence would -not be visited upon Colombe? - -To negative the idea that his visit was of any importance, assuming that -the provost noticed it, Ascanio walked away without once turning to look -back toward the only corner of the world of which he would at that -moment have cared to be king. - -When he returned to the studio, he found Benvenuto absorbed in thought. -The man who stopped them in the street was Primaticcio, and he was on -his way, like the honorable confrère he was, to inform Cellini that, -during the visit François I. paid him that morning, the imprudent -artist had succeeded in making a mortal enemy of Madame la Duchesse -d'Etampes. - - - - -VII - - -A LOVER AND A FRIEND - - -One of the two men who entered the Hôtel de Nesle as Ascanio emerged -therefrom was indeed Messire Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris. Who -the other was we shall learn in a moment. - -Five minutes after Ascanio's departure, while Colombe was still -listening and dreaming in her bedroom, whither she had fled, Dame -Perrine hurriedly entered, and informed the young woman that her father -was awaiting her in the adjoining room. - -"My father!" cried Colombe in alarm. "Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" she added in -an undertone, "can it be that he met him?" - -"Yes, your father, my dear child," rejoined Dame Perrine, replying to -the only portion of the sentence that she heard, "and with him another -old man whom I do not know." - -"Another old man!" exclaimed Colombe, shuddering instinctively. "Mon -Dieu! Dame Perrine, what does it mean? It is the first time in two or -three years that my father has not come hither alone." - -However, notwithstanding her alarm she could but obey, knowing as she -did her father's impatient disposition, so she summoned all her courage -and returned to the room she had just left with a smile upon her lips. -Despite this feeling of dread, which she experienced for the first time -and could not explain, she loved Messire d'Estourville as a daughter -should love her father, and although his demeanor toward her was far -from expansive, the days on which he visited the Hôtel de Nesle were -marked as red-letter days among the uniformly gloomy days of her life. - -Colombe went forward with outstretched arms and her mouth half open, but -the provost gave her no time either to embrace him or to speak. He took -her hand, and led her to the stranger, who was leaning against the -flower-laden mantel. - -"My dear friend," he said, "I present my daughter to you. Colombe," he -added, "this is Comte d'Orbec, the king's treasurer and your future -husband." - -Colombe uttered a feeble exclamation, which she at once stifled, out of -regard for the requirements of courtesy; but feeling her knees giving -way beneath her, she leaned against the back of a chair for support. - -Fully to understand the horror of this unexpected presentation, -especially in Colombe's then frame of mind, it is necessary to know what -manner of man this Comte d'Orbec was. - -Messire Robert d'Estourville, Colombe's father, was certainly far from -handsome; there was in his bushy eyebrows, which he drew together at the -least obstacle, physical or moral, that he encountered, a savage -expression, and in his whole thickset figure something heavy and -awkward, which caused one to feel but slightly prepossessed in his -favor; but beside Comte d'Orbec he seemed like Saint Michael the -Archangel beside the dragon. The square head and the strongly -accentuated features of the provost did at least indicate resolution and -force of character, while his small, piercing gray lynx eyes denoted -intelligence; but Comte d'Orbec, lean and withered, with his long arms -like spider's claws his mosquito-like voice and his snail-like -movements, was not only ugly, he was absolutely hideous;--it was the -ugliness of the beast and the villain in one. His head was carried on -one side, and his face wore a villanous smile and a treacherous -expression. - -So it was that Colombe, at the sight of this revolting creature, who was -presented to her as her future husband when her heart and her thoughts -and her eyes were still filled with the comely youth who had just gone -from that very room, could not, as we have seen, wholly repress an -exclamation of dismay; but her strength failed her, and she stood there -pale and speechless, gazing terror-stricken into her father's face. - -"I beseech you to pardon Colombe's confusion, dear friend," the provost -continued; "in the first place, she is a little barbarian, who has not -been away from here these two years past, the air of the time being not -over healthy, as you know, for attractive maids; secondly, I have made -the mistake of not informing her of our plans, which would have been -time lost, however, since what I have determined upon needs no person's -approval before being put in execution; and lastly, she knows not who -you are, and that with your name, your great wealth, and the favor of -Madame d'Etampes, you are in a position where everything is possible; -but upon reflection she will appreciate the honor you confer upon us in -consenting to ally your ancient blood with our nobility of more recent -date; she will learn that friends of forty years' standing--" - -"Enough, my dear fellow, enough, in God's name!" interposed the count. -"Come, come, my child," he added, addressing Colombe with familiar and -insolent assurance, which formed a striking contrast to poor Ascanio's -timidity,--"come, compose yourself and call back to your cheeks a little -of the lovely coloring that so becomes you. Mon Dieu! I know what a -young girl is, you know, and a young woman too for that matter, for I -have already been married twice, my dear. Good lack! you must not be -disturbed like this: I don't frighten you, I hope, eh?" added the count -fatuously, passing his fingers through his scanty moustache and -imperial. "Your father did wrong to give me the title of husband so -suddenly, which always agitates a youthful heart a little when it hears -it for the first time; but you will come to it, little one, and will end -by saying it yourself with that sweet little mouth of yours. Well! -well! you are growing paler and paler,--God forgive me! I believe she is -fainting." - -As he spoke D'Orbec put out his arms to support her, but she stood -erect, and stepped back as if she feared his touch no less than a -serpent's, finding strength to utter a few words:-- - -"Pardon, monsieur, pardon, father," she faltered; "forgive me, it is -nothing; but I thought, I hoped--" - -"What did you think, what did you hope? Come, tell us quickly!" rejoined -the provost, fixing his sharp eyes, snapping angrily, upon his daughter. - -"That you would allow me to stay with you always, father," replied -Colombe. "Since my poor mother's death, you have no one else to love you -and care for you, and I had thought--" - -"Hold your peace, Colombe," retorted the provost imperatively. "I am not -old enough as yet to need a keeper, and you have arrived at the proper -age to have an establishment of your own. - -"Bon Dieu!" interposed D'Orbec, joining once more in the conversation, -"accept me without so much ado, my love. With me you will be as happy as -one can be, and more than one will envy you, I swear. Mordieu! I am -rich, and I propose, that you shall be a credit to me; you shall go to -court, and shall wear jewels that will arouse the envy, I will not say -of the queen, but of Madame d'Etampes herself." - -I know not what thoughts these last words awoke in Colombe's heart, but -the color returned to her cheeks, and she made hold to answer the count, -despite her father's harsh and threatening glance:-- - -"I will ask my father, monseigneur, at least to give me time to reflect -upon your proposal." - -"What's that?" cried Messire d'Estourville violently. "Not an hour, not -a minute. You are from this moment the count's betrothed, understand -that, and you would be his wife this evening were it not that he is -obliged to pay a visit to his estates in Normandie, and you know that my -wishes are commands. Reflect indeed! Sarpejeu! D'Orbec, let us leave her -ladyship. From this moment, my friend, she is yours, and you may claim -her when you will. And now let us go and inspect your future abode." - -D'Orbec would have been glad to tarry and add a word to what he had -already said, but the provost passed his arm through his, and led him -away grumbling; he contented himself therefore with saluting Colombe -with his wicked smile, and went out with Messire Robert. - -Behind them Dame Perrine entered through another door; she had heard the -provost speaking in a loud voice, and guessed that he was as usual -scolding his daughter. She arrived in time to receive Colombe in her -arms. - -"O mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" sobbed the poor child, putting her hand over her -eyes as if to avoid the sight of the odious D'Orbec, absent though he -was. "O mon Dieu! is this to be the end? O my golden dreams! O my poor -hopes! All is lost, and naught remains for me but to die!" - -We need not ask if this lament, added to Colombe's weakness and pallor, -terrified Dame Perrine, and at the same time aroused her curiosity. As -Colombe sadly needed to relieve her overburdened heart, she described to -her worthy governess, weeping the while the bitterest tears she had ever -shed, the interview between her father, Comte d'Orbec, and herself. Dame -Perrine agreed that the suitor was not young or handsome, but as the -worst misfortune, in her opinion, that could happen to a woman was to -remain single, she insisted that it was better, when all was said, to -have an old and ugly, but wealthy and influential husband, than none at -all. But this doctrine was so offensive to Colombe's heart, that she -withdrew to her own room, leaving Dame Perrine, whose imagination was -most active, to build innumerable castles in the air in anticipation of -the day when she should rise from the rank of Mademoiselle Colombe's -governess to that of Comtesse d'Orbec's _dame de compagnie_. - -Meanwhile the provost and the count were beginning their tour of -inspection of the Grand-Nesle, as Dame Perrine and Ascanio had done an -hour earlier. - -Curious results would follow if walls, which are commonly supposed to -have ears, had also eyes and a tongue, and could repeat to those who -enter what they have seen and heard on the part of those who have gone -before. - -But as the walls held their peace, and simply looked at the provost and -the treasurer, laughing perhaps, after the manner of walls, it was the -treasurer who spoke. - -"On my word," he said, as they crossed the courtyard leading from the -Petit to the Grand-Nesle, "on my word, the little one will do very well; -she is just such a woman as I need, my dear D'Estourville, virtuous, -well-bred, and ignorant. When the first storm has passed over, time will -straighten out everything, believe me. I know how it is; every little -girl dreams of a young, handsome, clever, and wealthy husband. Mon Dieu! -I have at least half of the requisite qualities. Few men can say as -much, so that's a great point in my favor." Passing from his future wife -to the property he was to occupy, and speaking with the same shrill, -greedy accent of the one as of the other, "This old Nesle," he -continued, "is a magnificent habitation, on my honor! and I congratulate -you upon it. We shall be marvellously comfortable here, my wife and I, -and my whole treasury. Here we will have our own apartments, there will -be my offices, and over yonder the servants' quarters. The place as a -whole has been allowed to run to seed. But with the expenditure of a -little money, which we will find a way to make his Majesty pay, we will -give a good account of ourselves. By the way, D'Estourville, are you -perfectly sure of retaining the property? You should take steps to -perfect your title to it; so far as I now remember, the king did not -give it you, after all." - -"He did not give it me, true," replied the provost with a laugh, "but he -let me take it, which is much the same thing." - -"Very good; but suppose that some other should play you the trick of -making a formal request for it from him." - -"Ah! such a one would be very ill received, I promise you, when he -should come to take possession, and, being sure as I am of Madame -d'Etampes's support and yours, I would make him sorely repent his -pretensions. No, no, my dear fellow, my mind is at ease, and the Hôtel -de Nesle belongs to me as truly as my daughter Colombe belongs to you; -go, therefore, without fear on that score, and return quickly." - -As the provost uttered these words, the truth of which neither he nor -his interlocutor had any reason to doubt, a third personage, escorted by -Raimbault the gardener, appeared upon the threshold of the door leading -from the quadrangular courtyard into the gardens of the Petit-Nesle. It -was the Vicomte de Marmagne. - -He also was a suitor for Colombe's hand, but by no means a favored one. -He was a fair-haired scamp, with a pink face, consequential, insolent, -garrulous, forever boasting of his relations with women, who often used -him as a cloak for their serious amours, overflowing with pride in his -post of secretary to the king, which permitted him to approach his -Majesty in the same way in which his greyhounds and parrots and monkeys -approached him. The provost, therefore, was not deceived by his apparent -favor and the superficial familiarity of his relations with his Majesty, -which favor and familiarity he owed, so it was said, to his decidedly -unmoral additions to the duties of his post. Furthermore, the Vicomte de -Marmagne had long since devoured all his patrimony, and had no other -fortune than the liberality of François. How it might happen any day -that this liberal disposition would cease, so far as he was concerned, -and Messire Robert d'Estourville was not fool enough to rely, in matters -of such importance, upon the caprice of a very capricious monarch. He -had therefore gently denied the suit of the Vicomte de Marmagne, -admitting to him confidentially and under the seal of secrecy that his -daughter's hand had long been promised to another. Thanks to this -confidential communication, which supplied a motive for the provost's -refusal, the Vicomte de Marmagne and Messire Robert d'Estourville had -continued to be in appearance the best friends in the world, although -from that day the viscount detested the provost, and the provost was -suspicious of the viscount, who could not succeed in concealing his -rancor beneath an affable and smiling exterior from a man so accustomed -as Messire Robert to peer into the dark corners of courts, and the -deepest depths of men's hearts. So it was that, whenever the viscount -made his appearance, the provost expected to find in him, -notwithstanding his invariably affable and engaging demeanor, a bearer -of bad news, which he would always impart with tears in his eyes, and -with the feigned, premeditated grief which squeezes out poison upon a -wound, drop by drop. - -As for Comte d'Orbec, the Vicomte de Marmagne had wellnigh come to an -open rupture with him; it was one of the rare instances of court -enmities visible to the naked eye. D'Orbec despised Marmagne, because -Marmagne had no fortune and could make no display. Marmagne despised -D'Orbec, because D'Orbec was old and had consequently lost the power of -making himself agreeable to women; in fine, they mutually detested each -other, because, whenever they met upon the same path, one of them had -taken something from the other. - -So it was that when they met on this occasion the two courtiers greeted -each other with that cold, sardonic smile which is never seen save in -palace antechambers, and which means, "Ah! if we weren't a pair of -cowards, how long ago one of us would have ceased to live!" - -Nevertheless, as it is the historian's duty to set down everything, good -and bad alike, it is proper to state that they confined themselves to -this salutation and this smile, and that Comte d'Orbec, escorted by the -provost, and without exchanging a word with Marmagne, left the house -immediately by the same door by which his enemy entered. - -Let us hasten to add, that, notwithstanding the hatred which kept them -asunder, these two men were ready, in case of need, to unite temporarily -to destroy a third. - -Comte d'Orbec having taken his leave, the provost found himself -_tête-à-tête_ with the Vicomte de Marmagne. He walked toward him with -a joyous countenance, in striking contrast to the melancholy visage with -which the other awaited him. - -"Well, my dear provost," said Marmagne, to open the conversation, "you -seem in extremely good spirits." - -"While you, my dear Marmagne," rejoined the provost, "seem sadly -depressed." - -"Simply because, as you know, my poor D'Estourville, my friends' -misfortunes afflict me as keenly as my own." - -"Yes, yes, I know your heart," said the provost. - -"And when I saw you in such a joyous mood, with your future son-in-law, -Comte d'Orbec,--for your daughter's betrothal to him is no longer a -secret, and I congratulate you upon it, my dear D'Estourville--" - -"You know that I told you long ago that Colombe's hand was promised, my -dear Marmagne." - -"Yes, but, 'pon honor, I cannot understand how you can consent to part -from such a fascinating child." - -"Oh! I do not propose to part from her," replied Messire Robert. "My -son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec, will bring his whole establishment across the -Seine, and will take up his abode at the Grand-Nesle, while I shall -spend my unoccupied moments at the Petit." - -"My poor friend!" exclaimed Marmagne, shaking his head with an air of -profound sadness, and placing one hand upon the provost's arm while with -the other he wiped away a tear which did not exist. - -"Why 'poor friend'?" demanded Messire Robert. "Come! what have you to -tell me now?" - -"Am I the first, pray, to tell you the unpleasant news?" - -"What is it? Speak out!" - -"You know, my dear provost, that we must take things philosophically in -this world, and there is an old proverb which we poor weak mortals -should keep constantly in mind, for it sums up the accumulated wisdom of -all nations." - -"What is the proverb? Say what you have to say." - -"Man proposes, my dear friend, man proposes, and God disposes." - -"In God's name, what have I proposed for him to dispose of? Say on, I -beg you, and let us have done with it." - -"You have intended the Grand-Nesle for the residence of your daughter -and son-in-law?" - -"Most assuredly; and I trust that they will be installed there within -three months." - -"Undeceive yourself, my dear provost, undeceive yourself; the Hôtel de -Nesle is no longer your property at this moment. Pardon me for -afflicting you thus, but I thought, knowing your somewhat hasty nature, -that it would be better for you to learn the news from the mouth of a -friend, who would spare your feelings in the telling as much as -possible, rather than from some malicious fellow, who would take a keen -delight in your misfortune, and brutally east it in your faee, Alas! no, -my friend, the Grand-Nesle is yours no longer." - -"Who has taken it from me, I pray to know?" - -"His Majesty." - -"His Majesty!" - -"Himself, so you see that the disaster is irreparable." - -"When was it done?" - -"This morning. If I had not been detained by my duties at the Louvre, -you would have been sooner apprised of it." - -"You are mistaken, Marmagne; it's some false report set afloat by my -enemies, and which you are in too great haste to repeat." - -"I would be glad for many reasons if it were so, but unfortunately I was -not told of it; I heard it." - -"You heard it? what?" - -"I heard the king with his own month present the Grand-Nesle to -another." - -"Who is this other?" - -"An Italian adventurer, a paltry goldsmith, whose name you perhaps have -heard; an intriguing rascal named Benvenuto Cellini, who came from -Florence some two months since, whom the king has taken upon his -shoulders for some unknown reason, and to whom he paid a visit to-day -with his whole court at the Cardinal of Ferrara's hotel, where this -pretended artist has established his studio." - -"And you say that you were present, viscount, when the king presented -the Grand-Nesle to this wretch?" - -"I was," replied Marmagne, pronouncing the words very slowly and -distinctly, and dwelling upon them with evident relish. - -"Oho!" said the provost, "very good! I am ready for your adventurer: let -him come and take possession of his royal gift." - -"Do you mean that you would offer resistance?" - -"To be sure!" - -"To an order of the king?" - -"To an order of God or the devil,--to any order, in short, which should -undertake to eject me from this place." - -"Softly, provost, softly," said Marmagne, "over and above the king's -wrath, to which you expose yourself, this Benvenuto Cellini is in -himself more to be feared than you think." - -"Do you know who I am, viscount?" - -"First of all, he stands very high in his Majesty's good graces,--only -for the moment, to be sure,--but it is none the less true." - -"Do you know that I, the Provost of Paris, represent his Majesty at the -Châtelet, that I sit there beneath a canopy, in a short coat and a -cloak with a collar, with my sword at my side, a hat with waving plumes -on my head, and in my hand a staff covered with blue velvet?" - -"Secondly, I will tell you that this accursed Italian makes no scruple -of offering combat, as if he stood on equal terms with them, to princes, -cardinals, and popes." - -"Do you know that I have a private seal which imparts the fullest -authority to those documents to which it is affixed?" - -"It is said, furthermore, that the damned bully wounds or kills -recklessly every one who ventures to oppose him." - -"Do you not know that a bodyguard of twenty-four men-at-arms is at my -orders night and day?" - -"They say that he attacked a goldsmith against whom he had a grudge, -although he was surrounded by a guard of sixty men." - -"You forget that the Hôtel de Nesle is fortified, that the walls are -crenellated, and there are machicoulis above the doors, to say nothing -of the city fortifications which render it impregnable on one side." - -"It is said that he is as thoroughly at home in the science of sieges as -Bayard or Antonio de Leyra." - -"As to that we shall see." - -"I am sorely afraid." - -"I will bide my time." - -"Look you, my dear friend, will you allow me to offer you a little -advice?" - -"Say on, so that it be brief." - -"Do not try to struggle with one who is stronger than you." - -"Stronger than I, a paltry Italian mechanic! Viscount, you exasperate -me!" - -"You may find reason to repent, 'pon honor! I speak whereof I know." - -"Viscount, you try my temper." - -"Consider that the fellow has the king on his side." - -"And I have Madame d'Etampes." - -"His Majesty may take it ill of you to resist his will." - -"I have already done it, Monsieur, and successfully." - -"Yes, I know, in the matter of the toll at the bridge of Mantes. But--" - -"But what?" - -"One risks nothing, or very little at all events, in resisting a weak, -good-natured king, while one risks everything in entering into a contest -with a powerful, formidable opponent like Benvenuto Cellini." - -"By Mahomet's belly, Viscount, do you propose to drive me mad?" - -"On the contrary, my purpose is to make you discreet." - -"Enough, Viscount, enough! Ah! the villain shall pay dear, I swear, for -these moments that your friendship has caused me to pass." - -"God grant it, Provost! God grant it!" - -"Very good, very good! You have nothing else to tell me?" - -"No, no, I believe not," the viscount replied, as if he were trying to -recall some item of news which would make a fitting pendant to the -other. - -"Very well, adieu!" cried the provost. - -"Adieu, my poor friend!" - -"Adieu!" - -"At all events I have given you warning." - -"Adieu!" - -"I shall have no reason to reproach myself: that consoles me." - -"Adieu! adieu!" - -"Good luck attend you! But I must say that I express that wish with but -little hope of its being gratified." - -"Adieu! adieu! adieu!" - -"Adieu!" - -And the Vicomte de Marmagne, sighing as if his heart would burst, and -with grief-stricken face, took his departure, gesticulating mournfully, -after he had pressed the provost's hand as if he were saying farewell to -him forever. - -The provost followed him, and with his own hands secured the street door -behind him. - -It will readily be understood that this friendly conversation had heated -Messire d'Estourville's blood and stirred his bile to an extreme degree. -He was looking around in search of some one upon whom he might vent his -ill-humor, when he suddenly remembered the young man whom he had seen -emerging from the Grand-Nesle as he entered with Comte d'Orbec. As -Raimbault was at hand he had not far to seek for one who could answer -his questions touching that stranger, so he summoned the gardener with -one of those imperative gestures which admit no delay, and asked him -what he knew about the young man. - -The gardener replied that the individual to whom his master referred had -presented himself in the king's name, to inspect the Grand-Nesle; that -he did not consider it his duty to take anything upon himself, and -therefore referred him to Dame Perrine, who good-naturedly showed him -over the whole establishment. - -The provost thereupon rushed to the Petit-Nesle to demand an explanation -from the worthy duenna, but she unfortunately had just gone out to -purchase the weekly supply of provisions. - -There remained Colombe, but as the provost could not believe that she -had seen the youthful stranger, after the forcible and explicit terms in -which he had forbidden Dame Perrine to allow good-looking young men to -approach her, he did not even speak to her on the subject. - -As his duties required him to return to the Grand Châtelet, he -departed, ordering Raimbault, on pain of instant dismissal, to admit no -person to the Grand or Petit-Nesle, whoever he might be, or in -whosesoever name he might come, especially the miserable adventurer who -had been admitted previously. - -So it was that, when Ascanio presented himself on the following day with -his wares, in accordance with Dame Perrine's suggestion, Raimbault -simply opened a small window, and informed him through the bars that the -Hôtel de Nesle was closed to everybody, particularly to him. - -Ascanio, as may be imagined, withdrew in despair; but we hasten to say -that he did not for a moment attribute this extraordinary reception to -Colombe; the maiden had bestowed but one glance upon him, had uttered -but one sentence, but that glance was so eloquent of shy affection, and -there was such a wealth of loving melody in that one sentence, that it -had seemed to Ascanio since he parted from her as if an angel's voice -were singing in his heart. - -He fancied therefore, and with good reason, that, as he had been seen by -the provost, the provost was the author of that terrible order of which -he was the victim. - - - - -VIII - - -PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE - - -Ascanio had no sooner returned to the studio on the previous day, and -made his report to Benvenuto touching that part of his expedition which -related to the topography of the Hôtel de Nesle, than the goldsmith, -seeing that it met his requirements in every respect, hastened to the -bureau of Seigneur de Neufville, the first secretary of the king's -treasury, to obtain from him documentary evidence of the royal gift. -Seigneur de Neufville demanded until the following day to assure himself -of the validity of Master Benvenuto's claims, and, although the latter -considered him extremely impertinent to refuse to take his word for it, -he realized the reasonableness of the demand, and assented, resolved -however not to allow Messire de Neufville a half-hour's grace on the -following day. - -He was punctual to the minute, and was at once admitted to the -secretary's presence, which he considered a favorable augury. - -"Well, Monseigneur," he said, "is the Italian a liar, or did he tell you -the truth?" - -"The whole truth, my dear friend." - -"That is very fortunate." - -"And the king has ordered me to hand you a deed of gift in proper form." - -"It will be welcome." - -"And yet--" continued the secretary, hesitatingly. - -"Well, what more is there? Let us hear." - -"And yet if you would allow me to offer you some good advice--" - -"Good advice! the devil! that's a rare article, Monsieur le Secrétaire; -say on, say on." - -"I should advise you to seek another location for your studio than the -Grand-Nesle." - -"Indeed!" retorted Benvenuto dryly; "think you that it is not a -convenient location?" - -"It is, indeed; and truth compels me to state that you would have great -difficulty in finding a better." - -"Very well, what is the matter then?" - -"That it belongs to a personage of too much importance for you to come -in collision with him without danger." - -"I myself belong to the noble King of France," rejoined Cellini, "and I -shall never flinch so long as I act in his name." - -"Very good, but in our country, Master Benvenuto, every nobleman is king -in his own house, and in seeking to eject the provost from the house -which he occupies you risk your life." - -"We must all die sooner or later," was Cellini's sententious reply. - -"You are determined, then--" - -"To kill the devil before the devil kills me. Trust me for that, -Monsieur le Secrétaire. Let the provost look well to himself, as all -those must do who assume to oppose the king's wishes, especially when -Master Benvenuto Cellini has it in charge to carry them out." - -Thereupon Messire Nicolas de Neufville made an end of his philanthropic -observations, but alleged all sorts of formalities to be complied with -before delivering the deed. But Benvenuto tranquilly seated himself, -declaring that he would not stir until the document was placed in his -hands, and that he was determined to stay the night there, if necessary, -having foreseen that possibility, and taken the precaution to say to his -people that he might not return. - -Taking note of this determination, Messire Nicolas de Neufville, -regardless of consequences, delivered the deed of gift to Benvenuto -Cellini, taking pains, however, to advise Messire Robert d'Estourville -of what he had been compelled to do, in part by the king's will, in part -by the goldsmith's persistence. - -Benvenuto returned to his domicile without saying anything to anybody of -what he had done, locked up the deed in the drawer in which he kept his -precious stones, and calmly resumed his work. - -The information transmitted to the provost by the secretary convinced -Messire Robert that Benvenuto, as the Vicomte de Marmagne had said that -he would do, persisted in his purpose to take possession of the Hôtel -de Nesle, peaceably or by force. The provost, therefore, prepared to -maintain his rights, sent for his twenty-four sergeants-at-arms, posted -sentinels upon the walls, and went to the Châtelet only when the duties -of his office absolutely compelled him to do so. - -Days passed, however, and Cellini, tranquilly occupied with the work he -had in hand, made not the least demonstration. But the provost felt -certain that this apparent tranquillity was only a ruse, and that his -foe proposed to wait until he had grown weary of watching, and then take -him unawares. And so Messire Robert, with eyes and ears always on the -alert, his mind always in a state of extreme tension, and engrossed with -warlike thoughts, was finally reduced by this condition of affairs, -which was neither peace nor war, to a state of feverish expectation and -anxiety, which threatened, if it were prolonged, to make him as mad as -the governor of the Castle of San Angelo. He could not eat or sleep, and -grew perceptibly thinner. - -From time to time he would abruptly draw his sword and begin to make -passes at a wall, shouting:-- - -"Let him come on! let him come on, the villain! Let him come on, I am -ready for him!" - -But Benvenuto did not come on. - -D'Estourville had his calmer moments, too, during which he would succeed -in persuading himself that the goldsmith's tongue, was longer than his -sword, and that he would never dare to carry out his damnable schemes. -It was at one of these moments that Colombe, happening to come out of -her room, observed all the warlike preparations, and asked her father -what was the occasion of them. - -"A scoundrel to be chastised, that's all," the provost replied. - -As it was the provost's business to chastise, Colombe did not even ask -who the scoundrel was whose chastisement was preparing, being too deeply -preoccupied with her own thoughts not to be content with this brief -explanation. - -In very truth, Messire Robert with a single word had made a fearful -change in his daughter's life; that life, hitherto so calm, so simple, -so obscure and secluded, that life of peaceful days and tranquil nights, -was like a lake whose surface is suddenly ruffled by a tempest. She had -felt at times before that her soul was sleeping, that her heart was -empty, but she thought that her solitude was the cause of her -melancholy, and attributed the emptiness of her heart to the fact that -she had lost her mother in her infancy. And now, without warning, her -existence, her thoughts, her heart and her soul were filled to -overflowing, but with grief. - -Ah! how she then sighed for the days of ignorance and tranquillity, when -the commonplace but watchful friendship of Dame Perrine was almost -sufficient for her happiness; the days of hope and faith, when she -reckoned upon the future as one reckons upon a friend; the days of -filial trust and confidence, when she believed in the affection of her -father. Alas! her future now was the hateful love of Comte d'Orbec; her -father's affection was simply ambition so disguised. Why, instead of -being the only inheritor of a noble name and vast fortune, was she not -the child of some obscure bourgeois of the city, who would have cared -for and cherished her? In that case she might, have fallen in with this -young artist, in whose speech there was so much to move and fascinate, -this handsome Ascanio, who seemed to have such a wealth of happiness and -love to bestow. - -But when the rapid beating of her heart and her flushed cheeks warned -her that the stranger's image had filled her thoughts too long, she -condemned herself to the task of banishing the lovely dream, and -succeeded in placing before her eyes the desolating reality. Since her -father had made known to her his matrimonial plans, she had expressly -forbidden Dame Perrine to receive Ascanio, upon one pretext or another, -threatening to tell her father everything if she disobeyed; and as the -governess, fearing to be accused of complicity with him, had said -nothing of the hostile projects of Ascanio's master, poor Colombe -believed herself to be well protected in that direction. - -It must not be supposed, however, that the sweet-natured child was -resigned to the idea of obeying her father's commands. No; her whole -being revolted at the thought of an alliance with this man, whom she -would have hated had she really known what hate was. Beneath her -beautiful, pale brow she revolved a thousand thoughts, hitherto unknown -to her mind,--thoughts of revolt and rebellion, which she looked upon -almost as crimes, and for which she asked God's forgiveness upon her -knees. Then it occurred to her to go and throw herself at the king's -feet. But she had heard it whispered that the same idea had occurred to -Diane de Poitiers under much more terrible circumstances, and that she -left her honor there. Madame d'Etampes might protect her too, if she -chose. But would she choose? Would she not greet the complaints of a -mere child with a contemptuous smile? Such a smile of mockery and -contempt she had seen upon her father's lips when she begged him to keep -her with him, and it made a terrible impression upon her. - -Thus Colombe had no refuge but God: and she knelt before her _prie-Dieu_ -a hundred times a day, imploring the Omnipotent to send succor to her -weakness before the end of the three months which still separated her -from her formidable _fiancé_, or, if she could hope for no relief on -earth, to allow her at least to join her mother in heaven. - -Ascanio's existence, meanwhile, was no less troublous and unhappy than -that of his beloved. Twenty times since Raimbault had made known to him -the order which forbade his admission to the Hôtel de Nesle had he -loitered dreaming about the lofty walls which separated him from his -life,--in the morning before anybody had risen, and at night after -everybody was asleep. But not once, either openly or furtively, did he -try to make his way into the forbidden garden. He still had that -virginal respect of early youth, which protects the woman whom one loves -against the very passion which she may have to fear at a later period. - -But this did not prevent Ascanio, as he worked away at his carving and -chasing, from indulging in many an extravagant dream, to say nothing of -those he dreamed in his morning and evening promenades, or during his -troubled sleep at night. These dreams were concerned more especially -with the day, at first so much dreaded, now so eagerly desired by him, -when Benvenuto should assume possession of the Hôtel de Nesle; for -Ascanio knew his master, and that all this apparent tranquillity was -that of a volcano breeding an eruption. Cellini had given out that the -eruption would take place on the following Sunday. Ascanio had no doubt, -therefore, that on the following Sunday Cellini's undertaking would be -accomplished. - -But so far as he was able to judge in his walks around the Séjour de -Nesle, the undertaking would not be accomplished without some -difficulty, thanks to the guard which was constantly maintained upon the -walls; and Ascanio had observed about the hotel all the indications of a -fortified post. If there should be an attack, there would be a defence; -and as the fortress seemed little disposed to capitulate, it was clear -that it must be taken by assault. It was at that decisive moment that -Ascanio's chivalrous nature might expect to find an opportunity to -display itself. There would be a battle, there would be a breach in the -walls to carry, and perhaps there would be a conflagration. Ah! -something of that sort was what he longed for! a conflagration most of -all,--a conflagration whereby Colombe's life would be endangered! Then -he would dart up the tottering staircases, among the burning rafters, -and over the crumbling walls. He would hear her voice calling for help; -he would seek her out, take her in his arms, dying and almost -unconscious, and bear her away to safety through the roaring sea of -flame, her heart against his, and inhaling her breath. Then, having -brought her safely through a thousand dangers, he would lay her at the -feet of her despairing father, who would reward his gallant conduct by -giving her to the man who had saved her life. Or else, as he bore her in -his arms over a frail plank thrown across the flaming chasm, his foot -would slip, and they would fall together and die in each other's arms, -their hearts blending in one last sigh, in a first and last kiss. This -latter alternative was not to be despised by one who had so little hope -in his heart as Ascanio; for next to the felicity of living for each -other, the greatest happiness is to die together. - -Thus it will be seen that all our friends were passing through some very -agitated days and nights, with the exception of Benvenuto Cellini, who -seemed entirely to have forgotten his hostile designs upon the Hôtel de -Nesle, and of Scozzone, who knew nothing of them. - -The whole week passed away thus, and Benvenuto Cellini, having worked -conscientiously throughout the six days that composed it, and having -almost completed the clay model of his Jupiter, donned his coat of mail -on the Saturday about five o'clock, buttoned his doublet over it, and, -bidding Ascanio accompany him, bent his steps toward the Hôtel de -Nesle. When they reached the spot, Cellini made the circuit of the -walls, spying out the weak spots, and meditating his plan of siege. - -The attack offered more than one difficulty, as the provost had said to -his friend Marmagne, as Ascanio had informed his master, and as -Benvenuto was now able to see for himself. The Château de Nesle was -crenellated and machicolated, was defended by a double wall on the river -side, and furthermore by the city moats and ramparts on the side of the -Pré-aux-Clercs. It was one of those massive and imposing feudal -structures, which were equal to the task of defending themselves by -their mass alone, provided that the doors were securely fastened, and of -repelling without outside assistance the assaults of _tirelaines_ and -_larroneurs_, as they were called in those days, or of the king's men, -if need were. This was often the case at that interesting epoch, when -one was generally compelled to do police duty for himself. - -Having made his reconnaissance according to all the ancient and modern -rules of strategy, and deeming it to be his duty to summon the place to -surrender before laying siege to it, he knocked at the little door by -which Ascanio had once entered. For him as for Ascanio the small window -opened; but it was the martial countenance of an archer, instead of that -of the pacific gardener, which appeared in the opening. - -"What do you want?" the archer demanded of the stranger who dared to -knock at the door of the Hôtel de Nesle. - -"To take possession of the hotel, which has been given to me, Benvenuto -Cellini," replied the goldsmith. - -"Very good,--wait," rejoined the fellow, and he went at once to notify -Messire d'Estourville, as he had been ordered to do. - -A moment later he returned, accompanied by the provost, who did not show -himself, but stood listening, with bated breath, in a corner, surrounded -by part of his garrison, in order to judge the better of the gravity of -the affair. - -"We do not know what you mean," said the archer. - -"If that be so," said Cellini, "hand this document to Messire le -Prévôt; it is a certified copy of the deed of gift." And he passed the -parchment through the window. - -The sergeant disappeared a second time; but as he had simply to put out -his hand to hand the copy to the provost, the window opened again almost -immediately. - -"Here is his answer," said the sergeant, passing through the bars the -parchment torn in pieces. - -"Very good," rejoined Cellini with perfect tranquillity. "_Au revoir_." - -He returned to his studio, highly gratified by the attention with which -Ascanio had followed his scrutiny of the place, and the young man's -judicious suggestions as to the _coup de main_ they were to attempt at -some time; and he assured his pupil that he would have made a -distinguished general, were it not that he was destined to become a -still more distinguished artist, which, in Cellini's view, was -infinitely preferable. - -The next morning the sun rose in all his glory; Benvenuto had requested -his workmen to come to the studio, although it was Sunday, and not one -of them failed to appear. - -"My children," said the master, "it is undoubtedly true that I engaged -you to work at the goldsmith's trade, and not to fight. But during the -two months that we have been together we have learned to know one -another so well that, in a serious emergency, I feel that I can count -upon you, as you all and always can count upon me. You know what I have -in contemplation: we are but poorly accommodated here, with but little -air and little space, and our elbows are too cramped to allow us to -undertake great works, or even to use the forge with any degree of -vigor. The king, in the presence of you all, deigned to bestow upon me a -larger and more commodious abode; but, as he has no leisure to bestow -upon trifling details, he left it to me to install myself therein. Now, -the present possessor does not choose to give over to me this property -which his Majesty has so generously presented to me; therefore we must -take it. The Provost of Paris, who retains possession in the face of his -Majesty's order, (it would seem that such things are of common -occurrence in this land,) does not know the man with whom he has to do; -as soon as I am refused, I demand; as soon as I am resisted, I take by -force. Are you disposed to assist me? I do not conceal from you that -there will be danger in so doing: there is a battle to be fought, there -are walls to be scaled, and other harmless amusements to be indulged in. -There is nothing to fear from the police or the patrol, because we act -by his Majesty's authority; but it may mean death, my children. -Therefore, let those who wish to go elsewhere do so without hesitation, -let those who wish to remain here not be ashamed to say as much; I ask -for none but bold and resolute hearts. If you leave me to go alone with -Pagolo and Ascanio, have no fear on our behalf. I know not how I shall -go to work; but I do know this, that I will not be disappointed for -that. But, by the blood of Christ! if you lend me your hearts and your -arms, as I hope you will, woe to the provost and the provostry. Now that -you are fully instructed in the matter, speak: will you follow me?" - -They all shouted with one voice:-- - -"Anywhere, master; wherever you choose to lead us!" - -"Bravo, my children! Then you are all in for the sport?" - -"All!" - -"Then let the tempest howl!" cried Benvenuto; "at last we are to have a -little diversion. I have been rusty long enough. Up, up, brave hearts -and swords! Ah! thank God! we are soon to give and receive a few lusty -blows! Look you, my dear boys, look you, my gallant friends, we must arm -ourselves, we must agree upon a plan; let them be ready to look to -themselves, and _vive la joie_! I will give you all that I possess in -the way of weapons, offensive and defensive, in addition to those that -are hanging on the wall, where every one can choose at will. Ah! what we -really need is a good culverin: but there's its value in arquebuses, -hackbuts, pikes, swords, and daggers; and there are coats of mail -galore, and cuirasses and helmets. Come, haste, haste, and let us dress -for the ball! the provost shall pay for the music!" - -"Hurrah!" cried all his companions. - -Thereupon the studio was the scene of a commotion, a tumult, wonderful -to look upon; the verve and enthusiasm of the master infected every -heart and every face. They tried on cuirasses, brandished swords, tested -the point of daggers, laughed and sang, as if a masquerade or festival -of some sort were in progress. Benvenuto ran hither and thither, handing -a boot to this one, buckling the belt of another, and feeling the blood -course hotly and freely through his veins, as if this were the life he -truly loved. - -The workmen meanwhile indulged in jokes at one another's expense, -commenting freely upon the bellicose demeanor and awkward attitudes of -their fellows. - -"Look, master!" cried one of them; "look at Simon-le-Gaucher,[4] putting -his sword on the same side as we! On the right, man! on the right!" - -"See Jehan," retorted Simon, "holding his halberd as he'll hold his -cross when he's a bishop!" - -"There's Pagolo putting on a double coat of mail!" said Jehan. - -"Why not?" replied Pagolo. "Hermann the German is arraying himself like -a knight in the days of the Emperor Barbarossa!" - -In fact, the youth referred to by the appellation of Hermann the German -(a somewhat pleonastic title, as his name alone was so distinctively -Germanic in sound as to indicate that its owner belonged to some one of -the circles of the Holy Empire),--Hermann, we say, had covered himself -from head to foot with iron, and resembled one of the gigantic statues -which the sculptors of that artistic age were accustomed to carve upon -tombs. - -Benvenuto, although the physical strength of this redoubtable comrade -from beyond the Rhine had become proverbial in the studio, remarked that -he would be likely to experience some difficulty in moving, being so -completely encased, and that his usefulness would certainly be lessened -rather than increased. Hermann's only reply was to leap upon a table as -lightly as if he were clad in velvet, take down an enormous hammer, wave -it around his head, and strike the anvil three such terrific blows that -each of them drove it an inch into the ground. There was nothing to say -to such a reply; so Benvenuto waved his hand and nodded his head -respectfully in token of satisfaction. - -Ascanio alone made his toilet apart from the others. He could not avoid -a feeling of uneasiness as to the results of the enterprise upon which -they were about to embark; for it might well be that Colombe would not -forgive him for attacking her father, especially if the struggle should -lead to some grave catastrophe, and he would find himself farther -removed from her heart, although nearer to her eyes. - -Scozzone, half joyous, half anxious, wept one moment and laughed the -next. The change of location and the prospect of a battle were by no -means unpleasing to her, but as for blows and wounds, that was another -matter; the preparations for the combat made the frolicsome creature -dance for joy, but its possible results made the woman that was in her -tremble. - -Benvenuto at last noticed her, smiling and weeping at the same time, and -he went to her side. - -"Thou wilt remain here, Scozzone, with Ruperta," he said, "and prepare -lint for the wounded, and a good dinner for those who come safely -through it." - -"Oh no, no!" cried Scozzone; "oh pray let me go with you! With you I -have courage enough to defy the provost and all his myrmidons, but alone -here with Ruperta I should die of anxiety and fear." - -"Oh, I could never consent to that," replied Benvenuto; "it would -trouble me too much to think that some mishap might befall thee. Thou -wilt pray for us, dear child, while awaiting our return." - -"Listen, Benvenuto," rejoined the maiden, as if struck by a sudden -thought, "you understand, of course, that I cannot endure the thought of -remaining quiet here while you are fighting yonder, wounded, perhaps -dying. But there is a way of satisfying both of us; instead of praying -for your safety here in the studio, I will go and pray in the church -nearest to the spot. In that way I shall be out of danger, and shall -know the result immediately, whether it be a victory or a defeat." - -"Very well, so be it," replied Benvenuto; "it is understood, of course, -that we shall not go forth to kill others, or to be killed ourselves, -without first fulfilling the pious duty of listening to mass. We will go -together to the church of the Grands Augustins, which is nearer than any -other to the Hôtel de Nesle, and will leave thee there, little one." - -These arrangements determined upon, and the preparations for the affray -at an end, they drank a glass of Burgundy to the success of their -enterprise. To their weapons, offensive and defensive, they added -hammers, tongs, ladders, and ropes, and left the studio, not after the -manner of an army corps, but two by two, at sufficiently long intervals -not to attract attention. It was not that a _coup de main_ was a more -unfrequent occurrence in those days than an _émeute_ or a change of -ministry in these days of ours; but, truth to say, it was not customary -to select the Sabbath day, or the hour of noon, for this sort of -diversion, and it required all Benvenuto's audacity, reinforced by his -consciousness that right was on his side, to venture upon such an -undertaking. - -One after another our heroes arrived at the Grands Augustins, and, -having given their weapons and tools into the charge of the sacristan, -who was a friend of Simon-le-Gaucher, they entered the church to listen -devoutly to the blessed sacrifice of the mass, and to implore God's help -in exterminating as many archers as possible. - -Truth compels us to state, however, that despite the gravity of the -impending crisis, despite his exemplary piety, and despite the -importance of the matters to which his prayers had reference, Benvenuto -had no sooner entered the church than his actions indicated that his -mind was upon something very different. His distraction was due to the -fact that just behind him, but on the other side of the nave, sat a -young girl reading from an illuminated missal,--a young girl so adorably -lovely that she might well have confused the thoughts of a saint, much -more of a sculptor. Under such circumstances the artist sadly interfered -with the devotions of the Christian. The gallant Cellini could not -resist the desire to have some one to join him in his admiration, and as -Catherine, who was at his left, would certainly have frowned upon his -inattention, he turned to Ascanio, who was at his right, with the -purpose of bidding him turn his eyes toward the lovely picture. - -But Ascanio's eyes needed no bidding in that direction; from the moment -that he entered the church his gaze was riveted upon the maiden, and his -eyes never left her face. - -Benvenuto, seeing that he was absorbed in contemplation of the same -object, simply nudged him with his elbow. - -"Yes," said Ascanio; "yes, it is Colombe. O master, is she not -beautiful?" - -It was indeed Colombe; her father, not anticipating an attack at high -noon, had given her permission, not without some reluctance, to go to -the Augustins to pray. Colombe, it is true, was very earnest in her -request, for it was the only consolation that remained to her. Dame -Perrine was by her side. - -"Ah çà! who is Colombe?" was Benvenuto's very natural query. - -"Ah! yes, you do not know her. Colombe is the daughter of the provost, -Messire d'Estourville himself. Is she not beautiful?" he said again. - -"No," rejoined Benvenuto, "no, it's not Colombe. 'T is Hebe, Ascanio, -the goddess of youth; the Hebe whom my great King François has ordered -at my hands; the Hebe of whom I have dreamed, for whom I have prayed to -God, and who has come down from above in response to my prayer." - -Regardless of the incongruity of the idea of Hebe reading her missal, -and pouring out her heart in prayer, Benvenuto continued his hymn to -beauty simultaneously with his devotion and his military plans: the -goldsmith, the Catholic, and the strategist predominated in his mind by -turns. - -"Our Father who art in heaven--Look, Ascanio, what clean-cut, expressive -features!--Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in -heaven--How fascinatingly graceful the undulating outline of her -figure!--Give us this day our daily bread--And thou sayest that such a -lovely child is the daughter of that rascally provost whom I propose to -exterminate with my own hand?--And forgive us our trespasses, as we -forgive those who trespass against us--Even though I have to burn down -the Hôtel to do it--Amen!" - -And Benvenuto crossed himself, having no doubt that he had just -concluded a most expressive rendering of the Lord's prayer. - -The mass came to an end while he was still absorbed in these -heterogeneous ideas, which might seem somewhat profane in the case of a -man of different temperament at a different epoch, but which were -altogether natural in so reckless a nature as Cellini's, at a time when -Clement Marot was putting the seven penitential psalms into gallant -verse. - -As soon as the _Ite, missa est_, was pronounced, Benvenuto and Catherine -exchanged a warm grasp of the hand. Then, while the girl, wiping away a -tear, remained on the spot where she was to await the result of the -combat, Cellini and Ascanio, their eyes still fixed upon Colombe, who -had not once looked up from her book, went with their companions to take -a drop of holy water; after which they separated, to meet in a deserted -_cul-de-sac_ about half-way from the church to the Hôtel de Nesle. - -Catherine, in accordance with the prearranged plan, remained to the -celebration of high mass, as did Colombe and Dame Perrine, who had -simply arrived a little early, and had listened to the first service -only as a preparation for the more solemn ceremony to follow; nor had -they any reason to suspect that Benvenuto and his apprentices were upon -the point of cutting all the lines of communication with the house they -had so imprudently quitted. - - - - -IX - - -THRUST AND PARRY - - -The decisive moment had arrived. Benvenuto divided his men into two -detachments: one was to attempt, by every possible means, to force the -door of the Hôtel; the other was to cover the operations of the first, -and to keep from the walls, with arquebus shots or with their swords, -any of the besieged who might appear upon the battlements, or who might -attempt a sortie. Benvenuto took command of this last detachment in -person, and selected our friend Ascanio for his lieutenant. At the head -of the other he placed Hermann, the good-humored, gallant German, who -could flatten an iron bar with a hammer, and a man with his fist. He -chose for his second in command little Jehan, a rascal of fifteen years, -as active as a squirrel, mischievous as a monkey, and impudent as a -page, for whom the Goliath had conceived a very deep affection, for the -reason, doubtless, that the playful youngster was forever tormenting -him. Little Jehan proudly took his place beside his captain, to the -great chagrin of Pagolo, who in his double cuirass was not unlike the -statue of the Commandeur in the rigidity of his movements. - -Having thus made his dispositions, and reviewed his men and inspected -their weapons for the last time, Benvenuto addressed a few words to the -brave fellows who were about to face danger, perhaps death, in his -cause, with such good will. Then he grasped each man's hand, crossed -himself devoutly, and cried, "Forward!" - -The two parties at once took up their line of march, and, skirting the -Quai des Augustins, which was deserted at that hour in that spot, they -very soon arrived at the Hôtel de Nesle. - -Thereupon Benvenuto, unwilling to attack his enemy without first going -through all the formalities prescribed by custom in such cases, went -forward alone, waving a white handkerchief at the end of his sword, to -the same small door as before, and knocked. As before, he was questioned -through the barred opening as to the object of his visit. Benvenuto -repeated the same formula, saying that he had come to take possession of -the château given him by the king. But he was less fortunate than on -the former occasion, in that he was not honored with any reply at all. - -Thereupon, facing the door, he exclaimed, in loud, distinct tones:-- - -"To thee, Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, do I, Benvenuto -Cellini, goldsmith, sculptor, painter, and engineer, make known that his -Majesty François I. has in his good pleasure, as it was his right to -do, given to me absolutely the Grand-Nesle. As thou dost insolently -maintain thy hold upon it, and, in contravention of the royal will, dost -refuse to deliver it to me, I hereby declare to thee, Robert -d'Estourville, Seigneur de Villebon, Provost of Paris, that I have come -to take possession of the Grand-Nesle by force. Defend thyself -therefore, and, if evil comes of thy refusal, know that thou wilt be -held answerable therefor on earth and in heaven, before man and before -God." - -With that Benvenuto paused, and waited; but not a sound came from behind -the walls. He thereupon loaded his arquebus, and ordered his men to make -ready their weapons; then, assembling the leaders Hermann, Ascanio, and -Jehan in council, he said to them:-- - -"You see, my children, that it is not possible to avoid the conflict. -Now it is for us to decide in what way we shall begin the attack." - -"I will break in the door," said Hermann, "and do you follow me in; -that's all." - -"With what will you do it, my Samson?" queried Cellini. - -Hermann looked about and saw on the quay a piece of timber which four -ordinary men would have found it difficult to lift. - -"With that beam," he said. - -He walked to where it lay, coolly picked it up, placed it under his arm, -and fixed it there like a rain in its socket, then returned to his -general. - -Meanwhile a crowd was beginning to collect, and Benvenuto, excited -thereby, was on the point of giving orders for the attack to begin, when -the captain of the king's archers, notified doubtless by some -conservative citizen, appeared at the corner of the street, accompanied -by five or six mounted men. This captain was a friend of the provost, -and although he knew perfectly well what was toward, he rode up to -Benvenuto, hoping to intimidate him doubtless, and while his people -checked Hermann's advance, he said:-- - -"What is your desire, and why do you thus disturb the peace of the -city?" - -"The man who really disturbs the peace," replied Cellini, "is he who -refuses to obey the king's orders, not he who executes them." - -"What do you mean?" inquired the captain. - -"I mean that I hold a deed in due form, delivered to me by Messire de -Neufville, secretary of the royal treasury, wherein his Majesty grants -to me the Hôtel du Grand-Nesle. But the people who are in possession -refuse to recognize this deed, and thereby keep me from my own. Now in -one way or another, I have got it into my head that, since Scripture -says that we must render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, -Benvenuto Cellini is entitled to take what belongs to Benvenuto -Cellini." - -"Yes! and instead of preventing us from taking possession of our -property, you ought to lend us a hand," cried Pagolo. - -"Be silent, rascal," said Benvenuto, stamping angrily; "I have no need -of anybody's assistance. Dost thou understand?" - -"You are right in theory, but wrong in practice," rejoined the captain. - -"How may that be?" demanded Benvenuto, who felt that the blood was -beginning to rise in his cheeks. - -"You are right to wish to enter into possession of your property, but -you are wrong to undertake to do it in this way; for you will not gain -much, I promise you, fighting walls with your swords. If I were to give -you a little friendly advice, it would be to apply to the officers of -justice, and carry your grievance to the Provost of Paris, for example. -With that, adieu, and good luck to you!" - -And the captain of the king's archers rode away with a sneering laugh, -whereupon the crowd laughed too. - -"He laughs best who laughs last," said Benvenuto Cellini. "Forward, -Hermann, forward!" - -Hermann took up his joist once more, and while Cellini, Ascanio, and two -or three of the most skilful marksmen of the party, arquebus in hand, -stood in readiness to fire upon the wall, he rushed forward like a -living catapult against the small door, which they deemed to be easier -to burst in than the large one. - -But when he approached the wall a shower of stones began to rain down -upon him, although no defenders could be seen; for the provost had -ordered stones to be piled on top of the wall, and it was necessary only -to push lightly against the piles to send them down upon the heads of -the besiegers. - -The latter, being thus warmly received, recoiled a step or two, but, -although taken entirely by surprise by this alarming method of defence, -no one was wounded save Pagolo; he was so overburdened with his double -cuirass that he could not fall back so quickly as the others, and was -wounded in the heel. - -Hermann himself was no more disturbed by this shower of pebbles than an -oak tree by a hail-storm, and kept on to the door, where he at once set -to work and began to deal such blows against it that it soon became -evident that, stout as it was, it could not long withstand such -treatment. - -Benvenuto and his men meanwhile stood ready with their arquebuses to -fire upon anybody who might appear upon the wall, but no one appeared. -The Grand-Nesle seemed to be defended by an invisible garrison, and -Benvenuto raged inwardly at his inability to do anything to assist the -dauntless German. Suddenly he happened to glance at the old Tour de -Nesle, which stood by itself, as we have said, on the other side of the -quay, and bathed its feet in the Seine. - -"Wait, Hermann," cried Cellini, "wait, my good fellow; the Hôtel de -Nesle is ours as surely as my name is Benvenuto Cellini, and I am a -goldsmith by trade." - -Motioning to Ascanio and his two companions to follow him, he ran to the -tower, while Hermann, in obedience to his orders, stepped back out of -range of the stones, and awaited the fulfilment of the general's -promise, leaning upon his timber as a Swiss would lean upon his halberd. - -As Benvenuto anticipated, the provost had neglected to station a guard -in the old tower, so that he took possession of it unopposed, and, -running up the stairs, four at a leap, reached the summit in a moment; -the terrace overlooked the walls of the Grand-Nesle, as a steeple -overlooks a town, so that the besieged, who a moment before were -sheltered by their ramparts, suddenly found themselves entirely -unprotected. - -The report of an arquebus and the hissing of a bullet, followed by the -fall of an archer, warned the provost that the face of affairs was in -all probability about to change. - -At the same moment Hermann, realizing that he would now have a free -field, resumed his joist, and began to batter away again at the door, -which the besieged had strengthened somewhat during the momentary -suspension of hostilities. - -The crowd, with the marvellous instinct of self-possession always -noticeable in such bodies, realized that shooting was to form part of -the entertainment, and that spectators of the tragedy about to be -enacted were likely to be splashed with blood; and they no sooner heard -the report of Benvenuto's arquebus and the cry of the wounded archer -than they dispersed like a flock of pigeons. - -A single individual remained. - -This was no other than our friend, Jacques Aubry, the student, who had -kept the appointment made the preceding Sunday with Ascanio, in the hope -of enjoying his game of tennis. - -He had but to east a glance over the battle-field to understand what was -going on. - -It is not difficult to divine the determination arrived at by Jacques -Aubry, from what we have already seen of his character. To play at -tennis or with fire-arms was equally sport to him; and as he guessed -that the besiegers were most likely to be his friends, he enlisted under -their banner. - -"Well, my boys," he said, walking up to the group which was waiting for -the door to be burst in to rush into the citadel, "we are having a bit -of a siege, are we? Peste! you're not attacking a cabin, and it's a -good deal of an undertaking for so few of you to try to take a strong -place like this." - -"We are not alone," said Pagolo, who was dressing his heel; and he -pointed to Benvenuto and his three or four companions, who were keeping -up such a well sustained fire upon the wall that the stones were falling -much less freely than at first. - -"I see, I see, Master Achilles," said Jacques Aubry, "for you are like -him in being wounded in the heel, in addition to a thousand other points -of similarity, no doubt. I see: yes, there's my friend Ascanio, and the -master doubtless, on top of the tower yonder." - -"Very true," said Pagolo. - -"And that fellow banging away at the door so lustily is one of you also, -isn't he?" - -"That's Hermann," said little Jehan proudly. - -"Peste! how he goes on!" said the student. "I must go and congratulate -him." - -He sauntered along with his hands in his pockets, regardless of the -bullets whistling above his head, to the brave German, who kept at his -task with the regularity of a machine. - -"Do you need anything, my dear Goliath?" said Jacques Aubry. "I am at -your service." - -"I am thirsty," replied Hermann, without pausing in his work. - -"Peste! I can well believe it; that's thirsty work you're doing there, -and I wish I had a cask of beer to offer you." - -"Water!" said Hermann, "water!" - -"Do you mean that mild beverage will satisfy you? So be it. The -river is at hand, and you shall be served in a moment." - -Jacques ran to the river, filled his helmet with water, and took it to -the German. He leaned his beam against the wall, swallowed at a draught -all that the helmet contained, and handed it back to the student empty. - -"Thanks," he said, and, taking up the beam once more, he resumed his -work. - -An instant later he said, "Go and tell the master to be in readiness, -for we are getting on famously here." - -Jacques Aubry started for the tower, and in a very few moments he stood -between Ascanio and Benvenuto, who were keeping up such a brisk and -effective fire that they had already shot down two or three men, and the -provost's archers were beginning to' think twice before showing -themselves upon the walls. - -Meanwhile, as Hermann had sent word to Benvenuto, the door was beginning -to yield, and the provost resolved to make one last effort; he cheered -on his men to such good purpose that the stones began to rain down once -more. But two or three arquebus shots speedily calmed anew the ardor of -the besieged, who, despite all Messire Robert's promises and -remonstrances, coyly remained out of range. Thereupon Messire Robert -himself appeared, alone, carrying in his hands an enormous stone, and -made ready to hurl it down upon Hermann's head. - -But Benvenuto was not the man to allow his retainer to be taken by -surprise. As soon as he caught sight of the provost rashly venturing -where no one else ventured to go, he put his weapon to his shoulder; it -would have been all up with Messire Robert, had not Ascanio, just as -Cellini pulled the trigger, thrown up the barrel with a quick motion of -his hand accompanied by a sharp exclamation, so that the bullet whistled -harmlessly through the air. Ascanio had recognized Colombe's father. - -As Benvenuto turned furiously upon him to demand an explanation, the -stone, thrown with all the force the provost could impart to it, fell -full upon Hermann's helmet. Even the enormous strength of the modern -Titan was not equal to the task of sustaining such a blow; he relaxed -his hold of the timber, threw out his arms as if seeking something to -cling to, and, finding nothing within reach, fell to the ground -unconscious, with a terrible crash. - -Besieged and besiegers simultaneously set up a shout. Little Jehan and -three or four comrades who were near Hermann ran to him to carry him -away from the wall, and look to his injuries; but the large and small -doors of the Hôtel de Nesle opened at the same moment, and the provost, -at the head of twelve or fifteen men, darted upon the wounded man, -cutting and slashing vigorously, as did all his followers, so that Jehan -and his comrades were forced to retreat, although Benvenuto was shouting -to them to hold their ground, and that he would come and help them. The -provost seized the opportunity; eight of his men lifted Hermann, who was -still unconscious, by the arms and legs, and seven took up a position to -protect their retreat, so that, while Cellini, Ascanio, and their three -or four comrades on the terrace of the tower were hurrying down the four -or five flights of stairs which lay between them and the street, Hermann -and his bearers re-entered the Grand-Nesle. When Cellini, arquebus in -hand, appeared at the door of the tower, the door of the Hôtel was just -closing behind the last of the provost's men-at-arms. - -There was no disguising the fact that this was a check, and a serious -check at that. Cellini, Ascanio, and their comrades had, it is true, -disabled three or four of the besieged, but the loss of these three or -four men was much less disastrous to the provost, than was the loss of -Hermann to Cellini. - -The besiegers were dazed for a moment. - -Suddenly Ascanio and Cellini looked at each other, as if by a common -impulse. - -"I have a plan," said Cellini, looking to the left, that is to say, -toward the city. - -"And so have I," Ascanio rejoined, looking to the right, that is to say, -toward the fields. - -"I have devised a plan to bring the garrison out of the castle." - -"And I a plan to open the door for you, if you do bring them out." - -"How many men do you need?" - -"A single one will suffice." - -"Choose." - -"Will you come with me, Jacques Aubry?" said Ascanio. - -"To the end of the world, my dear fellow, to the end of the world. But I -shouldn't be sorry to have some sort of a weapon, the end of a sword for -instance, or a suspicion of a dagger--four or five inches of steel to -feel my way with if occasion requires." - -"Oh, take Pagolo's sword," said Ascanio; "he can't use it, for he's -nursing his heel with his right hand and crossing himself with the -other." - -"And here's my own dagger to complete your outfit," said Cellini. -"Strike with it all you please, young man, but do not leave it in the -wound; it would be altogether too handsome a present to the wounded man, -for the hilt was carved by myself, and is worth a hundred golden crowns, -if it is worth a sou." - -"And the blade?" queried Jacques Aubry. "The hilt is very valuable, no -doubt, but at such a time the blade is of the greatest importance to my -mind." - -"The blade is priceless," rejoined Benvenuto; "with it I killed my -brother's murderer." - -"Bravo!" cried the student. "Come, Ascanio, let's be off." - -"I am ready," said Ascanio, winding five or six lengths of rope around -his body, and putting one of the ladders over his shoulder,--"I am -ready." - -The two venturesome youths walked along the quay a hundred yards or -thereabouts, then turned to the left, and disappeared around the corner -of the wall of the Grand-Nesle, behind the city moat. - -Let us leave Ascanio to carry out his scheme, and follow Cellini in the -development of his. - -The objects upon which his eyes rested, when, as we have said, he looked -toward the left, that is, in the direction of the city, were two women, -standing amid a group of timid spectators at some little distance,--two -women, in whom he thought he recognized the provost's daughter and her -governess. - -They were in fact Colombe and Dame Perrine, who, after hearing mass, set -out to return to the Petit-Nesle, and had come to a stand-still in the -crowd, trembling with alarm on account of what they had heard of the -siege that was in progress, and of what they saw with their own eyes. - -But Colombe no sooner perceived that there was a momentary cessation of -hostilities, which left the road open for her, than, heedless of the -entreaties of Dame Perrine, who begged her not to risk her safety in the -tumult, she went forward resolutely, impelled by her anxiety for her -father, and leaving Dame Perrine entirely free to follow her or to -remain where she was. As the duenna was really deeply attached to her -charge, she determined to accompany her, notwithstanding her fright. - -They left the group just as Ascanio and Jacques Aubry turned the corner -of the wall. - -Now Benvenuto Cellini's plan may be divined. - -As soon as he saw the two women coming toward him, he himself stepped -forward to meet them, and gallantly offered his arm to Colombe. - -"Have no fear, madame," he said; "if you will deign to accept my arm I -will escort you to your father." - -Colombe hesitated, but Dame Perrine seized the arm on her side which -Benvenuto had forgotten to offer her. - -"Take his arm, my dear, take it," she said, "and let us accept this -noble knight's protection. Look, look! there is Monsieur le Prévôt, -leaning over the wall: he is anxious about us, no doubt." - -Colombe took Benvenuto's arm, and the three walked to within a step or -two of the door. - -There Cellini stopped, and said to the provost in a loud voice, making -sure that Colombe's arm and Dame Perrine's were safely within his own:-- - -"Monsieur le Prévôt, your daughter who is here desires to enter; I -trust that you will open the door to her, unless you prefer to leave so -charming a hostage in your enemy's hands." - -Twenty times within two hours the provost, behind his ramparts, had -thought of his daughter, whom he had so imprudently allowed to go out, -being in considerable doubt as to the possibility of admitting her -again. He was hoping that she would be warned in time, and would be wise -enough to go to the Grand Châtelet and await results, when he saw -Cellini leave his companions and go to meet two women, in whom he -recognized Colombe and Dame Perrine. - -"The little fool!" he muttered beneath his breath; "but I can't leave -her in the midst of these miscreants." - -He opened the wicket, and showed his face behind the grating. - -"Well," said he, "what are your terms!" - -"These," said Benvenuto. "I will allow Madame Colombe and her governess -to enter, but only on condition that you come forth with all your men, -and we will then decide our dispute by a fair fight in the open. They -who remain in possession of the battle-field shall have the Hôtel de -Nesle; '_Vœ victis_!' as your compatriot Brennus said." - -"I accept," said the provost, "on one condition." - -"What is it?" - -"That you and your people stand back to give my daughter time to come in -and my archers time to go out." - -"Agreed," said Cellini; "but do you come out first, and let Madame -Colombe go in afterward; when she is safely inside, you will throw the -key over the wall to her, and thus leave yourself no opportunity to -retreat." - -"Agreed," said the provost. - -"Your word?" - -"On the faith of a gentleman. And yours!" - -"On the faith of Benvenuto Cellini." - -These terms being agreed upon, the door opened, and the provost's -retainers filed out, and drew up in two rows before the door, Messire -d'Estourville at their head. They were nineteen in all. On the other -side, Benvenuto, without Ascanio, Hermann, and Jacques Aubry, had but -eight men remaining, and of these Simon-le-Gaucher was wounded,--luckily -in the right hand. But Benvenuto was not given to counting his foes; it -will be remembered that he did not hesitate to attack Pompeo -single-handed, although he was attended by a dozen sbirri. He was only -too glad, therefore, to abide by his agreement, for he desired nothing -so much as a general and decisive action. - -"You may go in now, madame," he said to his fair prisoner. - -Colombe flew across the space which lay between the two camps as swiftly -as the bird whose name she bore, and threw herself panting into the -provost's arms. - -"Father! father!" she cried, weeping, "in Heaven's name, do not expose -yourself!" - -"Go inside!" said the provost sharply, taking her by the arm, and -leading her to the door; "'t is your folly that reduces us to this -extremity." - -Colombe passed through the door, followed by Dame Perrine, to whom fear -had lent, if not wings, as to her lovely ward, at least legs, which she -thought she had lost ten years before. - -The provost closed the door behind them. - -"The key! the key!" cried Cellini. - -True to his promise, the provost took the key from the lock and threw it -over the wall, so that it fell into the courtyard. - -"And now," cried Benvenuto, rushing upon the provost and his troop, -"every man for himself, and God for us all!" - -A terrible struggle ensued, for before the provost's people had time to -lower their weapons and fire, Benvenuto with his seven workmen was in -their midst, slashing to right and left with the terrible sword which he -handled in such masterly fashion, and which, forged by his own hand, met -few coats of mail or breastplates able to resist it. The soldiers -thereupon cast aside their useless arquebuses, drew their swords, and -began to cut and thrust in return. But, despite their numbers and their -gallantry, in less time than it takes to write the words, they were -scattered all about the square, and two or three of the bravest, wounded -so severely that they could tight no longer, were forced to fall back. - -The provost saw the danger, and being a brave man, who in his time had -achieved some fame as a fighting man, he rushed forward to confront this -redoubtable Benvenuto Cellini, whom nobody seemed able to withstand. - -"To me!" he cried; "to me, infamous robber! and let us decide the -affair! What say you?" - -"Oh! I could ask nothing better," replied Benvenuto. "If you will bid -your people not to interfere with us, I am your man." - -"Stand where you are!" said the provost to his men. - -"Let not one of you stir!" said Cellini to his. - -And the combatants on either side stood rooted in their places, silent -and motionless, like the Homeric warriors, who ceased their own fighting -in order to miss no part of a contest between two renowned chiefs. - -Thereupon the provost and Cellini, each of whom already held his naked -sword in his hand, attacked each other at the same instant. - -The provost was a clever fencer, but Cellini's skill in that direction -was of the very first order. For ten or twelve years past the provost -had not once had occasion to draw his sword. On the other hand, during -those same ten or twelve years hardly a day had passed that Benvenuto -had not had or made an occasion to draw his. At the outset, therefore, -the provost, who had counted a little too much upon his own prowess, -became conscious of his enemy's superiority. - -Cellini, for his part, meeting with a resistance which he hardly -anticipated from a man of the robe, exerted all the energy, activity, -and cunning of which he was capable. It was a marvellous thing to watch -his sword, which, like the triple sting of a serpent, threatened the -head and the heart at the same instant, flying from place to place, and -hardly giving his adversary time to parry, much less to make a single -thrust. And so the provost, realizing that he had to do with one -stronger than himself, began to give ground, still defending himself, -however. Unluckily for Messire Robert, his back was toward the wall, so -that a very few steps brought him up against the door, for which he -instinctively aimed, although he was well aware that he had thrown the -key over the wall. - -When he reached that point he felt that he was lost, and like a wild -boar at bay, he summoned all his strength, and delivered three or four -lusty blows in such rapid succession that it was Benvenuto's turn to -parry: once indeed he was a second too late, and his adversary's blade -grazed his breast, despite the excellent coat of mail he wore. But, like -a wounded lion bent upon speedy vengeance, Benvenuto, the moment that he -felt the sharp point of the sword, gathered himself for a spring, and -would have run the provost through with a deadly lunge, had not the door -behind him suddenly given way at that moment, so that Messire -d'Estourville fell over backwards, and the sword came in contact with -the individual who had saved him by opening the door so unexpectedly. - -But the result was different from what might have been expected, for the -wounded man said nothing, while Benvenuto gave utterance to a terrible -cry. He had recognized Ascanio in the man whom he had unintentionally -wounded. He had no eyes for Hermann or for Jacques Aubry, who stood -behind his victim. Like a madman, he threw his arms around the young -man's neck, seeking the wound with his eyes and his hand and his mouth, -and crying:-- - -"Slain, slain, slain by my hand! Ascanio, my child, I have killed thee!" -and roaring and weeping, as lions roar and weep. - -Meanwhile Hermann extricated the provost, unharmed, from between -Ascanio's and Cellini's legs, and, taking him under his arm as he might -have done with a baby, deposited him in a little house where Raimbault -kept his gardening tools. He locked the door upon him, drew his sword, -and assumed a posture indicative of his purpose to defend his prisoner -against any one who might undertake to recapture him. - -Jacques Aubry made but one bound from the pavement to the top of the -wall, brandishing his dagger triumphantly, and shouting: "Blow, -trumpets, blow! the Grand-Nesle is ours!" - -How all these surprising things had come to pass the reader will -discover in the following chapter. - - -[Footnote 4: Left-handed.] - - - - -X - - -OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS - - -The Hôtel de Nesle, on the side bounded by the Pré-aux-Clercs, was -doubly defended by its walls and by the city moat, so that on that side -it was considered impregnable. Now Ascanio very sensibly reflected that -it is seldom deemed necessary to guard what cannot be taken, and he -determined to make an attack upon the point where the besieged had not -thought of providing against one. - -With that object in view he set out with his friend Jacques Aubry, not -dreaming that, as he disappeared in one direction, Colombe would appear -in the other, and provide Benvenuto with a means of compelling the -provost to adopt a course which he was most reluctant to adopt. - -Ascanio's scheme was very difficult of execution, and very dangerous in -its possible results. He proposed to cross a deep moat, scale a wall -twenty-five feet high, and at the end perhaps fall into the midst of the -enemy. Not till he arrived at the brink of the moat and of his -enterprise did he realize the difficulty of crossing the one and -carrying through the other; and then his determination, firm as it was -at the outset, wavered for an instant. - -Jacques Aubry halted some ten or twelve paces behind his friend, and -stood tranquilly gazing from the wall to the moat. Having measured them -both with his eye, he said:-- - -"I beg you, my dear fellow, to have the kindness to inform me why you -bring me hither, unless it be to fish for frogs. Ah! yes,--you glance at -your ladder. Very good. I understand. But your ladder is only twelve -feet long, while the wall is twenty-five feet high and the moat ten -wide, which makes a difference of twenty-three feet, if my reckoning is -correct." - -Ascanio was taken aback for a moment by this unanswerable arithmetic; -but suddenly he cried, striking his forehead with his hand:-- - -"Ah! I have an idea! Look!" - -"Where?" - -"There!" said Ascanio; "there!" - -"That's not an idea you are pointing at," rejoined the student, "but an -oak tree." - -There was in truth a huge oak growing near the outer edge of the moat, -the upper branches of which gazed inquisitively over the wall of the -Séjour de Nesle. - -"What? don't you understand?" cried Ascanio. - -"Yes! yes! I begin to see through it now. Yes, it's the very thing. I -see it all. The oak and the wall form part of the arch of a bridge which -your ladder will complete: but the abyss yawns beneath, my friend, and -an abyss full of mud. The devil! we mustn't forget that. I am wearing -my best clothes, and Simonne's husband is beginning to grumble about -giving me credit." - -"Help me to hoist the ladder," said Ascanio; "that's all I ask of you." - -"Aha!" said the student, "and I am to stay below! Thanks!" - -Each of them seized a branch, and they were soon in the tree. By their -united strength they succeeded in pulling the ladder up after them to -the top of the tree, where they lowered it like a drawbridge, and found -to their intense satisfaction that while one end rested firmly upon a -stout branch, the other end extended two or three feet beyond the wall. - -"But when we are upon the wall, what are we to do?" Aubry inquired. - -"Why, when we're upon the wall we will pull the ladder after us, and go -down by it." - -"Very good. There is only one trifling difficulty, and that is that the -wall is twenty-five feet high, and the ladder only twelve." - -"I have provided for that," said Ascanio, unwinding the rope from his -body. He then made one end fast to the trunk of the tree, and threw the -other over the wall. - -"Ah! great man, I understand you," cried Aubry, "and I am proud and -happy to break my neck with you." - -"Very well! what do you propose to do?" - -"Go across," and Aubry prepared to cross the space that lay between them -and the wall. - -"No, no!" said Ascanio, "it is my place to go first." - -"Which finger is wet?" said Aubry, holding out his hand to his companion -with two fingers open and two closed. - -"So be it," said Ascanio, touching one of the two closed fingers. - -"You have won," said Aubry. "Go on: but keep cool, don't get excited." - -"Never fear." - -Ascanio started out upon the flying bridge, while Jacques Aubry steadied -it by sitting upon the end; the ladder was a frail support, but the -daring youth was light. The student, hardly daring to breathe, thought -that he wavered for an instant; but he passed quickly over the narrow -space that separated him from the wall, and arrived there safe and -sound. He was still in very great danger if any of the besieged should -happen to espy him, but his anticipations were verified. - -"No one in sight," he shouted to his companion,--"no one!" - -"If that is so," said Aubry, "on with the dance!" - -And he ventured upon the narrow, trembling path, while Ascanio, putting -his whole weight upon the other end of the ladder, repaid the service -rendered him. As he was as light and as active as Ascanio, he was at his -side in an instant. - -Both of them sat astride the wall and drew the ladder across; they then -made fast the other end of the rope to it, and lowered it, swinging it -out so that the lower end would rest on the ground at a safe distance -from the wall; lastly, Ascanio, who had won the privilege of making -experiments, took the rope in both hands and slid down until his feet -rested upon the topmost round of the ladder; another second and he was -on the ground. - -Jacques Aubry followed him with similar good fortune, and the two -friends found themselves in the garden. - -It was plainly advisable for them to act at once. All their manœuvring -had taken considerable time, and Ascanio was fearful lest his absence -and Aubry's had been prejudicial to the master's interests. Drawing -their swords as they ran, they hastened to the door leading into the -first courtyard, where the garrison should be, assuming that they had -not changed their position. When they reached the door, Ascanio put his -eye to the keyhole, and saw that the courtyard was empty. - -"Benvenuto has succeeded," he cried; "the garrison has gone out. The -hotel is ours!" and he tried to open the door, which proved to be -locked. - -Both of the young men put forth all their strength in an effort to force -it. - -"This way! this way!" exclaimed a voice, which found an echo in -Ascanio's heart: "this way, Monsieur!" - -He turned and saw Colombe at a window on the ground floor. In two bounds -he was at her side. - -"Aha!" exclaimed Jacques Aubry, following him; "it seems that we have -friends in the citadel! Aha! you didn't tell me that, my boy!" - -"Oh! save my father, Monsieur Ascanio!" cried Colombe, without any -indication of surprise at the young man's appearance, and as if his -presence were the most natural thing in the world. "They are fighting -outside, do you know, and it's all for me, all on my account! O mon -Dieu! mon Dieu! grant that they kill not one another!" - -"Have no fear," said Ascanio, darting into the apartment, which had a -door leading into the little courtyard; "have no fear, I will answer for -everything!" - -"Have no fear," said Jacques Aubry, following at his heels; "have no -fear, we will answer for everything!" - -As he entered the room Ascanio heard his name called a second time, but -by a voice much less musical than the other. - -"Who calls me?" he said. - -"I, my young friend," the same voice replied, with a most pronounced -Teutonic accent. - -"Pardieu!" cried Aubry, "'t is our Goliath! What the deuce are you doing -in that hen-roost?" he added, looking through the window of the -gardener's shed, at which he saw a face which he recognized as -Hermann's. - -"I haf found myself here, but I know not how I haf here come. Draw the -bolt, that I may go and fight. Quick, quick, quick! my hand itches." - -"There you are!" said the student, rendering Hermann the service he -requested. - -Meanwhile Ascanio was hurrying toward the door opening on the quay, -where he could hear a tremendous clashing of swords. When naught but the -thickness of the wood separated him from the combatants, he feared that, -if he showed himself at that moment, he might fall into the hands of his -enemies, so he first looked out through the grated wicket. There he saw -Cellini facing him, eager, excited and thirsting for the blood of his -antagonist, and realized that Messire Robert was lost. He picked up the -key, which lay on the ground, opened the door quickly, and thinking of -nothing save his promise to Colombe, received in his shoulder the blow -which, but for him, would inevitably have transfixed the provost. - -We have already witnessed the result of that occurrence. Benvenuto, in -desperation, threw himself upon Ascanio's neck; Hermann imprisoned the -provost in the same cage from which he had just been set free himself; -and Jacques Aubry, perched upon the rampart, flapped his wings and -crowed lustily in honor of the victory. - -The victory was in very truth complete; the provost's people, when their -master was made prisoner, did not even try to dispute it, but laid down -their arms. - -Accordingly the goldsmiths all entered the courtyard of the Grand-Nesle, -thenceforth their property, and secured the door behind them, leaving -the archers and sergeants outside. - -Benvenuto, however, took no part in the latter proceedings; he still -held Ascanio in his arms, having removed his coat of mail, torn away his -doublet, and finally reached the wound, and was stanching the flow of -blood with his handkerchief. - -"My Ascanio, my child!" he said again and again; "wounded, wounded by -me! what will thy mother in heaven say? Forgive me, Stefana, forgive me! -Art thou in pain? tell me. Does my hand hurt thee? Will this accursed -blood never stop? A surgeon, quickly! Pray, will not some one call a -surgeon?" - -Jacques Aubry ran out of the courtyard at the top of his speed. - -"It is nothing, dear master, it is nothing," said Ascanio; "a mere -scratch on my arm.--Don't feel so terribly, for I assure you it's -nothing." - -The surgeon, brought to the hotel by Jacques Aubry five minutes later, -confirmed Ascanio's assurance that the wound was not dangerous, although -quite deep, and at once set about bandaging it. - -"Ah! what a weight you lift from my heart!" said Cellini. "Then I am not -thy murderer, dear child! But what is the matter, my Ascanio? thy pulse -is beating madly, and the blood rushing to thy face! O Monsieur le -Chirurgien, we must take him away from here,--the fever is laying hold -of him." - -"No, no, master," said Ascanio, "on the contrary I feel much better. -Leave me here, leave me here, I implore you!" - -"My father?" suddenly inquired a voice behind Benvenuto, which made him -jump; "what have you done with my father?" - -Benvenuto turned and saw Colombe, pale and rigid, seeking the provost -with her glance, as she asked for him with her voice. - -"Oh! he is safe and sound, Mademoiselle! safe and sound, thanks be to -Heaven!" cried Ascanio. - -"Thanks be to this poor boy, who received the blow intended for him," -said Benvenuto, "for you may truly say that this gallant fellow saved -your life, Monsieur le Prévôt.--How's this? where are you, Messire -Robert?" exclaimed Cellini, looking about for the provost, whose -disappearance he could not understand. - -"He is here, master," said Hermann. - -"Where, pray?" - -"Here, in the little prison." - -"O Monsieur Benvenuto!" cried Colombe, darting to the shed with a -gesture of mingled entreaty and reproach. - -"Open, Hermann," said Cellini. - -Hermann obeyed, and the provost appeared in the doorway, somewhat -humiliated by his misadventure. Colombe threw herself into his arms. - -"O father! father!" she cried; "are you not wounded? has no harm -befallen you?" and as she spoke she looked at Ascanio. - -"No," said the provost in his harsh voice, "no, thank Heaven! nothing -has happened to me." - -"And--and--" queried Colombe, in a faltering tone, "is it true that this -youth--" - -"I cannot deny that he arrived at just the right time." - -"Yes," interposed Cellini, "yes, at the right time to receive the sword -thrust which I intended for you, Monsieur le Prévôt. Yes, Mademoiselle -Colombe, yes," he added, "you owe your father's life to this brave -fellow, and if Monsieur le Prévôt doesn't proclaim it from the -housetops, he is an ingrate as well as a liar." - -"I trust that his rescuer will not have to pay too dearly for his -gallantry," rejoined Colombe, blushing at her own audacity. - -"O Mademoiselle!" cried Ascanio, "I would gladly have shed all my blood -in such a cause!" - -"Well, well, Messire le Prévôt," said Cellini, "see what tender -emotions you have caused to spring up. But Ascanio may not be able to -bear the excitement. The bandage is in place, and it would be well for -him, I think, to take a little rest now." - -What Benvenuto had said to the provost of the service rendered him by -the wounded man was no more than the truth; and as every truth has an -innate strength of its own, the provost in his heart could but admit -that he owed his life to Ascanio. He therefore put a good face on the -matter, and approached the wounded man, saying:-- - -"Young man, an apartment in my hotel is at your service." - -"In your hotel, Messire Robert!" exclaimed Cellini, with a laugh, for -his good humor returned as his anxiety on Ascanio's account vanished; -"in your hotel? Why, do you really wish to begin the battle over again?" - -"What!" cried the provost, "do you claim the right to turn my daughter -and myself out of doors?" - -"By no means, Messire. You now occupy the Petit-Nesle. Very good! keep -the Petit-Nesle, and let us live on such terms as good neighbors should. -Be good enough, Messire, to make no opposition to Ascanio's being at -once made comfortable in the Grand-Nesle, where we will join him this -evening. Thereafter, if you prefer war--" - -"O father!" cried Colombe. - -"No! peace!" said the provost. - -"There can be no peace without conditions, Monsieur le Prévôt. Do me -the honor to accompany me to the Grand-Nesle, or the favor to receive me -at the Petit, and we will draw up our treaty." - -"I will go with you, Monsieur," said the provost. - -"So be it!" - -"Mademoiselle," said D'Estourville then to his daughter, "be good enough -to return to your apartments and await my return there." - -Colombe, notwithstanding the harsh tone in which this command was -uttered, presented her forehead to her father to kiss, and with a -courtesy addressed to everybody present, so that Ascanio might come in -for a share of it, she withdrew. - -Ascanio followed her with his eyes until she disappeared. As there was -nothing further to detain him in the courtyard, he asked to be taken -inside. Hermann thereupon took him under the arms as if he were a child, -and transported him to the Grand-Nesle. - -"On my word, Messire Robert," said Benvenuto, who had also looked after -the maiden while she was in sight, "on my word! you were very judicious -to send my late prisoner away, and I thank you for the precaution,--on -my honor I do. I am free to say that Mademoiselle Colombe's presence -might have been prejudicial to my interests by making me too weak, and -too willing to forget that I am a victor, to remember simply that I am -an artist,--that is to say, a lover of every perfect form and of all -divine beauty." - -Messire d'Estourville acknowledged the compliment by a decidedly -ungracious contortion of his features; he followed the goldsmith, -however, without outwardly manifesting his ill-humor, but mumbling dire -threats beneath his breath. Cellini, to put the finishing touch to his -mortification, begged him to go over his new abode with him. The -invitation was conveyed in such courteous terms that it was impossible -to decline. The provost therefore accompanied his neighbor, who showed -him no mercy, and left not a corner of the garden nor a room in the -château unvisited. - -"Ah! this is truly magnificent," said Benvenuto when they had finished -the tour of inspection, during which they were actuated by widely -opposed emotions. "Now, Monsieur le Prévôt, I can understand and -excuse your repugnance to give up this property; but I need not say that -you will be most welcome whenever you may choose, as to-day, to do me -the honor of calling upon me in my poor abode." - -"You forget, Monsieur, that I am here to-day for no other purpose than -to listen to your conditions and state my own. I am ready to listen." - -"How so, Messire Robert? On the contrary, I am at your service. But if -you choose to allow me first to make known my wishes to you, you will -then be free to give expression to your own." - -"Say on." - -"First of all, the one essential clause." - -"What is that?" - -"It is this:-- - -"ARTICLE I.--Messire Robert d'Estourville doth concede Benvenuto -Cellini's right to the property called the Grand-Nesle, doth freely -abandon it to him, and doth renounce all claim thereto forever, for -himself and his heirs." - -"Accepted," said the provost. "But if it should please the king to take -from you what he has now taken from me, and to give to some other what -he has now given to you, I am not to be held responsible." - -"Ouais!" said Cellini, "there's some mischievous mental reservation -hidden in that, Monsieur le Prévôt. But no matter; I shall know how to -retain what I have won. Let us pass to the next." - -"'T is my turn," said the provost. - -"That is no more than fair." - -"ARTICLE II.--Benvenuto Cellini agrees to make no attack upon the -Petit-Nesle, which is and is to remain the property of Robert -d'Estourville; furthermore, he will not even attempt to gain a footing -there as a neighbor, and under the guise of friendship." - -"Very good," said Benvenuto, "although the clause is by no means -conceived in kindness; but if the door is thrown open to me I shall not -show myself so devoid of courtesy as to refuse to enter." - -"I will give orders to avert that possibility," retorted the provost. - -"Let us to the next." - -"I continue:-- - -"ARTICLE III.--The first courtyard, between the Grand and Petit Nesles, -shall be common to both estates." - -"That is quite right," said Benvenuto, "and you will do me the justice -to believe that if Mademoiselle Colombe desires to go out, I shall not -keep her a prisoner." - -"Oh! never fear: my daughter will go in and out by a door which I -undertake to have cut in the wall. I simply wish to make sure of an -entrance for carriages and wagons." - -"Is that all?" - -"Yes," replied Messire Robert. "Apropos," he added, "I trust that you -will allow me to remove my furniture." - -"That is no more than fair. Your furniture is yours, as the Grand-Nesle -is mine. Now, Messire le Prévôt, let us add one more clause to the -treaty,--a clause purely benevolent in its purpose." - -"State it." - -"ARTICLE IV. and last.--Messire Robert d'Estourville and Benvenuto -Cellini lay aside all ill will, and loyally and sincerely agree to abide -in peace." - -"I accept the article, but only in so far as it does not bind me to bear -aid to you against those who may attack you. I agree to do nothing to -injure you, but I do not agree to make myself agreeable to you." - -"As to that, Monsieur le Prévôt, you know perfectly well that I can -defend myself alone, do you not? If there is no objection now on your -part," added Cellini, passing the pen to him, "sign, Monsieur le -Prévôt, sign." "I will sign," said the provost, suiting the action to -the word, and each of the contracting parties retained a copy of the -treaty. - -This formality at an end, Messire d'Estourville returned to the -Petit-Nesle, being in great haste to scold poor Colombe for her rash -expedition. Colombe hung her head, and let him say what he chose, not -hearing a single word of his reproaches; for during all the time that -they endured the girl was engrossed by a single longing, to ask her -father for news of Ascanio. But it was useless: try as hard as she -would, she could not force the wounded youth's name beyond her lips. - -While these things were taking place on one side of the wall, on the -other side, Catherine, who had been sent for from the church, made her -entry into the Grand-Nesle; the fascinating madcap threw herself into -Benvenuto's arms, pressed Ascanio's hand, complimented Hermann, made -sport of Pagolo, laughed, wept, sang, asked questions, all in the same -breath. She had suffered terribly, for the reports of fire-arms had -reached her ears and interrupted her prayers again and again. But now -everything was all right, everybody had come out safe and sound from the -battle, save four dead and three wounded men, and Scozzone's high -spirits did homage to both victory and victors. - -When the uproar caused by Catherine's arrival had subsided in some -measure, Ascanio remembered the motive which brought the student to the -spot so opportunely. He turned to Benvenuto and said:-- - -"Master, my comrade Jacques Aubry and I were to try our hands at a game -of tennis to-day. In good sooth, I am hardly in condition to be his -partner, as our friend Hermann says. He has assisted us so gallantly in -our undertaking, however, that I venture to beg you to take my place." - -"With all my heart," said Benvenuto; "but you must look to yourself, -Master Jacques Aubry." - -"I will try, I will try, Messire." - -"We shall sup together afterward, and you know that the victor will be -expected to drink two bottles more than his vanquished opponent." - -"Which means that I shall be carried home dead drunk, Master Benvenuto. -_Vive la joie!_ this suits me. Ah! the devil! there's Simonne waiting -for me, too! Pshaw! I had to wait for her last Sunday. It's her turn -to-day, so much the worse for her." - -With that the two seized balls and rackets, and hied them to the garden. - - - - -XI - - -OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES - - -As this was the blessed Sabbath day, Benvenuto did nothing more than -play tennis, rest after playing, and inspect his new property. But on -the following day the work of moving began, and was fully completed two -days later, by virtue of the assistance of his new companions. On the -third day Benvenuto resumed his modelling as calmly as if nothing had -happened. - -When the provost realized that he was definitively vanquished, when he -learned that Benvenuto's studio, tools, and workmen were actually -installed at the Grand-Nesle, rage took possession of him once more, and -he began to plot and plan for vengeance. He was in one of his most -wrathful moments when the Vicomte de Marmagne surprised him on the -morning of this same third day, Wednesday. Marmagne could not resist the -longing to gratify his vanity by triumphing over the sorrows and -reverses of his friends, as every man who is a coward and an idiot loves -to do. - -"Well!" he said, "I told you so, my dear Provost." - -"Ah! is it you, Viscount? Good morning." - -"Well! was I right or wrong?" - -"Alas! right. Are you well?" - -"At all events I have no reason to reproach myself in this accursed -business. I gave you sufficient warning." - -"Has the king returned to the Louvre?" - -"'Nonsense!' you said; 'a workman, a nobody, a fine sight it will be!' -You have seen it, my poor friend." - -"I asked you if his Majesty has returned from Fontainebleau?" - -"Yes, and he keenly regrets not having reached Paris on Sunday, in order -to look on from one of his towers at his goldsmith's victory over his -provost." - -"What is said at court?" - -"Why, they say that you were thoroughly whipped." - -"Hum!" said the provost, who began to be annoyed by this desultory -conversation. - -"How was it? Did he really give you such an ignominious whipping?" - -"Why--" - -"He killed two of your men, did he not?" - -"I think so." - -"If you wish to replace them, I have two Italian bravos, consummate -fighting-men, who are quite at your service. You will have to pay them -well, but they are sure men." - -"We shall see: I won't say no. If not for myself, I may require them for -my son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec." - -"Whatever they may say, I cannot believe that this Benvenuto cudgelled -you personally." - -"Who says so?" - -"Everybody. Some are indignant, like myself; others laugh, like the -king." - -"Enough! we have not seen the end of this affair." - -"Ah! you were very wrong to compromise yourself with such a clown, and -for such a paltry affair!" - -"I shall fight for my honor henceforth." - -"If there had been a woman in the affair, why, you might properly have -drawn your sword against such people: but for a mere place to sleep -in--" - -"The Hôtel de Nesle is a place for princes to sleep in." - -"Agreed; but even so, think of exposing yourself for such a matter to be -chastised by a blackguard!" - -"Ah! I have an idea, Marmagne," said the provost. "Parbleu! you are so -devoted to me that I long to render you a friendly service, and I am -delighted to have the opportunity now. For a nobleman, and secretary to -the king, you are wretchedly located on Rue de la Huchette, my dear -Viscount. Now I recently requested for a friend of mine, from the -Duchesse d'Etampes, who refuses nothing that I ask, apartments in such -one of the king's palaces as my friend might select. I obtained the -privilege for him, not without difficulty, but it so happens that he has -been called to Spain on urgent business. I have therefore at my disposal -the document signed by the king containing this grant of apartments. I -cannot make use of it myself; will you have it? I should be happy to -acknowledge thus your services and your generous friendship." - -"Dear D'Estourville, how can I ever repay you? It is quite true that I -am living in very unsuitable quarters, and I have complained to the king -a score of times." - -"I shall insist upon one condition." - -"What is that?" - -"That, inasmuch as you are at liberty to take your choice among all the -royal hotels, you will choose--" - -"Go on, I am waiting." - -"The Hôtel de Nesle." - -"Aha! you were laying a trap for me." - -"Not at all; and to show you that I am speaking seriously, here is the -document, duly signed by his Majesty, with the necessary blanks for the -name of the beneficiary, and of the place selected. I will write the -Hôtel du Grand-Nesle, and leave you to insert such names as you -choose." - -"But this damned Benvenuto?" - -"Is entirely off his guard, relying upon a treaty we entered into and -signed. Whoever cares to enter will find the doors open, and if on a -Sunday he will find the rooms empty. In any event, it's not a matter of -turning Benvenuto out, but simply of sharing the Grand-Nesle with him; -for it is quite large enough for three or four families. Benvenuto will -hear reason.--Well! what are you doing now?" - -"I am writing my names and titles in the grant. Do you see?" - -"Beware! Benvenuto is more to be feared than you think." - -"Bah! I will take my two fire-eaters and surprise him some Sunday." - -"What! compromise yourself with a clown for such a trifling matter?" - -"A victor is always right; and then, too, I shall be avenging a friend." - -"Good luck to you then; I have given you fair warning, Marmagne." - -"Thanks twice over,--once for the gift and once for the warning." - -And Marmagne, delighted beyond measure, thrust the precious paper in his -pocket, and set out in all haste to make sure of his two bravos. - -"Very good!" said Messire d'Estourville, rubbing his hands and looking -after him. "Go on, Viscount, and one of two things will come of -it,--either you will avenge me for Benvenuto's victory, or Benvenuto -will avenge me for your sarcasm, in any case, I shall be the gainer. I -make my enemies of each other; let them fight and kill; I will -applaud every blow on either side, for all will be equally gratifying to -me." - -Let us now cross the Seine and look in upon the occupants of the -Grand-Nesle, and see how they were employing their time, pending the -results of the provost's militant hatred. - -Benvenuto, in the tranquil confidence of conscious strength, had quietly -resumed the work he had in hand, without suspecting or caring for -Messire d'Estourville's animosity. His day was divided thus. He rose at -daybreak, and went at once to a small, isolated room that he had -discovered in the garden, above the foundry, with a window from which -one could look obliquely into the flower garden of the Petit-Nesle; -there he worked during the forenoon upon the model of a small statue of -Hebe. After dinner, that is to say, at one o'clock in the afternoon, he -went to the studio and worked at his Jupiter; in the evening, for -relaxation, he played a game of tennis, or went for a walk. - -Now let us see how Catherine employed her time. She sewed and sang and -ran hither and thither, instinct with joyous life, much more at her ease -in the Grand-Nesle than at the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace. - -Ascanio, whose wound made it impossible for him to work, did not find -the time irksome, notwithstanding the activity of his mind, for he was -dreaming. - -If now, availing ourselves of the thief's privilege of climbing walls, -we enter the Petit-Nesle, this is what we shall see there. In the first -place, Colombe, in her chamber, dreaming like Ascanio. We beg leave to -pause here for the moment; all that we can say is, that, while Ascanio's -dreams were rose-colored, poor Colombe's were black as night. And then -here is Dame Perrine just setting out to market, and we must, if you -please, follow her for an instant. - -For a long time--so at least it seems to us--we have lost sight of the -good dame; indeed, it must be said that courage was not her -predominating virtue, and amid the perilous encounters we have described -she had purposely kept herself out of sight. But when peace began to -bloom once more, the roses reappeared in her cheeks, and as Benvenuto -resumed his artistic labors she peaceably resumed her joyous humor, her -chattering, her gossip's inquisitiveness,--in a word, the practice of -all the excellent housewifely qualities. - -Dame Perrine on her way to market was obliged to pass across the common -courtyard, for the new door for the Petit-Nesle was not yet made. Now it -happened, by the merest chance, that Ruperta, Benvenuto's old -maid-servant, was setting out at precisely the same moment to purchase -her master's dinner. These two estimable individuals were much too well -suited to each other to share the antipathies of their masters; so they -walked along together on the best possible terms, and, as talking -shortens the longest road by half, they talked. - -Ruperta began by inquiring of Dame Perrine the price of various -articles, and the names of the dealers in the quarter: from that they -passed to more interesting subjects. - -"Is your master such a terrible man?" queried Dame Perrine. - -"Terrible! when you don't offend him he is as gentle as a Jesus; but, -dame! when one doesn't do as he wishes, I must say that he's not very -agreeable. He is fond, oh! very fond, of having his own way. That's his -mania; and when he once gets a thing in his head, all the five hundred -thousand devils in hell can't drive if out. But you can lead him like a -child by pretending to obey him, and it's very pleasant to hear him -talk. You should hear him say to me, 'Dame Ruperta,' (he calls me -Ruperta in his strange pronunciation, although my real name is Ruperte, -at your service,) 'Dame Ruperta, this is an excellent leg of mutton, and -done to a turn; Dame Ruperta, your beans are seasoned most triumphantly; -Dame Ruperta, I look upon you as the queen of governesses,'--and all -this so winningly that it touches one to the heart." - -"_À la bonne heure!_ But he kills people, they say." - -"Oh yes! when he's crossed, he kills very handily. It's a custom of his -country; but it's only when he's attacked, and then only in -self-defence. Otherwise he is very light-hearted and prepossessing." - -"I haven't seen him myself. He has red hair, hasn't he?" - -"No indeed! His hair is as black as yours and mine,--as mine was, that -is. All! you have never seen him? Well, just come in casually some time -to borrow something, and I'll show him to you. He's a handsome man, and -would make a superb archer." - -"Apropos of handsome men, how is our comely youth to-day? The wounded -man, I mean, the attractive young apprentice who received such a -terrible wound in saving the provost's life." - -"Ascanio? Pray do you know him?" - -"Do I know him! He promised my young mistress Colombe and myself to show -us his jewels. Remind him of it, if you please, my dear madame. But all -this doesn't answer my question, and Colombe will be very glad to know -that her father's savior is out of danger." - -"Oh! you can tell her that he is doing very well. He got up just now. -But the surgeon has forbidden his leaving his room, although I think a -breath of fresh air would do him a world of good. It's out of the -question, though, in this burning sun. Your Grand-Nesle garden is a -veritable desert. Not a shaded spot anywhere; no vegetation but nettles -and briers, and four or five leafless trees. It's enormous, but very -unpleasant to walk in. Our master consoles himself with tennis, but poor -Ascanio isn't well enough yet to hold a racket, and must be bored to -death. He's so active, the dear boy,--I speak of him in that way because -he's my favorite, and is always courteous to his ciders. He's not like -that bear of a Pagolo, or Catherine the giddy-pate." - -"And you say that the poor fellow--" - -"Must be eating his heart out with having to pass whole days on a couch -in his bedroom." - -"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed kind-hearted Dame Perrine, "pray tell the poor boy -to come over to the Petit-Nesle, where there is such beautiful shade. I -will gladly admit him, although Messire le Prévôt has expressly -forbidden it. Why, it would be most virtuous in me to disobey him, in -order to benefit the man who saved his life. And you talk of ennui! We -are the ones who are drying up with it. The comely apprentice will -divert us; he will tell us tales of his Italy, and show us his necklaces -and bracelets, and chatter with Colombe. Young folks like to be together -and prattle, and they languish in solitude. So it's agreed, isn't it? -Just tell your Benjamin that he's at liberty to come and walk in our -garden whenever he pleases, provided he comes alone, or with you, Dame -Ruperte, to give him your arm. Knock four times, the first three gently -and the last louder: I shall know what it means, and I will come and -open the door." - -"Thanks for Ascanio and myself; I will not fail to tell him of your -amiable offer, and he will not fail to avail himself of it." - -"I am delighted to think so, Dame Ruperte." - -"_Au revoir_, Dame Perrine! Charmed to have made the acquaintance of -such an estimable person." - -"The same to you, Dame Ruperte." - -The two gossips bowed low to each other, and parted with mutual -satisfaction. - -The gardens of the Séjour de Nesle were in truth, as Ruperta said, dry -and scorched on one side of the wall, cool and shady as a forest on the -other. The provost's miserly instinct led him to leave the garden of the -Grand-Nesle uncared for, as the cost of keeping it in condition would -have been considerable, and he was not sufficiently sure of his title to -renew, perhaps for the benefit of his successor, the trees which he had -lost no time in cutting down as soon as he took possession. His -daughter's presence at the Petit-Nesle accounted for his leaving the -shady thickets there untouched, as the poor child had no other -recreation than to sit beneath them. Raimbault and his two assistants -sufficed to keep Colombe's garden in order, and even to embellish it -somewhat. - -It was laid out and planted in extremely good taste. At the back was the -kitchen garden, Dame Perrine's kingdom; along the wall dividing it from -the Grand-Nesle Colombe had her flower garden, called by Dame Perrine -the Morning Avenue, because the sun's early rays fell full upon it, and -sunrise was the time ordinarily selected by Colombe to water her -marguerites and roses. Let us note, in passing, that from the room over -the foundry in the Grand-Nesle one could see every movement of the -lovely gardener without being seen. Following out Dame Perrine's -geographical nomenclature, there was the Noonday Avenue, terminated by a -thicket where Colombe loved to sit, and read or embroider, during the -beat of the day. At the other end of the garden was the Evening Avenue, -planted with a triple row of lindens, which made it delightfully cool -and fresh: it was here that Colombe was accustomed to walk after supper. - -This last named avenue Dame Perrine had in mind as a spot well adapted -to hasten the convalescence of the wounded Ascanio. She was very -careful, however, to say nothing to Colombe of her charitable -intentions. It was possible that she would be too obedient to her -father's commands, and would refuse to concur in her governess's open -defiance of them. And in that case what would Dame Ruperta think of her -neighbor's authority and influence? No; since she had gone so far, -perhaps a little recklessly, she must go on to the end. Indeed, the good -woman's offence was excusable when we reflect that she had no one but -Colombe to whom she could speak from morning till night, and more often -than not Colombe was so deeply absorbed in her own thoughts that she did -not reply. - -The reader will readily understand Ascanio's ecstasy when he learned -that paradise was open to him, and how fervently he blessed Ruperta. He -insisted upon availing himself of his good fortune on the instant, and -Ruperta had all the difficulty in the world in persuading him that he -ought at least to wait until evening. He had every reason to believe -that Dame Perrine's suggestion was made with Colombe's sanction, and -that thought made him mad with joy. With how great impatience, -therefore, mingled with vague alarm, did he count the dragging hours! At -last, at last, the clock struck five. The apprentices left the studio. -Benvenuto had been away since noon, and was believed to have gone to the -Louvre. - -Thereupon Ruperta said solemnly to the apprentice, who gazed at her as -she had not been gazed at for many a year:-- - -"Now that the time has come, follow me, young man." - -They crossed the courtyard together, and she knocked four times at the -door leading into the precincts of the Petit-Nesle. - -"Say nothing of this to the master, good Ruperta," said Ascanio, who -knew that Cellini was a good deal of a scoffer and sceptic in the matter -of love, and did not choose to have his pure flame profaned by his -witticisms. - -Ruperta was on the point of making inquiries as to the reason for this -injunction, which it would be hard for her to obey, when the door opened -and Dame Perrine appeared. - -"Come in, my fine fellow," she said. "How are you to-day? Pallor becomes -you, do you know: it's a pleasure to look at you. Come in also, Dame -Ruperta: take the path to the left, young man, Colombe is just coming -down to the garden; it's the time when she always walks. Do you try and -persuade her not to scold me too severely for admitting you." - -"What!" cried Ascanio,--"Mademoiselle Colombe doesn't know--" - -"No indeed! Do you think she would have consented to disobey her father? -I have brought her up on correct principles. I disobeyed for both, -myself. Faith! I don't care! we can't always live like hermits. -Raimbault won't see anything, or, if he does, I have a way to make him -hold his tongue; if worse comes to worst, it won't be the first time I -have held my own against Monsieur le Prévôt!" - -Dame Perrine was very loquacious concerning her master, but Ruperta -alone followed her in what she said. Ascanio was standing still, -listening to nothing save the beating of Ids heart. He did, however, -hear these words, let fall by Dame Perrine as they moved away:-- - -"This is the path where Colombe walks every evening, and she will soon -be here without doubt. You see that the sun won't reach you here, my -gallant invalid." - -Ascanio expressed his thanks with a gesture, and walked forward a few -steps, once more immersed in his reverie, and anticipating what was to -come with mingled anxiety and impatience. He heard Dame Perrine say to -Ruperta as they walked along,-- - -"This is Colombe's favorite bench." - -And upon that he left the two gossips to continue their walk and their -conversation, and sat softly down without a word upon the sacred seat. - -What was his purpose? whither was he going? He had no idea. He sought -Colombe because she was young and fair, and he was young and fair. No -ambitious thought had ever entered his head in connection with her. To -be near her was his only desire: for the rest he put his trust in God, -or, rather, he did not look so far into the future. There is no -to-morrow in love. - -Colombe, for her part, had thought more than once, and in spite of -herself, of the young stranger who had appeared to her in her loneliness -as Gabriel appeared to Mary. To see him once more had been from the -first the secret desire of this child, who had hitherto had no desire. -But, being abandoned by an inconsiderate father to the guardianship of -her own virtue, she was too high-minded not to deal with herself with -the severity which noble souls never think themselves free to dispense -with unless their will is fettered. She therefore bravely put aside her -thoughts of Ascanio, and yet those thoughts persisted in forcing a way -through the triple ramparts Colombe had built around her heart, more -easily than Ascanio made his way through the wall of the Grand-Nesle. So -it was that Colombe had passed the three or four days since the -engagement, alternating between the fear of not seeing Ascanio again, -and alarm at the thought of being in his presence. Her only consolation -was to dream of him as she sat at her work or walked in the garden. -During the day she shut herself up in her own room, to the despair of -Dame Perrine, who was thereby doomed to carry on a perpetual monologue -in the abyss of her own thoughts. As soon as the intense heat of the day -had gone by, she would go down to the cool, shady path, poetically -christened by Dame Perrine the Evening Avenue, and there, sitting on the -bench where Ascanio now sat, she would allow the sun to set and the -stars to rise, listening and replying to her thoughts, until Dame -Perrine came to tell her that it was time to retire. - -At the usual hour, then, the young man saw Colombe suddenly appear, book -in hand, at the end of the path where he was sitting. She was reading -the "Lives of the Saints," a dangerous romance of faith and love, well -adapted, perhaps, to prepare one for the cruel sufferings of life, but -not, surely, for the cold realities of the world. Colombe did not see -Ascanio at first, but started back in surprise when she saw a strange -woman with Dame Perrine. At that decisive moment, Dame Perrine, like a -determined general, plunged boldly to the heart of the question. - -"Dear Colombe," she said, "I know your kind heart so well that I didn't -think I needed your express sanction to allow a poor wounded youth, who -received his wound in your father's cause, to come and take the air -under these trees. You know there is no shade at the Grand-Nesle, and -the surgeon won't answer for his life unless he can walk an hour every -day." - -While she was uttering this well intentioned but barefaced falsehood, -Colombe suddenly spied Ascanio, and a vivid flush suffused her cheeks. -The apprentice, meanwhile, in the presence of Colombe, could hardly -summon strength to rise to his feet. - -"It wasn't my sanction that was necessary, Dame Perrine," said the -maiden at last, "but my father's." - -As she said these words, sadly but firmly, Colombe reached the stone -bench upon which Ascanio had been sitting. - -He overheard her, and said, with clasped hands:-- - -"Forgive me, Madame. I thought--I hoped that your kindness had ratified -Dame Perrine's courteous offer; but if it is not so," he continued, in a -tone of great gentleness, not unmixed with pride, "I beg you to excuse -my involuntary boldness, and I will withdraw at once." - -"But it is not for me to decide," replied Colombe hastily, deeply moved. -"I am not mistress here. Remain to-day at all events, even if my -father's prohibition was meant to extend to him who saved his life: -remain, Monsieur, if for nothing else than to receive my thanks." - -"O Madame!" murmured Ascanio, "it is for me to thank you, and I do so -from the bottom of my heart. But by remaining shall I not interfere with -your walk? The place I have taken, too, is ill chosen." - -"Not at all," rejoined Colombe mechanically, without apparently paying -attention, so embarrassed was she, to the other end of the stone bench. - -At that moment Dame Perrine, who had not stirred since Colombe's -mortifying reprimand, growing weary of her own immobility and her young -mistress's silence, took Dame Ruperta's arm and walked softly away. - -The young people were left alone. - -Colombe, whose eyes were fixed upon her book, did not at first observe -the departure of her governess, and yet she was not reading, for there -was a mist before her eyes. She was still excited and dizzy. All that -she was capable of doing, and that she did instinctively, was to conceal -her agitation, and repress the violent beating of her heart. Ascanio, -too, was beside himself; he was excessively pained when he thought that -Colombe desired to send him away, and insanely happy when he fancied -that he could detect signs of emotion in his inamorata; and these sudden -alternations of emotion in his enfeebled state transported and unnerved -him at the same time. He was like one in a swoon, and yet his thoughts -followed upon one another's heels with astounding rapidity and force. -"She despises me! she loves me!" he said to himself almost in the same -breath. He glanced at Colombe, silent and still, and the tears rolled -down his cheeks, although he felt them not. Meanwhile a bird was singing -in the branches overhead; the leaves were scarcely stirring in the -gentle breeze. From the Augustine church the evening Angelus came -floating softly downward through the air. Never was July evening more -calm and peaceful. It was one of Nature's solemn moments, when the soul -enters a new sphere,--one of those moments which seem twenty years, and -which one remembers all his life. - -The two lovely children, so well suited to each other, had but to move -their hands to join them, and yet it seemed as if there were a yawning -gulf between them. - -After a moment or two Colombe raised her head:-- - -"You are weeping!" she cried, obeying an impulse stronger than her will. - -"I am not weeping," said Ascanio, falling back upon the bench; but his -hands were wet with tears when he took them from his face. - -"It is true," he said, "I am weeping." - -"Why, what is the matter? I will call some one. Are you in pain?" - -"Only from my thoughts." - -"What thoughts, pray?" - -"I was thinking that perhaps it would have been better for me to die the -other day." - -"Die! How old are you, pray, that you should talk thus of dying?" - -"Nineteen: but the age of unhappiness is a fit age for death." - -"And what of your kindred, who would weep for you?" said Colombe, -unconsciously eager for a glimpse into the past of this life, of which -she had a confused feeling that the future would be involved with her -own. - -"I have no father or mother, and there is no one to weep for me save my -master, Benvenuto." - -"Poor orphan!" - -"Yes, an orphan indeed! My father never loved me, and I lost my mother -at ten years, just when I was beginning to understand her love and -return it. My father--But what am I saying, and what are my father and -my mother to you?" - -"Oh, yes! Go on, Ascanio." - -"Saints in heaven! you remember my name!" - -"Go on, go on," whispered Colombe, putting her hands before her face to -hide her blushes. - -"My father was a goldsmith, and my dear mother was herself the daughter -of a Florentine goldsmith, named Raphael del Moro, of a noble Italian -family; for in our Italian republics, to work implies no dishonor, and -you will see more than one ancient and illustrious name on the sign of a -shop. My master, Cellini, for example, is as noble as the King of -France, if not even more so. Raphael del Moro, who was poor, compelled -his daughter Stefana to marry, against her will, a fellow goldsmith -almost of his own age, but very wealthy. Alas! my mother and Benvenuto -Cellini loved each other, but were both fortuneless. Benvenuto was -travelling everywhere to make a name for himself and earn money. He was -far away, and could not interfere to prevent the marriage. Gismondo -Gaddi (that was my father's name) soon began to detest his wife because -she did not love him, although he never knew that she loved somebody -else. My father was a man of a violent and jealous disposition. May he -forgive me if I accuse him wrongfully, but children have a relentless -memory for their wrongs. Very often my mother sought shelter by my -cradle from his brutal treatment, but he did not always respect that -sanctuary. Sometimes he struck her, may God forgive him! while she held -me in her arms: and at every blow my mother would give me a kiss to help -deaden the pain. Ah! I remember well both the blows my mother received -and the kisses she gave me. - -"The Lord, who is just, dealt a blow at my father where he would feel it -most keenly,--in his wealth, which was dearer to him than anything else -in the world. Disaster after disaster overwhelmed him. He died of grief -because his money was all gone, and my mother died a few days after, -because she thought that she was no longer beloved. - -"I was left alone in the world. My father's creditors laid hands upon -all that he left, and, in all their ferreting to make sure that they had -forgotten nothing, they failed to discover a little weeping child. An -old maid-servant who was fond of me kept me two days from charity, but -she was living on charity herself, and had none too much bread for her -own needs. - -"She was uncertain what to do with me, when a man covered with dust -entered the room, took me in his arms, embraced me, weeping, and, having -given the good old woman some money, took me away with him. It was -Benvenuto Cellini, who had come from Rome to Florence expressly to find -me. He cherished me, instructed me in his art, and kept me always with -him, and, as I say he is the only one who would weep for my death." - -Colombe listened with lowered eyes and oppressed heart to the orphan's -story, which in the matter of loneliness was her own, and to the story -of the poor mother's life, which would perhaps be hers some day; for she -too was doomed to marry against her will a man who would hate her -because she would not love him. - -"You are unjust to God," she said to Ascanio; "there is some one, your -kind master at least, who loves you, and you knew your mother. I cannot -remember my mother's kisses, for she died in giving birth to me. I was -brought up by my father's sister, a crabbed, ill-tempered woman, and yet -I mourned her bitterly when I lost her two years ago, for in the absence -of any other affection my heart clung to her as ivy clings to a cliff. -For two years I have been living in this place with Dame Perrine, and -notwithstanding my loneliness, and although my father comes very rarely -to see me, these two years have been and will be the happiest of my -whole life." - -"You have indeed suffered much," said Ascanio, "but though the past has -been so painful, why do you dread the future? Yours, alas! is full of -glorious promise. You are nobly born, rich, and beautiful, and the -shadow of your early years will only bring out in bolder relief the -splendor of the rest of your life." - -Colombe sadly shook her head. - -"Oh mother! mother!" she murmured. - -When, rising in thought above the paltry present, one loses sight of the -trivial necessities of the moment in the brilliant flashes which -illuminate and epitomize a whole life, past and future, the heart is -sometimes affected with a dangerous vertigo; and when one's memory is -laden with a thousand sorrows, when one dreads bitter anguish to come, -the same heart is often a prey to terrible emotion and fatal weakness. -One must be very strong not to fall when the weight of destiny is -pressing down upon one's heart. These two children, who had already -suffered so much, who had been always alone, had but to pronounce a -single word to make a single future for their twofold past; but one was -too dutiful, the other too respectful, to pronounce that word. - -Ascanio gazed at Colombe, however, with infinite tenderness in his eyes, -and Colombe permitted his scrutiny with divine trust. With clasped -hands, and in the tone in which he might have prayed, the apprentice -said to the maiden:-- - -"Colombe, if you have any desire which I can gratify by pouring out all -my blood to gratify it, if any disaster threatens you, and nothing more -than a life is needed to avert it, say one word to me, Colombe, as you -might say it to your brother, and I shall be very happy." - -"Thanks, thanks!" said Colombe; "I know that you have already nobly -risked your life once at a word from me; but God alone can save me this -time." - -She had no time to say more, for Dame Perrine and Dame Ruperta stopped -in front of them at that moment. - -The gossips had made the most of their time, as well as the two lovers, -and had formed a close alliance, based upon mutual sympathy. Dame -Perrine had confided to Dame Ruperta an infallible cure for chilblains, -and Dame Ruperta, not to be outdone, had imparted to Dame Perrine the -secret of preserving plums. After such an exchange of confidence, it is -easy to understand that they were thenceforth united for life and death, -and they had agreed to meet frequently, whatever the cost. - -"Well, Colombe," said Dame Perrine, as they drew nigh the bench, "do you -still bear me a grudge? Tell me, wouldn't it have been a shame to -refuse admission to him but for whom the house would have no master? -Shouldn't we do our utmost to help cure this youth of a wound received -for us? Look, Dame Ruperta, and see if he doesn't already look better, -and if he hasn't more color than when he came." - -"Yes indeed," assented Ruperta, "he never had more color when he was in -the best of health." - -"Consider, Colombe," continued Dame Perrine, "it would be downright -murder to interrupt convalescence so happily begun. Come, the end -justifies the means. You will allow me to admit him to-morrow at dusk, -won't you? It will be a pleasant change for you as well, poor child, and -a very innocent one, God knows, when Dame Ruperta and I are both here. -Upon my word, Colombe, you need some sort of a change. And who is there -to tell the provost that we have softened his stern orders a bit? And -remember that, before he gave the order, you told Ascanio that he might -come and show you his jewels; he forgot them to-day, so he must bring -them to-morrow." - -Colombe looked at Ascanio; the color had fled from his cheeks, and he -was awaiting her reply in an agony of suspense. - -In the eyes of a poor girl, kept a prisoner and tyrannized over, there -was a world of flattery in this humility. There was then some one in the -world whose happiness depended upon her, whom she could make glad or sad -with a word! Every one exults in his own power. The insolent airs of -Comte d'Orbec had humiliated Colombe very recently. The hapless -prisoner--forgive her, pray!--could not resist the longing to see the -joyful light shine in Ascanio's eyes, so she said, with a blush and a -smile,-- - -"Dame Perrine, what is this you have persuaded me to do?" - -Ascanio tried to speak, but could only clasp his hands effusively; his -knees trembled under him. - -"Thanks, fair lady!" said Ruperta, with a deep courtesy. "Come, Ascanio, -you are still weak, and it is time to go in. Give me your arm, and let -us go." - -The apprentice could hardly muster strength to say "Adieu" and "Thanks!" -but he supplemented his words with a look in which his heart spoke -volumes, and meekly followed the servant, his whole being overflowing -with joy. - -Colombe fell back upon the bench, absorbed in thought, and conscious of -a pleasurable excitement, for which she reproached herself, and which -was entirely unfamiliar to her. - -"Until to-morrow!" said Dame Perrine, triumphantly, as she took leave -of her guests after escorting them to the door; "if you choose, young -man, you can come in this way every day for three months." - -"And why for three months only?" asked Ascanio, who had dreamed of -coming always. - -"Dame!" was Dame Perrine's reply, "because in three months Colombe is to -marry Comte d'Orbec." - -Ascanio needed all the strength of his will to keep from falling. - -"Colombe to marry Comte d'Orbec!" he muttered. "O mon Dieu! mon Dieu! so -I deceived myself! Colombe does not love me!" - -As Dame Perrine closed the door behind him at that moment, and Dame -Ruperta was walking in front of him, neither of them overheard. - - - - -XII - - -THE KING'S QUEEN - - -We have said that Benvenuto left the studio about noon without saying -whither he was going. He went to the Louvre to return the visit -François I. paid him at the Cardinal of Ferrara's hotel. - -The king had kept his word. The name of Benvenuto Cellini was given to -all the doorkeepers and ushers, and all the doors flew open before -him,--all the doors save one, that leading to the council chamber. -François was discussing affairs of state with the first men in his -realm, and, although the king's orders were explicit, they dared not -introduce Cellini in the midst of the momentous session then in progress -without further instructions from his Majesty. - -In truth, France was at this time in a critical situation. We have thus -far said but little of affairs of state, feeling sure that our readers, -especially those of the gentler sex, would prefer affairs of the heart -to politics; but we have at last reached a point where we can no longer -draw back, and where we must needs cast a glance, which we will make as -brief as possible, at France and Spain, or rather at François I. and -Charles V., for in the sixteenth century kings were nations. - -At the period at which we have arrived, by virtue of one of the -periodical movements of the political see-saw, of which both so often -felt the effects, François's situation had recently improved, and -Charles's grown worse in equal degree. In fact, things had changed -materially since the Treaty of Cambrai, which was negotiated by two -women, Margaret of Austria, aunt of Charles V., and the Duchesse -d'Angoulême, mother of François I. This treaty, which was the -complement of the treaty of Madrid, provided that the King of Spain -should cede Burgundy to the King of France, and that the King of France -should renounce his claim to the homage of Flanders and Artois. -Furthermore, the two young princes, who served as hostages for their -father, were to be sent back to him in exchange for the sum of two -millions of golden crowns. Lastly, good Queen Eleanora, Charles V.'s -sister, who was promised at first to the Constable (Bourbon) as a reward -for his treachery, and was afterwards married to François as a pledge -of peace, was to return to the court of France with the two children, to -whom she had been as affectionate and devoted as any mother. These -stipulations were carried out with equal good faith on both sides. - -But it will readily be believed that François's renunciation of his -claim to the Duchy of Milan, exacted from him during his captivity, was -only momentary. He was no sooner a free man once more, no sooner -restored to power and health, than he turned his eyes again toward -Italy. It was with the object of procuring countenance of his claims at -the Court of Rome that he had married his son Henri, become Dauphin by -the death of his elder brother François, to Catherine de Medicis, niece -of Pope Clement VII. - -Unfortunately, just at the moment when all the preparations for the -king's meditated invasion were completed, Clement VII. died, and was -succeeded by Alexander Farnese, who ascended the throne of St. Peter -under the name of Paul III. - -Now Paul III. was determined not to allow himself to be inveigled into -supporting the party of the Emperor, or of the King of France, but to -adhere strictly to the policy of holding an equal balance between them. - -With his mind at ease in that direction, the Emperor laid aside all -anxiety on the subject of the preparations of France, and busied himself -fitting out an expedition against Tunis, which had been seized by the -corsair Cher-Eddin, so famous under the name of Barbarossa, who, having -driven out Muley Hassan, had taken possession of the country, and was -laying Sicily waste. - -The expedition was entirely successful, and Charles V., after destroying -three or four ships, sailed into the Bay of Naples in triumph. - -There he received tidings which tended to encourage him still more. -Charles III., Duke of Savoy, although he was the maternal uncle of -François I., had followed the counsel of his new wife, Beatrice, -daughter of Emmanuel of Portugal, and had abandoned the party of the -King of France; so that when François, by virtue of his former treaties -with Charles III., called upon him to receive his troops, the Duke of -Savoy answered by refusing to do so, and François was reduced to the -unenviable necessity of forcing the passage of the Alps, which he had -hoped to find open to him by favor of his ally and kinsman. - -But Charles X. was awakened from his feeling of security by a veritable -thunder-clap. The king marched an army into Savoy so promptly that the -duke found his province actually under occupation by the French troops -before he suspected that it was invaded. Biron, who was in command of -the army, seized Chambéry, appeared upon the Alpine passes, and -threatened Piedmont just as Francesco Sforza, terror-stricken doubtless -by the news of Biron's success, died suddenly, leaving the Duchy of -Milan without an heir, and thereby not only making its conquest an easy -matter for François, but giving him a strong claim to it as well. - -Biron marched down into Italy, and seized Turin. There he halted, -pitched his camp on the banks of the Sesia, and awaited developments. - -Charles V. meanwhile had left Naples for Rome. The victory he had won -over the long time enemies of Christ procured him the honor of a -triumphal entry into the capital of Christendom. This entry intoxicated -the Emperor to such a point, that, contrary to his custom, he went -beyond all bounds, and in full consistory accused François I. of -heresy, basing the accusation upon the protection he accorded the -Protestants, and upon his alliance with the Turks. Having recapitulated -all their former causes of disagreement, wherein, according to his view, -François was always the first at fault, he swore to wage a war of -extermination against his brother-in-law. - -His disasters in the past had made François as prudent as he formerly -was reckless. And so, as soon as he found himself threatened at one time -by the forces of Spain and of the Empire, he left D'Annebaut to guard -Turin, and called Biron back to France, with orders to devote himself -entirely to protecting the frontiers. - -Those who were familiar with the chivalrous and enterprising character -of François were at a loss to understand this retrograde movement, and -supposed from his taking one backward step that he considered himself -whipped in advance. This belief still further exalted the pride of -Charles V.; he took command of his army in person, and resolved upon -invading France from the south. - -The results of this attempted invasion are well known. Marseilles, which -had held out against the Connétable de Bourbon and the Marquis of -Pescara, the two greatest soldiers of the time, had no difficulty in -holding out against Charles V., a great politician, but of only moderate -capacity as a general. Charles was not discouraged, but left Marseilles -behind, and attempted to march upon Avignon; but Montmorency had -constructed an impregnable camp between the Durance and the Rhone, -against which Charles expended his force to no purpose. So that, after -six weeks of fruitless endeavor, repulsed in front, harassed upon the -flanks, and in great danger of having his retreat cut off, he ordered a -retreat which strongly resembled a rout, and, having narrowly escaped -falling into his enemy's hands, succeeded with great difficulty in -reaching Barcelona, where he arrived without men or money. - -Thereupon all those who were awaiting the issue of his expedition to -declare themselves declared against Charles V. Henry VIII. cast off his -wife, Catherine of Aragon, in order to espouse his mistress, Anne -Boleyn. Soliman attacked the kingdom of Naples and Hungary. The -Protestant princes of Germany entered into a secret league against the -Emperor. Lastly, the people of Ghent, weary of the incessant burdens -imposed upon them to defray the expense of the war against France, -suddenly rose in revolt, and sent ambassadors to François to invite him -to place himself at their head. - -But amid this universal upheaval, which threatened to destroy the -Emperor's fortunes, new negotiations were entered upon by the King of -France and himself. The two monarchs had an interview at Aigues-Mortes, -and François, bent upon peace, which he felt to be an absolute -necessity for France, was determined thenceforth to rely upon friendly -negotiations to effect his objects, and not upon an armed struggle. - -He therefore caused Charles to be informed of the proposition of the men -of Ghent, offering him at the same time liberty to pass through France -on his way to Flanders. - -The council had been called together to discuss this subject, when -Benvenuto knocked at the door, and François, true to his promise, as -soon as he was advised of the great artist's presence, ordered that he -be admitted. Benvenuto therefore heard the end of the discussion. - -"Yes, messieurs," François was saying, "yes, I agree with Monsieur de -Montmorency, and it is my dream to conclude a lasting alliance with the -Emperor elect, to raise our two thrones above all the rest of -Christendom, and to wipe out all these corporations, communes, and -popular assemblies which assume to set bounds to our royal power by -refusing us to-day the arms, to-morrow the money, of our subjects. My -dream is to force back into the bosom of the true religion all the -heresies which distress our holy Mother Church. My dream is, lastly, to -unite all our forces against the enemies of Christ, to drive the Turkish -Sultan from Constantinople, were it only to prove that he is not, as he -is alleged to be, my ally, and to establish at Constantinople a second -empire rivalling the first in power, in splendor, and in extent. That is -my dream, messieurs, and I have given it that name so that I may not -allow myself to be unduly exalted by hope of success, nor unduly cast -down if the future shall demonstrate, as it may, its impracticability. -But if it should be fulfilled, constable, if it should be fulfilled, if -I were to have France and Turkey, Paris and Constantinople, the Occident -and the Orient, confess, messieurs, that it would be grand,--that it -would be sublime!" - -"I understand, then, Sire," said the Duc de Guise, "that it is -definitely decided that you decline the suzerainty proffered you by the -Ghentese, and that you renounce the former domains of the house of -Burgundy?" - -"It is so decided: the Emperor shall see that I am an ally as loyal as I -am a loyal foe. But first of all, and in any event, I desire and shall -demand that the Duchy of Milan be restored to me: it belongs to me by -hereditary right and by imperial investiture, and I will have it, on my -honor as a gentleman, but, I trust, without breaking with my brother -Charles." - -"And you will offer to allow Charles V. to pass through France on his -way to Ghent to chastise the rebels?" asked Poyet. - -"Yes, Monsieur le Chancelier," was the king's reply; "despatch M. de -Fréjus to-day to extend the invitation in my name. Let us show him that -we are disposed to go any length to maintain peace. But if he prefers -war--" - -A majestic, awe-inspiring gesture accompanied this phrase, interrupted -for an instant as François caught sight of his artist standing modestly -near the door. - -"But if he prefers war," he resumed, "by my Jupiter, of whom Benvenuto -brings me news, I swear that it shall be war bloody, desperate, and -terrible! Well, Benvenuto, where is my Jupiter?" - -"Sire," replied Cellini, "I bring you the model of your Jupiter: but do -you know of what I was dreaming as I looked at you and listened to you? -I was dreaming of a fountain for your Fontainebleau,--a fountain to be -surmounted by a colossal statue sixty feet high, holding a broken lance -in its right hand, and with the left resting on its sword hilt. This -statue, Sire, should represent Mars,--that is to say, your Majesty; for -your nature is all courage, and you use your courage judiciously, and -for the defence of your glory. Stay, Sire, that is not all: at the four -corners of the base of the statue there should be four seated -figures,--Poetry, Painting, Sculpture, and Generosity. Of that I was -dreaming as I looked at you and listened to you, Sire." - -"And you shall cause your dream to live in marble or bronze, Benvenuto: -such is my wish," said the king in a commanding tone, but with a -cordial, kindly smile. - -All the members of the council applauded, for all deemed the king worthy -of the statue, and the statue worthy of the king. - -"Meanwhile," said the king, "let us see our Jupiter." - -Benvenuto drew the model from beneath his cloak, and placed it upon the -table, around which the destiny of the world had so recently been -debated. - -François gazed at it for a moment with undisguised admiration. - -"At last!" he cried, "at last I have found a man after my own heart. My -friend," he continued, laying his hand upon Benvenuto's shoulder, "I -know not which of the two experiences the greater happiness, the prince -who finds an artist who thoroughly sympathizes with and understands all -his ideas, such an artist as yourself in short, or the artist who meets -a prince capable of appreciating him. I think that my pleasure is the -greater, upon my word." - -"Oh no, Sire, permit me!" cried Cellini; "surely mine is much the -greater." - -"No, mine, Benvenuto." - -"I dare not contradict your Majesty, and yet--" - -"Let us say that we experience an equal amount of pleasure, my friend." - -"You have called me your friend, Sire," said Benvenuto; "that is a word -which pays me a hundred times over for all that I have done or can ever -do for your Majesty." - -"Very well! it is my purpose to prove to you, Benvenuto, that it was no -empty, meaningless word that escaped me, and that I called you my friend -because you are my friend in fact. Bring me my Jupiter completed as soon -as possible, and whatever you may ask of me when you bring it, upon my -honor as a gentleman, you shall have if a king's hand can procure it for -you. Do you hear, messieurs? If I forget my promise, remind me of it." - -"Sire," cried Benvenuto, "you are a great and a noble king, and I am -ashamed that I am able to do so little for you, who do so much for me." - -Having kissed the hand the king held out to him, Cellini replaced the -statue of Jupiter under his cloak, and left the council chamber with his -heart overflowing with pride and joy. - -As he left the Louvre, he met Primaticcio about to go in. - -"Whither go you so joyously, my dear Benvenuto?" he said, as Cellini -hastened along without seeing him. - -"Ah! Francesco, is it you?" cried Cellini. "Yes, you are quite right. I -am joyous indeed, for I have just seen our great, our sublime, our -divine François I.--" - -"And did you see Madame d'Etampes?" queried Primaticcio. - -"Who said things to me, Francesco, that I dare not repeat, although they -say that modesty is not my strong point." - -"But what did Madame d'Etampes say to you?" - -"He called me his friend, Francesco, do you understand? He talked to me -as familiarly as he talks to his marshals. Finally, he said that when my -Jupiter is finished I may ask whatever favor I choose, and it is -accorded in advance." - -"But what did Madame d'Etampes promise you?" - -"What a strange man you are, Francesco!" - -"Why so?" - -"You persist in talking about Madame d'Etampes when I speak of the -king." - -"Because I know the court better than you do, Benvenuto; because you are -my countryman and my friend: because you have brought me a breath of air -from our dear Italy, and in my gratitude I desire to save you from a -great danger. Mark what I say, Benvenuto: the Duchesse d'Etampes is your -enemy, your mortal enemy. I have told you this before, when I only -feared it; I repeat it to-day, when I am perfectly sure of it. You have -offended her, and if you do not appease her, Benvenuto, she will ruin -you. Benvenuto, mark well what I say: Madame d'Etampes is the king's -queen." - -"Mon Dieu, what is all this?" cried Cellini, with a laugh. "I have -offended Madame d'Etampes! how so, in God's name?" - -"Oh, I know you, Benvenuto, and I supposed that you knew no more than I -or the woman herself as to the cause of her aversion to you. But what -can we do? Women are so constituted; they hate as they love, without -knowing why, and the Duchesse d'Etampes hates you." - -"What would you have me do?" - -"What would I have you do! I would have the courtier rescue the -sculptor." - -"I, the courtier of a courtesan!" - -"You are wrong, Benvenuto," said Primaticcio, smiling: "Madame d'Etampes -is very beautiful, as every artist must admit." - -"I admit it," said Benvenuto. - -"Very well, go and say so to herself, and not to me. I ask nothing more -than that to make you the best friends in the world. You have wounded -her by some artist's whim, and it is your place to make the first -advances toward her. - -"If I wounded her," said Cellini, "I did it unintentionally, or rather -without malice. She said some hitter words to me which I did not -deserve; I put her back where she belonged, and she did deserve it." - -"Never mind, never mind! forget what she said, Benvenuto, and make her -forget your reply. I tell you again she is imperious and vindictive, and -she has the king's heart in her hand,--a king who loves art, it is true, -but who loves love more. She will make you repent your audacity, -Benvenuto; she will make enemies for you; she it was who inspired the -provost with courage to resist you. And listen: I am just setting out -for Italy; I am going to Rome by her command; and my journey, Benvenuto, -is aimed at you,--I, your friend, am compelled to become the instrument -of her spleen." - -"What are you to do at Rome?" - -"What am I to do there? You have promised the king to emulate the -ancients, and I know that you are a man to keep your promise. But the -duchess thinks you a braggart, and with a view of crushing you by the -comparison no doubt, she is sending me, a painter, to Rome to make casts -of the most beautiful of the ancient statues, the Laocoön, the Venus, -the Knife-Grinder, and God knows what!" - -"That is, indeed, refinement of hatred," said Benvenuto, who, -notwithstanding his good opinion of himself, was not altogether -confident of the result of a comparison of his work with that of the -great masters; "but to yield to a woman," he added, clenching his fists, -"never! never!" - -"Who spoke of yielding? I will show you an excellent way to accomplish -it. She is pleased with Ascanio; she wishes to employ him, and has -instructed me to bid him call upon her. Now, nothing could be simpler -than for you to accompany your pupil to the Hôtel d'Etampes and -introduce him yourself to the fair duchess. Seize the opportunity; take -with you one of those marvellous jewels which you alone can make, -Benvenuto; show it to her first, and when you see her eyes glisten as -she looks at it, offer it to her as an unworthy tribute to her beauty. -She will accept, will thank you gracefully, and will in return make you -some present worthy of you and take you back into favor. If, on the -other hand, you have that woman for an enemy, abandon henceforth all the -great things of which you are dreaming. Alas! I too have been compelled -to stoop for a moment, only to rise to my full stature immediately. -Until then that dauber Rosso was preferred to me; he was put forward -everywhere, and always over my head. They made him Intendant of the -Crown." - -"You are unjust to him, Francesco," said Cellini, unable to conceal his -real thought; "he is a great painter." - -"Do you think so?" - -"I am sure of it." - -"And so am I sure of it," said Primaticcio, "and that is just why I hate -him. They were using him to crush me; I flattered their wretched vanity, -and now I am the great Primaticcio, and they are using me to crush you. -Do as I did, therefore, Benvenuto; you will never repent having followed -my advice. I implore you for your own sake and mine, I implore you in -the name of your renown and your future, both of which you will -compromise if you persist in your obstinacy." - -"It is hard," said Cellini, who was, however, perceptibly weakening in -his determination. - -"If not for yourself, Benvenuto, for the sake of our great king. Do you -wish to tear his heart by compelling him to choose between a mistress he -adores, and an artist he admires?" - -"Very well! so be it! For the king's sake I will do it!" cried Cellini, -overjoyed to find a pretext which would spare his self-esteem. - -"_À la bonne heure!_" said Primaticcio. "You understand, of course, -that if a single word of this conversation should be repeated to the -duchess, it would cause my ruin." - -"Oh! I trust that you have no fears on that score." - -"If Benvenuto gives his word, all is said." - -"You have it." - -"In that case, adieu, brother." - -"A pleasant journey to you." - -"And good luck to you." - -The two friends, having exchanged a cordial grasp of the hand, parted, -each with a gesture which summarized their whole conversation. - - - - -XIII - - -SOUVENT FEMME VARIE - - -The Hôtel d'Etampes was not far from the Hôtel de Nesle. Our readers -will not be surprised therefore at our rapid flight from one to the -other. - -It was located near the Quai des Augustins, and extended the whole -length of Rue Gilles-le-Gueux, which was at a later date sentimentally -christened Rue Gît-le-Cœur. The principal entrance was upon Rue de -l'Hirondelle. François I. had presented it to his mistress to induce -her to become the wife of Jacques Desbrosses, Comte de Penthièvre, as -he had given the dukedom of Etampes and the government of Bretagne to -Jacques Desbrosses, Comte de Penthièvre, to induce him to marry his -mistress. - -The king had spared no pains to render his gift worthy of the lovely -Anne d'Heilly. He had caused the old edifice to be refurbished and made -over according to the latest style. - -Upon its frowning façade the delicate flowers of the Renaissance sprang -into life by magic, like so many thoughts of love. It was evident from -the zeal displayed by the king in the decoration of this princely abode, -that he anticipated passing almost as much of his time there as the -duchess herself. The apartments were furnished with royal magnificence, -and the whole establishment was upon the footing of that of a real -queen, much more extensive and luxurious, indeed, than that of the -chaste and kindly Eleanora, sister of Charles V. and the lawful wife of -François I., who was a personage of so little importance in the world, -as well as at the French court. - -If we are so indiscreet as to make our way into the duchess's sleeping -apartment early in the morning, we shall find her half reclining upon a -couch, her charming head supported by one of her lovely hands, and -passing the other carelessly through her chestnut locks, which shone -with a golden light. Her bare feet seem even smaller and whiter than -they really are in her wide black velvet slippers, and her floating, -_négligée_ morning gown lends an irresistible charm to the coquette's -fascinations. - -The king is in the room, standing by a window, but he is not looking at -his duchess. He is tapping his fingers rhythmically against the glass, -and seems to be deep in meditation. He is thinking, no doubt, of the -momentous question of Charles V.'s journey through France. - -"Pray what are you doing there, Sire, with your back turned?" the -duchess finally asks, petulantly. - -"Making verses for you, my love, and they are finished at last, I -believe." - -"Oh, repeat them to me quickly, I pray you, my gallant crowned poet!" - -"That I will," the king replies, with the confidence of a laurel-crowned -rhymer. "Listen:-- - - -'Étant seul et auprès d'une fenêtre, -Par un matin comme le jour peignait, -Je regardais Aurore à main senestre, -Qui à Phœbus le chemin enseignait, -Et d'autre part ma mie qui peignait -Son chef doré, et vis ses luisans yeux, -Dont un jeta un trait si gracieux, -Qu'à haute voix je fus contraint de dire; -Dieux immortels! rentrez dedans vos cieux, -Car la beauté de ceste vous empire!'"[5] - - -"Oh, the lovely verses!" says the duchess, clapping her hands. "Look at -Aurora to your heart's content: henceforth I'll not be jealous of her, -since to her I owe such charming verses. Say them to me once again, I -beg." - -François obligingly repeated his flattering lines, for his own benefit -as well as hers, but this time Anne said nothing. - -"What is the matter, my fair siren?" said François, who expected a -second compliment. - -"The matter is, Sire, that I am considering whether I will say to you -again even more emphatically what I said last evening: a poet has even -less pretext than a knightly king for allowing his mistress to be -insulted, for she is at the same time his mistress and his Muse." - -"Again, naughty one!" rejoined the king with an impatient gesture: "an -insult indeed, bon Dieu! Your wrath is implacable, in good sooth, my -nymph of nymphs, when it leads you to neglect my verses." - -"Monseigneur, I hate as warmly as I love." - -"And yet suppose I were to beg you to lay aside your animosity to -Benvenuto,--a great fool, who knows not what he says, who talks just as -he fights, heedless of consequences, and who had not, I swear, the -slightest purpose to wound you. You know, moreover, that clemency's the -attribute of goddesses, dear goddess mine, so pray forgive the simpleton -for love of me!" - -"Simpleton, indeed!" muttered Anne. - -"Oh, a sublime simpleton, I grant you!" said François: "I saw him -yesterday, and he promised to do marvellous things. He is a man, I -verily believe, who has no rival in his art, and will hereafter shed as -much lustre on my reign as Andrea del Sarto, Titian, and Leonardo da -Vinci. You know how I love my artists, dearest duchess, so be -complaisant and indulgent to him, I beg you. Mon Dieu! an April shower, -a woman's caprice, and an artist's whim have more of fascination than of -ennui for me. Come, come, do you, whom I do love so dearly, pardon at my -bidding." - -"I am your servant, Sire, and I will obey you." - -"Thanks. In return for this favor accorded by the woman's kindly heart, -you may demand such gift as pleases you that lies within the prince's -power to bestow. But, alas! 't is growing late, and I must leave you. -The council meets again to-day. 'T is an insufferable bore! Ah! my good -brother Charles makes the king's trade most irksome to me. With him -cunning replaces chivalry, the pen the sword; and 't is a burning shame. -Upon my soul, I think we need new words to be devised for all this -science and erudition of government. Adieu! my poor beloved. I will do -my best to be adroit and clever. You are very fortunate, my dear, for -you have only to remain beautiful, and Heaven has made that an easy task -for you. Adieu! nay, do not rise, my page is waiting for me in the -antechamber. _Au revoir_, and think of me." - -"As always, Sire." - -François waved a last farewell to her with his hand, raised the -hangings, and went out, leaving the fair duchess alone; and she, true to -her promise, began at once, if we must say it, to think of other things. - -Madame d'Etampes was of an impulsive, active, ambitious nature. Having -eagerly sought and gallantly won the king's love, it was not long before -that love ceased to satisfy her restless spirit, and she began to suffer -from ennui. Neither Admiral Biron, nor the Comte de Longueval, whom she -loved for some time, nor Diane de Poitiers, whom she always hated, -furnished a sufficient amount of excitement for her needs; but within a -week the void in her heart had been measurably filled, and she had begun -to live again, thanks to a new hate and a new love. She hated Cellini -and loved Ascanio, and she was thinking of one or the other while her -women were completing her toilet. - -When she was fully dressed except as to her headgear, the Provost of -Paris and the Vicomte de Marmagne were announced. - -They were among the most devoted partisans of the duchess in the warfare -which existed at court between the Dauphin's mistress, Diane de -Poitiers, and herself. One is naturally glad to see one's friends when -thinking of one's enemies, and the manner of Madame d'Etampes was -infinitely gracious as she gave the scowling provost and the smiling -viscount her hand to kiss. - -"Messire le Prévôt," she began, in a tone in which unfeigned wrath was -blended with compassion that contained no suggestion of offence, "we -have been informed of the infamous treatment you have received from this -Italian clown,--you, our best friend,--and we are extremely indignant." - -"Madame," replied D'Estourville, neatly turning his misfortune into an -occasion for flattery, "I should have been ashamed if one of my years -and character had been spared by the villain who was not deterred by -your beauty and charm." - -"Oh!" said Anne, "I think only of you; as to the insult to me -personally, the king, who is really too indulgent to these insolent -foreigners, has begged me to forget it, and I have done so." - -"In that case, madame, the request we have to make will doubtless be but -ill received, and we ask your permission to withdraw without stating -it." - -"What, Messire d'Estourville! am I not at your service at all times, and -whatever may happen? Speak! speak! or I shall lose my temper with so -distrustful a friend." - -"Very well, madame, this is what we have to say. I had believed that I -might dispose of this grant of lodgings which I owe to your munificence -in favor of the Vicomte de Marmagne, and naturally we cast our eyes upon -the Hôtel de Nesle, which has fallen into such bad hands." - -"Aha!" said the duchess. "You interest me immensely." - -"The viscount, madame, accepted my suggestion in the first place with -the utmost enthusiasm; but now, upon reflection, he hesitates, and -thinks with terror of the redoubtable Benvenuto." - -"Pardon me, my good friend," the viscount interposed,--"pardon me, you -explain the matter very ill. I am not afraid of Benvenuto, but of the -anger of the king. I have no fear of being killed by the Italian clown, -to use madame's words,--no, no! What I fear, so to speak, is that I may -kill him, and that some ill may come to me for having deprived our lord -and master of a servitor by whom he seems to set great store." - -"I ventured to hope, madame, that, in case of need, your protection -would not fail him." - -"It has never yet failed my friends," said the duchess; "and, -furthermore, have you not on your side a better friend than I,--justice? -Are you not acting in accordance with the king's will?" - -"His Majesty," Marmagne replied, "did not himself designate the Hôtel -de Nesle as the abode of any other than Benvenuto, and our choice, under -those circumstances, would seem very much like revenge,--there's no -denying it. And then, suppose that I kill this Cellini, as I can promise -to do, for I shall have two sure men with me?" - -"Oh! mon Dieu!" exclaimed the duchess, showing her white teeth as she -smiled, "the king's protection extends to living men, but I fancy that -he takes but little thought to avenge the dead, and when his admiration -for art is deprived of this particular subject, he will remember naught -save his affection for me, I trust. The man insulted me publicly and -outrageously, Marmagne! do you forget it?" - -"But, madame," rejoined the prudent viscount, "be very sure that you -know all you will have to defend." - -"Oh, you are perfectly clear, viscount." - -"Nay, madame, if you will permit me, I do not wish to leave you in -ignorance upon any point. It may be that force will fail to effect our -purpose with this devil of a man. In that event, we shall have recourse -to stratagem; if he escapes my bravos in his Hôtel in broad daylight, -they will meet him again some night by accident in a lonely street, -and--they have daggers, madame, as well as swords." - -"I understand," said the duchess, nor did she turn a shade paler while -listening to this little scheme of assassination. - -"Well, madame?" - -"Well, viscount, I see that you are a man of precautions, and that it's -not well to be numbered among your enemies, deuce take me!" - -"But touching the affair itself, madame?" - -"'T is serious, in very truth, and is perhaps worth reflecting upon; but -what was I saying? Every one knows, the king himself included, that this -man has wounded me grievously in my pride. I hate him as bitterly as I -hate my husband or Madame Diane, and i' faith I think that I can promise -you--What is it, Isabeau? why do you interrupt us?" - -The duchess's last words were addressed to one of her women, who entered -hurriedly in a state of intense excitement. - -"Mon Dieu! madame," said she, "I ask madame's pardon, but the Florentine -artist, Benvenuto Cellini, is below with the loveliest little golden -vase you can imagine. He said very courteously that he has come to -present it to your ladyship, and he requests the favor of speaking with -you a moment." - -"Aha!" exclaimed the duchess, with an expression of gratified pride; -"what reply did you make to him, Isabeau?" - -"That madame was not dressed, and that I would go and inform her of his -presence." - -"Very good. It would seem," the duchess added, turning to the dismayed -provost, "that our enemy sees the error of his ways, and begins to -realize who we are, and what we can do. All the same, he will not come -off so cheaply as he thinks, and I don't propose to accept his excuses -all in a moment. He must be made to feel the enormity of his offence and -the weight of our indignation a little more sensibly. Say to him, -Isabeau, that you have informed me, and that I bid him wait." - -Isabeau went out. - -"I was saying, Vicomte de Marmagne," resumed the duchess, with a -perceptible softening in her tone, "that what you were speaking of is a -very serious matter, and that I could hardly promise to give my -countenance to what is, after all, nothing less than ambuscade and -murder." - -"But the insult was so pronounced!" the provost ventured, to say. - -"The reparation will be no less so, I trust, messire. This famous pride, -which has resisted the will of sovereigns, is yonder in my antechamber -awaiting the good pleasure of a woman, and two hours of this purgatory -will, in all conscience, sufficiently atone for an impertinent word. We -must not be altogether pitiless, provost. Forgive him, as I shall -forgive him two hours hence. Ought my influence over you to be less than -the king's over me?" - -"Kindly permit us to take leave now, madame," said the provost, bowing, -"for I prefer not to make a promise to my real sovereign which I could -not keep." - -"Take your leave! oh no!" said the duchess, who was determined to have -witnesses of her triumph. "I intend, Messire le Prévôt, that you shall -be present at the humiliation of your enemy, and thus we shall both be -avenged by the same stroke. I devote the next two hours to you and the -viscount; nay, do not thank me. They say that you are marrying your -daughter to Comte d'Orbec, I believe?--a beautiful _parti_, in sooth. -Fine, I should have said, not beautiful.[6] Pray, sit you down, messire! -Do you know that my consent is needful for this marriage, and you've not -asked it yet, but I will give it you. D'Orbec is as devoted to me as -yourself. I hope that we are at last to see your lovely child, and have -her for our own, and that her husband will not be so ill advised as not -to bring her to court. What is her name, messire?" - -"Colombe, madame." - -"A sweet, pretty name. 'T is said that one's name has an influence upon -one's destiny: if it be so, the poor child should have a tender heart, -and be foredoomed to suffer. Well, Isabeau, what is it now?" - -"Nothing, madame; he said that he would wait." - -"Ah, yes! 't is well. I had forgotten him already. Yes, yes, messire, I -say again, keep your eye on Colombe; the count's a husband of the same -sort as mine, as ambitious as the Duc d'Etampes is avaricious, and quite -capable of exchanging his wife for some duchy. And then you must be -beware of me as well, especially if she's as pretty as she's said to be! -You will present her to me, will you not, messire? 'T will be no more -than fair, so that I may be prepared to defend myself." - -The duchess, exultant in anticipation of her triumph, ran on thus for a -long while with apparent unconcern, although her impatient joy could be -discerned in her every movement. - -"Well, well," she said at last, "another half-hour and the two hours -will have passed; then we will release poor Benvenuto from his agony. -Put yourselves in his place; he must suffer terribly, for he is little -wonted to this sort of sentry-go. To him the Louvre is always open, and -the king always visible. In truth, I pity him, although he well deserves -it. He must be gnashing his teeth, must be not? And then to be unable to -give vent to his anger. Ha! ha! ha! I shall have many a hearty laugh -over this. But what is that I hear? Bon Dieu! all that shouting and -uproar!" - -"May it not be that the soul of the damned is wearying of Purgatory?" -suggested the provost, with renewed hope. - -"I propose to go and see," said the duchess, turning pale. "Come with -me, my masters, come." - -Benvenuto, persuaded by the arguments we have heard to make his peace -with the all-powerful favorite, on the day following his conversation -with Primaticcio took the little golden vase as a peace-offering, and -repaired to the Hôtel d'Etampes, with Ascanio leaning on his arm, still -very weak and very pale after a night of suffering. In the first place, -the footmen refused to announce him at so early an hour, and he lost a -good half-hour parleying with them. He had already begun to lose his -temper, when Isabeau at last made her appearance, and consented to -announce him to her mistress. She returned to say to Benvenuto that the -duchess was dressing, and he must wait a short time. He took patience, -therefore, and sat himself down upon a stool beside Ascanio, who was -considerably overdone, by the walk, in conjunction with his fever and -his painful thoughts. - -An hour passed. Benvenuto began to count the minutes. "After all," he -thought, "the toilette of a duchess is the most important function of -the day, and I don't propose to lose the benefit of the step I have -taken for a quarter of an hour more or less." - -Nevertheless, in the face of this philosophical reflection, he began to -count the seconds. - -Meanwhile Ascanio turned paler and paler; he was determined to say -nothing to his master of his sufferings, and had accompanied him without -a word; but he had eaten nothing that morning, and, although he refused -to acknowledge it, he felt that his strength was failing him. - -Benvenuto could not remain seated, but began to stalk up and down the -room. - -A quarter of an hour passed. - -"Are you suffering, my child?" he asked. - -"No, master, indeed I'm not: you are the one who is suffering. Be -patient, I beg you, for she cannot be long now." - -At that moment Isabeau appeared again. - -"Your mistress is very slow," said Benvenuto. - -The mischievous girl went to the window, and looked at the clock in the -courtyard. - -"Why, you have waited only an hour and a half," she said; "why do you -complain, pray?" - -As Cellini frowned, she laughed in his face, and tripped away. - -Benvenuto, by a violent effort, subdued his wrath once more. But in -order to do it he was obliged to resume his seat, and sat with folded -arms, silent and stem. He seemed calm; but his wrath was fermenting -silently. Two servants stood like statues at the door, observing him -with a serious expression, which seemed to him derisory. - -The clock struck the quarter. Benvenuto glanced at Ascanio, and saw that -he was paler than ever, and almost ready to faint. - -"Ah ça!" he cried, throwing his self-restraint to the winds, "so this -is done designedly! I chose to believe what I was told, and wait -good-naturedly: but if an insult is intended--and I am so little wonted -to them, that the thought did not occur to me--if an insult is intended, -I am not the man to allow myself to be insulted, even by a woman, and I -go. Come, Ascanio." - -As he spoke, Benvenuto, raising in his powerful hand the unhospitable -stool, on which the duchess in her wrath had humiliated him for two -mortal hours without his knowledge, let it fall to the floor and -shattered it. The valets made a movement toward him, but he half drew -his dagger and they stopped. Ascanio, terrified for his master, essayed -to rise, but his excitement had exhausted what remained of his strength, -and he fell to the floor unconscious. Benvenuto at first did not see -him. - -At that moment the duchess appeared in the doorway, pale and trembling -with wrath. - -"Yes, I go," Benvenuto repeated in a voice of thunder, perfectly well -aware of her presence, but addressing the valets: "do you tell the woman -that I take my present with me to give to somebody, I know not whom, who'll -be more worthy of it than herself. Tell her that, if she took me for -one of her valets, like yourselves, she made a sad mistake, and that we -artists do not sell our loyalty and homage as she sells her love! And -now make way for me! Follow me, Ascanio!" - -As he spoke, he turned toward his beloved pupil, and saw that his eyes -were closed, and that his head had fallen back against the wall. - -"Ascanio!" he cried, "Ascanio, my child, fainting, perhaps dying! O -Ascanio, my beloved! and 't is this woman again--" And Benvenuto turned -with a threatening gesture to Madame d'Etampes, at the same time -starting to carry Ascanio away in his arms. - -The duchess meanwhile, transfixed with rage and terror, had not moved or -spoken. But when she saw Ascanio with his head thrown back, and his long -hair dishevelled, as white as marble, and so beautiful in his pallor, -she rushed to him in obedience to an irresistible impulse, and fell on -her knees opposite Benvenuto, seizing one of Ascanio's hands in her own. - -"Why, the child is dying! If you take him away, monsieur, you will kill -him. He may need immediate attention. Jerome, run and fetch Master -André. I do not mean that he shall go from here in this condition, do -you understand? You may go or stay, as you please, but leave him." - -Benvenuto cast a penetrating glance at the duchess, and one of deep -anxiety at Ascanio. He realized that there could be no danger in leaving -his cherished pupil in the care of Madame d'Etampes, while there might -be very serious danger in removing him without proper precaution. His -mind was soon made up, as always, for swift and inexorable decision was -one of Cellini's most striking good or had qualities. - -"You will answer for him, madame?" he said. - -"Oh, with my life!" cried the duchess. - -He softly kissed his apprentice on the forehead, and, wrapping his cloak -about him, stalked proudly from the room, with his hand upon his dagger, -not without exchanging a glance of hatred and disdain with the duchess. -As for the two men, he did not deign to look at them. - -Anne followed her enemy so long as she could see him with eyes blazing -with wrath; then, with an entire change of expression, her eyes rested -sadly and anxiously upon the comely invalid; love took the place of -anger, the tigress became a gazelle once more. - -"Master André," she said to her physician, who entered hurriedly, "save -him; he is wounded and dying." - -"It is nothing," said Master André, "a mere passing weakness." - -He poured upon Ascanio's lips a few drops of a cordial which he always -carried about him. - -"He is coming to himself," cried the duchess, "he moved. Now, master, he -must be kept quiet, must he not? Take him into yonder room," she said to -the valets, "and lay him upon a couch.--But, hark ye," she added, -lowering her voice, so that none but they could hear: "if one word -escapes you as to what you have seen and heard, your neck shall pay for -your tongue. Go." - -The trembling lackeys bowed, and, gently lifting Ascanio, bore him away. - -Remaining alone with the provost and the Vicomte de Marmagne, prudent -and passive spectators of the outrage upon her, Madame d'Etampes eyed -them both, especially the latter, with a scornful glance, but she -speedily repressed the inclination to express her contempt in words. - -"I was saying, viscount," she began in a bitter tone, but calmly, "I was -saying that the thing you proposed was very serious; but I did not -reflect sufficiently upon it. I have sufficient power, I think, to -permit me to strike down a traitor, even as I should have sufficient, if -need were, to deal with indiscreet friends. The king would condescend to -punish him this time, I trust; but I choose to avenge myself. Punishment -would make the insult public; vengeance will bury it. You have been cool -and clever enough, messieurs, to postpone my vengeance, in order not to -compromise its success, and I congratulate you upon it. Be shrewd enough -now, I conjure you, not to let it escape you, and do not compel me to -have recourse to others than yourselves. Vicomte de Marmagne, it is -necessary to speak plainly to you. I guarantee you equal impunity with -the executioner; but if you care for my advice, I advise you and your -sbirri to lay aside the sword, and trust to the dagger. Say nothing, but -act, and that promptly; that is the most satisfactory response. Adieu, -messieurs." - -With these words, uttered in a short, abrupt tone, the duchess extended -her hand as if to point out the door to the two noblemen. They bowed -awkwardly, too confused to find words in which to frame an excuse, and -left the room. - -"Oh, to think that I am only a woman, and am obliged to resort to such -dastards!" exclaimed Anne, looking after them while her lips curled -disdainfully. "Oh how I despise them all, royal lover, venal husband, -valet in silken doublet, valet in livery,--all save a single one whom in -my own despite I admire, and another whom I delight to love!" - -She entered the room to which the interesting invalid had been carried. -As she approached the couch Ascanio opened his eyes. - -"It was nothing," said Master André to the duchess. "The young man has -received a wound in the shoulder, and fatigue, some mental shock, or -hunger, it may be, caused a momentary faintness, from which he has -completely recovered, as you see, by the use of cordials. He is fully -restored now, and may safely be taken home in a litter." - -"Very good," said the duchess, handing a purse to Master André, who -bowed low and went out. - -"Where am I?" said Ascanio, seeking to collect his thoughts. - -"You are with me, at my home, Ascanio," the duchess replied. - -"At your home, madame? Ah! yes, I recognize you; you are Madame -d'Etampes, and I remember too--Where is Benvenuto? Where is my master?" - -"Do not stir, Ascanio; your master is safe, never fear. He is dining -peaceably at home at the present moment." - -"But how does it happen that he left me here?" - -"You lost consciousness, and he trusted you to my care." - -"And you assure me, madame, that he is in no danger; that he went from -here unharmed?" - -"I tell you again, I promise you, Ascanio, that he has never been less -exposed to danger than at this moment. Ungrateful boy, when I, Duchesse -d'Etampes, am watching over him and caring for him with the tender -solicitude of a sister, to persist in speaking of his master!" - -"O madame, I pray you pardon me, and accept my thanks!" said Ascanio. - -"Indeed, it's high time!" rejoined the duchess, shaking her pretty head -with a sly smile. - -Thereupon she began to speak, giving to every word a tender intonation, -and to the simplest phrases the subtlest of meanings, asking every -question greedily and at the same time with respect, and listening to -every reply as if her destiny depended upon it. She was humble, soft and -caressing as a cat, quick to grasp every cue, like a consummate actress, -leading Ascanio gently back to the subject if he wandered from it, and -giving him all the credit for ideas which she evolved and cunningly led -up to; seeming to distrust herself, and listening to him as if he were -an oracle; exerting to the utmost the cultivated, charming intellect -which, as we have said, caused her to be called the loveliest of -blue-stockings and the most learned of beauties. In short, this -interview became in her hands the most cajoling flattery, and the -cleverest of seductions. As the youth for the third or fourth time made -ready to take his leave, she said, still detaining him:-- - -"You speak, Ascanio, with so much eloquence and fire of your goldsmith's -art, that it is a perfect revelation to me, and henceforth I shall see -the conception of a master where I have hitherto seen only an ornament. -In your opinion Benvenuto is the great master of the art?" - -"Madame, he has surpassed the divine Michel-Angelo himself." - -"I am pleased to hear it. You lessen the ill will I bear him on account -of his rude behavior to me. - -"Oh! you must not mind his roughness, madame. His brusque manner -conceals a most ardent and devoted heart; but Benvenuto is at the same -time the most impatient and fiery of men. He thought that you were -making him wait in mere sport, and the insult--" - -"Say the mischief," rejoined the duchess with the simulated confusion of -a spoiled child. "It is the truth that I was not dressed when your -master arrived, and I simply prolonged my toilet a little. It was wrong, -very wrong. You see that I confess my sins to you freely. I knew not -that you were with him," she added eagerly. - -"True, madame, but Cellini, who is not very sagacious, I admit, and -whose confidence has been sadly abused, deems you to be--I may say it to -you who are so gracious and kind--very wicked and very terrible, and he -thought that he detected an insult in what was nothing more than child's -play." - -"Do you think so?" queried the duchess, unable wholly to repress a -mocking smile. - -"Oh, forgive him, madame! he is noble-hearted and generous, and if he -knew you as you are, believe me, he would ask your pardon for his error -on his knees." - -"Say no more, I pray you! Do you think to make me love him now? I bear -him a grudge, I tell you, and, to begin with, I propose to raise up a -rival." - -"That will be difficult, madame." - -"No, Ascanio, for you, his pupil, shall be the rival. Allow me, at -least, if I must do homage to this great genius who detests me, to do it -indirectly. Say, will you, of whose charming inventive talent Cellini -himself boasts, refuse to place your talent at my service? And since you -do not share your master's prejudices against my person, will you not -prove it to me by consenting to assist in embellishing it?" - -"Madame, all that I am and all the power I have is at your service. You -are so kind to me, you have inquired with so much interest concerning my -past and my hopes for the future, that I am henceforth devoted to you -heart and soul." - -"Child, I have done nothing yet, and I ask nothing from you at present -except a little of your talent. Tell me, have you not seen some jewel of -surpassing beauty in your dreams? I have superb pearls; into what -marvellous creation would you like to transform them, my pretty wizard? -Shall I confide to you an idea of my own? A moment since, as you lay in -yonder room with pale cheeks and head thrown back, I fancied that I saw -a beautiful lily whose stalk was bending in the wind. Make me a lily of -pearls and silver to wear in my corsage," said the enchantress, placing -her hand upon her heart. - -"Ah! madame, such kindness--" - -"Ascanio, do you care to repay my kindness, as you call it? Promise me -that you will take me for your confidante, your friend, that you will -hide nothing from me of your acts, your plans, your sorrows, for I see -that you are unhappy. Promise to come to me when you stand in need of -help or counsel." - -"Why, madame, you bestow one favor more upon me, rather than ask a proof -of my gratitude." - -"However that may be, you promise?" - -"Alas! I would have given you the promise yesterday, madame; for -yesterday I might have thought that I might some day need your help or -counsel; but to-day it is in no one's power to help me." - -"Who knows?" - -"I know, madame." - -"Ah me! Ascanio, you are unhappy, you are unhappy, you cannot deceive -me." - -Ascanio sadly shook his head. - -"You are disingenuous with a friend, Ascanio; 't is not well done of -you," the duchess continued, taking the young man's hand, and softly -pressing it. - -"My master must be anxious, madame, and I am afraid that my presence -discommodes you. I feel quite well again. Allow me to withdraw." - -"How eager you are to leave me! Wait at least until a litter is prepared -for you. Do not resist; it is the doctor's order, and my own." - -Anne called a servant, and gave him the necessary orders, then bade -Isabeau bring her pearls and some of her jewels, which she handed to -Ascanio. - -"How I restore your freedom," she said; "but when you are fully restored -to health, my lily will be the first thing you give your mind to, will -it not? Meanwhile, think upon it, I beg you, and as soon as you have -finished your design come and show it to me." - -"Yes, Madame la Duchesse." - -"And do you not wish me to think upon how I can be of service to you, -and to do whatever you wish, since you are doing for me what I wish? -Come, Ascanio, come, my child, and tell me what you sigh for? For at -your age one seeks in vain to still the heating of his heart, turn his -eyes away, and close his lips,--one always sighs for something. Do you -deem me to be so devoid of power and influence that you disdain to make -me your confidante?" - -"I know, madame," rejoined Ascanio, "that you enjoy all the power which -you deserve. But no human power will avail to help me in my present -plight." - -"Tell me all the same," said the duchess; "I insist!" Then, with -fascinating coquetry, softening her voice and her expression, she added, -"I beseech you!" - -"Alas! alas! madame," cried Ascanio, as his grief overflowed. "Alas! -since you speak so kindly to me, and since my departure will cover my -shame and tears, I will do, not as I should have done yesterday, address -a prayer to the duchess, but make a confidante of the woman. Yesterday I -would have said, 'I love Colombe, and I am happy!' To-day I will say, -'Colombe does not love me, and there is nothing left for me to do but to -die!' Adieu, madame, and pity me!" - -Ascanio hurriedly kissed Madame d'Etampes's hand, as she stood mute and -motionless, and vanished. - -"A rival! a rival!" said Anne, as if awaking from a dream; "but she does -not love him, and he shall love me, for I will have it so! Oh yes! I -swear that he shall love me, and that I will kill Benvenuto!" - - -[Footnote 5: - -Standing alone beside my window, -One morning as the day was breaking, -I saw at my left hand Aurora -To Phœbus pointing out his daily road; -And on the other hand my sweetheart combing -Her golden locks; I saw her beaming eyes -That shone so lovingly upon me, -That I was fain to cry aloud: -"Immortal Gods! return to your abodes celestial, -Her loveliness doth put yours to the blush."] - -[Footnote 6: "Je dis beau, c'est bon que je devrais dire."] - - - - -XIV - - -WHEREIN IT IS PROVEN THAT SORROW IS THE -GROUNDWORK OF THE LIFE OF MAN - - -We ask pardon for the bitter misanthropy of this title. It is the fact -that the present chapter will exhibit scarcely any other coherent -principle than sorrow, and therein will resemble life. The reflection is -not new, as a celebrated character in comic opera would say, but it is -consoling, in that it will perhaps he accepted as an apology by the -reader, whom we are about to lead, even as Virgil led Dante, from -despair to despair. - -No offence is intended either to the reader or to Virgil. - -Our friends, in very truth, at the moment at which we have now arrived, -mere all, beginning with Benvenuto and ending with Jacques Aubry, -plunged in melancholy, and we are about to see them gradually engulfed -in the dark rising tide of sorrow. - -We left Benvenuto exceedingly anxious concerning Ascanio's condition. On -his return to the Grand-Nesle, he thought but little of the wrath of -Madame d'Etampes, I promise you. His sole preoccupation was his dear -invalid. So it was that his joy knew no hounds when the door opened to -give admission to a litter, and Ascanio, leaping lightly to the ground, -grasped his hand, and assured him that he was no worse than in the -morning. But Benvenuto's brow quickly grew dark at the apprentice's -first words, and he listened with an expression of peculiar -dissatisfaction while the younger man said:-- - -"Master, I propose to show you that you have done a wrong for which you -must make amends, and I am sure that you will thank me instead of -hearing me ill will for it. You are mistaken with relation to Madame -d'Etampes; she neither despises nor hates you; on the contrary, she -honors and admires you, and you must agree that you were very rude in -your treatment of her,--a woman and a duchess. Master, Madame d'Etampes -is not only as beautiful as a goddess, she is as kind as an angel, -modest and enthusiastic, simple-minded and noble, and at heart her -disposition is lovely. What you deemed insulting insolence this morning -was nothing more than childish mischief. I implore you, for your own -sake--you surely would not be unjust--as well as for mine, whom she made -welcome and cared for with such touching kindness, not to persist in -your insulting contempt for her. I will answer for it that you will have -no difficulty in persuading her--But you do not answer me, dear master. -You shake your head. Can it be that I have wounded you?" - -"Hark ye, my child," rejoined Benvenuto gravely. "I have often told you -that in my view there is but one thing in the world forever beautiful, -forever young, forever fruitful, and that is art divine. And yet, I -think, I hope, I know, that in certain tender hearts love also counts -for much,--a deep and noble sentiment, which may make happy a whole -life; but it is very rare. For what is love in most cases? A fancy of a -day, a joyous intimacy, in which both parties are deceived, and very -often in the best of faith. I make sport of this love, as it is called, -Ascanio, with great freedom as you know; I laugh at its high-flown -pretensions and its stilted language. I do not slander it. To say truth, -it rather pleases me; it has _in petto_ all the joy, all the sweetness, -all the jealousy of a serious passion, but its wounds are not mortal. -Comedy or tragedy, after a certain time one hardly remembers it save as -a sort of theatrical performance. And then, Ascanio, while women are -charming creatures, to my mind all save a very few do not deserve and do -not understand anything more than this passing fancy. To give them more, -one must be a dupe or an imprudent fool. Take Scozzone, for example: if -she should enter my heart, she would be terrified at what she saw -therein; I leave her at the threshold, and she sings and dances, she is -light of heart and happy. Moreover, Ascanio, these ever changing -alliances have a less durable basis, which however is all-sufficient for -the artist,--the worship of form, and the adoration of pure beauty. That -is their serious side, and it is on account of that I say no ill of -them, although I laugh at them. But, Ascanio, mark this: there are other -passions which do not make me laugh, but make me tremble,--terrible, -insensate passions, as impossible as things we see in dreams." - -"Mon Dieu!" thought Ascanio, "can he have learned aught of my mad -passion for Colombe?" - -"They afford neither pleasure nor happiness," continued Cellini, "and -yet they take possession of one's whole being; they are vampires which -slowly drink your whole existence, which devour your heart little by -little; they hold you in a deathly embrace, and you cannot extricate -yourself. Ascanio, Ascanio, beware of such a passion. 'T is clear that -they are mere chimeras, and that they can in no way profit one, and yet -men who know this well plunge into them body and soul, and abandon their -lives to them almost with joy." - -"He has that in his mind! he knows all!" said Ascanio to himself. - -"My dear son," pursued Benvenuto, "if there still is time, break these -bonds which would hold you fast forever; you will bear the mark of them, -but try at least to save your life." - -"Who told you that I love her, in God's name?" demanded the apprentice. - -"If you do not love her, God be praised!" exclaimed Benvenuto, thinking -that Ascanio denied the impeachment, when he simply asked a question. -"Beware at all events, for I saw this morning that she loves you." - -"This morning! Of whom are you speaking? What do you mean?" - -"Of whom am I speaking? of Madame d'Etampes." - -"Madame d'Etampes!" echoed the bewildered apprentice. "Why, master you -are wrong, it's not possible. You say that you saw that Madame d'Etampes -loves me?" - -"Ascanio, I am forty years old; I have lived, and I know whereof I -speak. By her manner of looking at you, by the favorable opinion which -she has succeeded in leading you to form of her, I would dare swear that -she loves you; and from the enthusiasm with which you defended her just -now I was much afraid that you had fallen in love with her as well. In -that case, dear Ascanio, you would be lost: her love, hot enough to -consume your whole being, when it left you, would leave you with no -illusion, no faith, no hope, and you would have no other resource but to -love others as you had been loved yourself, and to carry to other hearts -the havoc that had been wrought in your own." - -"Master," said Ascanio, "I do not know whether Ha dame d'Etampes loves -me, but I am perfectly sure that I do not love Madame d'Etampes." - -Benvenuto was no more than half convinced by Ascanio's apparent -sincerity, for he thought that he might be deceived as to his own -feelings. He said nothing more on the subject, and in the days which -followed often gazed at the apprentice with a sad face. - -It should be said, however, that he did not seem to be troubled -exclusively on Ascanio's account. He gave every indication of being -tormented by some personal distress. He lost his frank, joyous manner, -and no longer indulged in his original pranks of former days. He always -secluded himself during the forenoon in his room over the foundry, and -had given explicit orders that he should not be disturbed there. The -rest of the day he worked at the gigantic statue of Mars with his -accustomed ardor, but without talking about it with his accustomed -effusiveness. Especially in Ascanio's presence did he seem gloomy, -embarrassed, and almost shamefaced. He seemed to avoid his dear pupil as -if he were his creditor or his judge. In short, it was easy to see that -some great sorrow or some great passion had found its way into that -manly heart, and was laying it waste. - -Ascanio was hardly more happy; he was persuaded, as he had said to -Madame d'Etampes, that Colombe did not love him. Comte d'Orbec, whom he -knew only by name, was, in his jealous thoughts, a young and attractive -nobleman, and Messire d'Estourville's daughter, the happy betrothed of a -well favored, nobly born lover, had never for an instant thought of an -obscure artist. Even if he had retained the vague and fleeting hope -which never deserts a heart overflowing with love, he had himself -destroyed his last chance if Madame d'Etampes was really in love with -him, by disclosing to her the name of her rival. This proposed marriage, -which she might perhaps have prevented, she would now do everything in -her power to hasten forward; and poor Colombe would feel the full force -of her hatred. Yes, Benvenuto was right; that woman's love was in very -truth a terrible and deadly thing; but Colombe's love would surely be -the sublime, celestial sentiment of which the master had first spoken, -and alas! that immeasurable blessing was destined for another! - -Ascanio was in despair; he had believed in Madame d'Etampes's -friendship, and now it seemed that this deceitful friendship was a -dangerous passion; he had hoped for Colombe's love, and it seemed that -her supposititious passion was nothing more than indifferent friendship. -He felt that he almost hated both these women, who had so falsified his -dreams in that each of them regarded him as he would have liked to be -regarded by the other. - -Entirely absorbed by a feeling of hopeless discouragement, he did not -once think of the lily ordered by Madame d'Etampes, and in his jealous -anger he would not repeat his visit to the Petit-Nesle, despite the -entreaties and reproaches of Ruperta, whose innumerable questions he -left unanswered. Sometimes, however, he repented of the resolution he -made on the first day, which was assuredly cruel to none but himself. He -longed to see Colombe, to demand an explanation. But of what? Of his own -extravagant visions! However, he would see her, he would think in his -softer moments; he would confess his love to her as a crime, and she was -so tender-hearted that perhaps she would comfort him as if it were, a -misfortune. But how explain his absence, how excuse himself in the -maiden's eyes? - -Ascanio allowed the days to pass in innocent, sorrowful reflections, and -did not dare to take any decided step. - -Colombe awaited Ascanio's coming with mingled terror and joy on the day -following that on which Dame Perrine floored the apprentice with her -direful revelation; but in vain did she count the hours and the minutes, -in vain did Dame Perrine keep her ears on the alert. Ascanio, who had -recovered in good time from his swoon, and might have availed himself of -Colombe's gracious permission, did not come, attended by Ruperta, and -give the preconcerted signal at the door in the wall of the Petit-Nesle. -What did it mean? - -It meant that Ascanio was ill, dying perhaps, at all events too ill to -come. At least that was what Colombe thought; she passed the whole -evening kneeling at her prie-Dieu, weeping and praying, and when she -ceased to pray she found that she continued to weep. That discovery -terrified her. The anxiety which oppressed her heart was a revelation to -her. Indeed, there was sufficient cause for alarm, for in less than a -month Ascanio had taken possession of her thoughts to such a degree as -to make her forget her God, her father, and her misery. - -But there was room in her mind for nothing now but this: Ascanio was -suffering within two steps of her; he would die before she could see -him. It was no time to reason, but to weep and weep. If he should be -saved, she would reflect. - -The next day it was still worse. Perrine watched for Ruperta, and as -soon as she saw her leave the house rushed out to go to market for news -far more than for supplies. Now Ascanio was no longer seriously ill; he -had simply refused to go to the Petit-Nesle, without replying to Dame -Ruperta's eager questions otherwise than by obstinately keeping silent. -The two gossips were reduced to conjectures: such a thing was entirely -incomprehensible to them. - -Colombe, however, did not seek long for the explanation; she said to -herself at once:-- - -"He knows all: he has learned that in three months I shall be Comte -d'Orbec's wife, and he has no wish to see me again." - -Her first impulse was to be grateful to her lover for his anger, and to -smile. Let him explain this secret joy who can; we are simply the -historian. But soon, upon reflection, she took it ill of Ascanio that he -was able to believe that she was not in despair at the thought of such -a union. - -"So he despises me," she said to herself. - -All these impulses, indignant or affectionate, were very dangerous: they -laid bare the heart which before knew not itself. Colombe said to -herself aloud, that she did not desire to see Ascanio; but she -whispered, that she awaited his coming to justify herself. She suffered -in her timorous conscience; she suffered in her misapprehended love. - -It was not the only passion which Ascanio did not understand. There was -another more powerful, more impatient to make itself known, and which -dreamed darkly of happiness, as hatred dreams of vengeance. - -Madame d'Etampes did not believe, did not choose to believe, in -Ascanio's profound passion for Colombe. - -"A child who has no conception of what he really wants," she said to -herself, "who falls in love with the first pretty girl he sees, who has -come in collision with the high and mighty airs of an empty-headed -little fool, and whose pride takes offence at the least obstacle. Oh! -when he realizes what true love is, ardent, clinging love,--when he knows -that I, Duchesse d'Etampes, whose caprice rules a kingdom, love -him!--Ah! but he must know it!" - -The Vicomte de Marmagne and the Provost of Paris suffered in their -hatred, as Anne and Colombe suffered in their love. They harbored mortal -enmity to Benvenuto,--Marmagne especially. Benvenuto had caused him to -be despised and humiliated by a woman; Benvenuto constrained him to be -brave, for before the scene at the Hôtel d'Etampes the viscount might -have had him poniarded by his people on the street, but now he must -needs go and beard him in his own house, and Marmagne shuddered with -dismay at the prospect. We do not readily pardon those who force us to -realize that we are cowards. - -Thus all were suffering, even Scozzone. Scozzone the madcap laughed and -sang no more, and her eyes were often red with weeping. Benvenuto did -not love her. Benvenuto was always cold, and sometimes spoke sharply to -her. - -Scozzone had for a long time had a fixed idea, which had become a -monomania with her. She was determined to become Benvenuto's wife. When -she first went to him, expecting to serve him as a plaything, and he -treated her with all the consideration due a wife, and not as a mere -light o' love, the poor child was greatly exalted by such unlocked for -respect and honor, and at the same time she felt profoundly grateful to -her benefactor, and unaffectedly proud to find herself so highly -esteemed. Afterward, not at Benvenuto's command, but in response to his -entreaty, she gladly consented to serve him as model, and by dint of -seeing her own form and features so often reproduced, and so often -admired, in bronze, in silver, and in gold, she had simply attributed -half of the goldsmith's success to herself; for the lovely outlines, -which were so loudly praised, belonged to her much more than to the -master. She blushed with pleasure when Benvenuto was complimented upon -the purity of the lines of this or that figure; she complacently -persuaded herself that she was indispensable to her lover's renown, and -had become a part of his glory, even as she had become a part of his -heart. - -Poor child! she did not dream that she had never been to the artist that -secret inspiration, that hidden divinity, which every creator evokes, -and which makes him a creator. Because Benvenuto copied her graceful -attitudes, she believed in good faith that he owed everything to her, -and little by little she took courage to hope that, after raising the -courtesan to the rank of mistress, he would raise the mistress to the -rank of wife. - -As dissimulation was altogether foreign to her character, she had avowed -her ambition in very precise terms. Cellini listened to her gravely, and -replied,-- - -"This requires consideration." - -The fact was that he would have preferred to return to the Castle of San -Angelo at the risk of breaking his leg a second time in making his -escape. Not that he despised his dear Scozzone; he loved her dearly, and -sometimes a little jealously, as we have seen, but he adored art before -everything, and his true and lawful wife was sculpture first of all. -Furthermore, when he should be married, would not the husband depress -the spirits of the gay Bohemian? Would not the _pater-familias_ -interfere with the freedom of the sculptor? And, again, if he must marry -all his models, he would commit bigamy a hundred times over. - -"When I cease to love Scozzone, and to need her as a model," he said to -himself, "I will find some worthy fellow for her, too short-sighted to -look back into the past and to divine the future, who will see nothing -but a lovely woman and the marriage portion I will give her. Thus I will -satisfy her mania for wearing the name of wife, bourgeois fashion." For -Benvenuto was convinced that Scozzone's desire was simply to have a -husband, and that it mattered little to her who the husband might be. - -Meanwhile, he left the ambitious damsel to take what comfort she could -in her fancies. But since their installation at the Grand-Nesle, her -eyes had been opened, and she realized that she was not so necessary to -Cellini's life and work as she thought, for she could no longer with her -gayety dispel the cloud of melancholy which overhung his brow, and he -had begun to model a Hebe in wax for which she was not asked to pose. At -last, the poor child--_horribile dictu_!--had essayed to play the -coquette with Ascanio in Cellini's presence, and there had been not the -slightest drawing together of the eyebrows to bear witness to the -master's jealous wrath. Must she then bid farewell to all her blissful -dreams, and become once more a poor, humiliated creature? - -As to Pagolo, if any one cares to sound the depths of his heart, we -venture to say that he had never been more gloomy and taciturn than of -late. - -It may be imagined that the hilarious student, Jacques Aubry, had -escaped this contagious depression of spirits. Not at all; he had his -own cause for rejoining. Simonne, after waiting a long while for him on -the Sunday of the siege of Nesle, returned to the conjugal mansion in a -rage, and had since stubbornly refused to meet the impertinent embryo -lawyer upon any pretext whatsoever. He, in revenge, had withdrawn his -custom from his capricious charmer's husband, but that disgusting -tradesman evinced at the news no other sentiment than the keenest -satisfaction; for although Jacques Aubry wore out his clothes quickly -and recklessly--always excepting the pockets--we must add that his -guiding economical maxim was never to pay for them. When Simonne's -influence was no longer exerted as a counterpoise to the absence of -money, the selfish tailor concluded that the honor of dressing Jacques -Aubry did not compensate him for the loss he suffered by dressing him -for nothing. - -Thus our poor friend found himself at one and the same time bereft of -his love and cut short in his supply of clothing. Luckily, as we have -seen, he was not the man to wither away in melancholy. He soon fell in -with a charming little consolation named Gervaise. But Gervaise was -bristling all over with principles of all sorts, which to his mind were -most absurd. She eluded him again and again, and he wore his heart out -in devising means to bring the flirt to her senses. He almost lost the -power to eat and drink, especially as his infamous landlord, who was own -cousin to his infamous tailor, refused to give him credit. - -Thus all whose names have figured prominently in these pages were sorely -ill at ease,--from the king, who was very anxious to know whether -Charles V. would or would not conclude to pass through France, to Dame -Perrine and Dame Ruperta, who were much put out at their inability to -continue their gossip. If our readers, like Jupiter of old, had the -wearisome privilege of listening to all the complaints and all the -wishes of mankind, they would hear a plaintive chorus something like -this:-- - -Jacques Aubry: "If Gervaise would only cease to laugh in my face!" - -Scozzone: "If Benvenuto would only have one pang of jealousy!" - -Pagolo: "If Scozzone could only bring herself to detest the master!" - -Marmagne: "If I might have the good fortune to surprise Cellini alone!" - -Madame d'Etampes: "If Ascanio only knew how I love him!" - -Colombe: "If I could see him for one moment,--long enough to justify -myself!" - -Ascanio: "If she would only explain!" - -Benvenuto: "If I dared confess my agony to Ascanio!" - -All: "Alas! alas! alas!" - - - - -XV - - -WHEREIN IT APPEARS THAT JOY IS NOTHING MORE -THAN SORROW IN ANOTHER FORM - - -All these longings were to be gratified before the end of the week. But -their gratification was destined to leave those who had formed them more -unhappy and more melancholy than ever. Such is the universal law; every -joy contains the germ of sorrow. - -In the first place Gervaise ceased to laugh in Jacques Aubry's face; a -change most ardently desired by the student, as the reader will -remember. Jacques Aubry had discovered the golden fetters which were to -bind the damsel to his chariot. They consisted in a lovely ring carved -by Benvenuto himself, and representing two clasped hands. - -It should be said that, since the day of the siege, Jacques Aubry had -conceived a warm friendship for the outspoken and energetic nature of -the Florentine artist. He did not interrupt him when he was -speaking,--an unheard of thing! He kept his eyes fixed upon him and -listened to him with respect, which was more than he had ever consented -to do for his professors. He admired his work with an enthusiasm which, -if not very enlightened, was at least very warm and sincere. On the -other hand, his loyalty, his courage, and his jovial disposition -attracted Cellini. He was just strong enough at tennis to make a good -fight, but to lose in the end. He was his match at table, within a -bottle. In short he and the goldsmith had become the best friends in the -world, and Cellini, generous because his wealth was inexhaustible, had -one day forced him to accept this little ring, which was carved with -such marvellous skill that, in default of the apple, it would have -tempted Eve, and sown discord between Peleus and Thetis. - -On the morrow of the day when the ring passed from Jacques Aubry's hands -to those of Gervaise, Gervaise resumed a serious demeanor, and the -student hoped that she was his. Poor fool! on the contrary, he was hers. - -Scozzone succeeded, as she desired, in kindling a spark of jealousy in -Benvenuto's heart. This is how it came about. - -One evening, when her wiles and coquetries had as usual failed to arouse -the master from his imperturbable gravity, she assumed a solemn -expression herself. - -"Benvenuto," said she, "it seems to me, do you know, as if you had -forgotten your promise to me." - -"What promise is that, my dear child?" rejoined Benvenuto, apparently -seeking an explanation of her reproach from the ceiling. - -"Haven't you promised a hundred times to marry me?" - -"I don't remember it." - -"You don't remember it?" - -"No; I should say that my only reply was, 'This requires -consideration.'" - -"Well! have you considered it?" - -"Yes." - -"With what result?" - -"That I am still too young to be anything else than your lover, -Scozzone. We will speak of it again later." - -"And I am no longer foolish enough, monsieur, to be content with so -vague a promise as that, and to wait for you forever." - -"Do as you please, little one, and if you are in so great a hurry, go -ahead." - -"But what prejudice have you against marriage, after all? Why need it -make any change in your life? You will have made a poor girl, who loves -you, happy, that's all." - -"What change will it make in my life, Scozzone?" said Benvenuto gravely. -"You see yonder candle, whose pale flame but feebly lights this great -room where we are: I place an extinguisher over it, and now it is quite -dark. Marriage would do the same to my life. Light the candle again, -Scozzone: I detest the darkness." - -"I understand," cried Scozzone volubly, bursting into tears, "you bear -too illustrious a name to give to a poor girl, a nobody, who has given -you her heart and her life, all that she had to give, and is ready to -suffer everything for you, who lives only in your life, who loves only -you--" - -"I know it, Scozzone, and I assure you that I am as grateful as -possible." - -"Who has gladly done her best to enliven your solitude, who, knowing -your jealous disposition, never looks at the cavalcades of handsome -archers and sergeants, who has always closed her ears to the soft words -which she has not failed to hear, nevertheless, even here." - -"Even here?" rejoined Benvenuto. - -"Yes, here, even here, do you understand?" - -"Scozzone," cried Benvenuto, "it's not one of my comrades, I trust, who -has dared so to insult his master!" - -"He would marry me if I would let him," continued Scozzone, attributing -Cellini's wrath to a rejuvenescence of his love for her. - -"Scozzone, tell me the insolent varlet's name. It's not Ascanio, I -hope." - -"There is a man who has said to me more than a hundred times, -'Catherine, the master abuses you; he will never marry you, sweet and -pretty as you are; he is too proud for that. Oh! if he loved you as I -love you, or if you would love me as you love him!'" - -"Give me his name, the traitor's name!" cried Benvenuto. - -"But I simply would not listen to him," continued Scozzone, enchanted at -the success of her stratagem; "on the contrary, all his soft words were -wasted, and I threatened to tell you all if he kept on. I loved only -you. I was blind, and the gallant got nothing by his fine speeches and -his languishing looks. Oh, put on your indifferent air, and pretend not -to believe me! it is all true, none the less." - -"I do not believe you, Scozzone," said Benvenuto, who saw that, if he -desired to know his rival's name, he must employ a very different method -from any he had hitherto attempted. - -"What, you don't believe me?" - -"No." - -"You think that I am lying?" - -"I think that you are mistaken." - -"In your opinion, then, it's not possible for any one to love me?" - -"I don't say that." - -"But you think it?" - -Benvenuto smiled, for he saw that he had found a way to make Catherine -speak. - -"But there is some one who loves me, and that's the truth," continued -Scozzone. - -Benvenuto made another gesture indicating incredulity. - -"He loves me more than you ever loved me, more than you ever will love -me, monsieur, do you understand?" - -Benvenuto began to laugh heartily. - -"I am very curious to know who this gallant Médor is," he said. - -"His name is not Médor," retorted Catherine. - -"What then,--madis?" - -"Nor Amadis. His name is--" - -"Galaor?" - -"His name is Pagolo, if you must know." - -"Aha! so it's Monsieur Pagolo!" muttered Cellini. - -"Yes, it's Monsieur Pagolo," rejoined Scozzone, wounded by the -contemptuous tone in which Cellini uttered his rival's name,--"a boy of -good family, sedate, quiet, devout, and who would make a most excellent -husband." - -"Is that your opinion, Scozzone?" - -"Yes, it is my opinion." - -"And yet you have never given him any hope?" - -"I have never listened to him. Oh! I was a great fool! But after this--" - -"You are right, Scozzone; you should listen to him, and reply to him." - -"How so? What's that you say?" - -"I bid you listen when he speaks to you of love, and not turn him away. -I will attend to the rest." - -"But--" - -"But, never fear, I have my plan." - -"_À la bonne heure._ But I hope you don't propose to punish him very -severely, poor devil; he acts as if he were confessing his sins when he -says, 'I love you.' Play him a trick, if you choose, but not with your -sword. I ask mercy for him." - -"You will be content with my vengeance, Scozzone, for it will turn to -your advantage." - -"In what way?" - -"It will help to gratify one of your fondest desires." - -"What do you mean, Benvenuto?" - -"That is my secret." - -"Oh, if you knew what an absurd figure he cuts when he tries to be -tender!" said the volatile creature, incapable of remaining sad five -minutes in succession. "And so, naughty man, you are still interested to -know whether any one is paying court to your giddy girl? You do still -love poor Scozzone a little?" - -"Yes. But do not fail to follow the instructions I give you in regard to -Pagolo to the letter." - -"Oh, don't be afraid! I can play a part as well as another. It won't be -long before he will say to me, 'Catherine, are you still cruel?' and I -will reply, 'What! again, Monsieur Pagolo?' But in a not very indignant -tone, you understand,--encouraging rather. When he sees that I am no -longer harsh, he will think he's conquered the world. But what shall you -do to him, Benvenuto? When shall you begin to take your revenge upon -him? Will it be long drawn out, and very amusing? Shall we laugh?" - -"Yes, we shall laugh," Benvenuto replied. - -"And you will always love me?" - -Benvenuto imprinted an assenting kiss upon her forehead,--the best of -all answers, since it answers for everything without answering for -anything. - -Poor Scozzone did not suspect that Cellini's kiss was the beginning of -his vengeance. - -The Vicomte de Marmagne's wish that he might find Benvenuto alone was -also gratified. This is how it came about. - -Spurred on by the provost's anger, goaded by the memory of Madame -d'Etampes's disdain, and influenced above all by his inordinate avarice, -the viscount, having resolved to attack the lion in his den with the aid -of his two sbirri, selected for his enterprise Saint Eloy's day, when -the studio was likely to be deserted, as it was a holiday in the -goldsmith's guild. He was proceeding along the quay, with his head high, -and his heart beating fast, his two bravos walking ten steps behind him. - -"Well, well!" said a voice at his side: "here's a fine young gentleman -on amorous conquest bent, with his valorous bearing for the lady, and -his two sbirri for the husband." - -Marmagne turned, thinking that some one of his friends was speaking to -him, but he saw only a stranger who was going in the same direction as -himself, but whom in his absorption he had failed to observe. - -"I'll wager that I have guessed the truth, my fair sir," continued the -stranger. "I will bet my purse against yours, without knowing what it -contains, that you are out on some such errand. Oh, tell me nothing! -it's one's duty to be circumspect in love. My own name is Jacques Aubry; -my profession, student; and I am on my way at present to an appointment -with my sweetheart, Gervaise Philipot, a pretty girl, but, between -ourselves, of appalling virtue, which suffered shipwreck, however, upon -a certain ring. To be sure the ring was a jewel, and a jewel of -marvellous workmanship, nothing less than one of Benvenuto Cellini's -own!" - -Until then the Vicomte de Marmagne had hardly listened to the -confidences of his loquacious interlocutor, and had been careful not to -reply. But his interest was aroused by the name of Benvenuto Cellini. - -"One of Benvenuto Cellini's carvings! The devil! That's a royal gift for -a student to make!" - -"Oh! pray understand, my dear baron--Are you baron, count, or viscount?" - -"Viscount," said Marmagne, biting his lips at the impertinent -familiarity with which the student assumed to address him, but anxious -to find out if he could not procure some valuable information from him. - -"Pray understand, my dear viscount, that I did not buy it. No, although -I'm an artist in my way, I don't put my money into such trifles. -Benvenuto himself gave it to me in acknowledgment of my lending him a -hand last Sunday to take the Grand-Nesle from the provost." - -"Then you are Cellini's friend?" Marmagne inquired. - -"His most intimate friend, viscount, and I glory in it. Between -ourselves it's a friendship for life and death. Doubtless you also know -him?" - -"Yes." - -"You are very fortunate. A sublime genius, is he not, my dear fellow? -Pardon me: I say, 'my dear fellow,' but it's simply my way of speaking; -besides I think that I am nobly born, too,--at least my mother used to -tell my father so whenever he beat her. However, I am, as I told you, -the admirer, the confidant, the brother of the great Benvenuto Cellini, -and consequently a friend to his friends, and a foe to his foes; for my -sublime goldsmith doesn't lack foes. In the first place Madame -d'Etampes, secondly, the Provost of Paris, the old villain, and thirdly, -a certain Vicomte de Marmagne, a great, lanky creature, whom you perhaps -know, and who proposes, so they say, to take possession of the -Grand-Nesle. Pardieu! he'll have a warm reception!" - -"Benvenuto has heard of his claim, has he?" queried Marmagne, beginning -to take a very decided interest in the student's conversation. - -"He has been warned; but--Hold! I must, not tell you, so that the -aforesaid Marmagne may receive the chastisement he deserves." - -"From what you say I judge that Benvenuto is on his guard?" - -"On his guard? why, Benvenuto is always on his guard. He has come within -an ace of being assassinated, I don't know how many times; but, thank -God, he has always come safely out of it!" - -"What do you mean by on his guard?" - -"Oh! I don't mean that he has a garrison, as that old poltroon of a -provost had; no, no, quite the contrary. Indeed, he is entirely alone at -this moment as all the fellows have gone to Vanvres for a holiday. I was -to go myself, and play a game of tennis with him, dear Benvenuto. -Unluckily Gervaise's convenience conflicted with the great artist's, and -naturally, as you will agree, I gave the preference to Gervaise." - -"In that case I will take your place with Benvenuto," said Marmagne. - -"Do so; it will be a meritorious action on your part; go, my dear -viscount, and say to Benvenuto from me that he will see me this evening. -Three knocks, rather loud, is the signal, you know. He adopted that -precaution on account of that great oaf of a Marmagne, who is likely, so -he imagines, to try to play him some scurvy trick. Do you know this -Vicomte de Marmagne?" - -"No." - -"Ah! so much the worse! You might have described him to me." - -"What for?" - -"So that I might suggest a little game with clubs to him, if I should -fall in with him. I don't know why it is, but although I never saw him, -do you know I particularly detest your Marmagne, my dear fellow, and if -he ever falls in my way, I propose to pummel him in fine shape. But -pardon me: here we are at the Augustins, and I am compelled to leave -you. By the way, what is your name, my friend?" - -The viscount walked away as if he did not hear the question. - -"Aha!" said Jacques Aubry, "it seems that we prefer to remain _incog_; -that's the purest chivalry, or I don't know myself. As you please, my -dear viscount, as you please." - -And Jacques Aubry thrust his hands in his pockets and strutted down Rue -de Battoir, at the end of which Gervaise lived, whistling a student's -song. - -The Vicomte de Marmagne continued his journey toward the Grand-Nesle. - -Benvenuto was in fact alone, as Jacques Aubry had said; Ascanio had -wandered away, I know not where, to dream; Catherine had gone with -Ruperta to visit one of her friends, and all the workmen and apprentices -were holiday making at Vanvres. - -The master was in the garden working at the clay model of his gigantic -statue of Mars, whose colossal head could see the Louvre over the roof's -of the Grand-Nesle, when little Jehan, who was on guard at the door for -the day, deceived by Marmagne's manner of knocking, took him for a -friend, and admitted him with his two sbirri. - -If Benvenuto did not, like Titian, work with his coat of mail upon his -back, he did, like Salvator Rosa, work with his sword at his side, and -his carbine within reach of his hand. Marmagne therefore quickly -discovered that life had gained very little by surprising him; he had -simply surprised an armed man. - -The viscount did not even try to dissemble his bravado born of -poltroonery; and when Cellini, in an imperative tone which called for an -immediate reply, demanded why he had come upon his premises,-- - -"I have no business with you," was his answer; "I am the Vicomte de -Marmagne; I am the king's secretary, and here is an order from his -Majesty," he added, holding a paper above his head, "which allots a -portion of the Grand-Nesle to me; I am here to make provision for -arranging to my taste that portion of the hotel which is allotted to me, -and which I shall occupy henceforth." - -With that, Marmagne, still followed by his two sbirri, stalked toward -the door of the château. - -Benvenuto seized his carbine, which was, as we have said, within his -reach, and with one bound stood in front of the door on the stoop. - -"Halt where you are!" he cried in a terrible voice, stretching out his -right arm in Marmagne's direction; "one step more, and you're a dead -man!" - -The viscount at once stopped short, although after these preliminaries -we might perhaps have anticipated a desperate conflict. - -But there are men to whom is given the power to strike terror to other -men's hearts. There is an indescribable something in their look, their -gestures, their attitude, as in the look, the gestures, and the attitude -of the lion. The air about them is instinct with awe; their power is -felt afar off. When they stamp upon the ground, clench their fists, knit -their brows, or inflate their nostrils, the boldest hesitate to attack -them. A wild beast, whose young are attacked, has but to bristle up and -breathe noisily to make the assailant tremble. The men of whom we speak -are living dangers. Valiant hearts recognize their like in them, and go -straight forward to meet them, despite their secret emotion. But the -weak, the timid, the cowardly, recoil at sight of them. - -Now Marmagne, as the reader has discovered, was not a valiant heart, and -Benvenuto had all the appearance of a living danger. - -And so when the viscount heard the redoubtable goldsmith's voice, and -observed the imperial gesture of the arm extended toward him, he -realized that death for himself and his two sbirri lay dormant in the -carbine, the sword, and the dagger with which he was armed. - -Furthermore, little Jehan, seeing that his master was threatened, had -armed himself with a pike. - -Marmagne felt that his game was up, and that he would be only too -fortunate if he could extricate himself safe and sound from the wasps' -nest he had stumbled upon. - -"It's all right! it's all right! Messire Goldsmith," he said. "All that -we wanted was to know whether you were or were not disposed to obey his -Majesty's orders. You scoff at them, and refuse to abide by them! Very -good! We shall apply to some one who will find a way to compel their -execution. But do not hope that we shall do ourselves the honor of -bargaining with you. _Bonsoir_!" - -"_Bonsoir_!" said Benvenuto, with his hearty laugh. "Jehan, show these -gentlemen out." - -The viscount and his two sbirri shamefacedly retreated from the -Grand-Nesle, cowed by one man, and shown out by a mere boy. - -Such was the lamentable result of the fulfilment of the viscount's wish: -"If only I could find Benvenuto alone!" - -As he had been even more cruelly treated by fate in the matter of his -desires than Jacques Aubry and Scozzone, who did not even yet detect the -irony of destiny, our valorous viscount was furious. - -"Madame d'Etampes was right," he said to himself, "and I am fain to -follow the advice she gave me; I must break my sword and sharpen my -dagger. This devil of a man is just what he is said to be, very -intolerant, and not at all agreeable. I saw it written plainly enough in -his eyes, that if I took another step I was a dead man; but in every -lost cause there is a possibility of revenge. Look well to yourself, -Master Benvenuto! look well to yourself!" - -He proceeded to lay the blame upon his companions, who were tried men, -however, and would have asked nothing better than to earn their money -honestly, by slaying or being themselves slain: in retiring, they had -simply obeyed their master's orders. They promised to give a better -account of themselves in an ambuscade; but as Marmagne, to shield his -own honor, claimed that the check he had met with was due to them, he -informed them that he did not propose to accompany them in their next -undertaking, and that they must go through with it alone as best they -could. It was the very thing they most desired. - -Having enjoined silence upon them concerning their recent experience, he -called upon the Provost of Paris, and informed him that he had concluded -that the surest way to avoid all suspicion was to postpone Benvenuto's -punishment until some day when, as frequently happened, he ventured into -a lonely, deserted street with a considerable sum of money, or some -valuable piece of his handiwork. Then it would be believed that he had -been murdered by robbers. - -It now remains for us to see how the wishes of Madame d'Etampes, -Ascanio, and Cellini were gratified to their increased sorrow. - - - - -XVI - - -A COURT - - -Meanwhile Ascanio had completed the design for his lily, and, perhaps -from mere curiosity, perhaps under the influence of the magnet which -attracts the wretched to those who sympathize with them, he at once -repaired to the Hôtel d'Etampes. It was about two o'clock in the -afternoon, and just at that hour the duchess was sitting upon her -throne, surrounded by a veritable court; but similar orders to those -which were given at the Louvre relating to Benvenuto, were given at the -Hôtel d'Etampes for Ascanio. He was therefore at once escorted to a -reception-room, and his arrival was made known to the duchess. - -She trembled with joy at the thought that the young man was about to see -her in all her splendor, and gave certain orders in a low tone to -Isabeau, who had brought her the message, Isabeau returned to Ascanio, -took him by the hand without a word, led him into a corridor, raised a -heavy curtain, and gently pushed him forward. He found himself in the -duchess's salon, immediately behind the arm-chair of the sovereign of -the mansion, who guessed his presence more by the thrill which ran -through her whole being than by the rustling of the curtain, and gave -him her fair hand to kiss over her shoulder, which his lips almost -touched in the position in which he stood. - -The lovely duchess was, as we have said, surrounded by a veritable -court. At her right was seated the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, ambassador of -Charles V.; Monsieur de Montbrion, governor of Charles d'Orléans, the -king's second son, was at her left; the rest of the company sat in a -circle at her feet. - -With the leading personages of the kingdom--warriors, statesmen, -magistrates, artists,--were assembled the leaders of the Protestant -sect, which Madame d'Etampes secretly favored; great nobles all, and -much courted, who had constituted themselves courtiers of the favorite. -It was a gorgeous throng, and dazzling to the eyes at first sight. The -conversation was enlivened with satirical remarks of all sorts -concerning Diane de Poitiers, mistress of the Dauphin, and the bitter -enemy of Madame d'Etampes. But Anne took no part in this petty warfare -of quips and cranks, save by a word or two thrown in at random now and -then, as, "Softly, messieurs, softly! no abuse of Madame Diane, or -Endymion will be angry!" or, "Poor Madame Diane! she was married the day -I was born!" - -Except for these sparks with which she lighted up the conversation, -Madame d'Etampes hardly spoke to anybody beside her two neighbors. She -talked with them in undertones, but with great animation, and not so low -that Ascanio, who was humble and abashed among so many great men, could -not hear her. - -"Yes, Monsieur de Montbrion," said she confidentially to her left hand -neighbor, "we must make an admirable prince of your pupil; he is the -real king of the future, you know. I am ambitious for the dear child, -and I am engaged at this moment in carving out an independent -sovereignty for him in case God should take his father from us. Henri -II., a poor creature, between ourselves, will be King of France; so be -it. Our king will be a French king, and we will leave Madame Diane and -Paris to his elder brother. But we will take with us, with our Charles, -the heart of Paris. The court will be where I am, Monsieur de Montbrion; -I shall displace the sun. We shall have great painters like Primaticcio, -charming poets like Clement Marot, who is fidgeting about yonder in his -corner without speaking, a sure proof that he would like an opportunity -to repeat some verses to us. All these people are at heart more vain -than selfish, and more thirsty for glory than for money. Ant he who has -the greatest wealth, but he who will flatter them most freely, will have -them on his side. And he who has them will be always great, for they -will shed lustre upon any place upon which their rays fall. The Dauphin -cares for naught but jousting! Oh, well! let him keep the lances and -swords, and we will take the pens and the brushes with us. Never fear, -Monsieur de Montbrion, I will never allow myself to be put down by -Madame Diane, the queen in expectancy. Let her wait patiently till time -and chance give her kingdom. I shall have made one for myself twice -over meanwhile. What say you to the Duchy of Milan? There you will not -be very far from your friends at Geneva; for I know that you are not -altogether indifferent to the new doctrine blown over from Germany. -Hush! we will speak of this again, and I will tell you things that will -surprise you. Why has Madame Diane assumed to set herself up as -protectress of the Catholics? She protects, I protest; that's the -difference between us." - -With an imperative gesture and a meaning glance, Madame d'Etampes -brought her confidences upon this subject to a close, leaving the -governor of Charles d'Orléans sadly bewildered. He was on the point of -replying, nevertheless, but found that the duchess had already turned to -the Duke of Medina-Sidonia. - -We have said that Ascanio could hear all. - -"Well, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," so Madame d'Etampes began, "does the -Emperor finally conclude to pass through France? He can hardly do -otherwise, to tell the truth, and a net on land is always preferable to -a yawning gulf at sea. His cousin Henry VIII. would have no scruples -about kidnapping him, and if he escaped the English he would fall into -the hands of the Turk. By land the three Protestant princes would oppose -his passage. What can he do? He must either proceed through France, or -else--cruel sacrifice!--forego the chastisement of the rebels of Ghent, -his dear compatriots. For our great Emperor Charles is a good burgher of -Ghent. That is very evident in the slight respect which he has shown on -occasion for Royal Majesty. Memories of that sort are what make him so -timid and circumspect to-day, Monsieur de Medina. Oh, we understand it -all! He fears that the King of France will avenge the prisoner in Spain, -and that the prisoner at Paris may pay the balance of the ransom due -from the prisoner of the Escurial. O mon Dieu! let his mind be at ease; -even if he does not comprehend our chivalrous loyalty, he has heard of -it, I trust." - -"Most assuredly, Madame la Duchesse," said the ambassador, "we know the -loyalty of François I. when left to his own devices, but we fear--" - -The duke paused. - -"You fear his advisers, do you not?" rejoined the duchess. "Yes, yes! -Oh, I know very well that advice from a pretty mouth, advice which -should take a clever and satirical form, would never fail of influence -upon a king's mind. It is your duty to think of that, Monsieur -l'Ambassadeur, and take your precautions accordingly. After all, you -must have full powers, or, if not full powers, a little paper signed in -blank, wherein a good many things can be inserted in a few words. We -know how it's done. We have studied diplomacy; indeed, I once asked the -king to make me an ambassador, for I believe that I have a decided -talent for negotiation. Yes, I am sure that it would be very painful for -Charles V. to give up a slice of his empire in order to obtain his -release, or to assure his inviolability. On the other hand, Flanders is -one of the fairest jewels of his crown; it is the inheritance of his -mother, Marie de Bourgogne, and it is hard to renounce the patrimony of -one's ancestors with a stroke of the pen, especially when that patrimony -is a great duchy, which may well be transformed into a little monarchy. -But what am I saying, mon Dieu! I, who have a perfect horror of -politics, for it is universally agreed that politics and women do not go -well together. To be sure, I let fall a word or two thoughtlessly now -and then on affairs of state, but if his Majesty presses me and insists -upon my expressing my thoughts more fully, I beg him to spare me such -tiresome discussions, and sometimes I run away and leave him alone to -dream upon them. You, clever diplomatist that you are, and who know -mankind so well, will tell me that these words tossed into the air are -just the ones which take root in minds like the king's, and that such -words, which are supposed to have been blown away by the wind, almost -always have more weight than a long harangue which is not listened to. -That may be, Monsieur le Duc de Medina, that may be, but I am only a -poor woman, engrossed with ribbons and gewgaws, and you understand all -these serious matters a thousand times better than I; but the lion may -have need of the ant, the skiff may save the ship. We are here to come -to an understanding, Monsieur le Duc, and that's all we have to do." - -"If you choose, madame," said the ambassador, "it will be very quickly -done." - -"Who gives to-day receives to-morrow," continued the duchess, evading a -direct reply; "my womanly instinct will always lead me to advise -François I. to perform great and generous deeds, but instinct often -turns its back on reason. We must also think of our interest, of the -interest of France, of course. But I have confidence in you, Monsieur de -Medina; I will ask your advice, and upon the whole I think that the -Emperor will do well to rely upon the king's word. - -"Ah! if you were in our interest, madame, he would not hesitate." - -"Master Clement Marot," said the duchess, abruptly breaking off the -conversation, as if she had not heard the ambassador's last exclamation; -"Master Clement Marot, do you not happen to have some flowing madrigal, -or some stately sonnet to repeat to us?" - -"Madame," said the poet, "sonnets and madrigals are natural flowers -beneath your feet, and grow apace in the sunshine of your lovely eyes: -half a score of lines have come to my mind simply from looking into -them." - -"Indeed, master! Very good! we will listen to them. Ah! Messire le -Prévôt, welcome; pray forgive me for not seeing you at once. Have you -news of your future son-in-law, our friend Comte d'Orbec?" - -"Yes, madame," replied D'Estourville, "he writes that he is to hasten -his return, and we shall soon see him, I trust." - -A half suppressed sigh made Madame d'Etampes start, but she said, -without turning toward its author:-- - -"He will be welcomed by us all. Well, Vicomte de Marmagne," she -continued, "have you found the sheath of your dagger?" - -"No, madame; but I am on the trace of it, and I know how and where to -find it now." - -"Good luck to you then, Monsieur le Vicomte, good luck to you. Are you -ready, Master Clement? we are all ears." - -"The subject is the duchy of Etampes," said Marot. - -A murmur of approval ran through the room, and the poet recited the -following lines in an affected voice:-- - - -"Ce plaisant val que l'on nomme Tempé -Dont mainte histoire est encore embellie, -Arrosé d'eau, si doux, si attrempé, -Sachez que plus il n'est en Thessalie; -Jupiter, roi qui les cœurs gagne et lie, -L'a de Thessale en France remué, -Et quelque peu son propre nom mué, -Car pour Tempé veut qu'Etampes s'appelle, -Ainsi lui plait, ainsi l'a situé -Pour y loger de France la plus belle."[7] - - -Madame d'Etampes clapped her hands and smiled, and all the hands and all -the lips applauded after her. - -"Faith!" said she, "I see that Jupiter transported Pindarus to France -when he transported Tempe." - -With that the duchess rose, and all the company followed suit. She was -fully justified in deeming herself the veritable queen; and it was a -true queenly gesture with which she took leave of her guests, and it was -as a queen that all sainted her as they withdrew. - -"Remain," she said in a low voice to Ascanio. - -Ascanio obeyed. - -But when all the others had left the room, it was no haughty and -disdainful queen, but an humble and passionate woman, who turned and -confronted the young artist. - -Ascanio, born of humble parents, brought up far from the world, in the -almost cloister-like twilight of the studio, and an unaccustomed guest -in palaces, whither he had accompanied his master only on rare -occasions, was already giddy, confused, dazzled by the light and noise -and conversation. His mind was attacked by something very like vertigo -when he heard Madame d'Etampes speak in such simple terms, or rather so -coquettishly, of such grave subjects, and touch lightly in familiar -phrase upon the destinies of kings and the dismemberment of kingdoms. -The woman, like a very Providence, had in some sort distributed to each -one his portion of joy or sorrow; she had with the same hand rattled -fetters and let crowns fall. And lo! this sovereign of the loftiest -earthly things, proud as Lucifer with her noble flatterers, turned to -him not only with the soft glance of the loving woman, but with the -suppliant air of the slave who fears. Ascanio had suddenly become the -leading character in the play, instead of a simple spectator. - -It should be said that the coquettish duchess had skilfully planned and -brought about this effect. Ascanio was conscious of the empire which -this woman assumed, despite his efforts to combat it, not over his -heart, but over his mind; and like the child that he was, he sought to -hide his trouble beneath a cold, stern demeanor. It may perhaps be that -he had seen his spotless Colombe pass like a ghost between the duchess -and himself,--Colombe with her white robe and her luminous brow. - - -[Footnote 7: - -That lovely valley called the Vale of Tempe, -Whose refreshing shade doth many a tale adorn. -Watered by cool and limpid streamlets, -Is no more to be found in Thessaly: -For Jupiter, the king who conquers hearts and binds them, -Has bodily transported it from Thessaly to France, -And in a slight degree has changed its name: -For _Tempe_ read _Etampes_; such is his will, -And he hath so ordained, and placed it there, -That there might dwell she who is France's loveliest.] - - - - -XVII - - -LOVE AS PASSION - - -"Madame," said Ascanio, "you requested me to design a lily, do you -remember? You ordered me to bring the design to you as soon as it should -be completed. I completed it this morning, and I have it here." - -"We have time enough, Ascanio," said the duchess, with a smile, and in a -siren's voice. "Sit you down, pray. Well, my bonny invalid, what of your -wound?" - -"I am entirely recovered, madame." - -"So far as your shoulder is concerned; but here?" said the duchess, -laying her hand upon the young man's heart, with a graceful gesture, and -a world of sentiment in her tone. - -"I beg you, madame, to forget all that nonsense; I am very angry with -myself for having annoyed your ladyship with it." - -"O mon Dieu! what means this air of constraint? What means this clouded -brow, and this harsh voice? All those men wearied you, did they not, -Ascanio?--and as for myself, I hate and abhor them, but I fear them! Oh -how I longed to be alone with you! Did you not see how quickly I -dismissed them?" - -"You are right, madame; I felt sadly out of place in such a -distinguished company. I, a poor artist, who am here simply to show you -this lily." - -"Ah! mon Dieu! in a moment, Ascanio," continued the duchess, slinking -her head; "you are very cold, and very sober with a friend. The other -day you were so expansive and so delightful! Why this change, Ascanio? -Doubtless some speech of your master's, who cannot endure me. How could -you listen to him, Ascanio? Come, be frank; you have discussed me with -him, have you not? and he told you that it was dangerous to trust me; -that the friendly feeling I had manifested for you concealed some snare; -he told you, did he not, that I detest you?" - -"He told me that you loved me, madame," retorted Ascanio, looking -earnestly into her face. - -Madame d'Etampes was speechless for a moment, in presence of the -thoughts which rushed through her mind. She wished without doubt that -Ascanio should know her love, but she would have liked time to prepare -him for it, and to extinguish gradually, without seeming interested in -so doing, his passion for Colombe. How that the ambuscade she had -arranged was discovered, she must fight her battle in the broad -daylight, and win the victory openly if at all. She made her decision in -a second. - -"Well, yes," said she, "I do love you. Is it a crime? Is it a sin even? -Can one command one's love or hatred? You should never nave known that I -love you. For why tell you, when you love another? But that man revealed -the whole truth, he laid bare my heart to you, and he did well, Ascanio. -Look upon it, and you will see there adoration so deep that you can but -be touched by it. And now, Ascanio, you must love me too, mark that." - -Anne d'Etampes, a potent, superior nature, disdainful by instinct and -ambitious from weariness of her surroundings had had several lovers -hitherto, but not one love. She had fascinated the king, Admiral Brion -had taken her by surprise, the Comte de Longueval caught her fancy for -the moment, but throughout all these intrigues the head had always taken -the place of the heart. At last, one day she found this young, true -love, tender and deep, which she had so often summoned without avail, -and now another woman disputed its possession with her. Ah! so much the -worse for that other woman! She could not know what an irresistible -passion she had to contend with. All the determination and all the -violent impulses of her heart, she, Anne d'Etampes, would make manifest -in her affection. That woman did not yet know what a fatal thing it -would be to have the Duchesse d'Etampes for her rival, the Duchesse -d'Etampes, who desired to have her Ascanio to herself, and whose power -was such that she could, with a look, a word, a gesture, crush whatever -might come between him and herself. The die was cast, the ambition and -the beauty of the king's mistress were thenceforth to serve no other -masters than her love for Ascanio and her jealousy of Colombe. - -Poor Colombe, at that moment bending over her embroidery, sitting at her -spinning-wheel, or kneeling before her prie-Dieu! - -Ascanio, in presence of so outspoken and so redoubtable a passion, felt -fascinated, carried away, and dismayed, all at the same moment. -Benvenuto had said, and Ascanio now realized, that this was no mere -whim; but he was deficient, not in the strength to struggle, but in the -experience which would have taught him to feign submission. He was -hardly twenty years old, and was too candid to pretend; he fancied, poor -child, that the memory of Colombe, the name of the innocent girl uttered -by him, would be an offensive and defensive weapon, a sword and a -shield, while on the other hand it was sure to drive the shaft still -deeper into the heart of Madame d'Etampes, who perhaps would soon have -grown weary of a love in which she had no rival and no battle to wage. - -"Come, Ascanio," she resumed more calmly, seeing that the young man held -his peace, alarmed perhaps by the words she had let fall, "let us for -to-day forget my love, which an imprudent word of yours inopportunely -awakened. Let us think now of yourself only. Oh! I love you more on your -own account than mine, I swear to you. I long to brighten your life as -you have brightened mine. You are an orphan, take me for your mother. -You heard what I said to Montbrion and Medina, and you may have thought -that I am all ambition. 'T is true, I am ambitious, but for you alone. -How long is it since I conceived this project of creating an independent -duchy in the heart of Italy for a son of France? Only since I have loved -you. If I were queen there, who would be the veritable king? You. For -you I would cause empire and kingdom to change places! Ah! Ascanio, you -do not know me; you do not know what a woman I am. You see that I tell -you the whole truth, I unfold my plans to you without reserve. How do -you, in your turn, confide in me, Ascanio. What are your wishes, that I -may fulfil them! What are your passions, that I may minister to them!" - -"Madame, I desire to be as frank and loyal as yourself, and to tell you -the truth, as you have told it to me. I ask nothing, I wish nothing, I -long for nothing, save Colombe's love." - -"But she loves you not; you yourself told me so!" - -"I was desperate the other day, true. But to-day who can say?" Ascanio -lowered his eyes and his voice: "For you love me!" he added. - -The duchess was taken aback by this instance of the instinctive -divination of true love. There was a moment of silence, and that moment -sufficed for her to collect her thoughts. - -"Ascanio, let us not talk to-day of affairs of the heart," she said. "I -made that request once before; I make it again. Love isn't the whole of -life to you men. For instance, have you never thirsted for wealth, -honors, glory?" - -"Oh! yes, yes! for a month past I have most ardently longed for them," -replied Ascanio, always reverting to the same idea in spite of himself. - -Again there was a pause. - -"Are you fond of Italy?" Anne resumed with effort. - -"Yes, madame," said Ascanio. "There are flowering orange groves there, -beneath which it is so pleasant to wander and converse. There the bluest -of blue skies surrounds, caresses, and adorns everything that is -beautiful." - -"Oh, to fly thither with you!--to have you all to myself!--to be all in -all to you, as you would be all in all to me! Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" cried -the duchess, likewise yielding to the irresistible force of her love. -But she at once recovered herself, fearing to frighten Ascanio again, -and continued: "I thought that you loved art before everything." - -"Before everything I love--to love!" said Ascanio. "Oh! it is my great -master Cellini, not I, who throws his whole being into his work. He is -the great, the marvellous, the sublime artist! I am a poor apprentice, -nothing more. I came to France with him, not to acquire wealth, nor -glory, but because I loved him, that's all, and it was impossible for me -to part from him; for at that time he was everything to me. I have no -personal will, no strength independent of his strength. I became a -goldsmith to gratify him, and because he wished it, as I became a carver -because of his enthusiasm for skilful and delicate carving." - -"Very well," said the duchess, "now listen: to live in Italy, -all-powerful, almost a king; to patronize artists, Cellini at their -head; to give him bronze, and silver and gold, to carve and cast and -mould; and beyond all that, to love and be loved. Say, Ascanio, is it -not a lovely dream?" - -"It would be Paradise, madame, if it were Colombe whom I loved and who -loved me." - -"Still Colombe, always Colombe!" cried the duchess. "So be it; since the -subject persistently forces itself into our words and our thoughts; -since your Colombe is here with us, constantly before your eyes, and -constantly in your heart, let us speak of her and of myself frankly and -without hypocrisy: she does not love you, and you know it full well." - -"Oh, no! I do not know it now, madame." - -"But how can she love you when she is to marry another?" cried the -duchess. - -"Her father forces her, perhaps." - -"Her father forces her! And do you think that if you loved me as you -loved her,--do you think that if I were in her place there is in this -wide world any force or will or power that could keep us apart? Oh, I -would leave everything, I would fly from everything, I would run to your -arms, and would give you my love, my honor, and my life to guard! No, -no! I say she does not love you. And now would you have me tell you -something else? you do not love her!" - -"What! I not love Colombe! I think you said that I do not love her, -madame?" - -"No, you do not love her. You deceive yourself. At your age, one -mistakes the need of loving for love. If you had seen me first, you -would love me instead of her. Oh, when I think that you might have loved -me! But no, no! it is much better that you should choose me in -preference to her. I do not know this Colombe; she is lovely and pure, -and whatever you choose; but these slips of girls know nothing about -loving. Your Colombe would never have told you what I, whom you despise, -have just said; she would have too much vanity, too much diffidence, too -much shame perhaps. But my love is simple, and expresses itself in -simple words. You despise me, you think that I forget my sex, and all -because I don't dissemble. Some day, when you know the world better, -when you have drunk so deeply of life that you have reached the -dregs,--sorrow,--then you will think better of your present injustice, -then you will admire me. But I do not choose to be admired, Ascanio, I -choose to be loved. I say again, Ascanio, if I loved you less, I might -be false, artful, coquettish; but I love you too well to try to -fascinate you. I long to receive your heart as a gift, not to steal it. -What will be the end of your love for that child? Tell me. You will -suffer, my best beloved, and that's all. But I can serve you in many -ways. In the first place, I have suffered for two, and perhaps God will -permit my surplusage of suffering to be credited to you; and then I lay -my wealth, my power, my experience, all at your feet. I will add my life -to yours, and will save you from all sorts of missteps and from all -forms of corruption. To arrive at fortune, or even to attain glory, an -artist must often stoop to base, crawling expedients. You will be beyond -all necessity for that with me. I will lift you ever higher and higher; -I will be your stepping-stone. With me you will continue to be the -proud, the noble, the pure Ascanio." - -"But Colombe! Colombe, madame! Is not she too an immaculate pearl?" - -"My child, believe what I say," replied the duchess, relapsing from -feverish exaltation to melancholy. "Your pure white, innocent Colombe -will make your life monotonous and dreary. You are both too divine. God -didn't make angels to be joined together, but to make bad people -better." - -The duchess's manner was so eloquent, and her voice so sincere, that -Ascanio was conscious of a thrill of affectionate compassion stealing -over him, in spite of himself. - -"Alas! madame," he said, "I see that I am indeed honored by your -affection, and I am very deeply touched; but it is even better to love!" - -"Oh, how true! how true that is! I prefer your disdain to the king's -softest words. Ah me! I love for the first time: for the first time, I -swear!" - -"And the king? pray do you not love him, madame?" - -"No, I am his mistress, but he is not my master." - -"But he loves you!" - -"Mon Dieu!" cried Anne, gazing earnestly into Ascanio's face, and -seizing both his hands in hers: "Am I so fortunate that you are jealous? -Does the king's love offend you? Listen: hitherto I have been in your -eyes the duchess, wealthy, noble, powerful, offering to stir up crowned -heads and overturn thrones. Do you prefer the poor, lonely woman, out of -the world, with a simple white robe, and a wild flower in her hair? Do -you prefer that, Ascanio? Let us leave Paris, the court, the world! Let -us take refuge in some far off nook in your sunny Italy, beneath the -lofty pines of Rome, or on the shores of your lovely Bay of Naples. Here -I am: I am ready. O Ascanio, Ascanio, does it really flatter your pride, -that I would sacrifice a crowned lover for your sake?" - -"Madame," said Ascanio, whose heart was beginning to melt in the flame -of so great a passion, "madame, my heart is too proud and too exacting; -you cannot give me the past." - -"The past! O you men, you men! always cruel! The past! In God's name -ought an unfortunate woman to be compelled to answer for her past, when -it has almost always been made what it was by events and circumstances -stronger than herself? Suppose that a storm should arise and a whirlwind -carry you off to Italy; when you return, one year, two years, three -years hence, should you take it ill of your Colombe, whom you love so -dearly to-day, because she had obeyed her parents and married Comte -d'Orbec? Would you make her virtue a subject of reproach? would you -punish her for obeying one of God's commandments? And if she had not -your memory to feed upon, if she had never known you,--if, in her -deathly ennui, crushed with grief, forgotten for a moment by God, she -had sought to gain some knowledge of that paradise called love, the door -of which was closed to her,--if she had loved another than her husband, -whom she could not love,--if in a moment of delirium she had given her -heart in exchange for another,--she would then be ruined in your eyes, -dishonored in your heart. She could no longer hope to be blessed by your -love, because she had not an unsullied past to give in exchange for your -heart. Oh! I repeat, it is unjust, it is cruel!" - -"Madame--" - -"Who told you that is not my story? Listen to what I say, and -believe what I declare to be the truth. I say again that I have suffered -for both; and this poor woman, whom God forgives, you refuse to forgive. -You do not understand how much greater and nobler it is to raise one's -self from the abyss after falling into it, than to pass close by without -seeing it, having the bandage of happiness over your eyes. O Ascanio, -Ascanio! I deemed you better than the others, because you were younger, -and fairer to look upon--" - -"O madame!" - -"Reach me your hand, Ascanio, and at one bound I will spring from the -bottom of the abyss to your heart. Will you? To-morrow I will have -broken with the king, the court, the world. Oh, I am valiant in love! -But I do not wish to make myself any greater than I am. It would be but -a trifling sacrifice for me, believe me. All these men are not worth one -glance from you. But, if you would trust to me, dear child, you would -let me retain my authority, and continue my plans for you. I would make -you great, and you men can do without love if you attain glory: you are -ambitious,--you may not know it yet, but you are. As for the king's -love, don't be alarmed about that: I will turn it aside upon some other -to whom he will give his heart while I retain his mind. Choose, Ascanio. -Powerful through my means and with me, or I humble through your means -and with you. Look you: a short time since, as you know, I was in this -chair, and the most powerful courtiers were at my feet. Sit you in my -place: sit you there, and behold me at your feet. Oh, how I love to be -here, Ascanio! oh what bliss to see you and look into your eyes! You -turn pale, Ascanio! Oh, if you would but tell me that you would love me -some day, though not for a long, a very long while!" - -"Madame! madame!" cried Ascanio, hiding his face in his hands, and -covering eyes and ears, so conscious was he of the potent fascination of -the aspect and the accent of the siren. - -"Do not call me madame, do not call me Anne," said the duchess, putting -aside his hands: "call me Louise. It is also my name, but a name by -which no one has ever called me, and it shall be yours. Louise! -Louise!--Do you not think it a sweet name, Ascanio?" - -"I know one sweeter still," replied Ascanio. - -"Beware, Ascanio!" cried the wounded lioness: "if you make me suffer too -keenly, I may perhaps come to hate you as much as I love you." - -"Mon Dieu!" replied the young man, shaking his head, as if to avert the -spell: "Mon Dieu! you confuse my thoughts, and overwhelm my heart! Am I -delirious? Have I a fever? Am I dreaming? If I say harsh things to you, -forgive me, for I do it to awaken myself. I see you, lovely, adored, a -queen, here at my feet. It cannot be that such temptations exist except -to lead souls to perdition. Ah! you are, as you say, in an abyss; but -instead of rising out of it yourself, you would draw me in. Oh, do not -expose my weakness to such a trial!" - -"There is neither temptation, nor trial, nor dream; there is a -resplendent reality for us both: I love you, Ascanio, I love you!" - -"You love me, but you will repent of your love hereafter and will -reproach me some day for what you have brought into my life, or what I -have taken away from yours." - -"Ah! you do not know me," cried the duchess, "if you think me weak -enough to repent. Stay: will you have a pledge?" - -Anne hastily seated herself at a table upon which were writing -materials, and, seizing a pen, dashed off a few words. - -"Take this," she said, "and doubt me again, if you dare!" - -Ascanio took the paper and read:-- - - -"Ascanio, I love you: go with me where I go, or let -me go with you where you go. - -"ANNE D'HEILLY." - - -"Oh, that cannot be, madame! It seems to me that my love would be a -cause of shame to you." - -"Shame!" cried the duchess: "do I know shame? I am too proud for that. -My pride is my virtue!" - -"Ah! I know a lovelier and more saintly virtue than that," said Ascanio, -clinging to the thought of Colombe with a desperate effort. - -The blow struck home. The duchess rose, trembling with indignation. - -"You are an obstinate, hard-hearted child, Ascanio," she said in a -broken voice: "I would fain have spared you much suffering, but I see -that sorrow alone can teach you what life is. You will come back to me, -Ascanio; you will return wounded, bleeding, heartbroken, and you will -know then the worth of your Colombe and of myself. I will forgive you -then, because I love you; but ere that time comes terrible things will -happen. _Au revoir._" - -And Madame d'Etampes, wild with love and hatred, left the room, -forgetting that the two lines she had written in a moment of exaltation -remained in Ascanio's hands. - - - - -XVIII - - -LOVE AS A DREAM - - -As soon as Ascanio was out of Madame d'Etampes's presence, the -fascinating influence which emanated from her disappeared, and he could -once more see clearly the condition of his own heart, as well as what -was going on about him. How, he recalled two things he had said. Colombe -might love him, since the Duchesse d'Etampes loved him. Thenceforth his -life did not belong to him: his instinct had served him well in -suggesting these two thoughts to him, but it had led him astray when it -inspired him to give utterance to them. If the honest, upright soul of -the young man had been capable of descending to dissimulation, all would -have been well, but he had simply put the wounded and much to be dreaded -duchess on her guard. The struggle henceforth was to be the more -terrible, in that Colombe only was threatened. - -However, this passionate and perilous scene with the duchess was of -service to Ascanio in one respect. He carried away from it a new-born -feeling of exaltation and confidence. His mind, excited by the spectacle -it had witnessed as well as by its own efforts, was more active than -ever, and more inclined to audacious deeds; so that he gallantly -determined to find out what basis there might be for his hopes, and to -sound the depths of Colombe's heart, though he were to find nothing more -than indifference there. If Colombe really loved Comte d'Orbec, why -contend longer against Madame d'Etampes? She might do what she would -with a rebellious, despised, desolate, despairing existence. He would be -ambitious, he would become gloomy and evil-minded; what matter if he -did? But first of all he must put an end to his doubts, and go with a -determined step to meet his fate. If worse came to worst, Madame -d'Etampes's promise would take care of the future. - -Ascanio arrived at this decision as he returned along the quay, watching -the sun sink in a sea of flame behind the black, frowning Tour de Nesle. -When he reached the hôtel, without delay or hesitation, he went first -to put together a few jewels, then resolutely knocked four times at the -door leading to the Petit-Nesle. - -Dame Perrine chanced to be in the neighborhood. With astonishment, -mingled with curiosity, she made haste to open the gate. But when she -saw the apprentice, she felt called upon to assume a very frigid -demeanor. - -"Ah! is it you, Monsieur Ascanio? What do you wish?" - -"I wish to show these jewels to Mademoiselle Colombe immediately, good -Dame Perrine. Is she in the garden?" - -"Yes, in her path. But wait, young man, wait for me!" - -Ascanio, who had not forgotten the road, walked swiftly away without -giving another thought to the governess. - -"Let us see," said she, stopping to reflect. "I think my best course is -not to join them, but to leave Colombe free to select her purchases and -her gifts. It would not be becoming for me to be there, if, as is -probable, she puts something aside for me. I will arrive when she has -completed her purchases, and then I should certainly be very ungrateful -to refuse. That's what I'll do, stay here and not embarrass the dear, -kind-hearted child." - -It will be seen that the good woman was not deficient in delicacy. - -For ten days past Colombe had not found it necessary to ask herself if -Ascanio had become her dearest thought. The pure-souled, unsophisticated -child did not know what love was, but her heart was overflowing with -love. She told herself that she did wrong to indulge in such dreams, but -she excused herself on the ground that she certainly should never see -Ascanio again, and that she should not have the consolation of -justifying herself in his eyes. - -Upon this pretext she passed all her evenings upon the bench where he -had sat beside her, and there she would talk to him, listen to him, and -concentrate her whole soul upon the memory. And when the darkness came -on, and Dame Perrine bade her retire, the lovely dreamer would return to -the house with reluctant steps, and not until she was recalled to -herself would she remember her father's commands, Comte d'Orbec, and the -rapid flight of time. Her sleepless nights were hard to bear, but not -sufficiently so to efface the charm of her visions of the evening. - -On this evening, as usual, Colombe was living over again the delicious -hour she had passed with Ascanio, when, happening to raise her eyes, she -uttered a sharp cry. - -He was standing before her, gazing at her in silence. - -He found her changed, but lovelier than ever. Pallor and melancholy were -most becoming to her ideally beautiful face. She seemed to belong still -less to earth. And so Ascanio, gazing admiringly upon her enhanced -charms, was assailed once more by his former modest apprehensions, which -Madame d'Etampes's passion had dissipated for a moment. How could this -celestial creature ever love him? - -The two lovely children, who had loved each other so long without a -word, and who had already suffered so much, were at last face to face. -They ought, no doubt, to have traversed in an instant the space they had -traversed step by step, and separately, in their dreams. They might now -come to an understanding first of all, and then allow all their long -pent-up emotion to find expression in an outburst of joy. - -But they were both too timid for that, and although their emotion -betrayed each to the other, their angel hearts did not come together -until they had first made a detour. - -Colombe, speechless and blushing, had risen to her feet by a sudden -impulse. Ascanio, pale with the intensity of his emotion, repressed with -a trembling hand the rapid beating of his heart. - -They both began to speak at once: he to say, "Forgive me, mademoiselle, -but you gave me leave to show you some jewels;" she to say, "I am glad -to see that you are entirely recovered, Monsieur Ascanio." - -They ceased speaking simultaneously, but nevertheless they had perfectly -understood each other: and Ascanio, emboldened by the involuntary smile -which the incident naturally brought to the maiden's lips, rejoined, -with somewhat more assurance:-- - -"Are you so kind as to remember that I was wounded?" - -"Indeed, yes; and Dame Perrine and I have been very anxious and -astonished not to see you." - -"I did not intend to come again." - -"Why not, pray?" - -At this decisive moment Ascanio was fain to lean against a tree for -support, but in a moment he summoned all his strength and all his -courage, and said breathlessly:-- - -"I may confess it now: I loved you!" - -"And now?" - -The question came from Colombe's lips almost without her knowledge: it -would have put to flight all the doubts of an older hand than Ascanio, -but it simply revived his hopes a little. - -"Now, alas!" he continued, "I have measured the distance that lies -between us, and I know that you are happily betrothed to a noble count." - -"Happily!" interposed Colombe, with a bitter smile. - -"What! you do not love the count! Great God! Pray tell me, is he not -worthy of you?" - -"He is rich and powerful, far above me: but you have seen him?" - -"No, and I was afraid to inquire. Besides, I cannot say why, but I felt -certain that he was young and attractive, and that he was agreeable to -you." - -"He is older than my father, and he frightens me," said Colombe, hiding -her faee in her hands with a gesture of abhorrence which she could not -repress. - - -[Illustration 04] - - -Ascanio, beside himself with joy, fell on his knees, with clasped hands, -pale as death, his eyes half closed, but a sublime light shone out from -beneath his eyelids, and a smile fit to rejoice God's heart played about -his colorless lips. - -"What is the matter, Ascanio?" said Colombe in alarm. - -"What is the matter!" cried the young man, finding in the excess of his -joy the audacity which sorrow first gave him; "What is the matter! why, -I love you, Colombe!" - -"Ascanio! Ascanio!" murmured Colombe, in a tone that was half reproof, -half pleasure, and it must be said, as soft as a confession of love. - -But they understood each other; their hearts were united, and before -they were conscious of it, their lips had followed suit. - -"My friend," said Colombe, softly pushing Ascanio away. - -They gazed into one another's faces in ecstasy: the two angels -recognized each other at last. Life does not contain two such moments. - -"And so," said Ascanio, "you do not love Comte d'Orbec: you are free to -love me." - -"My friend," said Colombe, in her sweet, grave voice, "no one save my -father ever kissed me before, and he, alas! very rarely. I am an -ignorant child, and I know nothing of life; but I know from the thrill -which your kiss caused me that it is my duty henceforth to belong only -to you or to Heaven. Yes, if it were otherwise, I am sure that it would -be a crime! Your lips have consecrated me your _fiancée_ and your wife, -and though my father himself should say no, I would listen only to the -voice of God, which says yes in my heart. Here is my hand, which is -yours." - -"Angels of paradise, hear her and envy me!" cried Ascanio. - -Such ecstasy is not to be pictured or described. Let those who can -remember, remember, ft is impossible to put upon paper the words, the -looks, the hand-pressures of these pure-hearted lovely children. Their -spotless souls flowed together, as do the waters from two springs, -without changing their nature or their color. Ascanio did not sully with -the shadow of an impure thought the chaste brow of his beloved; Colombe -laid her head in perfect trust upon her lover's shoulder. Had the Virgin -Mary looked down upon them from on high she would not have turned her -head away. - -When one begins to love, one is in haste to bring to the support of his -love all that he can of his past, present, and future. As soon as they -could speak calmly, Ascanio and Colombe described to each other all -their sorrows, all their hopes, of the days just gone by. It was -charming to both to find that each had the other's story to tell. They -had suffered much, and they smiled upon each other as they remembered -their suffering. - -But when they came to speak of the future, then they became serious and -sad. What had God in store for them for the morrow? According to all -divine laws they were made for each other; but human prejudices would -declare their union ill assorted, monstrous. What were they to do? How -persuade Comte d'Orbec to renounce his wife? how persuade the Provost of -Paris to give his daughter to an artisan? - -"Alas! my friend," said Colombe, "I promised you that I would belong to -you or to Heaven,--I see that it must be to Heaven. - -"No," said Ascanio, "to me. Two children like ourselves cannot move the -world alone; but I will speak to my dear master, Benvenuto Cellini. He -is powerful, Colombe, and sees all things from a higher level! He acts -on earth as God ordains in heaven, and whatever his will has undertaken -he accomplishes. He will give you to me. I do not know how he will do -it, but I am sure. He loves obstacles. He will speak to King François; -he will persuade your father. The only thing he could not bring to pass -you did without his intervention,--you loved me. The rest ought to be -very simple. You see that I believe in miracles now, my best beloved." - -"Dear Ascanio, you hope and I hope. Would you like me also to try an -experiment? There is a person whose influence over my father's mind is -unbounded. Shall I not write to Madame d'Etampes?" - -"Madame d'Etampes!" cried Ascanio. "Mon Dieu! I had forgotten her." - -Thereupon he told her, simply and without affectation, how he had seen -the duchess, how she had declared her love for him, and how, that very -day, within an hour, she had pronounced herself the enemy of his -beloved. But of what consequence was it? Benvenuto's task would be a -little more difficult, that was all. One adversary more would not -terrify him. - -"My dear," said Colombe, "you have faith in your master, and I have -faith in you; speak to Cellini as soon as possible, and let him decide -our fate." - -"To-morrow I will tell him everything. He loves me so well that he will -understand me instantly. But what is it, my Colombe? How sad you are!" - -Each sentence of Ascanio's narrative had made Colombe doubly conscious -of her love for him by forcing the sharp sting of jealousy into her -heart, and more than once she convulsively pressed Ascanio's hand, which -she held in her own. - -"Ascanio, Madame d'Etampes is very beautiful. She is beloved by a great -king. Mon Dieu! did she make no impression upon your heart?" - -"I love you!" said Ascanio. - -"Wait here for me." - -She returned a moment later with a beautiful fresh white lily. - -"When you are working at that woman's lily of gold and jewels," said -she, "glance sometimes at the simple lilies from your Colombe's garden." - -With that she put her lips to the flower and handed it to the -apprentice, as coquettishly as Madame d'Etampes herself could have done. - -At that moment Dame Perrine appeared at the end of the path. - -"Adieu and _au revoir_!" said Colombe, putting her hand to her lover's -lips with a furtive, graceful gesture. - -The governess approached them. - -"Well, my child," she said to Colombe, "have you given the delinquent a -good scolding, and selected your jewels?" - -"Take this, Dame Perrine," said Ascanio, putting the box of trinkets in -the good woman's hands still unopened; "Mademoiselle Colombe and I have -decided that you shall yourself choose whatever suits you best, and I -will come again to-morrow for the others." - -With that he ran off with his joy, darting a farewell glance at Colombe, -which told her all that he had to tell. - -Colombe sat with her hands folded upon her breast as if to confine the -happiness it contained,--while Dame Perrine was making her choice among -the marvels brought by Ascanio. - -Alas! the poor child was very soon and very cruelly awakened from her -sweet dreams. - -A woman appeared, escorted by one of the provost's men. - -"Monseigneur le Comte d'Orbec, who is to return day after to-morrow," -said this woman, "places me at madame's service from to-day. I am -familiar with the newest and prettiest styles, and I am commanded by -Monsieur le Comte and Messire le Prévôt to make for madame a -magnificent brocade gown, as Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes is to present -madame to the queen on the day of her Majesty's departure for -Saint-Germain, four days hence." - -After the scene we have described, the reader may imagine the despairing -effect of this twofold news upon Colombe. - - - - -XIX - - -LOVE AS AN IDEA - - -The next morning at daybreak Ascanio, resolved to place his destiny in -his master's hands at once, repaired to the foundry where Cellini worked -every morning. But as he was about to knock at the door of what the -master called his cell, he heard Scozzone's voice. He supposed that she -was posing, and he discreetly withdrew, to return a little later. -Meanwhile he walked about the gardens of the Grand-Nesle, reflecting -upon what he should say to Cellini, and what Cellini would probably say -to him. - -But Scozzone was not posing,--far from it. She had never before set foot -in the cell, to which no one, to her great disappointment, was ever -admitted. So it was that the master's wrath was terrible to behold, -when, happening to turn his head, he saw Catherine behind him, with her -great eyes open wider than ever. The imprudent damsel's desire to see -found little to gratify it, after all. A few drawings upon the walls, a -green curtain before the window, a statue of Hebe begun, and a -collection of sculptor's utensils, comprised the whole contents of the -room. - -"What do you want, little serpent? Why have you come here? In God's name -will you follow me to hell?" cried Benvenuto at sight of Catherine. - -"Alas! master," said Scozzone, in her softest voice, "I assure you I am -not a serpent. I confess that rather than part from you I would joyfully -follow you to hell if necessary, and I come here because it is the only -place where I can speak to you in secret." - -"Very well! make haste! What have you to say to me?" - -"O mon Dieu! Benvenuto," exclaimed Scozzone, spying the outlined statue, -"what an admirable figure! It is your Hebe. I had no idea it was so far -advanced; how lovely it is!" - -"Is it not?" said Benvenuto. - -"Ah, yes! very lovely, and I understand that you would not want me to -pose for such a subject. But who is your model?" inquired Scozzone, -anxiously. "I have not seen any woman go in or out." - -"Hush! Come, my dear girl, you surely did not come here to talk of -sculpture." - -"No, master it's about our Pagolo. I did as you bade me, Benvenuto. He -took advantage of your absence last evening to annoy me with his eternal -love, and, as you commanded, I listened to him to the end." - -"Aha! the traitor! What did he say to you?" - -"Oh! it's enough to make one die with laughing, and I would have given -anything in the world could you have been there. Please understand that, -in order not to arouse suspicion, the hypocrite finished the clasp you -had given him to make, while he was speaking to me, and the file that he -held in his hand added not a little to the pathos of his speech. - -"'Dear Catherine,' said he, 'I am dying for love of you; when will you -take pity on my martyrdom? One word, I only ask for one word. Just see -to what I expose myself for your sake! if I had not finished this clasp, -the master might suspect something, and if he suspected anything he -would kill me without mercy; but I defy everything for your lovely eyes. -Jésu! this accursed work doesn't advance at all. After all, Catherine, -what good does it do you to love Benvenuto? He doesn't thank you for it; -he is always indifferent to you. And I would love you with a love which -would be so ardent and so circumspect at the same time! No one would -discover it, you would never be compromised, and you could rely on my -discretion, whatever might happen. Look you,' he added, made bold by my -silence, 'I have already found a safe retreat, hidden from every eye, -where I could take you without fear.'--Ha! ha! you would never guess the -place the sly rascal had selected, Benvenuto. I give you a hundred, a -thousand guesses; none but men with hang-dog looks, and eyes on the -ground discover such out of the way corners. He proposed to quarter -me,--where do you suppose?--in the head of your great statue of Mars. -'We can go up,' he said, 'with a ladder.' He assured me that there is a -very pretty apartment there, out of every one's sight, and with a -magnificent view of the surrounding country." - -"Faith, it's not a bad idea," said Benvenuto, with a laugh; "and what -reply did you make, Scozzone?" - -"I replied with a great burst of laughter, which I could not keep back, -and which sorely disappointed Mons. Pagolo. He undertook then to be very -pathetic, to reproach me with having no heart, and with wishing to cause -his death, and so forth, and so forth. All the time working away with -hammer and file, he talked to me in that strain for a full half-hour, -for he's a loquacious rascal when he gives his mind to it." - -"What reply did you give him finally, Scozzone?" - -"What reply? Just as you knocked at the door, and he placed his clasp, -finished at last, upon the table, I took his hand, and said to him very -soberly, 'Pagolo, you have talked like a jewel!' That was why you found -him looking so like an idiot when you came in." - -"You were wrong, Scozzone; you should not have discouraged him so." - -"You told me to listen to him and I listened. Do you think it's so very -easy for me to listen to handsome boys? Suppose something should happen -some fine day?" - -"You should not only listen to him, my child, but you must give him an -answer: it is indispensable to my plan. Speak to him at first without -anger, then indulgently, and then encouragingly. When you have reached -that point, I will tell you what else you must do." - -"But that may have results you do not intend, do you know? At least you -should be there." - -"Never fear, Scozzone, I will appear at the right moment. You have only -to rely upon me, and follow my instructions to the letter. Go now, -little one, and leave me to my work." - -Catherine tripped lightly away, laughing in pleased anticipation of the -fine trick Cellini proposed to play upon Pagolo, of the nature of which, -however, she could not form the least conception. - -Benvenuto, when she had left him, did not resume his work, as he had -said; he rushed to the window which looked obliquely upon the garden of -the Petit-Nesle, and stood there in rapt contemplation. A knock at the -door rudely aroused him from his reverie. - -"Hail and tempest!" he cried in a rage, "who is there now? can I not be -left in peace? Ten thousand devils!" - -"Forgive me, master," said Ascanio's voice; "if I disturb you, I will go -away." - -"What! is it you, my child? No, no, surely not; you never disturb me. -What is it, pray? what do you want with me!" - -Benvenuto lost no time in opening the door for his beloved pupil. - -"I interfere with your solitude and your work," said Ascanio. - -"No, Ascanio, you are always welcome." - -"Master, I have a secret to confide to you, a service to ask of you." - -"Speak. Will you have my purse? do you need my arm or my thoughts?" - -"I may have need of them all, dear master." - -"So much the better! I am yours body and soul, Ascanio. I have a -confession to make to you, too: yes, a confession, for although I have -committed no sin, I think, still I shall have some remorse until I am -absolved by you. But do you speak first." - -"Very well, master.--But, great Heaven! what is that cast?" cried -Ascanio, interrupting himself. - -His eye had just fallen upon the statue of Hebe, and in the statue he -recognized Colombe. - -"It is Hebe," replied Benvenuto, with glistening eyes; "it is the -goddess of youth. Do you think it beautiful, Ascanio?" - -"Oh, wonderful! But those features: I know them, I cannot be mistaken!" - -"Rash boy! Since you raise the veil half-way, I must needs snatch it -away altogether, and so, after all, your confidence will come after -mine. Sit down, Ascanio; you shall have my heart spread out before you -like an open book. You need me, you say: I, too, need that you should -hear me. I shall be relieved of a great weight when you know all." - -Ascanio sat down, paler than the culprit about to listen to the reading -of the death sentence. - -"You are a Florentine, Ascanio, and I do not need to ask you if you know -the story of Dante Alighieri. One day he saw a child named Beatrice -passing along the street, and he loved her. The child died and he loved -her still, for it was her soul that he loved and souls do not die; but -he crowned her with a crown of stars, and placed her in paradise. That -done, he set about analyzing human passions, sounding the depths of -poetry and philosophy; and when, purified by suffering and -contemplation, be readied the gates of heaven, where Virgil, that is, -Wisdom, was to leave him, he was not obliged to stop for lack of a -guide, because he found Beatrice, that is, Love, awaiting him on the -threshold. - -"Ascanio, I have my Beatrice, dead like the other, and adored as she -was. This has been hitherto a secret between God and her and myself. I -am weak to resist temptation; but my adoration for her has remained -intact amid all the impure passions to which I have yielded. I had -placed my light too high for corruption to reach it. The man plunged -heedlessly into dissipation, the artist remained true to his mysterious -betrothal; and if I have done anything creditable, Ascanio,--if inert -matter, silver or clay, has been made to assume form and life under my -fingers, if I have sometimes succeeded in imparting beauty to marble and -life to bronze,--it has been because my resplendent vision has given me -counsel, support, and instruction for twenty years past. - -"But I know not how it is, Ascanio: perhaps there is a distinction -between the poet and the goldsmith, between the moulder of ideas, and -the moulder of gold. Dante dreams: I need to see. The name of Maria is -all-sufficient to him; I must have before me the face of the Madonna. We -divine his creations; we touch mine. That perhaps is why my Beatrice was -not enough, or rather was too much for me, a sculptor. Her mind was ever -present with me, but I was compelled to seek the human form. The angelic -woman who shed a bright light upon my life had been beautiful, most -certainly, beautiful above all in the qualities of her heart, but she -did not realize the type of undying beauty upon which my imagination -dwelt. I found myself constrained therefore to seek elsewhere, to -invent. - -"Now, tell me this, Ascanio; do you think that, if my sculptor's ideal -had presented itself to me living on this earth, and if I had bestowed a -share of my admiration upon it, I should have been ungrateful and -faithless to my poetic ideal? Do you think that my celestial apparition -would in that case have ceased to visit me, that the angel would be -jealous of the woman? Do you think it? I ask you the question, Ascanio, -and you will know some day why I ask it of you rather than of -another,--why I tremble as I await your reply, as if you were my -Beatrice herself." - -"Master," said Ascanio gravely and sadly, "I am too young to have an -opinion upon such lofty subjects: I think, however, in my heart, that -you are one of the chosen men whom God leads, and that what you find -upon your path has been placed there by God, not by chance." - -"That is really your belief, is it not, Ascanio? You are of opinion that -the terrestrial angel, the realization of my longing, would be sent by -God, and that the other celestial angel would not be angry at my -desertion? In that case, I may venture to tell you that I have found my -ideal, that it is living, that I can sec it, and almost touch it. -Ascanio, the model of all beauty, of all purity, the type of infinite -perfection to which we artists aspire, is near at hand, it breathes, and -I can admire, it every day. Ah! all that I have done hitherto is as -nothing compared with what I will do. This Hebe, which you think -beautiful, and which is, in very truth, my _chef-d'œuvre_, does not -satisfy me as yet: my living dream stands beside its image, and seems to -me a hundred times more glorious; but I will attain it! I will attain -it! Ascanio, a thousand white statues, all of which resemble it, are -already forming and rising in my brain. I see them, I feel their -presence, and some day they will come forth. - -"And now, Ascanio, would you like me to show you my lovely inspiration? -it should be close by us. Every morning, when the sun rises, it shines -upon me from below. Look." - -Benvenuto drew the curtain aside from the window, and pointed to the -garden of the Petit-Nesle. - -In her leafy avenue Colombe was walking slowly along, her head resting -upon her hand. - -"How fair she is, is she not?" said Benvenuto ecstatically. "Phidias and -old Michel-Angelo created nothing purer, and the ancients, if they -equal, do not surpass that graceful young head. How beautiful she is!" - -"Ah! yes, beautiful indeed!" murmured Ascanio, who had resumed his seat, -without strength to move or to think. - -There was a moment's pause, while Benvenuto feasted upon his joy, and -Ascanio brooded over his pain. - -"But, master," the apprentice timidly ventured to say, "where will this -artist's passion lead you? What do you mean to do?" - -"Ascanio," replied Cellini, "she who is dead is not and cannot be mine. -God simply showed her to me, and did not implant any human love for her -in my heart. Strangely enough, he did not even lead me to feel what she -was to me until he had taken her from the world. She is naught but a -memory in my life, a vague, indistinct image. But if you have understood -me, Colombe more nearly touches my existence, my heart: I dare to love -her: I dare to say to myself, 'She shall be mine!' - -"She is the daughter of the Provost of Paris," said Ascanio, trembling. - -"And even if she were a king's daughter, Ascanio, you know what my will -is capable of. I have attained whatever object I have sought to attain, -and I never longed for aught more ardently. I know not as yet by what -means I shall gain my end, but she must be my wife." - -"Your wife! Colombe your wife!" - -"I will apply to my mighty sovereign," continued Benvenuto. "I will -people the Louvre and Chambord with statues if he wishes. I will cover -his tables with ewers and candelabra, and when I ask no other price than -Colombe he will not he François I. if he refuses. O Ascanio, I am -hopeful, I am hopeful! I will seek him in the midst of his whole court. -See, three days hence, when he starts for Saint-Germain, you will come -with me. We will carry the silver salt-box, which is completed, and the -designs for a gateway at Fontainebleau. Every one will admire them, for -they are fine, and he will admire them, and will marvel more than the -others. I will give him a similar surprise every week. I have never been -conscious of a more fruitful creative power. My brain is boiling night -and day: this love of mine, Ascanio, has increased my power and renewed -my youth. When François sees all his wishes gratified as soon as they -are formed,--ah! then I will no longer request, but demand. He will make -me great, and I will make myself rich, and the Provost of Paris, for all -his provostship, will be honored by the alliance. Upon my soul, Ascanio, -I am going mad! Such thoughts make me lose control of myself. She mine! -Dreams of heaven! Do you realize what it means, Ascanio? Colombe mine! -Embrace me, my child; since I have confessed it all to you, I dare to -listen to my hopes. My heart is calmer now; you have in a measure -legalized my happiness. You will understand some day what I mean by -that. Meanwhile, it seems to me that I love you more dearly since you -have received my confidence: it was good of you to listen. Embrace me, -dear Ascanio!" - -"But you do not seem to think, master, that perhaps she doesn't love -you." - -"Oh, hush, Ascanio! I have thought of it, and then I have envied your -youth and beauty. But what you say of the far-seeing designs of God -reassures me. She is waiting for me to come to her. Whom should she -love? some courtier fop, altogether unworthy of her! Furthermore, -whoever he may be for whom she is destined, I am as nobly born as he, -and I have more genius." - -"Comte d'Orbec, they say, is hex _fiancé_." - -"Comte d'Orbec? so much the better! I know him. He is the king's -treasurer, and I go to him for the gold and silver to be used in my -work, and for the sums which his Majesty's bounty allots to me. Comte -d'Orbec is a crabbed, worn out old curmudgeon! He doesn't count, and -there will be little glory in supplanting such an animal. Go to, -Ascanio; it is I whom she will love, not for my sake, but for her own, -because I shall be the demonstration of her loveliness, so to speak, -because she will be appreciated, adored, immortalized. Moreover, I have -said, 'I wish it!' and, I say again, I never have used that phrase that -I have not succeeded. There is no human power which can hold out against -the energy of my passion. I shall, as always, go straight to my goal, -with the inflexibility of destiny. She shall be mine, I tell you, though -I have to turn the whole kingdom topsy-turvy. And if perchance any rival -should block my way--Demonio! let him beware! You know me, Ascanio: I -will kill him with this hand now grasping thine. But forgive me, -Ascanio, in God's name! Egotist that I am, I forget that you have a -secret to confide to me, and a service to ask at my hands. I shall never -pay my debt to you, dear child, but say on, say on. For you, as well as -myself, I can do what it is my will to do." - -"You are wrong, master: there are things which God alone can do, and I -know that I must rely upon Him and none other. I will leave my secret, -therefore, between my feebleness and His might." - -Ascanio left the room. - -He had hardly closed the door when Cellini drew the green curtain, and, -placing his table by the window, began to model his Hebe, his heart -filled with joy in the present, and a sense of security for the future. - - - - -END OF VOL. I. - - - - -[ILLUSTRATION 05] - - - - -THE SYDNEY LIBRARY EDITION - - - -THE ROMANCES OF -ALEXANDRE DUMAS - - - - -Volume XI. - - - - -ASCANIO - - -_PART SECOND_ - - - - -NEW YORK - -GEORGE D. SPROUL - -Publisher - -1898 - - - -_Copyright, 1896_, - -By Little, Brown, and Company. - - - - -University Press: - -John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. - - - - -CONTENTS - -Chapter - -I. The Trafficker in his own Honor - -II. Four Varieties of Brigands - -III. An Autumn Night's Dream - -IV. Stefana - -V. Domiciliary Visits - -VI. Charles the Fifth at Fontainebleau - -VII. The Ghostly Monk - -VIII. What One sees at Night from the Top -of a Poplar - -IX. Mars and Venus - -X. The Rivals - -XI. Benvenuto at Bay - -XII. Of the Difficulty which an Honest -Man experiences in Procuring his -own Committal to Prison - -XIII. In which Jacques Aubry rises to Epic -Proportions - -XIV. Of the Difficulty which an Honest -Man experiences in Securing his -Release from Prison - -XV. An Honest Theft - -XVI. Wherein it is proved that a Grisette's -Letter, when it is burned, makes as -much Flame and Ashes as a Duchess's - -XVII. Wherein it is proved that True Friendship -is capable of carrying devotion -to the Marrying Point - -XVIII. The Casting - -XIX. Jupiter and Olympus - -XX. A Prudent Marriage - -XXI. Resumption of Hostilities - -XXII. A Love Match - -XXIII. Mariage de Convenance - - - - -ASCANIO - - - - -I - - -THE TRAFFICKER IN HIS OWN HONOR - - -It was the day on which Colombe was to be presented to the queen. - -The whole court was assembled in one of the state apartments at the -Louvre. After hearing mass the court was to depart for Saint-Germain, -and they were awaiting the coming of the king and queen to go to the -chapel. Except a few ladies who were seated, everybody was moving about -from place to place, laughing and talking. There was the rustle of silks -and brocades, and the clash of swords; loving and defiant glances were -exchanged, together with arrangements for future meetings, of amorous or -deadly purport. It was a dazzling, bewildering scene of confusion and -splendor; the costumes were superb, and cut in the latest style; among -them, adding to the rich and interesting variety, were pages, dressed in -the Italian or Spanish fashion, standing like statues, with arms akimbo, -and swords at their sides. It was a picture overflowing with animation -and magnificence, of which all that we could say would be but a very -feeble and colorless description. Bring to life all the dandified, -laughing cavaliers, all the sportive easy-mannered ladies who figure in -the pages of Brantôme and the "Heptameron," put in their mouths the -crisp, clever, outspoken, idiomatic, eminently French speech of the -sixteenth century, and you will have an idea of this seductive court, -especially if you recall the saying of François I.: "A court without -women is a year without spring, or a spring without flowers." The court -of François I. was a perpetual spring, where the loveliest and noblest -of earthly flowers bloomed. - -After the first bewilderment caused by the confusion and uproar, it was -easy to see that there were two hostile camps in the throng: one, -distinguished by lilac favors, was that of Madame d'Etampes; the other, -whose colors were blue, hoisted the flag of Diane de Poitiers. Those who -secretly adhered to the Reformed religion belonged to the first faction, -the unadulterated Catholics to the other. Among the latter could be seen -the dull, uninteresting countenance of the Dauphin; the intelligent, -winning, blonde features of Charles d'Orléans, the king's second son, -flitted here and there through the ranks of the faction of Madame -d'Etampes. Conceive these political and religious antipathies to be -complicated by the jealousy of women and the rivalry of artists, and the -result will be a grand total of hatred, which will sufficiently explain, -if you are surprised at them, a myriad of scornful glances and -threatening gestures, which all the courtier-like dissembling in the -world cannot conceal from the observation of the spectator. - -The two deadly enemies, Anne and Diane, were seated at the opposite ends -of the room, but, notwithstanding the distance between them, not five -seconds elapsed before every stinging quip uttered by one of them found -its way to the ears of the other, and the retort, forwarded by the same -couriers, returned as quickly by the same road. - -Amid all these silk and velvet-clad noblemen, in an atmosphere of clever -sayings, in his long doctor's robe, stern-featured but indifferent, -walked Henri Estienne, devotedly attached to the cause of the -Reformation, while not two steps away, and equally oblivious of his -surroundings, stood the Florentine refugee, Pietro Strozzi, pale and -melancholy, leaning against a pillar, and gazing doubtless in his heart -at far-off Italy, whither he was destined to return in chains, there to -have no repose save in the tomb. We need not say that the nobly born -Italian, a kinsman, through his mother, of Catherine de Medicis, was -heart and soul devoted to the Catholic party. - -There, too, talking together of momentous affairs of state, and stopping -frequently to look each other in the face as if to give more weight to -what they were saying, were old Montmorency, to whom the king had given -less than two years before the office of Constable, vacant since the -fall of Bourbon, and the chancellor, Poyet, bursting with pride over the -new tax he had imposed, and the ordinance of Villers-Cotterets, just -countersigned by him.[8] - -Mingling with none of the various groups, taking part in no -conversation, the Benedictine and Cordelier François Rabelais, with a -smile which showed his white teeth, watched and listened and sneered, -while Triboulet, his Majesty's favorite jester, rolled his humpback and -his biting jests around between the legs of the guests, taking advantage -of his pygmy-like stature to bite here and there without danger, if not -without pain. - -Clement Marot, resplendent in a brand-new coat as _valet-de-chambre_ to -the king, seemed fully as uncomfortable as on the day of his reception -at the Hôtel d'Etampes. It was evident that he had in his pocket some -poor fatherless sonnet, which he was seeking to dress in the guise of an -impromptu conception. But alas! we all know that inspiration comes from -on high, and we cannot control it. A ravishing idea had come to his mind -unbidden upon the name of Madame Diane. He struggled against it, but the -Muse is a mistress, not a lover; the lines formed themselves without his -assistance, the rhymes matched themselves to one another as if by some -magic power which he could not control. In fine, the wretched verses -tormented him more than we can say. He was devoted to Madame d'Etampes -beyond question, and to Marguerite de Navarre,--that too, was -incontestable,--as was the fact that the Protestant party was the one -toward which his sympathies leaned. It may even be that he was in search -of an epigram against Madame Diane, when this madrigal in her honor came -to his mind; but come it did. And how, we pray to know, when such superb -lines were evolved in his brain in laudation of a Catholic, could he -forbear, despite his zeal for the Protestant cause, to confide them in a -whisper to some appreciative friend of literary tastes? - -That is what poor Marot did. But the injudicious Cardinal de Tournon, to -whose bosom he intrusted his verses, deemed them so beautiful, so -magnificent, that, in spite of himself, he passed them on to M. le Duc -de Lorraine, who lost no time in telling Madame Diane of them. Instantly -there was a great whispering among the partisans of the blue, in the -midst of which Marot was imperatively summoned, and called upon to -repeat them. The lilacs, when they saw Marot making his way through the -crowd toward Madame Diane, hastened in the same direction, and crowded -around the poet, enchanted and terrified at the same time. At last the -Duchesse d'Etampes herself left her place, being curious, as she said, -to see how "that knave Marot,[9] who had so much wit, would set about -praising Madame Diane." - -Poor Clement Marot, as he was about to begin, after bowing low to Diane -de Poitiers, who smiled upon him, turned his head slightly to glance -about and caught the eye of Madame d'Etampes; she also smiled upon him, -but the smile of the one was gracious, and of the other awe-inspiring. -And so it was with a trembling and uncertain voice that poor Marot, -burning up on one side, and frozen on the other, repeated the following -verses:-- - - -"Etre Phœbus bien souvent je désire, -Non pour connaître herbes divinement, -Car la douleur que mon cœur veut occire -Ne se guérit par herbe aucunement. -Non pour avoir ma place au firmament, -Non pour son arc encontre Amour laisir, -Car à mon roi ne veux être rebelle. -Être Phœbus seulement je désir, -Pour être aimé de Diane la belle."[10] - - -Marot had barely littered the last syllable of this charming madrigal, -when the blues applauded vociferously, while the lilacs preserved a -deathly silence. Thereupon, emboldened by the applause on the one hand, -and chagrined by the frigid reception accorded his effusion on the -other, he boldly presented the _chef-d'œuvre_ to Madame de Poitiers. - -"To 'Diane the fair,'" he said in an undertone, bowing to the ground -before her; "you understand, madame, fair in your own right and by -contrast." - -Diane thanked him with her sweetest smile, and Marot turned away. - -"One may venture to write verses in praise of a fair one, after having -done the same in honor of the fairest," said the ill-fated poet -apologetically as he passed Madame d'Etampes; "you remember, madame, 'De -France la plus belle.'" - -Anne replied with a withering glance. - -Two groups, composed of acquaintances of the reader, stood aloof from -the throng during this incident. In one were Ascanio and Cellini: -Benvenuto was weak enough to prefer the "Divina Commedia" to airy -conceits. The other group consisted of Comte d'Orbec, the Vicomte de -Marmagne, Messire d'Estourville, and Colombe, who had implored her -father not to mingle with the crowd, with which she then came in contact -for the first time, and which caused her no other sensation than terror. -Comte d'Orbec gallantly refused to leave his _fiancée_, who was to be -presented by the provost to the queen after mass. - -Ascanio and Colombe, although they were equally bewildered by their -strange surroundings, had spied each other at once, and from time to -time stealthily exchanged glances. The two pure-hearted, timid children, -both of whom had been reared in the solitude which makes noble hearts, -would have been isolated and lost indeed in that gorgeous and corrupt -throng, had they not been so situated that they could see and thereby -mutually strengthen and encourage each other. - -They had not met since the day they confessed their love. Half a score -of times Ascanio had tried to gain admission to the Petit-Nesle, but -always in vain. The new servant, presented to Colombe by Comte d'Orbec, -invariably answered his knock instead of Dame Perrine, and dismissed him -unceremoniously. Ascanio was neither rich enough nor bold enough to try -to buy the woman. Furthermore he had naught but sad news, which she -would learn only too soon, to impart to his beloved; the news of the -master's avowal of his own passion for Colombe, and the consequent -necessity, not only of doing without his support, but perhaps of having -to contend against him. - -As to the course to be pursued, Ascanio felt, as he had said to Cellini, -that God alone could now save him. And being left to his own resources -he had, in his innocence, resolved to attempt to soften Madame -d'Etampes. When a hope upon which one has confidently relied is blasted, -one is always tempted to have recourse to the most desperate expedients. -The all-powerful energy of Benvenuto not only had failed Ascanio, but -would undoubtedly be turned against him. Ascanio determined, therefore, -with the trustfulness of youth, to appeal to what he believed he had -discovered of grandeur and nobleness and generosity in the character of -Madame d'Etampes, in an attempt to arouse the sympathy of her by whom he -was beloved with his suffering. Afterward, if that last fragile branch -slipped from his hand, what could he do, a poor, weak friendless child, -but wait? That was why he had accompanied Benvenuto to court. - -The Duchesse d'Etampes had returned to her place. He joined the throng -of her courtiers, reached a position behind her, and finally succeeded -in making his way to her chair. Chancing to turn her head, she saw him. - -"Ah, is it you, Ascanio?" she said, coldly. - -"Yes, Madame la Duchesse. I came hither with my master, Benvenuto, and -my excuse for venturing to address you is my desire to know if you were -hopelessly dissatisfied with the drawing of the lily which you kindly -ordered me to prepare, and which I left at the Hôtel d'Etampes the -other day." - -"No, in very truth, I think it most beautiful," said Madame d'Etampes, -somewhat mollified, "and connoisseurs to whom I have shown it, notably -Monsieur de Guise here, are entirely of my opinion. But will the -completed work be as perfect as the drawing? and if you think that you -can promise that it will, will my gems be sufficient?" - -"Yes, madame, I hope so. I should have liked, however, to place on the -heart of the flower a large diamond, which would glisten there like a -drop of dew; but it would be too great an expense perhaps to incur for a -work intrusted to an humble artist like myself." - -"Oh, we can indulge in that extravagance, Ascanio." - -"But a diamond of that size would be worth some two hundred thousand -crowns, madame." - -"Very well, we will reflect thereon. But," added the duchess, lowering -her voice, "confer a favor upon me, Ascanio." - -"I am at your service, madame." - -"A moment since, while listening to Marot's insipid trash, I spied Comte -d'Orbec at the other end of the room. Find him out, if you please, and -say to him that I would speak with him." - -"What, madame!" exclaimed Ascanio, turning pale at the count's name. - -"Did you not say that you were at my service?" continued Madame -d'Etampes haughtily. "Moreover, my reason for asking you to undertake -this commission is that you are interested in the subject of the -conversation I wish to have with Comte d'Orbec, and it may well give you -food for reflection, if they who are in love do ever reflect." - -"I will obey you, madame," said Ascanio, apprehensive lest he should -displease her at whose hands he hoped to obtain salvation. - -"Very good. Pray address the count in Italian,--I have my reasons for -requesting you to do so,--and return to me with him." - -Ascanio, to avoid the danger of any further collision with his -redoubtable foe, walked away, and asked a young nobleman wearing a lilac -favor if he had seen Comte d'Orbec, and where he was. - -"There he is," was the reply, "that old ape whispering with the Provost -of Paris, and standing so near that lovely girl." - -The lovely girl was Colombe, at whom all the dandies were gazing with -admiring curiosity. The old ape seemed to Ascanio as repulsive a -creature as a rival could desire. After scrutinizing him for a moment he -walked up to him, and to Colombe's unbounded amazement accosted him in -Italian, requesting him to go with himself to Madame d'Etampes. The -count excused himself to his fiancée and friends, and made haste to -obey the duchess's command, followed by Ascanio, who did not take his -leave until he had bestowed a significant reassuring glance upon poor -Colombe, who was confounded by the extraordinary message, and more than -all else by the sight of the messenger. - -"Ah, count, good morning," said Madame d'Etampes, as her eye fell upon -D'Orbec; "I am charmed to see you, for I have matters of importance to -discuss with you. Messieurs," she added, addressing those who were -standing near, "we have still a quarter of an hour to await the coming -of their Majesties, and if you will allow me I will seize the -opportunity to talk with my old friend Comte d'Orbec." - -All the noblemen who had crowded about the duchess hastened to stand -discreetly aside; in obedience to this unceremonious dismissal, and left -her with the king's treasurer in one of the window embrasures, as large -as one of our salons of to-day. Ascanio was about to do as the rest did, -but, at a sign from the duchess, he remained. - -"Who is this young man?" queried the count. - -"An Italian page who does not understand a word of French; you may speak -before him exactly as if we were alone." - -"Very well, madame," rejoined D'Orbec; "I have obeyed your orders -blindly, without even seeking to know your motives. You expressed a wish -that my future wife should be presented to the queen to-day. Colombe is -here with her father; but, now that I have complied with your command, I -confess that I should be glad to understand it. Do I presume too much, -madame, in asking you for some little explanation?" - -"You are the most devoted of my faithful friends, D'Orbec; happily there -is still much that I can do for you, but I do not know if I shall ever -be able to pay my debt to you: however, I will try. This treasurership -which I have given you is simply the corner stone upon which I propose -to build your fortune, count." - -"Madame!" said D'Orbec, bowing to the ground. - -"I am about to speak frankly to you, therefore; but before all let me -offer my congratulations. I saw your Colombe just now: she is truly -ravishingly beautiful; a little awkward, but that adds to her charm. And -yet, between ourselves, I have racked my brain in vain,--I know you, and -I cannot understand with what object you, a serious, prudent man, but -slightly enamored, I fancy, of youth and beauty, are entering into this -marriage. I say, with what object, for there must necessarily be -something underneath it: you are not the man to take such a step at -random." - -"Dame! one must settle down, madame; and the father is an old villain -who has ducats to leave to his daughter." - -"But how old is he, pray?" - -"Oh, some fifty-five or six years." - -"And you, count?" - -"About the same age; but he is so used up." - -"I begin to understand, and to recognize your fine hand. I knew that you -were above mere vulgar sentiment, and that yonder child's fascinations -did not constitute the attraction for you." - -"Fie, madame! I have never even thought of them; if she had been ugly it -would have been all the same; she happens to be pretty, so much the -better." - -"Oh, that's all right, count, otherwise I should despair of you." - -"And now that you have found me, madame, will you deign to inform me--" - -"Oh, it is simply that I am indulging in some beautiful dreams for you," -the duchess interposed. "Where I would like to see you, D'Orbec, do you -know, is in Poyet's place, for I detest him," she added, with a -malevolent glance at the chancellor, who was still walking with the -constable. - -"What, madame, one of the most exalted posts in the realm?" - -"Well, are you not yourself an eminent man, count? But alas! my power is -so precarious; my throne is upon the brink of an abyss. Even at this -moment I am in mortal terror. The king has for a mistress the wife of a -nobody, a petty judge named Féron. If the woman were ambitious we -should be ruined. I ought to have taken the initiative myself in this -whim of his Majesty's. Ah! I shall never find another like the little -Duchesse de Brissac, whom I presented to him; a sweet woman of no force -of character, a mere child. I shall always weep for her; she was not -dangerous, and talked to the king of nothing but my perfections. Poor -Marie! she assumed all the burdens of my position, and left me all the -benefits. But this Féronnière, as they call her, why, it requires all -my power to draw François I. away from her. I have exhausted my whole -arsenal of seductions, and am driven, alas! to my last intrenchment, -habit." - -"How so, madame?" - -"Mon Dieu, yes, I devote myself almost exclusively to his mind now, for -his heart is elsewhere; you can understand how much I need an auxiliary. -Where can I find her,--a devoted, sincere friend, of whom I can be sure? -Ah! I would repay her with such quantities of gold and such a host of -honors! Seek out such a one for me, D'Orbec. You know how closely the -king and the man are allied in the person of our sovereign, and to what -lengths the man can lead the king on. If we could be, not rivals but -allies, not mistresses but friends; if, while one held sway over -François, the other might hold sway over François I., France would be -ours, count, and at what a moment! just as Charles V. is about to plunge -into our net of his own free will, when we can hold him to ransom on -such terms as we choose, and take advantage of his imprudence to assure -ourselves a magnificent future in case of accident. I will explain my -plans to you, D'Orbec. This Diane who pleases you so much would no -longer threaten our fortunes, and the Chevalier de France might -become--But here is the king." - -Such was the way of Madame d'Etampes; she rarely explained her meaning, -but left it to be guessed. She would sow ideas in a man's mind, and set -avarice, ambition, and natural perversity at work; and then she would -conveniently interrupt herself. A great and useful art, which cannot be -too highly commended to many poets and innumerable lovers. - -So it was that Comte d'Orbec, eager in the pursuit of gain and honors, -corrupt to the last degree and worn out by years and dissipation, -perfectly understood the duchess, whose eyes more than once during the -interview had wandered toward Colombe. - -Ascanio's noble and straightforward nature was quite incapable of -sounding the depths of this mystery of iniquity and infamy, but he had a -vague foreboding that this strange and ominous conversation concealed -some terrible peril for his beloved, and he gazed at Madame d'Etampes in -terror. - -An usher announced the king and queen. In an instant everybody was -standing, hat in hand. - -"God have you in his keeping, messieurs," said François as he entered -the room. "I have some weighty news which I must make known to you at -once. Our dear brother, the Emperor Charles V., is at this moment _en -route_ for France, if he has not already passed the frontier. Let us -prepare, messieurs, to welcome him worthily. I need not remind my loyal -nobility of the obligations imposed upon us by the laws of hospitality -at such a time. We proved at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, that we -knew how kings should be received. Within the month Charles V., will be -at the Louvre." - -"And I, my lords," said Queen Eleanora in her sweet voice, "thank you in -advance in my royal brother's name for the welcome you will accord him." - -The nobles replied with shouts of "Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive -l'Empereur!" - -At that moment something wriggled its way along between the legs of the -courtiers toward the king; it was Triboulet. - -"Sire," said the fool, "will you permit me to dedicate to your Majesty a -work I am about to print?" - -"With all the pleasure in the world, fool," the king replied; "but I -must first know the title of the work, and how far advanced it is." - -"Sire, the work will be entitled the 'Almanac of Fools,' and will -contain a list of the greatest idiots that the world has ever seen. As -to the progress I have made with it, I have already inscribed upon the -first page the name of the king of all fools past and to come." - -"Who might this illustrious worthy be, whom you give me for cousin, and -select for king of fools?" - -"Charles V., Sire." - -"Charles V.," cried the king; "and why Charles V.?" - -"Because there is no other than Charles V. in the world, who, after -detaining you a prisoner at Madrid as he did, would be insane enough to -pass through your Majesty's dominions." - -"But suppose that he does pass through the very heart of my dominions -without accident?" - -"In that case," said Triboulet, "I promise to erase his name and put -another in its place." - -"Whose name will that be?" queried the king. - -"Yours, Sire; for in allowing him to pass you will show yourself a -greater fool than he." - -The king roared with laughter. The courtiers echoed his merriment. Poor -Eleanora alone turned pale. - -"Very good!" said François, "put my name in place of the Emperor's at -once, for I have given my word of honor, and I'll stand to it. As to the -dedication, I accept it, and here is the price of the first copy that -appears." - -With that the king tossed a well filled purse to Triboulet, who caught -it in his teeth, and hopped away on all fours, growling like a dog with -a bone. - -"Madame," said the Provost of Paris to the queen, as he stepped forward -with Colombe, "will your Majesty permit me to avail myself of this -joyful moment to present to you under happy auspices my daughter -Colombe, whom you have condescended to receive as one of your maids of -honor?" - -The kindly queen addressed a few words of congratulation and -encouragement to poor abashed Colombe, at whom the king meanwhile was -gazing in admiration. - -"By my halidome, Messire le Prévôt," said François, smiling, "do you -know that it's nothing less than high treason to have kept such a pearl -so long buried and out of sight,--a pearl so well adapted to shine in -the garland of beauties who surround the majesty of our queen. If you -are not punished, for the felony, Messire Robert, you may thank the mute -intercession of those lovely downcast eyes." - -Thereupon the king, with a graceful salutation to the charming girl, -passed on to the chapel followed by the whole court. - -"Madame," said the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, offering his hand to the -Duchesse d'Etampes, "shall we not allow the throng to pass, and remain a -little behind? We shall be more conveniently situated here than -elsewhere for a word or two of importance which I have to say to you in -private." - -"I am at your service, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," replied the duchess. "Do -not go, Comte d'Orbec; you may say anything, Monsieur de Medina, before -this old friend, who is my second self, and this young man, who speaks -nothing but Italian." - -"Their discretion is of no less consequence to you than to me, madame, -and if you feel sure of them--But we are alone, and I will go straight -to the point without digression or concealment. You understand that his -Sacred Majesty has determined to pass through France,--that he is in all -probability already within her boundaries. He is well aware, however, -that his path lies between two long lines of enemies, but he relies upon -the chivalrous loyalty of the king. You have yourself advised him so to -rely, madame, and I frankly admit that, having vastly more power than -any titular minister, you have enough influence over François to set a -trap for the Emperor, or guarantee his safety, according as your advice -is friendly or unfriendly. But why should you turn against us? It is -neither for the state's interest nor your own to do so." - -"Go on, monseigneur; you have not said all that you have to say, I -fancy?" - -"No, madame. Charles V. is a worthy successor of Charlemagne, and what a -disloyal ally might demand from him as ransom he proposes to bestow as a -gift, and to leave neither hospitality nor friendly counsel unrewarded?" - -"Superb! he will act with no less discretion than grandeur." - -"King François I. has always ardently desired the Duchy of Milan, -madame, and Charles will consent to cede that province, a never-ending -subject of contention between France and Spain, in consideration of an -annual rent charge." - -"I understand," said the duchess, "the Emperor's finances are in a -straitened condition, as everybody knows; on the other hand, the -Milanese is ruined by a score of wars, and his Sacred Majesty would not -be sorry to transfer his claim from a poor to an opulent debtor. I -refuse, Monsieur de Medina; you must yourself understand that such a -proposition could not be acceptable." - -"But, madame, overtures have already been made to his Majesty on the -subject of this investiture, and he seemed delighted with the idea." - -"I know it; but I refuse. If you can dispense with my consent, so much -the better for you." - -"Madame, the Emperor is especially desirous to know that you are in his -interest, and whatever you may desire--" - -"My influence is not merchandise to be bought and sold, Monsieur -l'Ambassadeur." - -"O madame, who implied such a thing?" - -"Hark ye! you assure me that your master desires my support, and between -ourselves he is wise. Very well! to promise it to him I demand less than -he offers. Follow me closely. This is what he must do. He must promise -François I. the investiture of the Duchy of Milan, but as soon as he -has left France behind, he must remember the violated treaty of Madrid, -and forget his promise." - -"Why, that would mean war, madame!" - -"Stay a moment, Monsieur de Medina. His Majesty will cry out and -threaten, no doubt. Thereupon Charles will consent to make the Milanese -an independent state, and will give it, free of all tribute, to Charles -d'Orléans, the king's second son; in that way the Emperor will not -aggrandize a rival. That will be worth a few crowns to him, monseigneur, -and I think that you can have nothing to say against it. As to any -personal desires I may have, as you suggested a moment since, if his -Sacred Majesty enters into my plans, he may let fall in my presence, at -our first interview, a bauble of more or less brilliancy, which I will -pick up, if it is worth the trouble, and retain as a souvenir of the -glorious alliance concluded between the successor of the Cæsars, King -of Spain and the Indies, and myself." - -The duchess turned to Ascanio, who was as terrified by her dark and -mysterious schemes as the Duke of Medina was disturbed by them, and as -Comte d'Orbec seemed delighted. - -"All this for you, Ascanio," she whispered. "To win your heart I would -sacrifice France. Well, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," she continued aloud, -"what have you to say to that?" - -"The Emperor alone can decide upon a matter of such gravity, madame; -nevertheless, everything leads me to believe that he will acquiesce in -an arrangement which almost terrifies me, it seems so favorable to us." - -"If it will set your mind at rest, I will say to you that it is in -reality equally favorable to me, and that is why I undertake to make the -king accept it. We women have our own political schemes, more profound -sometimes than yours. But I can promise you that mine are in no wise -inimical to your interests: indeed, how could they be? Meanwhile, -however, pending the decision of Charles V., you may be sure that I -shall not lose an opportunity to act against him, and that I shall do my -utmost to induce his Majesty to detain him as a prisoner." - -"What! Madame, is this your way of beginning an alliance?" - -"Go to, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur. Can a statesman like yourself fail to -see that the most essential thing for me is to put aside all suspicion -of undue influence, and that to espouse your cause openly would be the -surest method of ruining it? Moreover, I do not propose that any one -shall ever be able to betray me or denounce me. Let me be your enemy, -Monsieur le Duc, and let me talk against you. What does it matter to -you? Do you not know what mere words amount to? If Charles V. refuses to -accept my terms I will say to the king, 'Sire, trust to my generous -womanly instinct. You must not recoil before just and necessary -reprisals.' And if the Emperor accepts, I will say, 'Sire, trust to my -feminine, that is to say, feline sharpness; you must resign yourself to -commit an infamous but advantageous act." - -"Ah, madame!" said the Duke of Medina, bowing low, "what a pity it is -that you should be a queen, you would have made such a perfect -ambassador!" - -With that the duke took leave of Madame d'Etampes, and walked away, -enchanted with the unexpected turn the negotiations had taken. - -"Now it is my purpose to speak plainly and without circumlocution," said -the duchess to Comte d'Orbec, when she was alone with Ascanio and him. -"You know three things, count: first, that it is most important for my -friends and myself that my power should at this moment be put beyond -question and beyond the reach of attack; secondly, that when this -arrangement is once carried through, we shall have no occasion to dread -the future, that Charles d'Orléans will fill the place of François I., -and that the Duke of Milan, whom I shall have made what he is, will owe -me much more gratitude than the King of France, who has made me what I -am; thirdly, that your Colombe's beauty has made a vivid impression upon -his Majesty. Very well! I address myself now, count, to the superior -individual, who is not influenced by vulgar prejudices. You hold your -fate in your own hands at this moment: do you choose that Trésorier -d'Orbec should succeed Chancelier Poyet, or, in more positive terms, -that Colombe d'Orbec should succeed Marie de Brissac?" - -Ascanio in his horror made a movement which D'Orbec did not notice, as -he met the searching gaze of Madame d'Etampes with a villanous leer. - -"I desire to be chancellor," he replied briefly. - -"Good! then we are both saved. But what of the provost?" - -"Oh," said the count, "you can find some fat office for him; only let it -be lucrative rather than honorable, I beg; it will all fall to me when -the gouty old rascal dies." - -Ascanio could contain himself no longer. - -"Madame!" he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, stepping forward. - -He had no time to say more, the count had no time to be astonished, for -the folding doors were thrown open and the whole court flocked in. - -Madame d'Etampes roughly seized Ascanio's hand, and drew him aside with -her, as she said in his ear, in a suppressed voice, trembling with -passion,-- - -"Now do you see, young man, how one becomes a king's plaything, and -whither life sometimes leads us, in our own despite?" - -She said no more. Her words were interrupted by the uproarious good -humor and witty sallies of the king and courtiers. - -François I. was radiant, for Charles V. was coming. There would be -receptions, fêtes, surprises,--a glorious part for him to play. The -whole world would have its eyes fixed upon Paris and its king. He looked -forward with childish joy to the performance of the drama of which he -held all the threads. It was his nature to look at everything on the -brilliant rather than on the serious side, to aim more at effect than -anything else, and to look upon battles as tournaments, and upon royalty -as an art. With a mind well stored with strange, poetic, adventurous -ideas, François I. made of his reign a theatrical performance, with the -world for play-house. - -On this day, as he was on the eve of dazzling a rival and Europe, his -clemency and benignity were more charming than ever. - -As if reassured by his smiling face, Triboulet rolled up to him just as -he passed through the door. - -"O Sire, Sire!" cried the fool dolefully, "I come to take my leave of -you; your Majesty must make up your mind to lose me, and I weep for you -more than for myself. What will become of your Majesty without poor -Triboulet, whom you love so dearly?" - -"What! you are going to leave me, fool, at this moment when there is but -one fool for two kings?" - -"Yes, Sire, at this moment, when there are two kings for one fool." - -"But I do not propose to have it so, Triboulet. I order you to remain." - -"In that case pray see that Monsieur de Vieilleville is informed of your -royal pleasure, for I but told him what people say of his wife, and for -so simple a matter he swore that he would cut off my ears in the first -place, and then tear out my soul--if I had one, added the impious -villain, whose tongue your Majesty should order to be cut out for such -blasphemy." - -"La, la!" rejoined the king; "have no fear, my poor fool; the man who -should take your life would be very sure to be hanged a quarter of an -hour after." - -"O Sire, if it makes no difference to you--" - -"Well! what?" - -"Have him hanged a quarter of an hour before. I much prefer that." - -The whole assemblage roared with laughter, the king above all the -others. As he walked on he passed Pietro Strozzi, the noble Florentine -exile. - -"Signor Pietro Strozzi," he said, "it is a long time, altogether too -long, I confess, since you requested letters of naturalization at our -hands: it is a disgrace to us that, after having fought so valiantly in -Piedmont for the French and like a true Frenchman, you do not yet belong -to us, since your country by birth denies you. This evening, Signor -Pietro, Messire Le Maçon, my secretary, will take steps to hasten the -issuance of your letters of naturalization. Do not thank me: for my -honor and your own Charles V. must find you a Frenchman.--Ah! there you -are, Cellini, and you never come empty-handed. What have you under your -arm, my friend? But stay a moment; it shall not be said, i' faith, that -I did not surpass you in munificence. Messire Antoine Le Maçon, you -will see that letters of naturalization are issued to my good friend -Benvenuto at the same time with the great Pietro Strozzi's, and you will -issue them without expense to him; a goldsmith cannot put his hand upon -five hundred ducats so readily as a Strozzi." - -"Sire," said Benvenuto, "I thank your Majesty, but I pray you to forgive -my ignorance; what are these letters of naturalization?" - -"What!" exclaimed Antoine Le Maçon, with great gravity, while the king -laughed like a madman at the question; "do you not know, Master -Benvenuto, that letters of naturalization are the greatest honor his -Majesty can bestow upon a foreigner,--that you thereby become a -Frenchman?" - -"I begin to understand, Sire, and I thank you again," said Cellini. "But -pardon me; as I am already at heart your Majesty's subject, of what use -are these letters?" - -"Of what use are the letters?" rejoined François, still in the best of -humor; "why they are of this use, Benvenuto, that now that you are a -Frenchman, I can make you Seigneur du Grand-Nesle, which was not -possible before. Messire Le Maçon, you will add to the letters of -naturalization the definitive deed of the château. Do you understand -now, Benvenuto, of what use the letters of naturalization are?" - -"Yes, Sire, and I thank you a thousand times. One would say that our -hearts understood each other without words, for this favor which you -bestow upon me to-day is a step toward a very, very great favor which I -shall perhaps dare to ask at your hands some day, and is, so to say, a -part of it." - -"You know what I promised you, Benvenuto. Bring me my Jupiter, and ask -what you will." - -"Yes, your Majesty has a good memory, and I hope your word will prove to -be as good. Yes, your Majesty, you have it in your power to gratify a -wish, upon which my life in a measure depends, and you have already, by -a sublime instinct worthy of a king, made its gratification more easy." - -"It shall be done, my eminent artist, according to your wish; but, -meanwhile, allow us to see what you have in your hands." - -"It is a silver salt dish, Sire, to go with the ewer and the basin." - -"Show it me quickly, Benvenuto." - -The king scrutinized, carefully and silently as always, the marvellous -piece of work which Cellini handed him. - -"What a blunder!" he said at last; "what a paradox!" - -"What! Sire," cried Benvenuto, disappointed beyond measure, "your -Majesty is not pleased with it?" - -"Certainly not, monsieur. Why, you spoil a lovely idea by executing it -in silver! it must be done in gold, Cellini. I am very sorry for you, -but you must begin again." - -"Alas! Sire," said Benvenuto sadly, "be not so ambitious for my poor -works. The richness of the material will destroy these treasures of my -thought, I greatly fear. More lasting glory is to be attained by working -in clay than in gold, Sire, and the names of us goldsmiths survive us -but a little while. Necessity is sometimes a cruel master, Sire, and men -are always greedy and stupid. Who can say that a silver cup for which -your Majesty would give ten thousand ducats, might not be melted down -for ten crowns?" - -"How now! do you think that the King of France will ever pawn the dishes -from his table?" - -"Sire, the Emperor of Constantinople pawned Our Saviour's crown of -thorns with the Venetians." - -"But a King of France took it out of pawn, monsieur." - -"Very true; but think of the possible risks, revolution and exile. I -come from a country whence the Medicis have been thrice expelled and -thrice recalled, and it is only kings like your Majesty, who are -glorious in themselves, from whom their treasures cannot be taken away." - -"No matter, Benvenuto, no matter, I desire my salt dish in gold, and my -treasurer will hand you to-day a thousand gold crowns of the old weight -for that purpose. You hear, Comte d'Orbec, to-day, for I do not wish -Cellini to lose a minute. Adieu, Benvenuto, go on with your work, the -king does not forget his Jupiter; adieu, messieurs, think of Charles V." - -While François was descending the staircase to join the queen, who was -already in her carriage, and whom he was to accompany on horseback, -divers incidents occurred which we must not omit to mention. - -Benvenuto walked up to Comte d'Orbec and said to him: "Be good enough to -have the gold ready for me, Messire le Trésorier. In obedience to his -Majesty's commands I go at once to my house for a bag, and shall be at -your office in a half-hour." The count bowed in token of acquiescence, -and Cellini took his departure alone, after looking around in vain for -Ascanio. - -At the same time Marmagne was speaking in an undertone with the provost, -who still held Colombo's hand. - -"This is a magnificent opportunity," he said, "and I shall go at once -and summon my men. Do you tell D'Orbec to detain Cellini as long as -possible." - -With that he disappeared, and Messire d'Estourville went to D'Orbec and -whispered a few words in his ear, after which he said aloud,-- - -"Meanwhile, count, I will take Colombe back to the Hôtel de Nesle." - -"Very good," said D'Orbec, "and come and let me know the result this -evening." - -They separated, and the provost slowly walked away with his daughter -toward the Hôtel de Nesle, followed without their knowledge by Ascanio, -who did not lose sight of them, but kept his eyes fixed fondly upon his -Colombe. - -Meanwhile the king was mounting a superb sorrel, his favorite steed, -presented to him by Henry VIII. - -"We are to make a long journey together to-day," he said, - - -"'Gentil, joli petit cheval, -Bon à monter, doux à descendre.'[11] - - -Faith, there are the first two lines of a quatrain," he added; "cap them -for me, Marot, or you, Master Melin de Saint-Gelais." - -Marot scratched his head, but Saint-Gelais anticipated him, and with -extraordinary promptness and success continued:-- - - -"Sans que tu sois un Bucéphal, -Tu portes plus grand qu'Alexandre."[12] - - -He was applauded on all sides, and the king, already in the saddle, -waved his hand gracefully in acknowledgment of the poet's swift and -happy inspiration. - -Marot returned to the apartments of the Queen of Navarre, more out of -sorts than ever. - -"I don't know what the matter was with them at court to-day," he -grumbled, "but they were all extremely stupid." - - -[Footnote 8: It was at Villers-Cotterets, a small town in the department of -Aisne, where François I. had a château, that the famous ordinance -was signed, providing that the acts of sovereign courts should no -longer be written in Latin, but should be drawn up in the vernacular. -This château is still in existence, although sadly shorn of its -pristine magnificence, and diverted from the uses for which it was -originally intended. Begun by François I., who carved the salamanders -upon it, it was finished by Henri II., who added his cipher -and that of Catherine de Medicis. The visitor may still see those -two letters, masterpieces of the Renaissance, connected,--and note -this well, for the spirit of the time is epitomized in this lapidary -fact,--connected by a lover's knot, which includes also the crescent -of Diane de Poitiers. A charming, but, we must agree, a strange -trilogy, which consists of the cipher and arms of the husband, the -wife, and the mistress.] - -[Footnote 9: _Ce maraud de Marot._] - -[Footnote 10: - -I often wish that I were Phœbus, -Not for his heaven-born knowledge of herbs, -For the pain which I seek to deaden -Can be cured by no herb that grows. -Nor is it to have my abode in the firmament, -Nor for his bow to contend against Love, -For I do not choose to betray my king. -I long to be Phœbus simply for this, -To be beloved by Diane the fair.] - -[Footnote 11: - -Dainty, pretty little creature, -Kind to mount, to dismount gentle.] - -[Footnote 12: - -Though thou'rt not a Bucephalus, -Thou bearest a greater than Alexander.] - - - - -II - - -FOUR VARIETIES OF BRIGANDS - - -Benvenuto crossed the Seine in all haste, and procured, not a bag as he -had told Comte d'Orbec that he should, but a small wicker basket given -him by one of his cousins, a nun at Florence. As he was determined to -make an end of the affair that day, and it was already two o'clock, he -did not wait for Ascanio, whom he had completely lost sight of, nor his -workmen, who had gone to dinner; but started at once for Rue -Froid-Manteau, where Comte d'Orbec had his official residence; and -although he kept his eyes open he saw nothing on the way to cause him -the least uneasiness. - -When he reached the treasurer's abode that dignitary informed him that -he could not deliver his gold to him at once, as there were certain -indispensable formalities to be gone through with, a notary to be -summoned, and a contract to be drawn up. The count apologized with a -thousand expressions of regret, knowing Cellini's impatient nature, and -was so courteous withal that it was impossible to be angry; and -Benvenuto resigned himself to wait, believing in the reality of these -obstacles to a speedy delivery of the gold. - -Cellini desired to take advantage of the delay to send for some of his -workmen, that they might accompany him home, and help him to carry the -gold. D'Orbec quickly volunteered to send one of his servants to the -Hôtel de Nesle with the message; then he led the conversation around to -Cellini's work, and the king's evident partiality for him,--to anything -in short likely to incline Benvenuto to be patient,--which was the less -difficult of accomplishment as he had no reason for wishing ill to the -count, and no suspicion that the count had any reason for being hostile -to him. There was his desire to supplant him with Colombe, but no one -knew of that desire save Ascanio and himself. He therefore met the -treasurer's friendly overtures graciously enough. - -Further time was necessary to select gold of the degree of fineness -which the king desired him to have. The notary was very slow in coming. -A contract is not drawn up in a moment. In short, when, after the final -exchange of courtesies, Benvenuto made ready to return to his studio, -night was beginning to fall. He questioned the servant who was sent for -his companions, and was told that they were unable to come, but that he -would gladly carry the gold for him. Benvenuto's suspicions were -aroused, and he declined the offer, courteous as it was. - -He placed the gold in his little basket, then passed his arm through the -two handles, and as there was barely room for his arm, the cover was -securely pressed down, and he carried it much more easily than if it had -been in a bag. He had a stout coat of mail with sleeves beneath his -coat, a short sword at his side, and a dagger in his belt. He set out on -his homeward journey at a quick pace, but cautiously nevertheless. Just -before he started he noticed several servants speaking together in low -tones, and that they left the house in a great hurry, but they made a -show of going in a different direction from that taken by him. - -To-day, when one can go from the Louvre to the Institute by the Pont des -Arts, Benvenuto's homeward journey would be but a stride, but at that -time it was a long walk. He was obliged, starting from Rue -Froid-Manteau, to follow the quay as far as the Châtelet, cross the -Pont des Meuniers, go across the city by Rue Saint-Barthélemy, cross to -the left bank by the Pont Saint-Michel, and from there go down the river -to the Grand-Nesle by the deserted quay. The reader need not wonder -that, in those days of thieves and cut-throats, Benvenuto, -notwithstanding his courage, felt some anxiety touching so considerable -a sum as that he carried upon his arm; and if he will go forward with us -two or three hundred yards in advance of Benvenuto he will see that his -anxiety was not unjustifiable. - -When it began to grow dark, about an hour before, four men of forbidding -appearance, wrapped in great cloaks, stationed themselves upon the Quai -des Augustins, at a point abreast of the church. The river bank was -bordered with walls only at that spot, and was absolutely deserted at -that moment. While they stood there they saw no one pass but the -provost, on his way back to the Châtelet after escorting Colombe to the -Petit-Nesle, and him they saluted with the respect due the constituted -authorities. - -They were talking in low tones in a recess formed by the church, and -their hats were pulled well down over their eyes. Two of them are -already known to us: the bravos employed by Vicomte de Marmagne in his -ill-fated expedition against the Grand-Nesle. Their names were Ferrante -and Fracasso. Their companions, who earned their livelihood at the same -honorable calling, were named Procope and Maledent. In order that -posterity may not quarrel over the nationality of these four valiant -captains, as it has done for three thousand years over that of old -Homer, we will add that Maledent was a Picard, Procope a Bohemian, and -that Ferrante and Fracasso first saw the light beneath the soft skies of -Italy. As to their distinctive callings in time of peace, Procope was a -jurist, Ferrante a pedant, Fracasso a dreamer of dreams, and Maledent a -fool. It will be seen that the fact that we are ourselves a Frenchman -does not blind us to the character of the only one of these four toilers -who happened to be our compatriot. - -In battle all four were demons. - -Let us listen for a moment to their friendly and edifying conversation. -We may be able to judge therefrom what manner of men they were, and what -danger was impending over our good friend, Benvenuto. - -"At all events, Fracasso," said Ferrante, "we shan't be hampered to-day -with that great red-faced viscount, and our poor swords can leave their -scabbards without his crying, 'Retreat!'--the coward,--and forcing us to -turn tail." - -"Very true," rejoined Fracasso, "but as he leaves us all the risk of the -combat, for which I thank him, he ought to leave us all the profit too. -By what right does the red-haired devil reserve five hundred crowns for -his own part? I admit that the five hundred that remain make a very -pretty prize. A hundred and twenty-five for each of us does us -honor,--indeed, when times are hard, I sometimes find it necessary to -kill a man for two crowns." - -"For two crowns! Holy Virgin!" cried Maledent; "shame! that brings -discredit on the profession. Don't say such things when I am with you, -for any one who overheard you might confound us with each other, my dear -fellow." - -"What would you have, Maledent?" said Fracasso, in a melancholy tone; -"life has its crosses, and there are times when one would kill a man for -a bit of bread. It seems to me, my good friends, that two hundred and -fifty crowns are worth just twice as much as a hundred and twenty-five. -Suppose that after we have killed our man we refuse to settle with that -great thief of a Marmagne?" - -"You forget, brother," rejoined Procope seriously, "that would be -to disregard our agreement, to defraud our patron, and we must be loyal -in everything. Let us hand the viscount the five hundred crowns to the -last sou, as agreed, that is my advice. But _distinguamus_, let us make -a distinction; when he has pocketed them, and when he realizes that we -are honorable men, I fail to see why we shouldn't fall upon him and take -them from him." - -"Well thought of!" exclaimed Ferrante in a judicial tone. "Procope was -always distinguished for uprightness of character conjoined with a vivid -imagination." - -"Mon Dieu! that is because I have studied law a little," said Procope -modestly. - -"But," continued Ferrante, with the air of pedantry which was habitual -to him, "let us not involve ourselves in too many plans at once. _Secte -ad terminum eamus_. Let the viscount sleep in peace; his turn will come. -This Florentine goldsmith is the one we have to deal with at the moment; -for greater security, it was desired that four of us should set upon -him. Strictly speaking one only should have done the deed and pocketed -the price, but the concentration of capital is a social plague, and 't -is much better that the money be divided among several friends. Let us -despatch him swiftly and cleanly. He is no ordinary man, as Fracasso and -I have learned. Let us resign ourselves, therefore, for greater -security, to attack him all four at once. It cannot be long now before -he comes. Attention! be cool, quick of foot and eye, and beware of the -Italian thrusts he'll be sure to try on you." - -"I know what it is, Ferrante," said Maledent disdainfully, "to receive a -sword-cut, whether with the edge or the point. Once on a time I made my -way at night into a certain château in the Bourbonnais on business of a -personal nature. Being surprised by the dawn before I had fully -completed it, I had no choice but to conceal myself until the following -night. No place seemed to me so appropriate for that purpose as the -arsenal of the château: there were quantities of stands of arms and -trophies there, and helmets, cuirasses, armlets and cuisses, shields and -targets. I removed the upright upon which one of the suits of armor -hung, put myself in its place, and stood there, motionless upon my -pedestal, with lowered visor." - -"This is very interesting," interposed Ferrante; "go on, Maledent; how -can we better employ this period of waiting to perform one exploit, than -in listening to tales of other feats of arms. Go on." - -"I did not know," continued Maledent, "that accursed suit of armor was -used by the young men of the family to practise fencing upon. But soon -two strapping fellows of twenty came in, took down a lance and a sword -each, and began to cut and thrust at my casing with all their heart. -Well, my friends, you may believe me or not, but under all their blows -with lance and sword, I never flinched: I stood there as straight and -immovable as if I had really been of wood, and riveted to my base. -Fortunately the young rascals were not of the first force. The father -arrived in due time and urged them to aim at the joints in my armor; but -Saint Maledent, my patron, whom I invoked in a whisper, turned their -blows aside. At last that devil of a father, in order to show the -youngsters how to carry away a visor, took a lance himself, and at the -first blow uncovered my pale and terrified face. I thought I was lost." - -"Poor fellow!" said Fracasso sadly, "how could it be otherwise." - -"Fancy, if you please, that when they saw my colorless face they took me -for the ghost of their great-grandfather; and father and sons scuttled -away as if the devil was at their heels. Need I say more? I turned my -back, and did as much for my own part; and you see I came out of it with -a whole skin." - -"Very good, but the important thing in our trade, friend Maledent," said -Procope, "is not only to receive blows manfully, but to deal them -handsomely. It's a fine thing when the victim falls without a sound. In -one of my expeditions in Flanders I had to rid one of my customers of -four of his intimate friends, who were travelling in company. He -proposed at first that I should take three comrades, but I told him that -I would undertake it alone, or not at all. It was agreed that I should -do as I chose, and that I should have the stipend four times over -provided that I delivered four dead bodies. I knew the road they were to -take, and I awaited their coming at an inn which they must of necessity -pass. - -"The inn-keeper had formerly belonged to the fraternity, and had left it -for his present occupation, which allowed him to plunder travellers -without risk; but he retained some kindly sentiments for his former -brethren, so that I had no great difficulty in winning him over to my -interest in consideration of a tenth of the reward. With that -understanding we awaited our four horsemen, who soon appeared around a -bend in the road, and alighted in front of the inn, preparatory to -filling their stomachs and resting their horses. The landlord said to -them that his stable was so small that, unless they went in one at a -time, they could hardly move there, and would be in each other's way. -The first who entered was so slow about coming out, that the second lost -patience and went to see what he was doing. He also was in no hurry to -reappear, whereupon the third, weary of waiting, followed the other two. -After some little time, as the fourth was expressing his astonishment at -their delay, mine host remarked: 'Ah! I see what it is: the stable is so -extremely small, that they have gone out through the door at the rear.' - -"This explanation encouraged my last man to join his companions and -myself, for you will have guessed that I was in the stable. I allowed -him, however, the satisfaction of uttering one little cry, to say -farewell to the world, as there was no longer any danger. - -"In Roman law, Ferrante, would not that he called _trucidatio per -divisionem necis_? But, deuce take it!" added Procope, changing his -tone, "our man doesn't come. God grant that nothing has happened to him! -It will he pitch dark very soon." - -"_Suadentque cadentia sidera somnos_," added Fracasso. "And by the way, -my friends, take care that Benvenuto doesn't in the dark resort to a -trick which I once put in practice myself: it was during my sojourn on -the banks of the Rhine. I always loved the banks of the Rhine, the -country there is so picturesque and at the same time so melancholy. The -Rhine is the river of dreamers. I was dreaming then upon the banks of -the Rhine, and this was the subject of my dreams. - -"A nobleman named Schreckenstein, if my memory serves me, was to be put -to death. It was no easy matter, for he never went out without a strong -escort. This is the plan upon which I finally resolved. - -"I donned a costume like that worn by him, and one dark evening I lay in -wait for him and his escort. When I saw them coming through the solitude -and darkness, _obscuri sub nocte_, I made a desperate attack upon -Schreckenstein, who was walking a little ahead; but I was clever enough -to strike off his hat with its waving plumes, and then to change my -position so that I was standing where he should have been. Thereupon I -stunned him with a violent blow with my sword hilt, and began to shout -amid the clashing of swords and the shouts of the others, 'Help! help! -death to the brigands!' so that Schreckenstein's men fell furiously upon -their master and left him dead upon the spot, while I glided away into -the bushes. The worthy nobleman could at least say that he was killed by -his friends." - -"It was a bold stroke," said Ferrante, "but if I were to cast a backward -glance upon my vanished past I could find a still more audacious exploit -there. Like you, Fracasso, I had to deal with a chief of partisans, -always well mounted and escorted. It was in a forest in the Abruzzi. I -stationed myself in an enormous oak tree upon a great branch which -stretched out over the road at a point which the personage in question -must pass; and there I waited, musing. The sun was rising and its first -rays fell in long shafts of pale light down through the moss-grown -branches; the morning air was fresh and keen, enlivened by the songs of -birds. Suddenly--" - -"Sh!" Procope interrupted him. "I hear footsteps: attention! it's our -man." - -"Good!" muttered Maledent, glancing furtively about; "all is silent and -deserted hereabout; fortune is on our side." - -They stood without speaking or moving; their dark, threatening faces -could not be distinguished in the gathering gloom, but one might have -seen their gleaming eyes, their hands playing nervously with their -rapiers, and their attitude of breathless suspense; in the half-darkness -they formed a striking dramatic group, which no pencil but Salvator -Rosa's could adequately reproduce. - -It was in fact Benvenuto coming on at a rapid pace; as we have said, his -suspicions were aroused, and with his piercing glance he maintained a -constant watch in the darkness. As his eyes were accustomed to the -uncertain light he saw the four bandits issue from their ambush when he -was still twenty yards away, and had time to throw his cloak over his -basket, and draw his sword, before they were upon him. Furthermore, with -the self-possession which never abandoned him, he backed against the -church wall, and thus faced all of his assailants. - -They attacked him savagely. He could not retreat, and it was useless to -cry out as the château was five hundred yards away. But Benvenuto was -no novice in deeds of arms, and he received the cut-throats with vigor. - -His mind remained perfectly clear, and a sudden thought flashed through -it as he plied his sword. It was evident that this ambuscade was -directed against him, and no other. If therefore he could succeed in -throwing them off the track, he was saved. He began therefore, as the -blows rained down upon him, to joke them upon their pretended mistake. - -"What fit has seized you, my fine fellows? Are you mad? What do you -expect to make out of an old soldier like me? Is it my cloak that you -want? Does my sword tempt you? Stay, stay, you! If you want my good -sword, you must earn it! Sang-Dieu! By my soul, for thieves who seem to -have served their apprenticeship, your scent is bad, my children." - -With that he charged upon them, instead of falling back before them, but -only took one or two steps away from the wall, and immediately placed -his back against it once more, incessantly slashing and thrusting, -taking pains to throw aside his cloak several times, so that, if they -had been warned by Comte d'Orbec's servants, whom he had seen leave the -house, and who had seen him count the money, they would at least -conclude that he had not the gold upon him. Indeed, his assured manner -of speaking, and the ease with which he handled his sword with a -thousand crowns under his arm, caused the bravos to entertain some -doubts. - -"Damnation! do you suppose we have made a mistake, Ferrante?" said -Fracasso! - -"I fear so. The man seemed not so tall to me; or even if it is he, he -hasn't the gold, and that damned viscount deceived us." - -"I have gold!" cried Benvenuto, thrusting and parrying vigorously all -the while. "I have no gold save a handful of gilded copper; but if you -are ambitious to secure that, my children, you will pay dearer for it -than if it were gold belonging to another, I promise you." - -"Deuce take him!" said Procope, "he's really a soldier. Could any -goldsmith fence so cleverly as he? Expend all your wind on him, if you -choose, you fellows; I don't light for glory." - -And Procope began to heat a retreat, grumbling to himself, while the -attack of the others relaxed in vigor, by reason of their doubts, as -well as of his absence. Benvenuto, with no such motive for weakening, -seized the opportunity to drive them back, and to start for the -château, backing before his assailants, but fighting all the time, and -defending himself manfully. The savage boar was luring the hounds with -him to his den. - -"Come, my brave fellows, come with me," he said "bear me company as far -as the entrance to the Pré-aux-Clercs, the Maison Rouge, where my -sweetheart, whose father sells wine, is expecting me to-night. The road -isn't very safe, so they say, and I should be glad to have an escort." - -Upon that pleasantry, Fracasso also abandoned the chase, and went to -join Procope. - -"We are fools, Ferrante!" said Maledent; "this isn't your Benvenuto." - -"Yes, yes, I say it is himself," cried Ferrante, who had at last -discovered the basket bulging out with money under Benvenuto's arm, as a -too sudden movement disarranged his cloak. - -But it was too late: the château was within a hundred feet or less, and -Benvenuto was shouting in his powerful voice: "Hôtel de Nesle! ho! -help! help!" - -Fracasso had barely time to retrace his steps, Procope to hasten up, and -Ferrante and Maledent to redouble their efforts; the workmen who were -expecting their master, were on the alert. The door of the château was -flung open at his first shout, and Hermann the colossus, little Jehan, -Simon-le-Gaucher, and Jacques Aubry came running out armed with pikes. - -At that sight the bravos turned and fled. - -"Wait, wait, my dear young friends," Benvenuto shouted to the fugitives; -"won't you escort me a little farther? O the bunglers! who couldn't take -from one lone man a thousand golden crowns which tired his arm!" - -The brigands had in fact succeeded in inflicting no other injury than a -slight scratch upon their opponent's hand, and they made their escape -shamefaced, and Fracasso howling with pain. Poor Fracasso at the very -last lost his right eye, and was one-eyed for the rest of his days, a -circumstance which accentuated the tinge of melancholy which was the -most prominent characteristic of his pensive countenance. - -"Well, my children," said Benvenuto to his companions, when the -footsteps of the bravos had died away in the distance, "we must have -some supper after that exploit. Come all and drink to my escape, my dear -rescuers. But God help inc! I do not see Ascanio among you. Where is -Ascanio?" - -The reader will remember that Ascanio left the Louvre before his master. - -"I know where he is?" said little Jehan. - -"Where is he, my boy?" asked Benvenuto. - -"Down at the end of the garden, where he has been walking for half an -hour; the student and I went there to talk with him, but he begged us to -leave him alone." - -"Strange!" said Benvenuto. "How did he fail to hear my shout? How is it -that he did not hasten to me with the others? Do not wait for me, but -sup without me, my children. Ah, there you are, Scozzone!" - -"O mon Dieu! what is this they tell me,--that some one tried to murder -you, master?" - -"Yes, yes, there was something like that." - -"Mon Dieu!" cried Scozzone. - -"It was nothing, my dear girl, nothing," said Benvenuto consolingly, for -poor Catherine had become as pale as death. "Go now and bring wine, of -the best, for these gallant fellows. Take the keys of the cellar from -Dame Ruperta, Scozzone, and select it yourself." - -"Why, you are not going out again?" said Scozzone. - -"No, never fear: I am going to find Ascanio in the garden. I have -important matters to discuss with him." - -Scozzone and the others returned to the studio, and Benvenuto walked -toward the gate leading to the garden. - -The moon was just rising, and the master saw Ascanio very plainly; but, -instead of walking, the young man was climbing a ladder set against the -wall between the gardens of the Grand and Petit-Nesle. When he reached -the top, he pulled the ladder up after him, lowered it on the other -side, and disappeared. - -Benvenuto passed his hand over his eyes like a man who cannot believe -what he sees. Forming a sudden resolution, he went straight to the -foundry and up into his cell, stepped to the window sill, and leaped to -the wall of the Petit-Nesle; from there, with the aid of a stout vine, -he dropped noiselessly into Colombe's garden; it had rained in the -morning, and the ground was so damp that his footfalls were deadened. - -He put his ear to the ground, and questioned the silence for some -moments. At last he heard subdued voices in the distance, which guided -his steps; he at once rose, and crept cautiously forward, feeling his -way, and stopping from moment to moment. Soon the voices became more -distinct. - -Benvenuto walked toward them, and at last, when he reached the second -path which crossed the garden, he recognized Colombe, or rather divined -her presence in the shadow, dressed in white, and sitting beside Ascanio -on the bench we already know. They were talking in low tones, but -distinctly, and with animation. - -Hidden from their observation by a clump of trees, Benvenuto drew near -and listened. - - - - -III - - -AN AUTUMN NIGHT'S DREAM - - -It was a beautiful autumn evening, calm and clear. The moon had driven -away almost all the clouds, and the few which remained were scattered -here and there over the star-strewn sky. Around the group talking and -listening in the garden of the Petit-Nesle, everything was calm and -silent, but within their hearts all was sadness and agitation. - -"My darling Colombe," said Ascanio, while Benvenuto, standing cold and -pale behind him, seemed to be listening with his heart rather than with -his ears, "my dearest love, why, alas! did our paths meet? When you know -all that I have to tell you of misery and horror, you will curse me for -being the bearer of such news." - -"Nay, my dear," replied Colombe, "whatever you may have to tell me, I -shall bless you, for in my eyes you are as one sent by God. I never -heard my mother's voice, but I feel that I should have listened to her -as I listen to you. Go on, Ascanio, and if you have terrible things to -tell me, your voice will at least comfort me a little." - -"Summon all your courage and all your strength," said Ascanio. - -Thereupon he told her all that had taken place in his presence between -Madame d'Etampes and Comte d'Orbec; he described the whole plot, a -combination of treason against the kingdom and designs upon the honor of -an innocent child; he subjected himself to the agony of explaining the -infamous bargain made by the treasurer to that ingenuous soul, aghast at -this revelation of wickedness; he must needs to make the maiden, whose -heart was so pure that she did not blush at his words, understand the -cruel refinements of torture and ignominy which hatred and baffled love -suggested to the favorite. All that was perfectly clear to Colombe's -mind was that her lover was filled with loathing and dismay, and, like -the slender vine which has no other support than the sapling to which it -clings, she trembled and shuddered with him. - -"My dear," she said, "you must make known this fearful plot against my -honor to my father. My father does not suspect our love, he owes you his -life, and he will listen to you. Oh, never fear! he will rescue me from -the clutches of Comte d'Orbec." - -"Alas!" was Ascanio's only reply. - -"O my love!" cried Colombe, who understood all the apprehension -contained in her lover's exclamation. "Oh! can you suspect my father of -complicity in so hateful a design? That would be too wicked, Ascanio. -No, my father knows nothing, suspects nothing, I am sure, and although -he has never shown me any great affection, he would never with his own -hand plunge me into shame and misery." - -"Forgive me, Colombe," rejoined Ascanio, "but your father is not -accustomed to see misery in increased wealth. A title would conceal the -shame, and in his courtier-like pride he would deem you happier as a -king's mistress than as an artist's wife. It is my duty to hide nothing -from you, Colombe: Comte d'Orbec told Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes that -he would answer for your father." - -"Just God, is it possible!" cried the poor girl. "Was such a thing ever -seen, Ascanio, as a father who sold his daughter?" - -"Such things are seen in all countries and at all times, my poor angel, -and more than ever at this time and in this country. Do not picture to -yourself the world as fashioned after the image of your heart, or -society as taking pattern by your virtue. Yes, Colombe, the noblest -names of France have shamelessly farmed out the youth and beauty of -their wives and daughters to the royal lust: it is looked upon as a -matter of course at court, and your father, if he cares to take the -trouble to justify himself, will not lack illustrious precedents. I beg -you to forgive me, my beloved, for bringing your chaste and spotless -soul so abruptly in contact with this hideous reality; but I cannot -avoid the necessity of showing you the snare that is laid for you." - -"Ascanio, Ascanio!" cried Colombe, hiding her face against the young -man's shoulder; "my father also turns against me. Oh, simply to repeat -it kills me with shame! Where can I fly for shelter? Where but to your -arms, Ascanio? Yes, it is for you to save me now. Have you spoken to -your master, to Benvenuto, who is so strong and great and kindly, -judging by your description of him, and whom I love because you love -him?" - -"Nay, do not love him, do not love him, Colombe!" cried Ascanio. - -"Why not?" whispered the girl. - -"Because he loves you, because, instead of the friend upon whom we -thought we could rely, he is one enemy the more we have to contend -against: an enemy, you understand, and the most formidable of all our -enemies. Listen." - -Thereupon he told her how, as he was on the point of making a confidant -of Benvenuto, the goldsmith described to him his ideal love, and added -that the favorite sculptor of François I. by virtue of the king's word -of honor to which he had never proved false, could obtain whatever he -chose to ask after the statue of Jupiter was cast. As we know, the boon -that Benvenuto proposed to ask was Colombe's hand. - -"O God! we have none to look to for succor but thee," said Colombe, -raising her white hands and her lovely eyes to heaven. "All our friends -are changed to enemies, every haven of refuge becomes a dangerous reef. -Are you certain that we are so utterly abandoned?" - -"Only too certain," replied Ascanio. "My master is as dangerous to us as -your father, Colombe. Yes," he continued, wringing his hands, "I am -almost driven to hate him, Benvenuto, my friend, my master, my -protector, my father, my God! And yet I ask you, Colombe, why I should -hear him ill will? Because he has fallen under the spell to which every -exalted mind that comes in contact with yours must yield; because he -loves you as I love you. His crime is my own, after all. But you love -me, Colombe, and so I am absolved. What shall we do? For two days I have -been asking myself the question, and I do not know whether I begin to -detest him, or whether I love him still. He loves you, it is true; but -he has loved me so dearly, too, that my poor heart wavers and trembles -in its perplexity like a reed shaken in the wind. What will he do? First -of all, I shall tell him of Comte d'Orbec's designs, and I hope that he -will deliver us from them. But after that, when we find ourselves face -to face as enemies, when I tell him that his pupil is his rival, -Colombe, his will, which is omnipotent as fate, will perhaps be as -blind; he will forget Ascanio to think only of Colombe; he will turn his -eyes away from the man he once loved, to see only the woman he loves, -for I feel myself that between him and you I should not hesitate. I feel -that I would remorselessly sacrifice my heart's past for its future, -earth for heaven! And why should he act differently? he is a man, and to -renounce his love would be more than human. We must therefore, fight it -out, but how can I, feeble and alone as I am, resist him. But no matter, -Colombe: even if I should come some day to hate him I have loved so long -and so well, I tell you now that I would not for all the world subject -him to the torture he inflicted upon me the other morning when he -declared his love for you." - -Meanwhile Benvenuto, standing like a statue behind his tree, felt the -drops of icy sweat roll down his forehead, and his hand clutched -convulsively at his heart. - -"Poor Ascanio! dear heart!" returned Colombe, "you have suffered -bitterly already, and have much to suffer still. But let us face the -future calmly. Let us not exaggerate our griefs, for the prospect is not -altogether desperate. Including God there are three of us to make head -against misfortune. You would rather see me Benvenuto's wife than Comte -d'Orbec's, would you not? But you would also prefer to see me wedded to -the Lord than to Benvenuto? Very well! if I am not yours, I will belong -to none but the Lord, be sure of that, Ascanio. Your wife in this world, -or your betrothed in the other. That is my promise to you, Ascanio, and -that promise I will keep: never fear." - -"Thanks, thou angel from heaven, thanks!" said Ascanio. "Let us forget -the great world around us, and concentrate our lives upon this little -thicket where we now are. Colombe, you haven't told me yet that you love -me. Alas! it would almost seem that you are mine because you could not -do otherwise." - -"Hush! Ascanio, hush! do you not see that I am trying to sanctify my -happiness by making it a duty? I love you, Ascanio, I love you!" - -Benvenuto could no longer find strength to stand; he fell upon his knees -with his head against a tree; his haggard eyes were fixed vacantly on -space, while, with his ear turned toward the young people, he listened -with feverish intentness. - -"Dear Colombe," echoed Ascanio, "I love you, and something tells me that -we shall be happy, and that the Lord will not abandon the loveliest of -all his angels. Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! in this atmosphere of joy which -surrounds me, I forget the circle of grief which I must enter when I -leave you." - -"We must think of to-morrow," said Colombe: "let us help ourselves, -Ascanio, so that God may help us. It would be disloyal, I think, to -leave your master Benvenuto in ignorance of our love, for he would -perhaps incur great risk in contending against Madame d'Etampes and -Comte d'Orbec. It would not be fair: you must tell him everything, -Ascanio." - -"I will obey you, dearest Colombe, for a word from you, as you must -know, is law to me. My heart also tells me that you are right, always -right. But it will be a terrible blow for him. Alas! I judge from my own -heart. It is possible that his love for me may turn to hatred, it is -possible that he will turn me out of doors. In that case how can I, a -stranger, without friends or shelter, resist such powerful enemies as -the Duchesse d'Etampes and the king's treasurer. Who will help me to -defeat the plans of that terrible couple? Who will fight on my side in -this unequal struggle? Who will hold out a helping hand to me?" - -"I!" said a deep, grave voice behind them. - -"Benvenuto!" cried the apprentice, without even turning round. - -Colombe shrieked and sprang to her feet. Ascanio gazed at his master, -wavering between affection and wrath. - -"Yes, it is I, Benvenuto Cellini," continued the goldsmith,--"I, whom -you do not love, mademoiselle,--I, whom you no longer love, Ascanio, and -who come to save you both, nevertheless." - -"What do you say?" cried Ascanio. - -"I say that you must come and sit down again, here by my side, for we -must understand one another. You have no need to tell me aught. I have -not lost a word of your conversation. Forgive me for listening after I -came upon you by chance, but you understand: it is much better that I -should know all. You have said some things very sad and terrible for me -to hear; but some kind things too. Ascanio was sometimes right and -sometimes wrong. It is very true, Mademoiselle, that I would have -disputed you with him. But since you love him, that's the end of it, be -happy; he has forbidden you to love me, but I will force you to it by -giving you to him." - -"Dear master!" cried Ascanio. - -"You suffer, monsieur, do you not?" said Colombe clasping her hands. - -"Ah, thanks, thanks!" said Benvenuto, as his eyes filled with tears, but -restraining his feelings with a mighty effort. "You see that I suffer. -He would not have noticed it, ungrateful boy! But nothing escapes a -woman's eyes. Yes, I will not tell you a falsehood; I do suffer! and why -not, since you are lost to me? But at the same time I am happy, because -I am able to serve you; you will owe everything to me, and that thought -comforts me a little. You were wrong, Ascanio; my Beatrice is jealous, -and will brook no rival; you, Ascanio, must finish the statue of Hebe. -Adieu, my sweetest dream,--the last!" - -Benvenuto spoke with effort, in a broken voice. Colombe leaned -gracefully toward him, and put her hand in his. - -"Weep, my friend, weep," she said softly. - -"Yes, yes," said Cellini, bursting into tears. - -He stood for some time without speaking, weeping bitterly, and trembling -with emotion from head to foot. His forceful nature gladly sought relief -in tears too long held back. Ascanio and Colombe looked on in respectful -silence at this exhibition of bitter grief. - -"Except on the day when I wounded you, Ascanio, except at the moment -when I saw your blood flow, I have not wept for twenty years," he said -at last, recovering his self-control; "but it has been a hard blow to -me. I was in such agony just now behind those trees that I was tempted -for a moment to plunge my dagger in my heart, and end it all. The only -thing that held my hand was your need of me, and so you saved my life. -All is as it should be, after all. Ascanio has twenty years more of -happiness to give you than I have, Colombe. And then he is my child: you -will be very happy together, and it will rejoice my father's heart. -Benvenuto will succeed in triumphing over Benvenuto himself, as well as -over his enemies. It is the lot of us creators to suffer, and perhaps -each one of my tears will cause some lovely statue to spring up, as each -of Dante's tears became a sublime strain. You see, Colombe, I am already -returning to my old love, my cherished sculpture: that love will never -forsake me. You did well to bid me weep: all the bitterness has been -washed from my heart by my tears. I am sad still, but I am kind once -more, and I will forget my pain in my efforts to save you." - -Ascanio took one of the master's hands, and pressed it warmly in his -own. Colombe took the other, and put it to her lips. Benvenuto breathed -more heavily than he had yet done. Shaking his head, he said with a -smile:-- - -"Do not make it harder for me, but spare me, my children. It will be -better never to speak of this again. Henceforth, Colombe, I will be your -friend, nothing more; I will be your father. The rest is all a dream. -How let us talk of the danger which threatens you, and of what we are to -do. I overheard you a moment since discussing your plans. Mon Dieu! you -are very young, and neither of you has an idea of what life really is. -You offer yourselves, in the innocence of your heart, to the cruel blows -of destiny, unarmed, and you hope to vanquish malignity, avarice, all -the vile passions of which man is capable with your kind hearts and your -smiles! Dear fools! I will be strong and cunning and implacable in your -stead. I am wonted to it, but you,--God created you for happiness and -tranquillity, my lovely cherubs, and I will see to it that you fulfil -your destiny. - -"Ascanio, anger shall not furrow thy calm brow: grief, Colombe, shall -not disturb the pure outlines of thy face. I will take you in my arms, -soft-eyed, charming pair; I will bear you so through all the mire and -misery of life, and will not set you down until you have arrived safe -and sound at perfect joy; and then I'll gaze at you, and be happy in -your happiness. But you must have blind confidence in me; I have my own -peculiar ways, abrupt and hard to understand, and which may perhaps -alarm you a little, Colombe. I conduct myself somewhat after the manner -of artillery, and I go straight to my goal, heedless of what I may meet -on the road. Yes, I think more of the purity of my intentions, I -confess, than of the morality of the means I use. When I set about -modelling a beautiful figure I care but little whether the clay soils my -fingers. The figure finished, I wash my hands, and that's the end of it. -Do you then, mademoiselle, with your refined and timorous heart, leave -me to answer to God for my acts. He and I understand each other. I have -a powerful combination to deal with. The count is ambitious, the provost -avaricious, and the duchess very subtle. They are each and all very -powerful. You are in their power, and in their hands, and two of them -have rights over you: it may perhaps be necessary to resort to craft and -violence. I shall arrange it, however, so that you and Ascanio will have -no part in a contest in every way beneath you. Come, Colombe, are you -ready to close your eyes, and allow yourself to be led? When I say, 'Do -this,' will you do it?--'Remain there,' will you remain?--'Go,' will you -go?" - -"What does Ascanio say? asked Colombe. - -"Colombe," returned the apprentice, "Benvenuto is great and good: he -loves us and forgives the injury we have done him. Let us obey him, I -implore you." - -"Command me, master," said Colombe, "and I will obey you as if you were -sent by God himself. - -"Very well, my child. I have but one thing more to ask you; it will cost -you dear, perhaps, but you must make up your mind to it; thereafter your -part will be confined to waiting, and allowing circumstances and myself -to do our work. In order that both of you may have more perfect faith in -me, and that you may confide unhesitatingly in one whose life may not be -unspotted, but whose heart has remained pure, I am about to tell you the -story of my youth. All stories resemble one another, alas! and sorrow -lies at the heart of every one. Ascanio, I propose to tell you how my -Beatrice, the angel of whom I have spoken to you, came to be associated -with my existence; you shall know who she was, and you will wonder less -no doubt at my determination to abandon Colombe to you, when you realize -that by that sacrifice I am but beginning to pay to the child the debt I -owe the mother. Your mother! a saint in paradise, Ascanio! Beatrice -would say blessed; Stefana would say crowned." - -"You have always told me, master, that you would tell me your whole -story some day." - -"Yes, and the moment has come to redeem my promise. You will have even -more confidence in me, Colombe, when you know all the reasons I have for -loving our Ascanio." - -Thereupon Benvenuto took a hand of each of his children in his own, and -told them what follows, in his grave, melodious voice, beneath the -glimmering stars in the peaceful silence of the night. - - - - -IV - - -STEFANA - - -"Twenty years since, I was twenty years old, as you are now, Ascanio, -and I was at work with a Florentine goldsmith named Raphael del Moro. He -was a good workman and did not lack taste; but he cared more for rest -than for work, allowing himself to be inveigled into attending parties -with disheartening facility, and, although he had little money, himself -leading astray those who were in his studio. Very often I was left alone -in the house, singing over some piece of work I had in hand. In those -days I sang as Scozzone does. All the sluggards in the city came as a -matter of course to Master Raphael for employment, or rather in quest of -pleasure, for he had the reputation of being too weak ever to quarrel. -One grows rich slowly with such habits as his; so he was always hard up, -and soon came to be the most discredited goldsmith in Florence. - -"I am wrong. He had a confrère who had even less custom than he, -although he was of a noble family. But it was not for irregularity in -meeting his obligations that Gismondo Gaddi was cried down, but for his -notorious lack of talent and his sordid avarice. As everything intrusted -to him left his hands imperfect or spoiled, and not a customer, unless -he happened to be a stranger, ventured into his shop, Gismondo undertook -to earn his living by usury, and to loan money at enormous interest to -young men desirous of discounting their future prospects. This -profession succeeded better than the other, as Gaddi always demanded -good security, and went into nothing without reliable guaranties. With -that exception, he was, as he himself said, very considerate and -long-suffering; he loaned to everybody, compatriots and foreigners, Jews -and Christians. He would have loaned to St. Peter upon the keys of -paradise, or to Satan upon his estates in hell. - -"Need I say that he loaned to my poor Raphael del Moro, who consumed -every day his provision for the morrow, but whose sterling integrity -never wavered. Their constant connection in business, and the social -ostracism to which both were subjected, tended to bring the two -goldsmiths together. Del Moro was deeply grateful for his confrère's -untiring amiability in the matter of advancing money. Gaddi thoroughly -esteemed an honest and accommodating debtor. They were, in a word, the -best friends in the world, and Gismondo would not have missed for an -empire one of the parties with which Del Moro regaled him. - -"Del Moro was a widower, but he had a daughter of sixteen, named -Stefana. From a sculptor's point of view Stefana was not beautiful, and -yet her appearance was most striking. Beneath her forehead, which was -almost too high and not smooth enough for a woman, one could see her -brain at work, so to speak. Her great, moist eyes, of a velvety black -hue, moved you to respect and deep emotion as they rested upon you. An -ivory pallor overspread her face, which was lightened by a melancholy -yet charming expression, like the faint sunshine of an autumn morning. I -forget a crown of luxurious raven locks, and hands a queen might have -envied. - -"Stefana ordinarily stood bending slightly forward, like a lily swayed -by the wind. You might at times have taken her for a statue of -Melancholy. When she stood erect, when her lovely eyes sparkled, when -her nostrils dilated, when her arm was outstretched to emphasize a -command, you would have adored her as the Archangel Gabriel. She -resembled you, Ascanio, but you have less weakness of resolution and -capacity for suffering. The immortality of the soul was never more -clearly revealed to my eyes than in that slender, graceful body. Del -Moro, who feared his daughter almost as much as he loved her, was -accustomed to say that he had consigned to the tomb only the body of his -wife, that Stefana was her dead mother's soul. - -"I was at this time an adventurous youth, an impulsive giddy-pated -creature. I loved liberty before everything. I was bubbling over with -life, and I expended my surplus energy in foolish quarrels and foolish -love affairs. I worked nevertheless with no less passion than I put into -my pleasures, and despite my vagaries I was Raphael's best workman, and -the only one in the establishment who earned any money. But what I did -well, I did by instinct, almost by chance. I had studied the ancients to -good purpose. For whole days I had gazed upon the bas-reliefs and -statues of Athens and Rome, making studies with pencil and chisel, and -constant contact with these sublime artists of former days gave me -purity and precision of outline; but I was simply a successful imitator; -I did not create. Still, I say again, I was incontestably and easily the -cleverest and most hardworking of Del Moro's comrades. I have since -learned that the master's secret wish was that I should marry his -daughter. - -"But I was thinking little of settling down; i' faith, I was enamored of -independence, freedom from care, and an outdoor life. I was absent from -the workshop whole days at a time. I would return completely overdone -with fatigue, and yet in a few hours I would have overtaken and passed -Raphael's other workmen. I would fight for a word, fall in love at a -glance. A fine husband I should have made! - -"Moreover, my feelings when I was with Stefana in no wise resembled -those aroused by the pretty girls of Porta del Prato or Borgo Pinti. She -almost overawed me; if I had been told that I loved her otherwise than -as an elder sister I should have laughed. When I returned from one of my -escapades I dared not look Stefana in the face. She was more than stern, -she was sad. On the other hand, when fatigue or a praiseworthy zealous -impulse had detained me at home, I always sought Stefana's -companionship, her sweet face, and her sweet voice; my affection for her -had in it something serious and sacred, which I did not at the time -fully understand, but which was very pleasant to me. Very often, amid my -wildest excesses, the thought of Stefana would pass through my mind, and -my companions would ask me why I had suddenly become thoughtful. -Sometimes, when I was in the act of drawing my sword or my dagger, I -would pronounce her name as it were that of my patron saint, and I -noticed that whenever that occurred I retired from the contest unhurt. -But this tender feeling for the dear child, innocent, lovely, and -affectionate as she was, lay dormant at the bottom of my heart as in a -sanctuary. - -"For her part, it is certain, that she was as full of indulgence and -kindly feeling for me as she was cold and dignified with my slothful -comrades. She sometimes came to sit in the studio beside her father, and -I would sometimes feel her eyes fixed on my face as she bent over my -work. I was proud and happy in her preference, although I did not -explain my feeling to myself. If one of my comrades indulged in a little -vulgar flattery, and informed me that my master's daughter was in love -with me, I received his insolence so wrathfully that he never repeated -it. - -"An accident which befell Stefana proved to me how deeply she had become -rooted in my heart. - -"One day when she was in the studio looking at a piece of work, she did -not take away her little white hand quickly enough, and a bungling -workman, who was tipsy, I think, struck the little finger and the finger -beside it with his chisel. The poor child shrieked at first, then, as if -ashamed of it, smiled to reassure us, but her hand as she held it up was -covered with blood. I think I should have killed the fellow had my mind -not been concentrated upon her. - -"Gismondo Gaddi, who was present, said that he knew a surgeon in the -neighborhood, and ran to fetch him. The villanous medicaster dressed the -wound, and came every day to see Stefana; but he was so ignorant and -careless that gangrene set in. Thereupon the ass pompously declared -that, despite his efforts, Stefana's right arm would always be -paralyzed. - -"Raphael del Moro was in too straitened circumstances to be able to -consult another physician; but when I heard the imbecile announce his -decision, I refused to abide by it. I hurried to my room, emptied the -purse which contained all my savings, and ran off to Giacomo Rastelli of -Perouse, the Pope's surgeon, and the most eminent practitioner in all -Italy. At my earnest entreaty, and as the sum I offered him was by no -means contemptible, he came at once, exclaiming, 'O these lovers!' After -examining the wound, he announced that he would answer for it that -Stefana would be able to use the right arm as well as the other within a -fortnight. I longed to embrace the worthy man. He set about dressing the -poor maimed lingers, and Stefana was at once relieved. But a day or two -later it was necessary to remove the decayed bone. - -"She asked me to be present at the operation to give her courage, -whereas I was entirely lacking in it myself, and my heart felt very -small in my breast. Master Giacomo made use of some great instrument -which caused Stefana terrible pain. She could not restrain her groans, -which echoed in my heart. My temples were bathed in a cold perspiration. - -"At last the torture exceeded my strength; the cruel tool which tortured -those poor, delicate fingers tortured me no less. I rose, begging Master -Giacomo to suspend the operation, and to wait for me a quarter of an -hour. - -"I went down to the studio, and there, as if inspired by my good genius, -I made an instrument of thin, sharp steel which would cut like a razor. -I returned to the surgeon, who with that operated so gently and easily -that the dear girl felt almost no pain. In five minutes it was all over, -and a fortnight later she gave me the hand to kiss, which, as she said, -I had preserved. - -"But it would be impossible for me to describe the poignant emotion I -passed through when I saw the suffering of my poor Résignée, as I -sometimes called her. - -"Resignation was, in truth, the natural condition of her mind. Stefana -was not happy; her father's improvidence and recklessness distressed her -beyond measure; her only consolation was religion; like all unhappy -women she was pious. Very often, as I entered some church to pray, for I -have always loved God, I would spy Stefana in a corner weeping and -praying. - -"Whenever, as too frequently happened, Master Del Moro's reckless -extravagance left her penniless, she would appeal to me with a simple, -trustful confidence, which went to my heart. She would say, dear girl, -with the simplicity characteristic of noble hearts: 'Benvenuto, I beg -you to pass the night at work, to finish that reliquary, or that ewer, -for we have no money at all.' - -"I soon adopted the habit of submitting to her every piece of work that -I completed, and she would point out its imperfections and advise me -with extraordinary sagacity. Solitude and sorrow had inspired and -elevated her mind more than one would think possible. Her words, which -were at once innocent and profound, taught me more than one secret of my -art, and often opened new possibilities to my mind. - -"I remember one day when I showed her a medal which I was engraving for -a cardinal, and which had a representation of the cardinal's head on one -side, and on the other Jesus walking on the sea, and holding out his -hand to St. Peter, with this legend: '_Quare dubitasti?_' Wherefore -didst thou doubt? - -"Stefana was well pleased with the portrait, which was a very good -likeness, and very well executed. She looked at the reverse in silence -for a long while. - -"'The face of Our Lord is very beautiful,' she said at last, 'and if it -were intended for Apollo or Jupiter I should find nothing to criticise. -But Jesus is something more than beautiful; Jesus is divine. The lines -of this face are superb in their purity, but where is the soul? I admire -the man, but I look in vain for the God. Consider, Benvenuto, that you -are not an artist simply, but a Christian as well. My heart, you know, -has often bled; that is to say, alas! my heart has often doubted; and I, -too, have shaken off my depression when I saw Jesus holding out his hand -to me, and have heard the sublime words, "Wherefore hast thou doubted?" -Ah, Benvenuto, your image of him is less beautiful than he. In his -celestial countenance there was the sadness of the afflicted father, and -the clemency of the king who pardons. His forehead shone, but his mouth -smiled; he was more than great, he was good.' - -"'Wait a moment, Stefana,' said I. - -"I effaced what I had done, and in a few moments I once more began upon -the Savior's face under her eyes. - -"'Is that better?' I asked, as I handed it to her. - -"'Oh yes!' she replied, with tears in her eyes; 'so our blessed Lord -appeared to me when I was heavy-hearted. Yes, I recognize him now by his -expression of compassion and majesty. Ah, Benvenuto! I advise you always -henceforth to follow this course: before taking the wax in hand, be sure -of the thought; you possess the instrument, master the expression; you -have the material part, seek the spiritual part; let your fingers never -be aught but the servants of your mind.' - -"Such was the counsel given me by that child of sixteen, in her sublime -good sense. When I was alone I reflected upon what she had said to me, -and realized that she was right. Thus did she guide and enlighten my -instinct. Having the form in my mind, I sought the idea, and to combine -the form and the idea in such wise that they would issue from my hands a -perfectly blended whole, as Minerva came forth all armed from the brain -of Jupiter. - -"Mon Dieu! how lovely is youth, and how its memories do overpower one! -Ascanio, Colombe, this lovely evening we are passing together reminds me -of all those I passed by Stefana's side sitting upon a bench outside her -father's house. She would gaze up at the sky, and I would gaze at her. -It was twenty years ago, but it seems only yesterday; I put out my hand -and fancy that I can feel hers, but it is yours, my children; what God -does is well done. - -"Oh, simply to see her in her white dress was to feel tranquillity steal -over my soul! Often when we parted we had not uttered a word, and yet I -carried away from those silent interviews all sorts of fine and noble -thoughts, which made me better and greater. - -"But all this had an end, as all happiness in this world has. - -"Raphael del Moro had but little farther to go to reach the lowest -depths of destitution. He owed his kind neighbor Gismondo Gaddi two -thousand ducats, which he knew not how to pay. The thought drove this -honest man to desperation. He wished at least to save his daughter, and -intrusted his purpose to give her to me to one of the workmen, doubtless -that he might broach the subject to me. But he was one of the idiots -whom I had lost my temper with when they threw Stefana's sisterly -affection at my head as a reproach. The blockhead did not even allow -Raphael to finish. - -"'Abandon that scheme, Master Del Moro,' he said; 'the suggestion would -not be favorably received, my word for it.' - -"The goldsmith was proud: he believed that I despised him on account of -his poverty, and he never referred to the subject again. - -"Some time after, Gismondo Gaddi came to demand payment of his debt, and -when Raphael asked for more time. - -"'Hark ye,' said Gismondo, 'give me your daughter's hand, and I will -give you a receipt in full.' - -"Del Moro was transported with joy. To be sure Gaddi had the reputation -of being a little covetous, a little high-tempered, and a little -jealous, but he was rich, and what the poor esteem and envy most, alas! -is wealth. When Raphael mentioned this unexpected proposition to his -daughter, she made no reply; but that evening, as we left the bench -where we had been sitting together, to return to the house, she said to -me, 'Benvenuto, Gismondo Gaddi has asked my hand in marriage, and my -father has given his consent.' - -"With those simple words she left me. I leaped to my feet, and in a sort -of frenzy I went out of the city and wandered about over the fields. -Throughout the night, now running like a madman, and again lying at full -length upon the grass and weeping, a myriad of mad, desperate, frenzied -thoughts chased one another through my disordered brain. - -"'She, Stefana, the wife of that odious Gismondo!' I said to myself, -when I had in some degree recovered my self-control, and was seeking to -collect my wits. 'The thought overpowers me and terrifies me as well, -and as she would certainly prefer me, she makes a mute appeal to my -friendship, to my jealousy. Ah, yes! I am jealous, furiously jealous; -but have I the right to be? Gaddi is morose and violent tempered, but -let us be just to one another. What woman would be happy with me? Am I -not brutal, capricious, restless, forever involved in dangerous quarrels -and unholy intrigues? Could I conquer myself? No, never; so long as the -blood boils in my veins as at present, I shall always have my hand on my -dagger, and my foot outside the house. - -"'Poor Stefana! I should make her weep and suffer, I should see her lose -color and pine away. I should hate myself, and should soon come to hate -her as well, as a living reproach. She would die, and I should have her -death to answer for. No, I am not made--alas! I feel that I am not--for -calm, peaceful family joys; I must have liberty, space, conflict, -anything rather than the peace and monotony of happiness. I should break -in my grasp that fragile, delicate flower. I should torture that dear, -loving heart by my insults, and my own existence, my own heart would be -blighted by remorse. But would she be happier with this Gismondo Gaddi? -Why should she marry him? We were so happy together. After all, Stefana -must know that an artist's instincts and temperament do not easily -accommodate themselves to the rigid bonds, the commonplace necessities -of family life. I must say farewell to all my dreams of glory, renounce -the thought of making my name famous, and abandon art, which thrives on -liberty and power. How can one create when held a prisoner at the -domestic fireside? Say, O Dante Alighieri! O Michel-Angelo, my master, -how you would laugh to see your pupil rocking his children to sleep, and -asking his wife's pardon! No, I will be brave in my own behalf, and -generous to Stefana: sad and alone I will dream out my dream and fulfil -my destiny.' - -"You see, my children, that I make myself no better than I am. There was -some selfishness in my decision, but there was also much deep and -sincere affection for Stefana, and my raving seemed to border closely on -common sense. - -"The next morning I returned to the workshop in a reasonably tranquil -frame of mind. Stefana also seemed calm, but she was paler than usual. A -month passed thus. One evening Stefana said, as we parted,-- - -"'In a week, Benvenuto, I shall be Gismondo Gaddi's wife.' - -"As she did not leave me at once, I had time to look at her. She stood -with her hand on her heart, bending beneath her burden of sorrow, and -her sweet smile was sad enough to make one weep. She gazed at me with a -sorrowful expression, but without the least indication of reproach. It -seemed to me as if my angel, ready to leave earth behind, was saying -farewell to me. She stood thus, mute and motionless, for a moment, then -entered the house. - -"I was destined never to see her more in this world. - -"This time again I left the city bareheaded and running like a madman; -but I did not return the next day, or the next; I kept on until I -reached Rome. - -"I remained at Rome five years; I laid the foundation of my reputation, -I won the friendship of the Rope, I had duels and love affairs and -artistic success, but I was not contented,--something was lacking. Amid -my engrossing occupations I never passed a day without turning my eyes -toward Florence. There was no night when I did not see in my dreams -Stefana, pale-faced and sad, standing in the doorway of her father's -house, and gazing at me. - -"After five years I received a letter from Florence, sealed with black. -I read and reread it so many times that I know it now by heart. - -"It ran thus:-- - -"'Benvenuto, I am dying. Benvenuto, I loved you. - -"'Listen to the dreams I dreamed. I knew you as well as I knew myself. I -foresaw the power that is in you, and that will make you great some day. -Your genius, which I read upon your broad forehead, in your ardent -glance and your passionate gestures, would impose grave duties on her -who should bear your name. I was ready to undertake them. Happiness had -for me the solemnity of a divine mission. I would not have been your -wife, Benvenuto, I would have been your friend, your sister, your -mother. Your noble existence belongs to all mankind, I know, and I would -have assumed no other right than that of diverting you in your ennui, of -uplifting you in your moments of depression. You would have been free, -my friend, always and everywhere. Alas! I had long since become -accustomed to your lamentable absences from home, to all the exactions -of your impulsive nature, to all the whims of your tempest-loving heart. -Every powerful temperament has pressing needs. The longer the eagle has -soared aloft, the longer he is obliged to rest on earth. But when you -had torn yourself free from the feverish dreams of your genius, I would -have found once more at the awakening my sublime Benvenuto, whom I love -so dearly, and who would have belonged to me alone! I would never have -reproached you for the hours of neglect, for they would have contained -no insult for me. For my own part, knowing you to be jealous, as is -every noble heart, jealous as the God of Holy Writ, I would have -remained in seclusion when you were away, in the solitude which I love, -awaiting your return and praying for you. - -"'Such would my life have been. - -"'But when I saw that you abandoned me, I bowed submissively to God's -will and yours, closed my eyes, and placed my fate in the hands of duty. -My father ordered me to enter into a marriage which would save him from -dishonor, and I obeyed. My husband has been harsh, stern, pitiless; he -has not been content with my docile submission, but demanded a love -beyond my power to give, and punished me brutally for my involuntary -sadness. I resigned myself to endure everything. I have been, I trust, a -pure and dignified spouse, but always very sad at heart, Benvenuto. God -has rewarded me, however, even in this world, by giving me a son. My -child's kisses have for four years past prevented me from feeling -insults, blows, and last of all poverty! for my husband ruined himself -trying to gain too much, and he died last month from chagrin at his -ruin. May God forgive him as I do! - -"'I shall be dead myself within the hour, dead from the effects of my -accumulated suffering, and I bequeath my son to you, Benvenuto. - -"'Perhaps all is for the best. Who can say if my womanly weakness would -have been equal to the task I would have undertaken with you. He, my -Ascanio,--he is like me,--will be a stronger and more submissive -companion for you; he will love you better, if not more dearly. I am not -jealous of him. - -"'Do for my child what I would have done for you. - -"'Adieu, my friend. I loved you and I love you still, and I tell you -without shame or remorse, at the very doors of eternity, for my love was -holy. Adieu! be great, and I shall be happy: raise your eyes sometimes -to heaven that I may see you. - -"'Your STEFANA.'" - -"Now, Colombe and Ascanio, will you have confidence in me, and are you -ready to do what I advise?" - -The young people replied with a single exclamation. - - - - -V - - -DOMICILIARY VISITS - - -On the day following that on which this story was told in the garden of -the Petit-Nesle, by the moon's pale light, Benvenuto's studio wore its -accustomed aspect. The master was working at the gold salt dish, the -material for which he had so valiantly defended against the four bravos, -who strove to take it from him, and his life with it. Ascanio was -chiselling Madame d'Etampes's lily; Jacques Aubry, reclining lazily on a -lounging-chair, was putting question after question to Cellini, who paid -no attention to him, and imposed upon the inquisitive student the -necessity of framing his own replies. Pagolo was gazing at Catherine, -who was busy with some woman's work. Hermann and the others were filing, -welding, chiselling, and Scozzone's joyous singing furnished the element -of cheerfulness in this tranquil, busy scene. - -The Petit-Nesle was by no means so tranquil, for Colombe had -disappeared. - -There all was excitement and apprehension; they were seeking her -everywhere, and calling her name. Dame Perrine was shrieking at the top -of her voice, and the provost, who had been sent for in hot haste, was -trying to lay hold upon something, in the midst of the good woman's -lamentations, which might put him on the track of the absent one, who -was in all probability a fugitive. - -"Look you, Dame Perrine; do you say that you last saw her a few moments -after I went away last night?" demanded the provost. - -"Alas! yes, messire. Jésus Dieu! what a misfortune! The poor, dear -child seemed a bit cast down as she went to take off all her beautiful -court fixings. She put on a simple white dress--saints in Paradise, have -pity on us!--and then she said to me, 'Dame Perrine, it's a lovely -evening, and I will go and take a turn or two in my path.' It might have -been about seven o'clock. Madame here," added Perrine, pointing to -Pulchérie, the woman who had been installed as her assistant or -superior,--"Madame here had already gone to her room, doubtless to work -at those lovely dresses which she makes so well, and I was at work -sewing in the room below. I don't know how long I remained there,--it is -possible that after a while my poor tired eyes closed in spite of me, -and that I lost myself a moment." - -"As usual," interposed Pulchérie sharply. - -"At all events," continued Dame Perrine, not deigning to reply to this -insidious slander, "about ten o'clock I left my chair and went to the -garden to see if Colombe had not forgotten herself. I called and found -no one: I supposed then that she had gone to her own room and to bed -without disturbing me, as the dear child has done a thousand times. -Merciful Heaven! who would have thought--Ah! Messire le Prévôt, I can -safely say that she followed no lover, but some ravisher. I reared her -in the way--" - -"And this morning," the provost broke in impatiently, "this morning?" - -"This morning when I found that she didn't come down--Holy Virgin help -us!" - -"To the devil with your litanies!" cried Messire d'Estourville. "Say -what you have to say simply and without all these jeremiads. This -morning?" - -"Ah! Monsieur le Prévôt, you can't prevent my weeping until she is -found. This morning, messire, being alarmed at not seeing her (she is -always so early!) I knocked at her door to wake her, and, as she did not -answer, I opened the door. No one. The bed was not even rumpled, -messire. With that I called and cried, and lost my head, and you want me -not to weep!" - -"Dame Perrine," said the provost sternly; "have you admitted any one -here during my absence?" - -"I admit any one! the idea!" rejoined the governess with every -indication of stupefaction, feeling a little conscience-stricken in that -regard. "Didn't you forbid me, messire? Since when, pray, have I -allowed myself to disobey your orders? Admit some one? Oh yes, of -course!" - -"This Benvenuto, for instance, who had the assurance to deem my daughter -so fair; has he never tried to buy you?" - -"Good lack! he would have been more likely to try to fly to the moon. I -would have received him prettily, I promise you." - -"I am to understand, then, that you have never admitted a man, a young -man, to the Petit-Nesle?" - -"A young man! Merciful Heaven! a young man! Why not the devil himself?" - -"Pray who is the handsome boy," said Pulchérie, "who has knocked at the -door at least ten times since I have been here, and in whose face I have -shut the door as often?" - -"A handsome boy? Your sight must be poor, my dear, unless it was Comte -d'Orbec. Ah, bon Dieu! I know: you may mean Ascanio. You know Ascanio, -Messire? the young fellow who saved your life. Yes, I did give him my -shoe-buckles to repair. But he, that apprentice! Wear glasses, my love! -May these walls and pavements speak, if they ever saw him here!" - -"Enough," interposed the provost severely. "If you have betrayed my -confidence, Dame Perrine, I swear that you shall pay me for it! I am -going now to this Benvenuto; God knows how the clown will receive me, -but go I must." - -Contrary to his expectation Benvenuto received the provost with perfect -civility. In the face of his cool and easy manner and his good humor, -Messire d'Estourville did not dare mention his suspicions. But he said -that his daughter, having been unnecessarily alarmed the evening before, -had fled in her panic terror like a mad girl; that it was possible that -she might have taken refuge in the Grand-Nesle without Benvenuto's -knowledge,--or else that she might have fainted somewhere in the grounds -as she was passing through. In short, he lied in the most bungling way -imaginable. - -But Cellini courteously accepted all his fables and all his excuses; -indeed, he was so obliging as to appear to notice nothing out of the -way. He did more, he sympathized with the provost with all his heart, -declaring that he would be happy to assist in restoring his daughter to -a father who had always hedged her around with such touching affection. -To hear him, one might suppose the fugitive was very much in the wrong, -and could not too soon return to so pleasant a home and so loving a -parent. Moreover, to prove the sincerity of his interest in Messire -d'Estourville's affliction, he placed himself at his disposal to assist -him in his search in the Grand-Nesle and elsewhere. - -The provost, half convinced, and the more deeply affected by these -eulogiums, in that he knew in his heart that he did not deserve them, -began a careful search of his former property, of which he knew all the -ins and outs. There was not a door that he did not open, not a wardrobe -nor a chest into which he did not peer, as if by inadvertence. Having -inspected every nook and corner of the hotel itself, he went into the -garden, and searched the arsenal, foundry, stables and cellar, -scrutinizing everything most rigorously. Benvenuto, faithful to his -first offer, accompanied him throughout his investigations, and assisted -him to the utmost of his ability, offering him all the keys, and calling -his attention to this or that corridor or closet which the provost -overlooked. He advised him to leave one of his people on guard in each -spot as he left it, lest the fugitive should evade him by stealing from -place to place. - -Having continued his perquisitions for two hours to no purpose, Messire -d'Estourville, feeling sure that he had omitted nothing, and overwhelmed -by his host's politeness, left the Grand-Nesle, with profuse thanks and -apologies to its master. - -"Whenever it suits your pleasure to return," said the goldsmith, "and if -you desire to renew your investigations here, my house is open to you at -all times, as when it was your own. Indeed it is your right, messire; -did we not sign a treaty whereby we agreed to live on neighborly terms?" - -The provost thanked Benvenuto, and as he knew not how to return his -courtesy, he loudly praised, as he went away, the colossal statue of -Mars, which the artist was at work upon, as we have said. Benvenuto led -him around it, and complacently called his attention to its amazing -proportions; it was more than sixty feet high and nearly twenty in -circumference at its base. - -Messire d'Estourville withdrew much dejected. As he had failed to find -his daughter in the precincts of the Grand-Nesle, he was convinced that -she had found shelter somewhere in the city. But even at that time the -city was sufficiently large to make his own task as chief officer of the -police an embarrassing one. Then, too, there was this question to be -solved. Had she been kidnapped, or had she fled? Was she the victim of -some other person's violence, or had she yielded to her own impulse? -There was nothing to set at rest his uncertainty upon this point. He -hoped that in the first event she would succeed in escaping, and in the -second would return of her own volition. He therefore waited with what -patience he could muster, none the less questioning Dame Perrine twenty -times a day, who passed her time calling upon the saints in paradise, -and swearing by all the gods that she had admitted no one; and indeed -she was no more suspicious than Messire d'Estourville himself of -Ascanio. - -That day and the next passed without news. The provost thereupon put all -his agents in the field: a thing he had hitherto omitted to do, in order -that the unfortunate occurrence, in which his reputation was so deeply -interested, might not be noised abroad. To be sure he simply gave them -Colombe's description, without giving them her name, and their -investigations were made upon an entirely different pretext from the -real one. But although he resorted to all his secret sources of -information, all their searching was without result. - -Surely he had never been an affectionate or gentle father, but if he was -not in despair, he was in a bad temper, and his pride suffered if his -heart did not. He thought indignantly of the fine match which the little -fool would perhaps miss by reason of this escapade, and with furious -rage of the witticisms and sarcasms with which his misadventure would be -greeted at court. - -He had to make up his mind at last to confide his woful tale to Comte -d'Orbec. Colombe's _fiancé_ was grieved by the news, in the same way as -a merchant is grieved who learns that part of his cargo has been -jettisoned, and not otherwise. He was a philosopher, was the dear count, -and promised his worthy friend that, if the affair did not make too much -noise, the marriage should come off none the less; and, as he was a man -who knew how to strike when the iron was hot, he seized the opportunity -to whisper to the provost a few words as to the plans of Madame -d'Etampes regarding Colombe. - -The provost was dazzled at the honor which might be in store for him: -his anger redoubled, and he cursed the ungrateful girl who was ruining -her own chances of such a noble destiny. We spare our readers the -details of the conversation between the two old courtiers to which this -avowal of Comte d'Orbec led; we will say simply that grief and hope were -combined therein in a curiously touching way. As misfortune brings men -together, the prospective father-in-law and son-in-law parted more -closely united than ever, and without making up their minds to renounce -the brilliant prospects of which they had caught a glimpse. - -They agreed to keep the occurrence secret from everybody; but the -Duchesse d'Etampes was too intimate a friend, and too deeply interested -as an accomplice, not to be let into their confidence. It was a wise -move on their part, for she took the thing much more to heart than the -father and husband had done, and, as we know, she was better qualified -than any other to give the provost information and direct his search. - -She knew of Ascanio's love for Colombe, and she had herself forced him, -so to speak, to listen to the whole conspiracy. The young man, realizing -that a blow was to be aimed at the honor of his beloved, had perhaps -resolved upon some desperate act. But Ascanio had himself told her that -Colombe did not love him, and not loving him she would be unlikely to -lend herself to such a design. Now the Duchesse d'Etampes knew him upon -whom her suspicion first fell sufficiently well to be sure that he would -never have the courage to defy his mistress's scorn and her resistance; -and yet, despite all her reasoning, and although in her eyes all the -probabilities pointed to Ascanio's innocence, her jealous instinct told -her that Colombe must be sought at the Hôtel de Nesle, and that they -must make sure of Ascanio before everything. - -But, on the other hand, Madame d'Etampes could not tell her friends the -source of that conviction, for she must in that case confess her love -for Ascanio, and that, in the imprudence of her passion, she had made -known to him all her designs upon Colombe. She simply said to them that -she would be very much mistaken if Benvenuto were not the culprit, -Ascanio his accomplice, and the Grand-Nesle the place of concealment. To -no purpose did the provost argue with her, and swear that he had -inspected and searched every corner, she would not yield her point, -saying that she had her reasons for the faith that was in her, and she -was so obstinate in her opinion that she ended by arousing suspicion in -the mind of Messire d'Estourville, who was certain nevertheless that he -had made a thorough search. - -"However," said the duchess, "I will send for Ascanio, I will see him -and question him myself, never fear." - -"O madame! you are too kind," said the provost. - -"And you too stupid," muttered the duchess between her teeth. She -dismissed them, and set about reflecting upon the method she should -adopt to induce the young man to come to her; but before she had decided -upon any, Ascanio was announced; it was as if he had anticipated her -wish. - -He was cold and calm. The gaze with which Madame d'Etampes received him -was so piercing that you would have said she wished to read to the very -bottom of his heart; but Ascanio did not seem to notice it. - -"Madame," said he, as he saluted her, "I have come to show you your -lily, which is almost finished; almost nothing is lacking to complete it -save the two hundred thousand crown dewdrop you promised to furnish me." - -"Very well! and your Colombe?" was the only reply vouchsafed by Madame -d'Etampes. - -"If you mean Mademoiselle d'Estourville, madame," rejoined Ascanio -gravely, "I will beg you on my knees not to pronounce her name again -before me. Yes, madame, I most humbly and earnestly implore you that -this subject may never be mentioned between us, in pity's name!" - -"Aha! spite!" said the duchess, who did not remove her penetrating gaze -from Ascanio's face for an instant. - -"Whatever the feeling which influences me, madame, and though I were to -be disgraced in your eyes, I shall venture to decline hereafter to talk -with you upon this subject. I have sworn a solemn oath that everything -connected with that memory shall be dead and buried in my heart." - -"Am I mistaken?" thought the duchess; "and has Ascanio no part in this -transaction? Can it be that the child has followed some other adorer, -voluntarily or perforce, and, although lost to my ambitious schemes, has -served the interests of my passion by her flight?" - -Having indulged in these reflections beneath her breath, she continued, -aloud:-- - -"Ascanio, you beg me not to speak of her again, but you will at least -allow me to speak of yourself. You see that in obedience to your -entreaty I do not insist, but who knows if this second subject will not -be even more disagreeable to you than the first? Who knows--" - -"Forgive me for interrupting you, madame," said the young man, "but your -kindness in granting me the favor I ask emboldens me to ask another. -Although of noble birth, I am simply a poor, obscure youth, reared in -the gloom of a goldsmith's workshop, and from that artistic cloister I -am suddenly transported to a brilliant sphere, involved in the destiny -of empires, and, weak creature that I am, having powerful noblemen for -enemies, and a king for rival. And such a king, madame! François I., -one of the most powerful princes in Christendom! I have suddenly found -myself elbow to elbow with the most illustrious names of the age. I have -loved hopelessly, I have been honored with a love I could not return! -And with whose love? Great God! yours, madame, one of the loveliest and -noblest women on earth! All this has sown confusion within me and -without; it has bewildered and crushed me, madame. - -"I am as terrified as a dwarf awaking to find himself among giants: I -haven't an idea in its place, not a feeling which I can explain. I feel -lost among all these terrible animosities, all these implacable -passions, all these soaring ambitions. Madame, give me time to breathe, -I conjure you; permit the poor shipwrecked wretch to collect his -thoughts, the convalescent to recover his strength. Time, I hope, will -restore order in my mind and my life. Time, madame, give me time, and in -pity's name see in me to-day only the artist who comes to ask if his -lily is to your taste." - -The duchess stared at Ascanio in doubt and amazement; she had not -supposed that this young man, this child, was capable of speaking in -this grave, stern, poetic fashion; she felt morally constrained to obey -him, and confined her conversation to the lily, praising and advising -Ascanio, and promising to do her utmost to send him very soon the large -diamond to complete his work. Ascanio thanked her, and took his leave -with every mark of gratitude and respect. - -"Can that be Ascanio?" said Madame d'Etampes to herself, when he had -gone; "he seems ten years older. What gives him this almost imposing -gravity? Is it suffering? is it happiness? Is he sincere, in short, or -acting under the influence of that accursed Benvenuto? Is he playing a -part with the talent of a consummate artist, or is he simply following -his own nature?" - -Anne was perplexed. The strange vertigo which gradually overpowered all -those who contended with Benvenuto Cellini began to steal over her, -despite her strength of mind. She set spies upon Ascanio, who followed -him on the rare occasions when he left the studio, but that step led to -no result. At last she sent for the provost and Comte d'Orbec, and -advised them, as another would have ordered, to make a second and -unexpected domiciliary visit to the Grand-Nesle. - -They followed her advice; but although surprised at his work, Benvenuto -received them even more cordially than he received the provost alone on -the former occasion. One would have said, so courteous and expansive was -he, that their presence implied no suspicions that were insulting to -him. He told Comte d'Orbec good-humoredly of the ambush that he fell -into as he left his house with his golden burden a few days before,--on -the same day, he observed, on which Mademoiselle d'Estourville -disappeared. This time as before he offered to accompany his visitors -through the château, and to assist the provost in recovering his -authority as a father, whose sacred duties he understood so well. He was -very happy that he happened to be at home to do honor to his guests, for -he was to start that same day within two hours for Romorantin, having -been named by François I., in his condescension, as one of the artists -who were to go to meet the Emperor. - -For events in the world of politics had moved on as rapidly as those of -our humble narrative. Charles V., emboldened by his rival's public -promise, and by the secret undertaking of Madame d'Etampes, was within -a few day's journey of Paris. A deputation had been selected to go out -to receive him, and D'Orbec and the provost found Cellini in travelling -costume. - -"If he leaves Paris with the rest of the escort," D'Orbec whispered to -the provost, "in all probability he didn't carry off Colombe, and we -have no business here." - -"I told you so before we came," retorted the provost. - -However, they decided to go through with their perquisition, and set -about it with painstaking minuteness. Benvenuto accompanied them at -first, but as he saw that their investigations were likely to be very -prolonged, he asked their permission to leave them, and return to the -studio to give some orders to his workmen, as he was to take his leave -very soon, and desired to find the preparations for casting his Jupiter -finished at his return. - -He did in fact return to the studio, and distributed the work among his -men, bidding them obey Ascanio as if he were himself. He then said a few -words in Italian in Ascanio's ear, bade them all adieu, and prepared to -take his departure. A horse all saddled, and held by little Jehan, -awaited him in the outer courtyard. - -At that moment Scozzone went up to Benvenuto and took him aside. - -"Do you know, master," she said with a sober face, "that your departure -leaves me in a very difficult position?" - -"How so, my child?" - -"Pagolo is becoming fonder of me all the time." - -"Ah! is it so?" - -"And he is forever talking to me about his love." - -"What do you reply?" - -"Dame! as you bade me, master. I say that I will see, and that perhaps -it may be arranged." - -"Very well." - -"How is it very well? You don't understand, Benvenuto, that he takes -everything that I say to him most seriously, and that I may be entering -into a real engagement with him. It's a fortnight since you laid down a -rule of conduct for me to adopt, is it not?" - -"Yes, I think so; I hardly remember." - -"But I have a better memory than you. During the first five days I -replied by reasoning gently with him: I told him he must try to conquer -his passion, and love me no more. The next five days I listened in -silence, and that was a very compromising kind of an answer; but you -bade me do it, so I did it. Since then I have been driven to talk of my -duty to you, and yesterday, master, I reached a point where I besought -him to be generous, while he pressed me to confess my love for him." - -"If that is so, it puts a different face on the matter," said Benvenuto. - -"Ah, at last!" said Scozzone. - -"Yes, now listen, little one. During the first three days of my absence, -you will let him think that you love him; during the next three, you -will confess your love." - -"What, you bid me do that, Benvenuto!" cried Scozzone, deeply wounded at -the master's too great confidence in her. - -"Never you fear. What have you to reproach yourself for when I authorize -you to do it?" - -"Mon Dieu! nothing, I know," said Scozzone; "but being placed as I am -between your indifference and his love, I may end by falling in love -with him outright." - -"Nonsense! in six days? Aren't you strong enough to remain indifferent -to him six days?" - -"Yes, indeed! I give you six days; but don't remain away seven, I beg -you." - -"No fear, my child, I will return in time. Adieu, Scozzone." - -"Adieu, master," returned Scozzone, sulking, smiling, and weeping all at -once. - -While Cellini was giving Catherine these instructions, the provost and -D'Orbec returned to the studio. - -When they were left to themselves, with unrestricted freedom of -movement, they went about their search in a sort of frenzy; they -explored the garrets and cellars, sounded all the walls, moved all the -furniture; they detained all the servants they met, and displayed the -ardor of creditors with the patience of hunters. A hundred times they -retraced their steps, examining the same thing again and again, like a -sheriff's officer with a writ to serve, and when they had finished they -were flushed and excited, but had discovered nothing. - -"Well, messieurs," said Benvenuto, preparing to mount his horse, "you -found nothing, eh? So much the worse! so much the worse! I understand -what a painful thing it must be for turn sensitive hearts like yours, -but notwithstanding my sympathy with your suffering and my desire to -assist in your search I must begone. If you feel called upon to visit -the Grand-Nesle in my absence, do not hesitate, but make yourself -perfectly at home here. I have given orders that the house be open to -you at all times. My only consolation for leaving you in so anxious a -frame of mind is the hope that I shall learn upon my return that you -have found your daughter, Monsieur le Prévôt, and you your fair -_fiancée_, Monsieur d'Orbec. Adieu, messieurs." - -Thereupon he turned to his companions, who were standing in a group at -the door, all save Ascanio, who doubtless did not care to stand faee to -face with his rival. - -"Adieu, my children," he said. "If during my absence Monsieur le -Prévôt desires to inspect my house a third time, do not forget to -receive him as its former master." - -With that little Jehan threw open the door, and Benvenuto galloped away. - -"You see that we are idiots, my dear fellow," said Comte d'Orbec to the -provost. "When a man has kidnapped a girl, he doesn't go off to -Romorantin with the court." - - - - -VI - - -CHARLES THE FIFTH AT FONTAINEBLEAU - - -It was not without grave doubts and a terrible sinking at the heart that -Charles V. stepped foot upon French territory, where earth and air were, -so to speak, his enemies, whose king he had treated unworthily when he -was a prisoner in his hands, and whose Dauphin he had perhaps -poisoned,--he was at least accused of it. Europe anticipated terrible -reprisals on the part of François I. from the moment that his rival -placed himself in his power. But Charles's audacity, great gambler in -empires that he was, would not permit him to draw back; and as soon as -he had skilfully felt the ground and paved the way, he boldly crossed -the Pyrenees. - -He counted upon finding devoted friends at the French court, and thought -that he could safely trust to three guaranties: the ambition of Madame -d'Etampes, the overweening conceit of the Connétable Anne de -Montmorency, and the king's chivalrous nature. - -We have seen how and for what reason the duchess chose to serve his -interests. With the constable it was a different matter. The great -stumbling-block in the way of statesmen of all lands and all periods is -the question of alliances. Politics, which, in this matter and many -others, is perforce conjectural only, is often mistaken, alas! like the -science of medicine, in studying the symptoms of affinities between -peoples, and in risking remedies for their animosities. Now the -constable was a monomaniac on the subject of the Spanish alliance. He -had got it into his head that France's salvation lay in that direction, -and provided that he could satisfy Charles V., who had been at war with -his master twenty years out of twenty-five, he cared but little how much -he displeased his other allies, the Turks and the Protestants, or let -slip the most magnificent opportunities, like that which gave Flanders -to François I. - -The king had blind confidence in Montmorency. In truth the constable had -in the last war against the Emperor displayed a hitherto unheard of -resolution, and had checked the enemy's advance. To be sure he did it at -the cost of the ruin of a province, by laying the country waste before -him, by devastating a tenth part of France. But what especially -impressed the king was his minister's haughty roughness of manner, his -inflexible obstinacy, which to a superficial mind might seem cleverness -and unswerving firmness of resolution. The result was that François -listened to the "great suborner of men," as Brantôme calls him, with a -deference equal to the fear inspired in his inferiors by this terrible -reciter of _paternosters_, who alternated his prayers with hangings. - -Charles V. could therefore safely rely upon the persevering friendship -of the constable. - -He placed even more reliance upon his rival's generosity. Indeed, -François I. carried magnanimity to an absurd point. - -"My kingdom," he said, "has no toll-house, like a bridge, and I do not -sell my hospitality." The astute Charles knew that he could trust the -word of the "knightly king." - -Nevertheless, when the Emperor was fairly' upon French territory, he -could not overcome his apprehension and his doubts. He found the king's -two sons awaiting him at the frontier, and throughout his journey they -overwhelmed him with attentions and honors. But the crafty monarch -shuddered as he thought that all this appearance of cordiality might -conceal some deep-laid snare. - -"I must say that I sleep very ill," he said, "in a foreign country." - -He brought an anxious preoccupied face to the fêtes which were given -him, and, as he advanced farther and farther toward the heart of the -country, he became more and more sad and gloomy. - -Whenever he rode into a city, he would ask himself, amid all the -haranguing, as he passed beneath the triumphal arches, if that was the -city where he was to be imprisoned; then he would murmur beneath his -breath, "Not this or any other city, but all France, is my dungeon; all -these assiduous courtiers are my jailers." And each hour as it passed -added something to the apprehension of this tiger, who believed himself -to be in a cage, and saw bars on all sides. - -One day, as they were riding along, Charles d'Orléans, a fascinating, -frolicsome child,--who was in great haste to be amiable and gallant, as -a son of France, before dying of the plague like any peasant,--leaped -lightly to the saddle behind the Emperor and threw his arms about his -waist, crying gleefully, "Now you are my prisoner!" Charles became pale -as death, and nearly fainted. - -At Châtellerault, the poor imaginary captive was met by François, who -welcomed him fraternally, and on the following day presented the whole -court to him,--the valorous, magnificent nobility, the glory of the -country, and the artists and men of letters, the glory of the king. The -fêtes and merry-makings began in good earnest. The Emperor wore a brave -face everywhere, but in his heart he was afraid, and constantly -reproached himself for his imprudence. From time to time, as if to test -his liberty, he would go out at daybreak from the château where he had -lain at night, and he was delighted to see that his movements were not -interfered with outside of the honors paid him. But could he be sure -that he was not watched from a distance? Sometimes, as if from mere -caprice, he changed the itinerary arranged for his journey, to the -despair of François I., because part of the ceremonial prescribed by -him went for naught as a consequence. - -When he was within two day's ride of Paris he remembered with terror the -French king's sojourn at Madrid. For an emperor the capital would seem -to be the most honorable place of detention, and at the same time the -surest. He therefore begged the king to escort him at once to -Fontainebleau, of which he had heard so much. This overturned all of -François's plans, but he was too hospitable to allow his disappointment -to appear, and at once sent word to the queen and all the ladies to -repair to Fontainebleau. - -The presence of his sister Eleanora, and her confidence in her husband's -good faith, allayed the Emperor's anxiety to some extent. But, although -reassured for the moment, Charles V. was never able to feel at his ease -while he was within the dominions of the King of France. François was -the mirror of the past, Charles the type of the future. The sovereign of -modern times never rightly understood the hero of the Middle Ages; it -was impossible that there should be any real sympathy between the last -of the chevaliers and the first of the diplomatists. - -It is true Louis XI. might, strictly speaking, lay claim to this latter -title, but in our opinion Louis XI. was not so much the scheming -diplomatist as the grasping miser. - -On the day of the Emperor's arrival there was a hunting party in the -forest of Fontainebleau. Hunting was a favorite pastime of François I. -It was not much better than a terrible bore to Charles V. Nevertheless -he seized with avidity this further opportunity to see if he was not a -prisoner; he let the hunt pass, took a by-road, and rode about at random -until he was lost. But when he found that he was entirely alone in the -middle of the forest, as free as the air that blew through the branches, -or as the birds that flew through the air, he was almost wholly -reassured, and began to recover his good humor in some measure. And yet -the anxious expression returned to his faee when, upon his making his -appearance at the rendezvous, François came to him, flushed with the -excitement of the chase, and still holding in his hand the bleeding -boar-spear. The warrior of Marignano and Pavia was much in evidence in -the king's pleasures. - -"Come, my dear brother, let us enjoy ourselves!" said François, passing -his arm through Charles's in a friendly way, when they had both alighted -at the palace gate, and, leading him to the Galerie de Diane, -resplendent with the paintings of Rosso and Primaticcio. "Vrai Dieu! you -are as thoughtful as I was at Madrid. But you will agree, my dear -brother, that I had some reason for being so, for I was your prisoner, -while you are my guest; you are free, you are on the eve of a triumph. -Rejoice therefore with us, if not because of the fêtes, which are -doubtless beneath the notice of a great politician like yourself, at -least in the thought that you are on your way to humble all those -beer-drinking Flemings, who presume to talk of renewing the Communes. -Or, better still, forget the rebels, and think only of enjoying yourself -with friends. Does not my court impress you pleasantly?" - -"It is superb, my brother," said Charles, "and I envy you. I too have a -court--you have seen it--but a stern, joyless court, a gloomy assemblage -of statesmen and generals like Lannoy, Peschiara, and Antonio de Leyra. -But you have, beside your warriors and statesmen, beside your -Montmorencys and Dubellays, beside your scholars, beside Budée, -Duchâtel, and Lascaris,--beside all these you have your poets and your -artists, Marot, Jean Goujon, Primaticcio, Benvenuto; and, above all, -your adorable women,--Marguerite de Navarre, Diane de Poitiers, -Catherine de Medicis, and so many others; and verily I begin to believe, -my dear brother, that I would willingly exchange my gold mines for your -flower-strewn fields." - -"Ah! but you have not yet seen the fairest of all these lovely flowers," -said François naïvely to Eleanora's brother. - -"No, and I am dying with longing to see that marvellous pearl of -loveliness," said the Emperor, who understood that the king alluded to -Madame d'Etampes; "but even now I think that it is well said that yours -is the fairest realm on earth, my brother." - -"But you have the fairest countship, Flanders; the fairest duchy, -Milan." - -"You refused the first last month," said the Emperor, smiling, "and I -thank you for so doing; but you covet the other, do you not?" he added -with a sigh. - -"Ah! let us not talk of serious matters to-day, my cousin, I beg you," -said François; "after the pleasures of war there is nothing, I confess, -which I like less to disturb than the pleasures of a festal occasion -like the present." - -"It is the truth," rejoined Charles, with the grimace of a miser, who -realizes that he must pay a debt, "it is the truth that the Milanese is -very dear to my heart, and that it would be like tearing my heart out to -give it to you." - -"Say rather to return it to me, my brother; that word would be more -accurate, and would perhaps soften your disappointment. But that is not -the matter in hand now; we must enjoy ourselves. We will talk of the -Milanese later." - -"Gift or restitution, given or returned," said the Emperor, "you will -none the less possess one of the finest lordships in the world; for you -shall have it, my brother; it is decided, and I will keep my engagements -with you as faithfully as you keep yours with me." - -"Mon Dieu!" cried François, beginning to be vexed at this everlasting -recurrence to serious matters; "what do you regret, my brother? Are you -not King of the Spains, Emperor of Germany, Count of Flanders, and lord, -either by influence or by right of your sword, of all Italy, from the -foot of the Alps to the farthest point of Calabria?" - -"But you have France!" rejoined Charles with a sigh. - -"You have the Indies and their golden treasures; you have Peru and the -mines!" - -"But you have France!" - -"You reign over an empire so vast that the sun never sets upon it." - -"But you have France! What would your Majesty say, if I should cast an -eye on this diamond among kingdoms, as fondly and gloatingly as you gaze -upon that pearl of duchies, Milan?" - -"Look, you, my brother," said François gravely, "I have instincts -rather than ideas upon these momentous questions; but, as they say in -your country, 'Do not touch the queen!' so I say to you, 'Do not touch -France!'" - -"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Charles; "are we not cousins and allies?" - -"Most certainly," was François's reply, "and I most earnestly hope that -nothing will happen henceforth to embitter our relationship or disturb -our alliance." - -"I too hope so," said the Emperor. "But," he continued, with his cunning -smile and hypocritical expression, "can I answer for the future, and -prevent my son Philip, for instance, from falling out with your son -Henri?" - -"Such a quarrel would not be dangerous for France, if Augustus is -succeeded by Tiberius." - -"What matter who the master is?" said Charles, waxing warm; "the Empire -will still be the Empire, and the Rome of the Cæsars was still Rome -when the Cæsars had ceased to be Cæsars in everything save name." - -"True, but the Empire of Charles V. is not the Empire of Octavius, my -brother," said François, a little piqued. "Pavia was a glorious battle, -but it was no Actium; then, too, Octavius was very wealthy, while, -notwithstanding your Indian treasures and your Peruvian mines, you are -well known to be in straitened circumstances financially; your unpaid -troops were driven to sack Rome to procure means of subsistence, and now -that Rome is sacked they are in revolt." - -"And you, my brother," said Charles, "have alienated the royal domains, -as I am informed, and are driven to treat Luther very tenderly, so that -the German princes may consent to loan you money." - -"Not to mention the fact," retorted François, "that your Cortes is very -far from being so manageable as the Senate, while I can boast that I -have freed the Kings of France from their dependence forever." - -"Beware that your parliaments don't put you back into leading-strings -some fine day." - -The discussion was growing warm, both monarchs were getting excited, and -the long standing antipathy which had kept them apart so long, was -beginning to glow afresh. François was on the point of forgetting the -duties of hospitality, and Charles the dictates of prudence, when the -former suddenly remembered that he was beneath his own roof. - -"On my word, my good brother," he exclaimed abruptly, laughing aloud, "I -believe, by Mahomet's belly! that we were near losing our tempers. I -told you that we must not talk of serious matters, but must leave such -discussions to our ministers, and keep for ourselves only our good -friendship. Come, let us agree, once for all, that you are to have the -world, less France, and drop the subject." - -"And less the Milanese, my brother," said Charles, realizing the -imprudence he had been guilty of, and seeking at once to avoid its -effects, "for the Milanese is yours. I have promised it to you, and I -renew my promise." - -As they exchanged these mutual assurances of continuing good will, the -door of the gallery opened, and Madame d'Etampes appeared. The king -walked quickly to meet her, took her hand, and led her to where the -Emperor stood, who, seeing her then for the first time, and, being fully -informed as to what had taken place between her and Monsieur de Medina, -fixed his most penetrating gaze upon her as she approached. - -"My brother," said the king smiling, "do you see this fair dame?" - -"Not only do I see her," replied Charles, "but I admire her." - -"Very well! you do not know what she wants?" - -"Is it one of my Spains? I will give it her." - -"No, no, brother, not that." - -"What then?" - -"She wants me to detain you at Paris until you have destroyed the treaty -of Madrid, and confirmed by acts the promise you have given me." - -"If the advice is good, you should follow it," rejoined the Emperor, -bowing low before the duchess, as much to hide the sudden pallor which -these words caused to overspread his face, as to perform an act of -courtesy. - -He had no time to say more, nor could François see the effect produced -by the words he had laughingly let fall, and which Charles was quite -ready to take seriously, for the door opened again and the whole court -poured into the gallery. - -During the half-hour preceding dinner, when this clever, cultivated, -corrupt throng was assembled in the salons of the palace, the scene we -described apropos of the reception at the Louvre was re-enacted in all -its essential details. There were the same men and the same women, the -same courtiers and the same valets. Loving and malevolent glances were -exchanged as usual, and sarcastic remarks and gallant speeches were -indulged in with the customary freedom. - -Charles V., spying Anne de Montmorency, whom he with good reason deemed -to be his surest ally, went to him, and talked in a corner with him and -the Duke of Medina, his ambassador. - -"I will sign whatever you choose, constable," said the Emperor, who knew -the old campaigner's loyalty; "prepare a deed of cession of the Duchy of -Milan, and by Saint James, though it be one of the brightest jewels of -my crown, I will sign an absolute surrender of it to you." - -"A deed!" cried the constable, hotly putting aside the suggestion of a -precaution which implied distrust. "A deed, Sire! what is your Majesty's -meaning? No deed, Sire, no deed; your word, nothing more. Does your -Majesty think that we shall have less confidence in you than you had in -us, when you came to France with no written document to rely upon?" - -"You will do as you should do, Monsieur de Montmorency," rejoined the -Emperor, giving him his hand, "you will do what you should do." - -The constable walked away. - -"Poor dupe!" exclaimed the Emperor; "he plays at politics, Medina, as -moles dig their holes, blindly." - -"But the king, Sire?" queried Medina. - -"The king is too proud of his own grandeur of soul not to be sure of -ours. He will foolishly let us go, Medina, and we will prudently let him -wait. To make him wait, my lord, is not to break my promise, but to -postpone its fulfilment, that is all." - -"But Madame d'Etampes?" suggested Medina. - -"As to her we shall see," said the Emperor, moving up and down a -magnificent ring with a superb diamond, which he wore on his left thumb. -"Ah! I must have a long interview with her." - -While these words were rapidly exchanged in low tones between the -Emperor and his minister, the duchess was mercilessly making sport of -Marmagne, apropos of his nocturnal exploits, all in presence of Messire -d'Estourville. - -"Can it be of your people, Monsieur de Marmagne," she was saying, "that -Benvenuto tells every comer this extraordinary story? Attacked by four -bandits, and with but one arm free to defend himself, he simply made -these gentry escort him home. Were you one of these gentlemanly bravos, -viscount?" - -"Madame," replied poor Marmagne, in confusion, "it did not take place -precisely in that way, and Benvenuto tells the story too favorably for -himself." - -"Yes, yes, I doubt not that he embroiders it a little, and adds a few -details by way of ornament, but the main fact is true, viscount, the -main fact is true; and in such matters the main fact is everything." - -"Madame," returned Marmagne, "I promise you that I will have my revenge, -and I shall be more fortunate next time." - -"Pardon, viscount, pardon! it's not a question of revenge, but of -beginning another game. Cellini, I should say, has won the first two -bouts." - -"Yes, thanks to my absence," muttered Marmagne, with increasing -embarrassment; "because my men took advantage of my not being there to -run away, the miserable villains!" - -"Oh!" said the provost, "I advise you, Marmagne, to admit that you are -beaten in that direction; you have no luck with Cellini." - -"In that case it seems to me that we may console each other, my dear -provost," retorted Marmagne, "for if we add known facts to the -mysterious rumors which are in circulation,--the capture of the -Grand-Nesle to the reported disappearance of one of its fair -inmates,--Cellini would seem not to have brought you luck either, -Messire d'Estourville. To be sure, he is said to be actively interested -in the fortunes of your family, if not in your own, my dear provost." - -"Monsieur de Marmagne," cried the provost fiercely, in a furious rage to -learn that his paternal infelicity was beginning to be noised -abroad,--"Monsieur de Marmagne, you will explain to me later what you -mean by your words." - -"Ah messieurs, messieurs!" exclaimed the duchess, "do not forget, I beg -you, that I am here. You are both in the wrong. Monsieur le Prévôt, it -is not for those who know so little about seeking to ridicule those who -know so little about finding. Monsieur de Marmagne, in the hour of -defeat we must unite against the common enemy, and not afford him the -additional satisfaction of seeing the vanquished slashing at one -another's throats. They are going to the _salle-à-manger_; your hand, -Monsieur de Marmagne. Ah, well! since it seems that men, for all their -strength, avail nothing against Cellini, we will see if a woman's wiles -will find him equally invincible. I have always thought that allies were -simply in the way, and have always loved to make war alone. The risk is -greater, I know, but at least the honors of victory are not to be shared -with any one." - -"The impertinent varlet!" exclaimed Marmagne; "see how familiarly he is -talking to our great king. Would not one say he was nobly born, whereas -he is naught but a mere stone-cutter." - -"What's that you say, viscount? Why, he is a nobleman, and of the most -venerable nobility!" said the duchess, with a laugh. "Do you know of -many among our oldest families who descend from a lieutenant of Julius -Cæsar, and who have the three _fleurs-de-lis_ and the _lambel_ of the -house of Anjou in their crest? 'T is not the king who honors the -sculptor by speaking to him, messieurs, as you see; the sculptor, on the -other hand, confers honor upon the king by condescending to address -him." - -"François I. and Cellini were in fact conversing at that moment with -the familiarity to which the great ones of earth had accustomed the -chosen artist of Heaven. - -"Well, Benvenuto," the king was saying, "how do we come on with our -Jupiter?" - -"I am preparing to cast it, Sire." - -"And when will that great work be performed?" - -"Immediately upon my return to Paris, Sire." - -"Take our best foundrymen, Cellini, and omit nothing to make the -operation successful. If you need money, you know that I am ready." - -"I know that you are the greatest, the noblest, and the most generous -king on earth, Sire," replied Benvenuto; "but thanks to the salary which -your Majesty orders paid to me, I am rich. As to the operation -concerning which you are somewhat anxious, Sire, I will, with your -gracious permission, rely upon my own resources to prepare and execute -it. I distrust all your French foundrymen, not that they are unskilful, -but because I am afraid that their national pride will make them -disinclined to place their skill at the service of an artist from beyond -the Alps. And I confess, Sire, that I attach too much importance to the -success of my Jupiter to allow any other than myself to lay hand to it." - -"Bravo, Cellini, bravo!" cried the king; "spoken like a true artist." - -"Moreover," added Benvenuto, "I wish to be entitled to remind your -Majesty of the promise you made me." - -"That is right, my trusty friend. If we are content with it, we are to -grant you a boon. We have not forgotten. Indeed, if we should forget, we -bound ourselves in the presence of witnesses. Is it not so, Montmorency? -and Poyet? Our constable and our chancellor will remind us of our -plighted word." - -"Ah! your Majesty cannot conceive how precious that word has become to -me since the day it was given." - -"Very well! it shall be kept, Monsieur. But the doors are open. To -table, messieurs, to table!" - -François thereupon joined the Emperor, and the two together walked at -the head of the procession formed by the illustrious guests. Both wings -of the folding doors being thrown open, the two sovereigns entered side -by side and took places facing each other, Charles between Eleanora and -Madame d'Etampes, François between Catherine de Medicis and Marguerite -de Navarre. - -The banquet was exquisite and the guests in the best of spirits. -François was in his element, and enjoyed himself in kingly fashion, but -laughed like a serf at all the tales told him by Marguerite de Navarre. -Charles overwhelmed Madame d'Etampes with compliments and attentions. -The others talked of art and politics, and so the time passed. - - -[Illustration 06] - - -At dessert, as was customary, the pages brought water for the guests to -wash their hands. Thereupon Madame d'Etampes took the ewer and basin -intended for Charles V. from the hands of the servitor, while Marguerite -did the same for François, poured water from the ewer into the basin, -and, kneeling upon one knee, according to the Spanish etiquette, -presented the basin to the Emperor. He dipped the ends of his fingers, -gazing at his noble and beautiful attendant the while, and laughingly -dropped the superb ring, of which we have spoken, into the water. - -"Your Majesty is losing your ring," said Anne, dipping her own taper -fingers into the water, and daintily picking up the jewel, which she -handed to the Emperor. - -"Keep the ring, madame," the Emperor replied, in a low voice; "the hands -in which it now is are too noble and too beautiful for me to take it -from them again. It is to bind the bargain for the Duchy of Milan," he -added, in a still lower tone. - -The duchess smiled and said no more. The pebble had fallen at her feet, -but the pebble was worth a million. - -As they returned from the _salle-à-manger_ to the salon, and passed -thence to the ball-room, Madame d'Etampes stopped Benvenuto, who was -brought near to her by the press. - -"Messire Cellini," said she, handing him the ring which constituted a -pledge of the alliance between the Emperor and herself, "here is a -diamond which you will hand, if you please, to your pupil Ascanio, for -the crown of my lily; it is the dew drop I promised him." - -"And it has fallen from Aurora's fingers in very truth, madame," -rejoined the artist with a mocking smile and affected gallantry. - -He glanced at the ring, and started back in surprise, for he recognized -the diamond he had long ago set for Pope Clement VII. and had himself -carried to the sublime Emperor on the sovereign Pontiff's behalf. - -To induce Charles V. to divest himself of such a priceless jewel, -especially in favor of a woman, there must necessarily be some secret -understanding, some occult treaty, between himself and the recipient. - -While Charles continues to pass his days and nights at Fontainebleau, in -the alternations of distrust and confidence, we have endeavored to -describe, while he schemes, intrigues, burrows underground, promises, -retracts, and promises anew, let us cast a glance upon the Grand-Nesle, -and see if anything of interest is occurring among those of its -occupants who have remained there. - - - - -VII - - -THE GHOSTLY MONK - - -The whole colony was in a state of intense excitement. The ghost of the -monk, the unsubstantial guest of the convent, upon the ruins of which -Amaury's palace was built, had returned within three or four days. Dame -Perrine had seen him walking around at night in the gardens of the -Grand-Nesle, clad in his long white frock, and treading so lightly that -he left no footprints on the ground, and made no noise. - -How happened it that Dame Perrine, whose domicile was the Petit-Nesle, -had seen the ghostly visitor walking in the garden of the Grand-Nesle at -three o'clock in the morning? We cannot tell except by committing a very -grave indiscretion, but we are historians first of all, and our readers -are entitled to know the most secret details of the lives of the -characters we have brought upon the stage, especially when those details -are calculated to throw a bright light upon the sequel of our narrative. - -Dame Perrine, by virtue of Colombe's disappearance, by the retirement of -Pulchérie, for whose presence there was no further pretext, and by the -departure of the provost, was left absolute mistress of the Petit-Nesle; -for the gardener Raimbault and his assistants were, for economical -reasons, engaged in Messire d'Estourville's service during the day only. -Dame Perrine found herself, therefore, queen of the Petit-Nesle, but at -the same time a solitary queen, so that she nearly died of ennui during -the day, and of fear at night. - -It occurred to her that there was a remedy for this unfortunate -condition of affairs, during the day at least; her friendly relations -with Dame Ruperta opened the doors of the Grand-Nesle to her. She asked -permission to visit her neighbors, and it was most cordially granted. - -But upon availing herself of this permission Dame Perrine was naturally -brought in contact with her neighbors of the other sex. Dame Perrine was -a buxom creature of thirty-six years, who confessed to twenty-nine of -them. Plump and rosy still, and always prepossessing, her coming was -quite an event in the studio, where ten or twelve worthy fellows were -forging, cutting, filing, hammering, chiselling,--good livers all, fond -of play on Sundays, of wine on Sundays and holidays, and of the fair sex -all the time. Three of our old acquaintances, after three or four days -had passed, were all brought down with the same arrow. - -They were little Jehan, Simon-le-Gaucher, and Hermann the German. - -Ascanio, Jacques Aubry, and Pagolo escaped the charm, having their minds -on other things. - -The other comrades may well have felt some sparks of this Greek fire, -but they realized their inferior position, no doubt, and poured the -water of their humility upon the first sparks before they became a -conflagration. - -Little Jehan loved after the manner of Cherubino, that is to say, he was -in love with loving. Dame Perrine, as the reader will readily -understand, had too much common sense to respond to such an _ignis -fatuus_ as that. - -Simon-le-Gaucher could offer more reliable future prospects, and his -flame promised to be more enduring, but Dame Perrine was a very -superstitious person. She had seen Simon cross himself with his left -hand, and she reflected that it would be necessary for him to sign the -marriage contract with his left hand. Dame Perrine was convinced that -the sign of the cross executed with the left hand was calculated to -destroy rather than to save a soul, and in like manner no one could have -persuaded her that a marriage contract signed with the left hand could -have any other result than an unhappy menage. She therefore, but without -disclosing the reasons for her repugnance, received Simon-le-Gaucher's -first advances in a way to make him renounce all hope. - -Hermann remained. Ah, Hermann! that was a different matter. - -Hermann Was no coxcomb, like little Jehan, nor a man with the seal of -Nature's displeasure upon him, like left-handed Simon; in Hermann's -personality there was something honest and outspoken which appealed to -Dame Perrine's heart. Moreover, Hermann, instead of having a left hand -for the right and vice versa, made use of either or both so -energetically that he seemed to have two right hands. He was a -magnificent man too, according to all vulgar ideas. Dame Perrine -therefore had fixed her choice upon Hermann. - -But, as we know, Hermann was as innocent as Celadon. The result was that -Dame Perrine's first broadsides, the pouting and sighs and sidelong -glances, were utterly powerless against the naïve timidity of the -honest German. He contented himself with staring at Dame Perrine out of -his great round eyes; but, like the blind men of the Gospel, "eyes had -he, but he saw not," or if he did see, he saw the buxom governess as a -whole simply, without noting details. Dame Perrine repeatedly proposed -that they should go for a walk on the Quai des Augustins, or in the -gardens of the Grand--or Petit-Nesle, and on every occasion she selected -Hermann for her cavalier. This made Hermann very happy internally. His -great Teutonic heart beat five or six extra pulsations a minute when -Dame Perrine was hanging upon his arm; but either because he found some -difficulty in pronouncing the French language, or because it gave him -greater pleasure to hear the object of his secret thoughts talk, Dame -Perrine could rarely extract anything more from him than these two -sacramental phrases, "Ponchour, matemoizelle," and "Atieu, -matemoizelle," which Hermann generally pronounced at an interval of two -hours; the first when Dame Perrine took his arm, the second when she let -it go. Now, although this title of Mademoiselle was immensely flattering -to Dame Perrine, and although there was something very agreeable in -talking two hours without fear of interruption, she would have been glad -to have her monologue broken in upon by an occasional interjection which -might give her some idea of the progress she was making in the heart of -her mute attendant. - -Her progress, however, was none the less real for not being expressed in -words or by play of feature; the fire was kindled in the honest German's -heart, and, being fanned every day by Dame Perrine's presence, became a -veritable volcano. Hermann began at last to be conscious of the -preference Dame Perrine accorded him, and he was only waiting until he -was a little more certain of it to declare himself. Dame Perrine -understood his hesitation. One evening, as he parted from her at the -door of the Petit-Nesle, she saw that he was so agitated that she -thought it would be a real kindness on her part to press his hand. -Hermann, transported with delight, responded by a similar demonstration; -but to his great amazement Dame Perrine gave a piercing shriek. In his -delirious bliss, Hermann did not measure his pressure. He thought that -the tighter he squeezed her hand, the more accurate idea he would convey -of the violence of his passion; and he very nearly crushed the poor -governess's fingers. - -Hermann was thunderstruck by her shriek; but Dame Perrine, fearing to -discourage him just as he had summoned up courage to make his first -advance, forced herself to smile, and said, as she separated her -fingers, which were almost glued together for the moment:-- - -"It's nothing, nothing, dear Monsieur Hermann; it's nothing, absolutely -nothing." - -"Tausend pardons, Matemoizelle Perrine," said the German, "but I lofe -you sehr viel, and I haf pressed your hant as I lofe you! Tausend -pardons!" - -"There's no need, Monsieur Hermann, there's no need. Your love is an -honorable love, I trust, which a woman need not blush to win." - -"O Tieu! O Tieu!" cried Hermann, "indeed, my lofe is honorable, -Matemoizelle Perrine; put I haf not yet tared to speak to you of it; put -since die wort haf escaped me, I lofe you, I lofe you, I lofe you sehr -viel, Matemoizelle Perrine." - -"And I, Monsieur Hermann," said Dame Perrine mincingly, "think I can -say, for I believe you to be a gallant youth, incapable of compromising -a poor woman, that--Mon Dieu! how shall I say it?" - -"Oh say it! say it!" cried Hermann. - -"Well! that--ah, it is wrong of me to confess it!" - -"Nein, nein! it is not wrong. Say it! say it!" - -"Very well. I confess that I am not indifferent to your passion." - -"Sacrement!" cried the German, beside himself with joy. - -Now one evening when, after a promenade, the Juliet of the Petit-Nesle -had escorted her Romeo to the door of the Grand-Nesle, she espied as she -was returning alone through the garden door, the white spectre we have -mentioned, which, in the opinion of the worthy governess, could be no -other than that of the monk. It is needless to say that Dame Perrine -entered the house half dead with fear, and barricaded herself in her -room. - -The next morning the whole studio was acquainted with the story of the -nocturnal apparition. Dame Perrine, however, contented herself with -relating the simple fact without going into details. The ghostly monk -had appeared. That was the whole of it. It was useless to question her, -for she would say nothing more. - -All that day the ghostly monk was the engrossing subject of conversation -at the Grand-Nesle. Some believed in the appearance of the phantom, -others laughed at it. It was noticed that Ascanio was the leader of the -sceptics, the others being little Jehan, Simon-le-Gaucher, and Jacques -Aubry. The faction of the believers included Dame Ruperta, Scozzone, -Pagolo, and Hermann. - -In the evening they all assembled in the second courtyard of the -Petit-Nesle. Dame Perrine, when questioned in the morning as to the -origin of the legend of the ghostly monk, requested that she might have -the day to refresh her memory, and when night came she announced that -she was ready to relate the awful story. Dame Perrine was as knowing in -the matter of stage effects as a modern dramatist, and she knew that a -ghost story loses all its effect if told in the sunlight, while, on the -other hand, that effect is doubled if it is told in the dark. - -Her audience consisted of Hermann, who sat at her right, Dame Ruperta, -who sat at her left, Pagolo and Scozzone, who sat side by side, and -Jacques Aubry, who lay on the grass between his two friends, little -Jehan and Simon-le-Gaucher. Ascanio had declared that he held such old -women's tales in utter contempt, and would not even listen to them. - -"Unt zo, Matemoizelle Perrine," said Hermann after a moment of silence, -while each one arranged his posture so as to listen at ease, "unt zo you -are going to tell us the story of the monk's ghost?" - -"Yes," said Dame Perrine, "yes; but I ought to warn you that it's a -terrible story, and perhaps not a very comfortable one to listen to at -this hour; but as we are all devout persons, although there may be some -sceptics among us on the subject of ghosts, and as Monsieur Hermann is -strong enough to put Satan himself to flight if he should make his -appearance, I will venture to tell you the story." - -"Pardon, pardon, Matemoizelle Perrine, put if Satan comes I must tell -you not to count on me; I will fight mit men, ja, all you choose, put -not mit der Teufel." - -"Never mind! I will fight him if he comes, Dame Perrine," said Jacques -Aubry. "Go on, and don't be afraid." - -"Is there a charcoal-purner in your story, Matemoizelle Perrine?" -queried Hermann. - -"A charcoal-burner? No, Monsieur Hermann." - -"All right; it's all the same." - -"Why a charcoal-burner?" - -"Because in all the Cherman stories there is a charcoal-purner. Put -never mind, it must be a fine story all the same. Go on, Matemoizelle -Perrine." - -"You must know, then," began Dame Perrine, "that there was formerly on -this spot where we now sit, and before the Hôtel de Nesle was built, a -community of monks, composed of the handsomest men ever seen, the -shortest of whom was as tall as Monsieur Hermann." - -"Peste! what a community that must have been!" cried Jacques Aubry. - -"Be quiet, babbler!" said Scozzone. - -"Yes, be quiet, pappler!" echoed Hermann. - -"I'll be quiet, I'll be quiet," said the student; "go on, Dame Perrine." - -"The prior, whose name was Enguerrand, was a particularly fine specimen. -They all had glossy black beards, with black and gleaming eyes; but the -prior had the blackest beard and the brightest eyes of all. Moreover the -worthy brethren were devout and austere in their devotion to an -unparalleled degree, and their voices were so melodious and sweet that -people came from leagues around simply to hear them sing the vesper -service. At least so I have been told." - -"Oh the poor monks!" said Ruperta. - -"It's extremely interesting," said Jacques Aubry. - -"Es ist sehr wunderbar," said Hermann. - -"One day," pursued Dame Perrine, flattered by the marks of appreciation -evoked by her narrative, "a handsome young man was brought before the -prior, who requested to be admitted to the convent as a novice; he had -no beard as yet, but he had large eyes as black as ebony, and long dark -hair with a glossy shimmer like jet, so that he was admitted without -hesitation. He said that his name was Antonio, and requested to be -attached to the personal service of the prior, a request which was -granted without hesitation. I spoke of voices just now, but Antonio's -was the fresh and melodious voice _par excellence_. Everybody who heard -him sing on the following Sunday was carried away by it, and yet there -was a something in the voice which distressed even while it fascinated -you, a quality which aroused worldly rather than celestial ideas in the -hearts of those who listened to it; but all the monks were so pure of -heart that none but strangers experienced this singular emotion, and Don -Enguerrand, who was utterly unconscious of anything of the sort, was so -enchanted with Antonio's voice that he appointed him thenceforth to sing -the responses in the anthems alone, alternately with the organ. - -"The conduct of the young novice was most exemplary, and he waited upon -the prior with incredible zeal and earnestness. The only thing for which -he could possibly be reproved was his constant fits of distraction from -his devotions; always and everywhere his glowing eyes were fastened upon -the prior. - -"'What are you looking at, Antonio?' Don Enguerrand would say to him. - -"'I am looking at you, my father,' would be the reply. - -"'Look at your prayer-book, Antonio. Now what are you looking at?' - -"'You, my father.' - -"'Antonio, look at the image of the Virgin. What are you looking at -now?' - -"'You, my father.' - -"'Antonio, look at the crucifix which we adore.' - -"Don Enguerrand began to notice, after a time, upon searching his -conscience, that since Antonio's reception into the community he had -been more troubled than formerly by evil thoughts. Never before had he -sinned more than seven times a day, which, as we all know, is the -reckoning of the saints,--sometimes even he had examined his conduct for -the day without being able to find more than five or six sins, an -extraordinary thing. But now the total of his daily peccadillos mounted -as high as ten, twelve, or even fifteen. He would try to make up for it -on the following day; he would pray and fast and scourge himself, would -the worthy man. Ah! but the farther he went, the greater became the -reckoning, until at last it reached a full score. Poor Don Enguerrand -knew not which way to turn; he felt that he was damned in spite of all -he could do, and he noticed--an observation which might have comforted -another, but which increased his consternation--that his most austere -monks were under the same strange, incredible, incomprehensible -influence; so that their confession, which formerly lasted twenty -minutes, half an hour, or an hour at most, now occupied several hours. - -"About this time, an occurrence which had been creating a great stir in -the province for a month past at last became known at the convent. The -lord of a castle near by had lost his daughter Antonia. Antonia had -disappeared one fine evening exactly as my poor Colombe has disappeared. -But there is this difference: I am sure that Colombe is an angel, while -it seems that Antonia was possessed of the devil. The poor father had -sought the fugitive high and low, just as Monsieur le Prévôt has -sought Colombe. Only the convent remained to be visited, and as he knew -that the evil spirit, the better to elude search, sometimes conceals -himself in monasteries, he sent his chaplain to Don Enguerrand to ask -permission to make search in his. The prior assented, with the best -possible grace. Perhaps, he thought, he might by means of this visit -discover something concerning the magic influence which had been -weighing upon him and his brethren for a month past. But no! the search -had no result whatever, and the nobleman was about to retire more -despairing than ever, when all the monks passed in procession before him -and Don Enguerrand, on their way to the chapel for the evening service. -He looked at them mechanically, one after another, until the last one -passed, when he cried out:-- - -"'God in heaven! that is Antonia! that is my daughter!' - -"Antonia, for it was she, became as pale as a lily. - -"'What are you doing in this sacred garb?' continued the father. - -"'What am I doing, father?' said Antonia; 'I am loving Don Enguerrand -with all my heart.' - -"'Leave this convent instantly, wretched girl!' cried her father. - -"'I will go out only as a corpse, father,' replied Antonia. - -"Thereupon, despite her father's outcries, she darted into the chapel on -the heels of the monks, and took her place in her accustomed stall. The -prior stood as if turned to stone. The furious nobleman would have -pursued his daughter, but Don Enguerrand begged him not to profane the -holy place by such a scandalous scene, and to wait until the service was -at an end. The father consented, and followed Don Enguerrand into the -chapel. - -"The anthem was about to be chanted, and the majestic prelude upon the -organ was like the voice of God. A wonderfully beautiful strain, but -instinct with bitter irony, and awful to bear, responded to the sublime -tones of the instrument; it was Antonia's voice, and every listening -heart shuddered. The organ took up the chant, calm, grave, impressive, -and seemed as if it were seeking to drown with its divine magnificence -the bitter strains which insulted it from the stalls. Again, as if in -acceptance of the challenge, Antonia's voice arose more wildly -despairing, more impious, than before. Everybody awaited in speechless -dismay the result of this awful dialogue, this alternation of blasphemy -and prayer, this strange conflict between God and Satan, and it was amid -the most intense and agonizing silence that the celestial music burst -forth like a peal of thunder, when the blasphemous strain died away, and -poured out upon the heads of the listeners, all bowed save one, the -torrents of its wrath. It was something like the dread voice which the -guilty will hear on the judgment day. Antonia tried to keep up the -contest, but her song this time was nothing more than a shrill, -heart-rending cry, like the laugh fit the damned, and she fell pale and -stiff upon the pavement of the chapel. When they raised her, she was -dead." - -"Jésus Maria!" cried Dame Ruperta. - -"Poor Antonia!" said Hermann innocently. - -"Little fool!" muttered Jacques Aubry. - -The others kept silence, so great was the impression produced even upon -the sceptics by Dame Perrine's narrative, but Scozzone wiped away a -tear, and Pagolo crossed himself. - -"When the prior," resumed Dame Perrine, "saw the devil's messenger thus -crushed by the wrath of God, he believed, poor dear man, that he was -forever delivered from the snares of the tempter; but he reckoned -without his host, a very appropriate expression, as he had been so -imprudent as to extend his hospitality to one possessed of the devil. On -the following night, just after he had dropped off to sleep, he was -awakened by the clanking of chains; he opened his eyes, instinctively -turned them toward the door, and saw that it swung open unaided, and at -the same time a phantom clad in the white robe of a novice drew near the -bed, took him by the arm, and cried, 'I am Antonia! Antonia, who loves -thee! and God has given me full power over thee because thou hast -sinned, in thought if not in act.' And every night at midnight the -terrible apparition returned, implacably true to its word, until at last -Don Enguerrand made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and died, by the -special favor of God, just as he knelt before the Holy Sepulchre. - -"But Antonia was not satisfied. She fell back upon all the monks in -general, and, as there were very few who had not sinned as deeply as the -poor prior, she visited them all one after another during the night, -roughly awaking them, and crying in an awe-inspiring voice: 'I am -Antonia! I am Antonia, who loves thee!' - -"Hence the name of the ghostly monk. - -"When you are walking through the streets at night, and a figure with a -gray or white hood dogs your steps, hasten home; it is the ghostly monk -in quest of prey. - -"When the convent was demolished to make room for the château, they -hoped to be rid of the spectre, but it seems that he is fond of the -spot. At various times he has reappeared. And now, God forgive us our -sins! the unhappy wretch has appeared again. May God preserve us from -his wicked designs!" - -"Amen!" said Dame Ruperta, crossing herself. - -"Amen!" said Hermann, with a shudder. - -"Amen!" said Jacques Aubry, laughing. - -And each of the others repeated the word with an inflection -corresponding to the impression produced upon him. - - - - -VIII - - -WHAT ONE SEES AT NIGHT FROM THE TOP OF A -POPLAR - - -On the following day, which was that on which the whole court was to -return from Fontainebleau, it was Dame Ruperta's turn to announce to the -same auditory that she had a momentous revelation to make. - -As may be imagined, after such an interesting announcement, the whole -party assembled once more in the same spot at the same hour. - -They were entirely at their ease, because Benvenuto had written to -Ascanio that he should stay behind for two or three days to prepare the -hall where his Jupiter was to be displayed, which Jupiter was to be cast -immediately upon his return. - -The provost had simply made his appearance at the Hôtel de Nesle to ask -if there was any news of Colombe; but upon being informed by Dame -Perrine that everything was _in statu quo_, he at once returned to the -Châtelet. - -The occupants of the Grand and Petit-Nesle enjoyed entire freedom of -action, therefore, both masters being absent. - -In the ease of Jacques Aubry, although he was to have met Gervaise that -evening, curiosity carried the day over love, or rather he hoped that -Dame Ruperta would be less diffuse than Dame Perrine, and that she would -have finished so early that he might hear her story and still keep his -appointment. - -This is what Ruperta had to tell. - -Dame Perrine's narrative ran in her head all night long, and from the -moment that she entered her bedroom she trembled in every limb lest -Antonia's spirit should pay her a visit, notwithstanding the blessed -relics which hung about her bed. - -She barricaded her door, but that was a very inadequate precaution; the -old servant was too well versed in the ways of phantoms not to be aware -that they know nothing of closed doors. Nevertheless she would have -liked also to barricade the window looking upon the garden of the -Grand-Nesle, but the original proprietor had neglected to provide the -window with shutters, and the present proprietor deemed it useless to -burden himself with that expense. - -Ordinarily there were curtains at the window; but at this time, as luck -would have it, they were at the laundry. The window offered no -protection, therefore, save an unpretentious pane of glass, as -transparent as the air that it excluded. - -On entering the room Ruperta looked under the bed, felt in all the -drawers and closets, and did not leave a single corner uninspected. She -knew that the devil occupies but little space when he draws in his tail -and claws and horns, and that Asmodeus was corked up in a bottle for -nobody knows how many years. - -The room was entirely untenanted, and there was not the slightest trace -of the ghostly monk. - -Ruperta went to bed therefore somewhat more at ease, but she left her -lamp burning none the less. She was no sooner in bed than she looked -toward the window, and saw outside the window a gigantic figure, whose -outlines were just discernible in the darkness, and which intercepted -the light of the stars. The moon was invisible as it was in its last -quarter. - -Good Ruperta shivered with fear; she was on the point of crying out or -knocking, when she remembered the colossal statue of Mars which reared -its head before her window. She immediately looked again in that -direction, and recognized perfectly all the outlines of the god of war. -This reassured Ruperta for the moment, and she determined positively to -go to sleep. - -But sleep, the poor man's treasure so often coveted by the rich, is at -no man's orders. At night God opens heaven's gates for him, and the -capricious rascal visits whom he pleases, turning aside disdainfully -from him who calls, and knocking at their doors who least expect him. -Ruperta invoked him long before he paid heed to her. - -At last, toward midnight, fatigue won the day. Little by little, the -good woman's faculties became confused, her thoughts which were in -general but ill connected, broke the imperceptible thread which held -them, and scattered like the beads of a rosary. Her heart alone, -distraught by fear, was still awake; at last it too fell fast asleep, -and all was said; the lamp alone kept vigil. - -But, like all things of earth, the lamp found rest two hours after -Ruperta had closed her eyes in the sleep of the just. Upon the pretext -that it had no oil to burn, it began to grow dim, sputtered, blazed up -for an instant, and then died. - -Just at that time Ruperta had a fearful dream; she dreamed that, as she -was returning home from visiting Perrine, the ghostly monk pursued her; -but happily, against all precedents of those who dream, Ruperta to her -joy found that she had the legs of fifteen years, and fled so swiftly -that the ghostly monk, although he seemed to glide and not to run over -the ground, only arrived in time to have the door slammed in his face. -Ruperta thought, still dreaming, that she heard him snarl and pound upon -the door. But, as may be imagined, she was in no haste to let him in. -She lit her lamp, ran up the stairs four at a time, jumped into bed, and -put out the light. - -But, just as she put out the light, she saw the monk's head outside her -window; he had crawled up the wall like a lizard, and was trying to come -through the glass. In her dream, she heard the grinding of his nails -against it. - -He sleep can be so sound as to hold out against a dream of that sort. -Ruperta awoke with her hair standing on end, and dripping with icy -perspiration. Her eyes were open, staring wildly around, and in spite of -her they sought the window. With that she uttered a fearful shriek, for -this is what she saw. - -She saw the head of the colossal Mars shooting forth flame from its eyes -and nose and mouth and ears. - -She thought at first that she was still asleep, and that it was a -continuation of her dream; but she pinched herself till the blood came -to make sure that she was really awake; she crossed herself, and -repeated mentally three _Paters_ and two _Aves_, and the extraordinary -phenomena did not disappear. - -Ruperta summoned strength enough to put out her hand, seize her broom, -and pound against the ceiling with the handle thereof. Hermann slept in -the room above hers, and she hoped that the sturdy Teuton would be -aroused and hurry to her assistance. But in vain did Ruperta knock: -Hermann gave no sign of life. - -Thereupon she changed the direction of her blows, and, instead of -knocking on the ceiling to arouse Hermann, began to knock on the floor -to arouse Pagolo, who slept in the room below. - -But Pagolo was as deaf as Hermann, and Ruperta pounded to no purpose. - -She then abandoned the vertical for the horizontal line. Ascanio was her -neighbor, and she knocked on the partition with her broom-handle. - -But all was silence in Ascanio's quarters, as in those of Hermann and -Pagolo. It was evident that neither of the three was at home. In an -instant it occurred to Ruperta that the monk had carried off all three -of them. - -As there was little consolation in this idea, Ruperta's terror waxed -greater and greater, and, as she was certain that no one would come to -her assistance, she thrust her head beneath the bedclothes and waited. - -She waited an hour, an hour and a half, two hours perhaps, and as she -heard no noise, she regained her courage in a measure, softly removed -the sheet from her head, and ventured to look with one eye, then with -both. The vision had disappeared. The head of Mars had gone out, and all -was dark once more. - -Although the silence and darkness were calculated to set her mind at -rest, it will readily be understood that Dame Ruperta and slumber were -at odds for the balance of the night. The poor woman lay, with her ear -on the alert and both eyes wide open, until the first rays of dawn -reflected on her window announced that the time for ghosts to walk had -passed. - -Now this is what Ruperta had to tell, and it must be said in her honor -that her narrative produced an even deeper impression than that of the -preceding night; its effect upon Dame Perrine and Hermann, Scozzone and -Pagolo, was particularly noticeable. The two men essayed to make excuses -for not hearing Ruperta, but their voices trembled so, and their -embarrassment was so great, that Jacques Aubry roared with laughter. -Dame Perrine and Scozzone, on the other hand, did not breathe a word. -They turned red and pale by turns, so that, if it had been daylight and -you could have followed upon their faces the reflection of what was -taking place in their minds, you would have believed them at the point -of death from apoplexy, and again from inanition, all within ten -seconds. - -"And so, Dame Perrrine," said Scozzone, who was the first to recover her -self-possession, "you claim to have seen the monk's ghost walking in the -garden of the Grand-Nesle?" - -"As plainly as I see you, my child," was Dame Perrrine's reply. - -"And you, Ruperta, saw the head of the Mars on fire?" - -"I can see it still." - -"Look you," said Dame Perrine, "the accursed ghost must have chosen the -head of the statue for his domicile; and as a ghost must of course take -a little exercise now and then like a natural being, he comes down at -certain hours, walks hither and thither, and when he's tired goes back -into the head. Idols and spirits, you see, understand one another, like -thieves on market day; they live in hell together, and this horrible -false god Mars naturally enough offers his hospitality to the infernal -monk." - -"Pelieve you zo, Dame Perrine?" queried the innocent German. - -"I am sure of it, Monsieur Hermann, sure of it." - -"It makes my flesh to greep, on my vord!" muttered Hermann with a -shudder. - -"So you believe in ghosts, Hermann?" asked Aubry. - -"Ja, I do pelieve in tem." - -Jacques Aubry shrugged his shoulders, but as he did so he determined to -solve the mystery. It was the easiest thing in the world for one who, -like himself, went in and out of the house as familiarly as if he were -one of the family. He made up his mind, therefore, that he would go and -see Gervaise the next day, but that on this evening he would remain at -the Grand-Nesle until ten o'clock; at ten o'clock he would say good -night to everybody and pretend to go away, but that he would remain -within the precincts, climb a poplar, and make the acquaintance of the -phantom from a hiding place among the branches. - -Everything fell out as the student planned. He left the studio alone as -usual, shut the door leading into the quay with a great noise to -indicate that he had gone out, then ran rapidly to the foot of the -poplar, seized the lowest branch, drew himself up to it by his wrists, -and in an instant was at the top of the tree. There he was just on a -level with the head of the statue, and overlooked both the Grand and -Petit-Nesle, so that nothing could take place in the courtyard or garden -of either unseen by him. - -While Jacques Aubry was taking up his position on his lofty perch, a -grand soirée was in progress at the Louvre, and all the windows were -ablaze with light. Charles V. had finally decided to leave -Fontainebleau, and venture within the walls of the capital, and the two -sovereigns had entered Paris that same evening. - -A gorgeous welcoming fête awaited the Emperor there. There was a -banquet, gaming, and a ball. Gondolas lighted by colored lanterns glided -up and down the Seine, laden with musicians, and made melodious pauses -in front of the famous balcony, from which, thirty years later, Charles -IX. was to fire upon his people, while boats gayly decked with flowers -conveyed from one bank of the river to the other those guests who were -on their way from the Faubourg Saint-Germain to the Louvre, or who were -returning to the Faubourg Saint-Germain. - -Among the guests the Vicomte de Marmagne was naturally included. - -As we have said, the Vicomte de Marmagne, a tall, pink-cheeked, insipid -dandy, claimed to be a great destroyer of hearts. On this occasion he -thought that a certain pretty little countess, whose husband happened to -be with the army in Savoy, cast meaning glances at him; thereupon he -danced with her, and fancied that her hand was not insensible to the -pressure he ventured to bestow upon it. And so, when he saw the fair -object of his thoughts leave the ball-room, he imagined, from the glance -she gave him as she departed, that, like Galatea, she was flying toward -the willows in the hope of being pursued. Marmagne therefore set out in -pursuit, and as she lived in the vicinity of Rue Hautefeuille his course -lay from the Louvre to the Tour de Nesle, and thence along the quay and -through Rue des Grands Augustins to Rue Saint-André. He was walking -along the quay when he heard steps behind him. - -It was about one o'clock in the morning. The moon, as we have said, was -entering her last quarter, so that the night was quite dark. Among the -rare moral qualities with which nature had endowed Marmagne, courage did -not hold a prominent position. He began therefore after a while to be -somewhat disturbed by these footsteps, which seemed to be following his -own, and quickened his gait, wrapping himself more closely than ever in -his cloak, and instinctively grasping the hilt of his sword. - -But the acceleration of speed profited him not; the steps behind -governed themselves by his, and even seemed to gain upon him, so that, -just as he passed the doorway of the church of the Augustins he realized -that he should very soon be overtaken by his fellow traveller unless he -quickened his pace still more to a racing speed. He was just about to -adopt that extreme course when the sound of a voice mingled with the -sound of the footsteps. - -"Pardieu! my fine sir, you do well to walk fast," said the voice, "for -this isn't a very safe place, especially at this hour; right here, you -know of course, is where my worthy friend Benvenuto was -attacked,--Benvenuto, the sublime artist, who is at Fontainebleau at -this moment, and has no suspicion of what is going on under his roof. -But as we are going in the same direction apparently, we can walk along -together, and if we meet any cut-throats they will look twice before -they attack us. I offer you therefore the safeguard of my companionship, -if you will give me the honor of yours." - -At the first word our student uttered, Marmagne knew that it was the -voice of one who wished him no ill, and at the name of Benvenuto he -remembered and recognized the garrulous law student, who had on a -previous occasion given him so much useful information concerning the -interior of the Grand-Nesle. He at once halted, and waited for master -Jacques Aubry to come up, for his society would be of advantage to him -in two ways. In the first place, he would serve as a sort of body guard, -and might in the mean while give him some fresh information concerning -his enemy, which his hatred would enable him to turn to advantage. He -therefore welcomed the student with his most agreeable manner. - -"Good evening, my young friend," he said, in reply to the familiar -harangue addressed to him by Jacques Aubry in the darkness. "What were -you saying of our good Benvenuto, whom I hoped to meet at the Louvre, -but who has remained at Fontainebleau, like the fox that he is!" - -"Well, by my soul, here's luck!" cried Jacques Aubry. "What, is it you, -my dear vicomte--de--You forgot to tell me your name, or I forgot to -remember it. You come from the Louvre? Was it very lovely, very lively, -with love-making galore? We are in good luck, my gentleman, aren't we? O -you heart-breaker!" - -"Faith!" said Marmagne with a simper, "you're a sorcerer, my dear -fellow; yes, I come from the Louvre, where the king said some very -gracious things to me, and where I should still he if a certain -fascinating little countess had not signified to me that she preferred a -solitude _à deux_ to all that crush. But whence come you?" - -"Whence come I?" rejoined Aubry, with a hearty laugh. "Faith! you remind -me! Poor Benvenuto! On my word, he doesn't deserve it!" - -"Pray what has happened to our dear friend?" - -"In the first place, you must know that I come from the Grand-Nesle, -where I have passed two hours clinging to the branch of a tree like any -parrot." - -"The devil! that was no very comfortable position!" - -"Never mind, never mind! I don't regret the cramp I got there, for I saw -things, my friend, I saw things--Why, simply in thinking of them I -suffocate with laughter." - -As he spoke Jacques Aubry did laugh, so joyously and frankly that, -although Marmagne had as yet no idea what he was laughing at, he could -not forbear joining in the chorus. But his ignorance of the cause of the -student's amusement naturally made him the first to cease. - -"Now, my young friend, that I have been drawn on by your hilarity to -laugh in confidence," said Marmagne, "may I not know what wonderful -things they were to amuse you so? You know that I am one of Benvenuto's -faithful friends, although I have never met you at his house, as my -occupation leaves me very little time to devote to society, and that -little I prefer to devote to my mistresses rather than my friends, I -confess. But it is none the less true that whatever affects him affects -me. Dear Benvenuto! Tell me what is going on at the Grand-Nesle in his -absence? That interests me more than I can explain to you." - -"What is going on?" said Aubry. "No, no, that's a secret." - -"A secret to me!" said Marmagne. "A secret to me, who love Benvenuto so -dearly, and who this very evening outdid King François I. in eulogizing -him! Ah! that is too bad," added the viscount, with an injured -expression. - -"If I were only sure that you would mention it to nobody, my dear--What -the devil is your name, my dear friend?--I would tell you about it, for -I confess that I am as anxious to tell my story as King Midas's reeds -were to tell theirs." - -"Tell it then, tell it," said Marmagne. - -"You won't repeat it to anybody?" - -"To nobody, I swear!" - -"On your word of honor?" - -"On the faith of a nobleman." - -"Fancy then--But, in the first place, my dear friend, you know the -story of the monk's ghost, don't you?" - -"Yes, I've heard of it. A phantom that is said to haunt the -Grand-Nesle." - -"Just so. Well, well! if you know that, I can tell you the rest. Fancy -that Dame Perrine--" - -"Colombe's governess?" - -"Just so. Well, well, it's easy to see that you're a friend of the -family. Fancy then that Dame Perrine, in a nocturnal walk which she was -taking for her health, thought that she saw the ghostly monk also taking -a walk in the garden of the Grand-Nesle, while at the same time Dame -Ruperta--You know Dame Ruperta?" - -"Isn't she Cellini's old servant?" - -"Just so. While Dame Ruperta, during one of her fits of sleeplessness, -saw flames darting from the eyes, nose, and mouth of the great statue of -Mars which you have seen in the gardens of the Grand-Nesle." - -"Yes, a veritable _chef-d'œuvre_!" said Marmagne. - -"_Chef-d'œuvre_ is the word. Cellini makes nothing else. Flow, these -two respectable ladies--I speak of Dame Perrine and Dame Ruperta--agreed -between themselves that the two apparitions had the same cause, and that -the demon, who stalked abroad at night in the guise of the ghostly monk, -ascended at cock-crow into the head of the god Mars, a fitting retreat -for a lost soul like him, and was there consumed by such fierce flames -that they came out through the statue's eyes, nose, and ears." - -"What sort of a fairy tale is this, my dear man?" said Marmagne, unable -to tell whether the student was joking or talking seriously. - -"The tale of a ghost, my friend, nothing more nor less." - -"Can it be that an intelligent fellow like you believes in such stuff?" - -"Why no, I don't believe in it," said Jacques Aubry. "That is just why I -concluded to pass the night in a poplar tree to clear up the mystery, -and find out who the demon really is who is upsetting the whole -household. So I pretended to come out, but instead of closing the door -of the Grand-Nesle behind me I closed it in front of me, glided back in -the darkness without being seen, and got safely to the poplar upon which -I had my eye: five minutes later I was snugly ensconced among the -branches on a level with Mars's head. Now guess what I saw." - -"How can I guess, pray?" - -"To be sure, one must be a sorcerer to guess such things. In the first -place I saw the great door open; the door at the top of the steps, you -know?" - -"Yes, yes, I know it," said Marmagne. - -"I saw the door open and a man put his nose out to see if there was any -one in the courtyard. It was Hermann, the fat German." - -"Yes, Hermann, the fat German," echoed Marmagne. - -"When he was fully assured that the courtyard was deserted, having -looked about everywhere, except in the tree, where, as you can imagine, -he was very far from suspecting my presence, he came out, closed the -door behind him, descended the five or six steps, and went straight to -the door of the Petit-Nesle, where he knocked three times. At that -signal a woman came out of the Petit-Nesle and opened the door. This -woman was our friend Dame Perrine, who apparently has a weakness for -walking about at night with our Goliath." - -"No, really? Oh the poor provost!" - -"Wait a moment, wait, that's not all! I was looking after them as they -went into the Petit-Nesle, when suddenly I heard the grating of a -window-sash at my left. I turned; the window opened and out came -Pagolo,--that brigand of a Pagolo!--who would have believed it of him -with all his protestations, and his Paters and Aves?--out came Pagolo, -and, after looking about as cautiously as Hermann, straddled the -windowsill, slid down the gutter, and went from balcony to balcony until -he reached the window--guess of whose room, viscount!" - -"How can I tell? was it Dame Ruperta's?" - -"Oh no! Scozzone's, nothing less! Scozzone, Benvenuto's beloved -model,--a lovely brunette, my word for it. Can you believe it of the -rascal, viscount?" - -"Indeed, it's most diverting," said Marmagne. "Is that all you saw?" - -"Wait a bit, wait a bit, my dear fellow! I have kept the best till the -last, the best morsel for the _bonne bouche_; wait a bit, we aren't -there yet, but we soon shall be, never fear!" - -"I am listening," said Marmagne. "On my honor, my dear fellow, it couldn't -be more diverting." - -"Wait a bit, I say, wait a bit. I was watching my Pagolo running from -balcony to balcony at the risk of breaking his neck, when I heard -another noise, which came almost from the foot of the tree in which I -was sitting. I looked down and saw Ascanio creeping stealthily along -from the foundry." - -"Ascanio, Benvenuto's beloved pupil?" - -"Himself, my friend, himself. A sort of choir-boy, to whom one would -give absolution without confession. Oh yes! that comes of trusting to -appearances." - -"Why had Ascanio come out?" - -"Ah, that's just it! Why had he? that's what I asked myself at first, -but soon I had no occasion to ask it; for Ascanio, after having made -sure, as Hermann and Pagolo had done, that nobody could see him, took -from the foundry a long ladder, which he rested against the shoulders of -Mars, and up he climbed. As the ladder was on the opposite side from -myself, I lost sight of him as he went up, and was just wondering what -had become of him when I saw a light in the eyes of the statue." - -"What's that you say?" cried Marmagne. - -"The exact truth, my friend, and I confess that, if it had happened -without any knowledge on my part of what had happened previously, I -should not have been altogether at my ease. But I had seen Ascanio -disappear, and I suspected that the light was caused by him." - -"But what was Ascanio doing at that hour in the head of the god Mars?" - -"Ah! that is just the question I asked myself, and as there was no one -to answer me I determined to find out for myself. I gazed with all my -eyes, and succeeded in discovering, through those of the statue, a -ghost, i' faith! yes, dressed all in white; the ghost of a woman, at -whose feet Ascanio was kneeling as respectfully as before a Madonna. -Unfortunately, the Madonna's back was turned to me, and I could not see -her face, but I saw her neck. Oh what lovely necks ghosts have, my dear -viscount! Imagine a perfect swan's neck, white as snow. And Ascanio was -gazing at it, the impious varlet! with a degree of adoration which -convinced me that the ghost was a woman. What do you say to that, my -dear fellow? Gad! it's a neat trick, eh? to conceal one's mistress in -the head of a statue." - -"Yes, yes, it's most ingenious," rejoined Marmagne, laughing and -reflecting at the same time; "very ingenious, in good sooth. And you -have no suspicion who the woman can be?" - -"Upon my honor, I have no idea. And you?" - -"No more than you. What did you do, pray, when you saw all this?" - -"What did I do? I laughed so that I lost my balance, and if I hadn't -caught on a branch I should have broken my neck. As there was nothing -more to see, and I had fallen half-way to the ground, I climbed down the -rest of the way, crept to the door, and was on my way home, still -laughing all by myself, when I met you, and you compelled me to tell you -the story. Now, give me your advice, as you are of Benvenuto's friends. -What must I do about telling him? As for Dame Perrine, that doesn't -concern him; the dear woman is of age, and consequently mistress of her -actions; but as to Scozzone, and the Venus who lodges in the head of -Mars, it's a different matter." - -"And you want me to advise you as to what you ought to do?" - -"Yes, I do indeed! I am much perplexed, my dear--my dear--I always -forget your name." - -"My advice is to say nothing to him. So much the worse for those who are -foolish enough to allow themselves to be deceived. I am obliged to you, -Master Jacques Aubry, for your company and your agreeable conversation; -but here we are at Rue Hautefeuille, and to return confidence for -confidence, this is where my charmer dwells." - -"Adieu, my dear, my excellent friend," said Jacques Aubry, pressing the -viscount's hand. "Your advice is good and I will follow it. Good luck, -and may Cupid watch over you!" - -Thereupon they parted, Marmagne taking Rue Hautefeuille, and Jacques -Aubry Rue Poupée, on his way to Rue de la Harpe, at the far end of -which he had taken up his abode. - -The viscount lied to the unlucky student when he declared that he had no -suspicion as to the identity of the female demon whom Ascanio adored on -his knees. His first thought was that the inhabitant of Mars was no -other than Colombe, and the more he reflected upon it, the more firmly -convinced he became. As we have said, Marmagne was equally ill disposed -toward the provost, D'Orbec, and Cellini, and he found himself in a very -awkward position as regarded the gratification of his ill will, for he -could not inflict suffering upon one without giving pleasure to the -others. If he held his peace, D'Orbec and the provost would remain in -their present embarrassed plight; but Benvenuto would likewise continue -in his present joyous frame of mind. If, on the other hand, he disclosed -what he had learned, Benvenuto would be in despair, but the provost -would recover his child, D'Orbec his betrothed. He determined, -therefore, to turn the thing over in his mind until it should be made -clear to him what was the most advantageous course for him to follow. - -His indecision did not long endure; without knowing the real motive for -her interest, he was aware that Madame d'Etampes was deeply interested -in the marriage of Comte d'Orbec with Colombe. He thought that, by -revealing his secret to the duchess, he might gain sufficient credit for -perspicacity to make up for what he had lost in the matter of courage; -he resolved, therefore, to appear at her morning reception on the -following day, and tell her everything. Having formed that resolution, -he punctually put it in execution. - -By one of those fortunate chances which sometimes serve the purpose of -evil deeds so well, all the courtiers were at the Louvre, paying court -to François I. and the Emperor, and there was nobody at Madame -d'Etampes's reception save her two faithful servants, the provost and -Comte d'Orbec, when the Vicomte de Marmagne was announced. - -The viscount respectfully saluted the duchess, who acknowledged his -salutation with one of those smiles which belonged to her alone, and in -which she could express pride, condescension, and disdain all at the -same time. But Marmagne did not worry about this smile, with which he -was well acquainted from having seen it upon the duchess's lips not only -for his own benefit, but for the benefit of many another. He knew -moreover that he possessed a certain means of transforming that smile of -contempt into a smile of good will by a single word. - -"Aha! Messire d'Estourville," he said, turning to the provost, "so the -prodigal child has returned?" - -"Still the same pleasantry, Viscount!" cried Messire d'Estourville with -a threatening gesture, and flushing with anger. - -"Oh don't lose your temper, my good friend, don't lose your temper!" -returned Marmagne; "I tell you this, because, if you haven't yet found -your vanished dove, I know where she has built her nest." - -"You do?" cried the duchess, in the most charmingly friendly way. -"Where is it, pray? Tell me quickly, I beg, my dear Marmagne?" - -"In the head of the statue of Mars, which Benvenuto has modelled in the -garden of the Grand-Nesle." - - - - -IX - - -MARS AND VENUS - - -The reader will doubtless have guessed the truth, no less accurately -than Marmagne, strange as it may have appeared at first glance. The head -of the colossus was Colombe's place of retreat. Mars furnished -apartments for Venus, as Jacques Aubry said. For the second time -Benvenuto gave his handiwork a part to play in his life, summoned the -artist to the assistance of the man, and embodied his fate in his -statues as well as his thought and his genius. He had on an earlier -occasion concealed his means of escape in one of his figures; he was now -concealing Colombe's freedom and Ascanio's happiness in another. - -But, having reached this point in our narrative, it becomes necessary -for greater clearness to retrace our steps a moment. - -When Cellini finished the story of Stefana, there was a brief pause. -Benvenuto saw, among the phantoms which stood out vividly in his -painful, obtrusive memories of the past, the melancholy, but serene -features of Stefana, twenty years dead. Ascanio, with head bent forward, -was trying to recall the pale face of the woman who had leaned over his -cradle and often awoke him in his infancy, while the tears fell from her -sad eyes upon his chubby cheeks. Colombe was gazing with deep emotion at -Benvenuto, whom another woman, young and pure like herself, had loved so -dearly: at that moment his voice seemed to her almost as soft as -Ascanio's, and between the two, both of whom loved her devotedly, she -felt instinctively that she was as safe as a child could be upon its -mother's knee. - -Benvenuto was the first to break the silence. - -"Well!" he said, "will Colombe trust herself to the man to whom Stefana -intrusted Ascanio?" - -"You are my father, he my brother," replied Colombe, giving a hand to -each of them with modest grace and dignity, "and I place myself blindly -in your hands to keep me for my husband." - -"Thanks," said Ascanio, "thanks, my beloved, for your trust in him." - -"You promise to obey me in everything, Colombe?" said Benvenuto. - -"In everything." - -"Then listen, my children. I have always been convinced that man could -do what he would, but only with the assistance of God on high and time -here below. To save you from Comte d'Orbec and infamy, and to give you -to my Ascanio, I must have time, Colombe, and in a very few days you are -to be the count's wife. First of all then the essential thing is to -delay this unholy union, is it not, Colombe, my sister, my child, my -daughter? There are times in this sad life when it is necessary to do -wrong in order to prevent a crime. Will you be courageous and resolute? -Will your love, which is so pure and devoted, be brave and strong as -well? Tell me." - -"Ascanio will answer for me," said Colombe, with a smile, turning to the -youth. "It is his right to dispose of me." - -"Have no fear, master: Colombe will be brave," said Ascanio. - -"In that case, Colombe, will you, trusting in our loyalty and your own -innocence, boldly leave this house and go with us?" - -Ascanio started in surprise. Colombe looked at them both for a moment -without speaking, then rose to her feet, and said simply,-- - -"Where am I to go?" - -"O Colombe, Colombe!" cried Benvenuto, deeply moved by such absolute -trust, "you are a noble, saintly creature, and yet Stefana made me very -exacting in my ideal. Everything depended upon your reply. We are saved -now, but there isn't a moment to lose. This is the decisive hour. God -places it at our disposal, let us avail ourselves of it. Give me your -hand, Colombe, and follow me." - -The maiden lowered her veil as if to hide her blush from itself, then -followed the master and Ascanio. The door between the Grand and -Petit-Nesle was locked, but the key was in the lock. Benvenuto opened it -noiselessly. - -When they were passing through, Colombe stopped. - -"Wait a moment," she said in a voice trembling with emotion; and upon -the threshold of the house which she was leaving because it had ceased -to be a sanctuary for her, the child knelt and prayed. Her prayer -remained a secret between God and herself; but doubtless she prayed that -he would forgive her father for what she was driven to do. Then she -rose, calm and strong, and went on under the guidance of Cellini. -Ascanio with troubled heart followed them in silence, gazing fondly at -the white dress which fled before him in the shadow. They walked in -this way across the garden of the Grand-Nesle; the songs and heedless, -joyous laughter of the workmen at their supper, for it will be -remembered that it was a holiday at the château, reached the ears of -our friends, who were anxious and nervous as people ordinarily are at -supreme moments. - -When they reached the foot of the statue, Benvenuto left Colombe a -moment, went to the foundry, and reappeared, laden with a long ladder -which he leaned against the colossus. The moon, the celestial watcher, -east her pale light upon the scene. Having made sure that the ladder was -firmly fixed in its place, the master knelt upon one knee in front of -Colombe. The most touching respect softened the sternness of his -expression. - -"My child," said he, "put your arms around me, and hold fast." - -Colombe obeyed without a word, and Benvenuto lifted her as if she had -been a feather. - -"The brother," he said to Ascanio as he drew near, "must allow the -father to carry his beloved daughter." - -The powerful goldsmith, laden with the most precious of all burdens, -started up the ladder as lightly as if he were carrying nothing heavier -than a bird. As her head lay upon the master's shoulder, Colombe could -watch his manly, good-humored faee, and felt a degree of filial trust in -him which was unlike anything she had ever experienced. As to Cellini, -so powerful was the will of this man of iron, that he was able to hold -her in his arms, for whom he would have given his life two hours -earlier, with a hand that did not tremble, nor did his heart heat more -rapidly or a single one of his muscles of steel weaken for an instant. -He had ordered his heart to be calm, and his heart had obeyed. - -When he reached the neck of the statue he opened a small door, entered -the head, and deposited Colombe therein. - -The interior of this colossal head of a statue nearly sixty feet high -formed a small round room some eight feet in diameter, and ten feet -high; air and light made their way in through the openings for the eyes, -nose, mouth, and ears. This miniature apartment Benvenuto made when he -was working at the head; he used it as a receptacle for the tools he was -using, so that he need not be at the trouble of taking them up and down -five or six times a day; often too he carried up his lunch with him and -set it out upon a table which stood in the centre of this unique -dining-room, so that he had not to leave his scaffolding to take his -morning meal. This innovation which was so convenient for him, made the -place attractive to him; he followed up the table with a cot-bed, and -latterly he had formed the habit of taking his noon-day siesta in the -head of his Mars, as well as of breakfasting there. It was quite -natural, therefore, that it should occur to him to ensconce Colombe in -what was clearly the most secure hiding place of all he could offer her. - -"This is where you must remain, Colombe," said Benvenuto, "and you must -make up your mind to go down only after dark. Await here in this -retreat, under God's eye and our watchful care, the result of my -efforts. Jupiter," he added with a smile, alluding to the king's -promise, "will finish, I trust, what Mars has begun. You don't -understand, but I know what I mean. We have Olympus on our side, and you -have Paradise. How can we not succeed? Come, smile a little, Colombe, -for the future at least, if not for the present. I tell you in all -seriousness that we have ground for hope. Hope therefore with -confidence,--in God, if not in me. I have been in a sterner prison than -yours, believe me, and my hope made me indifferent to my captivity. From -now until the day that success crowns my efforts, Colombe, you will see -me no more. Your brother Ascanio, who is less suspected and less closely -watched than I am, will come to see you, and will stand guard over you. -I rely upon him to transform this workman's chamber into a nun's cell. -Now that I am about to leave you, mark well and remember my words: you -have done all that you had to do, trustful and courageous child; the -rest concerns me. We have now only to allow Providence time to do its -part, Colombe. Now listen. Whatever happens remember this: however -desperate your situation may seem to be or may really be, even though -you stand at the altar and have naught left to say but the terrible Yes -which would unite you forever to Comte d'Orbec, do not doubt your -friend, Colombe; do not doubt your father, my child; rely upon God and -upon us; I will arrive in time, I promise you. Will you have the -requisite faith and resolution? Tell me." - -"Yes," said the girl confidently. - -"'Tis well," said Cellini. "Adieu. I leave you now in your solitude; -when everybody is asleep, Ascanio will come and bring you what you need. -Adieu, Colombe." - -He held out his hand, but Colombe gave him her forehead to kiss as she -was accustomed to do with her father. Benvenuto started, but, passing -his hand over his eyes, he mastered the thoughts which came to his mind -and the passions which raged in his heart, and deposited upon that -spotless forehead the most paternal of kisses. - -"Adieu, dear child of Stefana," he whispered, and went quickly down the -ladder to Ascanio, with whom he joined the workmen, who had finished -eating, but were drinking still. - -A new life, a strange, dream-like life, thereupon began for Colombe, and -she accommodated herself to it as she would have done to the life of a -queen. - -Let us see how the aerial chamber was furnished. It had already, as we -know, a bed and a table. Ascanio added a low velvet chair, a Venetian -mirror, a collection of religious books selected by Colombe herself, a -crucifix,--a marvellous piece of carving,--and a silver vase, also from -the master's hand, which was filled every night with fresh flowers. -There was room for nothing more in the white shell, which contained so -much of innocence and charm. - -Colombe ordinarily slept during the day. Ascanio had advised that course -for fear that, if she were awake, she might thoughtlessly do something -that would betray her presence. She awoke with the stars and the -nightingale's song, knelt upon her bed, in front of her crucifix, and -remained for some time absorbed in fervent prayer; then she made her -toilet, dressed her lovely, luxuriant hair, and sat and mused. Erelong a -ladder would be placed against the statue and Ascanio would knock at the -little door. If Colombe's toilet was completed, she would admit him and -he would remain with her until midnight. At midnight, if the weather was -fine, she would go down into the garden, and Ascanio would return to the -Grand-Nesle for a few hours' sleep, while Colombe took her nightly walk, -beginning once more the old dreams she used to dream in her favorite -path, and which seemed now more likely to be fulfilled. After about two -hours the white apparition would return to her snug retreat, where she -would wait for daylight and her bedtime, inhaling the sweet odor of the -flowers she had collected for her little nest, and listening to the -singing of the nightingales in the Petit-Nesle, and the crowing of the -cocks in the Pré-aux-Clercs. - -Just before dawn Ascanio would return to his beloved once more, bringing -her daily supply of provisions, adroitly subtracted from Dame Ruperta's -larder by virtue of Cellini's complicity. Then they would sit for a -while, conversing as only lovers can converse, evoking memories of the -past, and forming plans for the future when they should be man and wife. -Sometimes Ascanio would sit silently contemplating Colombe, and Colombe -would meet his earnest gaze with her sweet smile. Often when they parted -they had not exchanged a single word, but those were the occasions on -which they said most. Had not each of them in his or her heart all that -the other could have said, in addition to what the heart cannot say, but -God reads? - -Grief and solitude have this advantage in youth, that, while they make -the heart nobler and greater, they preserve its freshness. Colombe, a -proud, dignified maiden, was at the same time a light-hearted young -madcap: so there were days when they laughed as well as days when they -dreamed,--days when they played together like children; and, most -astonishing thing of all, those days--or nights, for, as we have seen, -the young people had inverted the order of nature--were not the ones -that passed most quickly. Love, like every other shining thing, needs a -little darkness to make its light shine the brighter. - -Never did Ascanio utter a word that could alarm the timid, innocent -child who called him brother. They were alone, and they loved each -other; but for the very reason that they were alone they were the more -conscious of the presence of God, whose heaven they saw nearer at hand, -and for the very reason that they loved each other, they respected their -love as a divinity. - -As soon as the first rays of dawn began to cast a feeble light upon the -roofs of the houses, Colombe regretfully sent her friend away, but -called him back as many times as Juliet did Romeo. One or the other had -always forgotten something of the greatest importance; however, they had -to part at last, and Colombe, up to the moment, toward noon, when she -committed her heart to God, and slept the sleep of the angels, would sit -alone, and dream, listening to the voices whispering in her heart, and -to the little birds singing under the lindens in her old garden. It goes -without saying that Ascanio always carried the ladder away with him. - -Every morning she strewed bread around the mouth of the statue for the -little birds; the bold-faced little fellows would come and seize it, and -fly quickly away again at first; but they gradually grew tame. Birds -seem to understand the hearts of young girls, who are winged like -themselves. They finally would remain for a long while, and would pay in -song for the banquet with which Colombe regaled them. There was one -audacious goldfinch who ventured within the room, and finally acquired -the habit of eating from Colombe's hand at morning and evening. When the -nights began to be a little cool, one night he allowed himself to be -taken captive by the young prisoner, who put him in her bosom, and there -he slept until morning, notwithstanding Ascanio's visit and Colombe's -nightly promenade. After that the willing captive never failed to return -at night. At daybreak he would begin to sing: Colombe would then hold -him for Ascanio to kiss, and set him at liberty. - -Thus did Colombe's days glide by in the head of the statue. Only two -things occurred to disturb the tranquillity of her existence; those two -things were the provost's domiciliary visits. Once Colombe awoke with a -start at the sound of her father's voice. It was no dream; he was down -in the garden beneath her, and Benvenuto was saying to him: "You ask -what this colossal figure is, Monsieur d'Estourville? It is the statue -of Mars, which his Majesty condescended to order for Fontainebleau. A -little bauble sixty feet high, as you see!" - -"It is of noble proportions, and very beautiful," replied D'Estourville; -"but let us go on, this is not what I am in search of." - -"No, it would be too easy to find." - -And they passed on. - -Colombe, kneeling with outstretched arms, felt an intense longing to cry -out, "Father, father, I am here!" The old man was seeking his child, -weeping for her perhaps; but the thought of Comte d'Orbec, the hateful -schemes of Madame d'Etampes, and the memory of the conversation Ascanio -overheard, paralyzed her impulse. And on the second visit the same -impulse did not come to her when the voice of the odious count was -mingled with the provost's. - -"There's a curious statue built just like a house," said D'Orbec, as he -halted at the foot of the colossus. "If it stands through the winter, -the swallows will build their nests in it in the spring." - -On the morning of the day when the mere voice of her _fiancé_ so -alarmed Colombe, Ascanio had brought her a letter from Cellini. - - -"My child," so ran the letter, "I am obliged to go away, but have no -fear. I leave everything prepared for your deliverance and your -happiness. The king's word guarantees my success, and the king you know -has never been false to his word. From to-day your father also will be -absent. Do not despair. I have now had all the time that I needed. -Therefore I say to you again, dear girl, though you should be at the -church door, though you should be kneeling at the altar, and on the -point of uttering the words which bind you for life, let things take -their course. Providence will intervene in time, I swear to you. Adieu. - -"Your father, - -"BENVENUTO CELLINI." - - -This letter, which filled Colombe's heart with joy by reviving her -hopes, had the unfortunate result of causing the poor children to feel a -dangerous sense of security. Youth is incapable of moderate feelings: it -leaps at one bound from despair to the fullest confidence; in its eyes -the sky is always black with tempests or resplendently clear. Being -rendered doubly confident by the provost's absence and Cellini's letter, -they neglected their precautions, and thought more of their love and -less of prudence. Colombe was not so guarded in her movements, and Dame -Perrine saw her, but luckily mistook her for the monk's ghost. Ascanio -lighted the lamp without drawing the curtains, and the light was seen by -Dame Ruperta. The tales of the two gossips taken in conjunction aroused -the curiosity of Jacques Aubry, and the indiscreet student, like Horace -in the "École des Femmes," revealed everything to the very person to -whom he should have revealed absolutely nothing. We know the result of -his disclosures. - -Let us now return to the Hôtel d'Etampes. - -When Marmagne was asked how he had stumbled upon his valuable discovery, -he assumed an air of mystery and refused to tell. The truth was too -simple, and did not reflect sufficient credit upon his penetration; he -preferred to let it be understood that he had arrived at the magnificent -results which aroused their wonder by dint of strategy and perseverance. -The duchess was radiant; she went and came, and plied the viscount with -questions. So they had her at last, the little rebel who had terrified -them all! Madame d'Etampes determined to go in person to the Hôtel de -Nesle to make sure of her friend's good fortune. Moreover, after what -had happened after the flight, or rather the abduction, of Colombe, the -girl must not be left at the Petit-Nesle. The duchess would take charge -of her: she would take her to the Hôtel d'Etampes, and would keep a -closer watch upon her than duenna and _fiancé_ together had done; she -would keep watch upon her as a rival, so that Colombe would surely be -well guarded. - -The duchess ordered her litter. - -"The affair has been kept very secret," said she to the provost. "You, -D'Orbec, are not the man to worry about a childish escapade of this -sort? I don't see, then, what is to prevent the marriage from taking -place, and our plans from being carried out." - -"On the same conditions, of course, duchess?" said D'Orbec. - -"To be sure, on the same conditions, my dear count. As to Benvenuto," -continued the duchess, "who is guilty, either as principal or accessory, -of an infamous abduction,--never fear, dear viscount, we will avenge -you, while avenging ourselves." - -"But I understand, madame," rejoined Marmagne, "that, the king in his -artistic enthusiasm had made him a solemn promise, in case the statue of -his Jupiter should be cast successfully, so that he will simply have to -breathe a wish to see his wish gratified." - -"Never fear, that's just where I will watch," rejoined the duchess; "I -will prepare a surprise for him on that day that will be a surprise -indeed. So rely upon me, and let me manage everything." - -That was in truth the best thing they could do: not for a long while had -the duchess seemed so eager, so animated, so charming. Her joy -overflowed in spite of her. She sent the provost away in hot haste to -summon his archers, and erelong that functionary, accompanied by D'Orbec -and Marmagne, and preceded by a number of subordinates, arrived at the -door of the Hôtel de Nesle, followed at a short distance by Madame -d'Etampes, who waited upon the quay, trembling with impatience, and -constantly thrusting her head out of the litter. - -It was the dinner hour of the workmen, and Ascanio, Pagolo, little -Jehan, and the women were the only occupants of the Grand-Nesle at the -moment. Benvenuto was not expected until the evening of the following -day, or the morning of the day following that. Ascanio, who received the -visitors, supposed that it was a third domiciliary visit, and, as he had -very positive orders from the master on that subject, he offered no -resistance, but welcomed them, on the other hand, most courteously. - -The provost, his friends and his retainers, went straight to the -foundry. - -"Open this door for us," said D'Estourville to Ascanio. - -The young man's heart was oppressed with a terrible presentiment. -However he might be mistaken, and as the least hesitation might awaken -suspicion, he handed the provost the key without moving a muscle. - -"Take that long ladder," said the provost to his archers. - -They obeyed, and under Messire d'Estourville's guidance marched straight -to the statue. There the provost himself put the ladder in place, and -prepared to ascend, but Ascanio, pale with terror and wrath placed his -foot on the first round. - -"What is your purpose, messieurs?" he cried; "this statue is the -master's masterpiece. It has been placed in my charge, and the first man -who lays hand upon it for any purpose whatsoever is a dead man, I warn -you!" - -He drew from his belt a keen-edged, slender dagger, of such marvellous -temper that it would cut through a gold crown at a single blow. - -The provost gave a signal and his archers advanced upon Ascanio pike in -hand. He made a desperate resistance and wounded two men; but he could -do nothing alone against eight, leaving the provost, Marmagne, and -D'Orbec out of the reckoning. He was forced to yield to superior -numbers: he was thrown down, bound and gagged, and the provost started -up the ladder, followed by two sergeants for fear of a surprise. - -Colombe had heard and seen everything; her father found her in a swoon, -for when she saw Ascanio fall she believed him to be dead. - -Aroused to anger rather than anxiety by this sight, the provost threw -Colombe roughly over his broad shoulders, and descended the ladder. The -whole party then returned to the quay, the archers escorting Ascanio, at -whom D'Orbec gazed most earnestly. Pagolo saw his comrade pass and did -not stir. Little Jehan had disappeared. Scozzone alone, understanding -nothing of what had taken place, tried to bar the door, crying,-- - -"What means this violence, messieurs? Why are you taking Ascanio away? -Who is this woman?" - -But at that moment the veil which covered Colombe's face fell off, and -Scozzone recognized the model for the statue of Hebe. - -Thereupon she stood aside, pale with jealousy, and allowed the provost -and his people, as well as their prisoners, to pass without another -word. - -"What does this mean, and why have you abused this boy so?" demanded -Madame d'Etampes, when she saw Ascanio bound, and pale and covered with -blood. "Unbind him! unbind him!" - -"Madame," said the provost, "this same boy resisted us desperately; he -wounded two of my men; he is his master's accomplice without doubt, and -it seems to me advisable to take him to some safe place." - -"And furthermore," said D'Orbec in an undertone to the duchess, "he so -strongly resembles the Italian page I saw at your reception, and who was -present throughout our conversation, that, if he were not dressed -differently, and if I had not heard him speak the language which you -assured me the page could not understand, upon my honor, Madame la -Duchesse, I would swear it was he!" - -"You are right. Monsieur le Prévôt," said Madame d'Etampes hastily, -thinking better of the order she had given to set Ascanio at liberty; -"you are right, this young man may be dangerous. Make sure of his -person." - -"To the Châtelet with the prisoner," said the provost. - -"And we," said the duchess, at whose side Colombe, still unconscious, -had been placed,--"we, messieurs, will return to the Hôtel d'Etampes!" - -A moment later the hoof-beats of a galloping horse rang out upon the -pavement. It was little Jehan, riding off at full speed to tell Cellini -what had taken place at the Hôtel de Nesle. - -Ascanio, meanwhile, was committed to the Châtelet without having seen -the duchess, and in ignorance of the part played by her in the event -which destroyed his hopes. - - - - -X - - -THE RIVALS - - -Madame d'Etampes, who had been so desirous to see Colombe at close -quarters ever since she had first heard of her, had her heart's desire -at last: the poor child lay there before her in a swoon. - -The jealous duchess did not once cease to gaze at her throughout the -whole journey to the Hôtel d'Etampes. Her eyes, blazing with anger when -she saw how beautiful she was, scrutinized each of her charms, analyzed -each feature, and passed in review one after another all the elements -which went to make up the perfect beauty of the pale-cheeked girl who -was at last in her power and under her hand. The two women, who were -inspired with the same passion and disputing possession of the same -heart, were face to face at last. One all-powerful and malevolent, the -other weak, but beloved; one with her splendor, the other with her -youth; one with her passion, the other with her innocence. Separated by -so many obstacles, they had finally come roughly in contact, and the -duchess's velvet robe brushed against Colombe's simple white gown. - -Though Colombe was in a swoon, Anne was not the least pale of the two. -Doubtless her mute contemplation of her companion's loveliness caused -her pride to despair, and destroyed her hopes; for while, in her own -despite, she murmured, "They told me truly, she is lovely, very lovely!" -her hand, which held Colombe's, pressed it so convulsively that the -young girl was brought to her senses by the pain, and opened her great -eyes, saying,-- - -"Oh, madame, you hurt me!" - -As soon as the duchess saw that Colombe's eyes were open, she let her -hand fall. But the consciousness of pain preceded the return of the -faculty of thought. For some seconds after she uttered the words, she -continued to gaze wonderingly at the duchess, as if she could not -collect her thoughts. - -"Who are you, madame," she said at last, "and whither are you taking -me?" Then she suddenly drew away from her, crying,-- - -"Ah! you are the Duchesse d'Etampes. I remember, I remember!" - -"Hush!" returned Anne imperiously. "Hush! Soon we shall be alone, and -you can wonder and cry out at your ease." - -These words were accompanied by a stern, haughty glance; but it was a -sense of her own dignity, and not the glance, which imposed silence upon -Colombe. She said not another word until they reached the Hôtel -d'Etampes, where, at a sign from the duchess, she followed her to her -oratory. - -When the rivals were at last alone and face to face, they eyed each -other for one or two minutes without speaking, but with very different -expressions. Colombe was calm, for her trust in Providence and in -Benvenuto sustained her. Anne was furious at her calmness, but although -her fury was clearly evidenced by the contortion of her features, she -did not give expression to it, for she relied upon her imperious will, -and her unbounded power to crush the feeble creature before her. She was -the first to break the silence. - -"Well, my young friend," she said, in a tone which left no doubt as to -the bitterness of the thought, although the words were soft, "you are -restored to your father, at last. It is well, but allow me first of all -to compliment you upon your courage; you are--bold for your age, my -child." - -"I have God on my side, madame," rejoined Colombe simply. - -"What god do you refer to, mademoiselle? Oh, the god Mars, of course!" -returned the duchess with one of those impertinent winks which she so -often had occasion to resort to at court. - -"I know but one God, madame; the Eternal God, merciful and protecting, -who teaches charity in prosperity, and humility in grandeur. Woe to them -who know not the God of whom I speak, for there will come a day when He -will not know them." - -"Very good, mademoiselle, very good!" said the duchess. "The situation -is admirably adapted for a moral lecture, and I would congratulate you -upon your happy choice of a subject if I did not prefer to think that -you are trying to excuse your wantonness by impudence." - -"In truth, madame," replied Colombe, without bitterness, but with a -slight shrug of the shoulders, "I do not seek to excuse myself to you, -because I am as yet ignorant of any right on your part to accuse me. -When my father chooses to question me, I shall reply with respect and -sorrow. If he reproves me I will try to justify myself; but until then, -Madame la Duchesse, permit me to hold my peace." - -"I understand that my voice annoys you, and you would prefer, would you -not, to remain alone with your thoughts and think at leisure of the man -you love?" - -"No noise, however annoying it may be, can prevent me from thinking of -him, madame, especially when he is unhappy." - -"You dare confess that you love him?" - -"That is the difference between us, madame; you love him, and dare not -confess it." - -"Impudent hussy!" cried the duchess, "upon my word I believe she defies -me." - -"Alas! no," replied Colombe softly, "I do not defy you, I reply, simply -because you force me to reply. Leave me alone with my thoughts, and I -will leave you alone with your schemes." - -"Very good! since you drive me to it, child, since you imagine that you -are strong enough to contend with me, since you confess your love, I -will confess mine; but at the same time I will confess my hatred. Yes, -I love Ascanio, and I hate you! After all, why should I dissemble with -you, the only person to whom I may say whatever I choose? for you are -the only one who, whatever you say, will not be believed. Yes, I love -Ascanio." - -"In that case I pity you, madame," rejoined Colombe softly, "for Ascanio -loves me." - -"Yes, it is true, Ascanio does love you; but by seduction if I can, by -falsehood if I must, by a crime if it becomes necessary, I will steal -his love away from you, mark that! I am Anne d'Heilly, Duchesse -d'Etampes!" - -"Ascanio, madame, will love the one who loves him best." - -"In God's name hear her!" cried the duchess, exasperated by such sublime -confidence. "Would not one think that her love is unique, and that no -other love can be compared to it?" - -"I do not say that, madame. For the reason that I love, I know that -other hearts may love as I do, but I doubt if yours is one of them." - -"What would you do for him? Come, let us see, you who boast of this love -of yours which mine can never equal. What have you sacrificed for him -thus far? an obscure life and wearisome solitude?" - -"No, madame, but my peace of mind." - -"You have given him preference over what? Comte d'Orbec's absurd love?" - -"No, madame, but my filial obedience." - -"What have you to give him? Can you make him rich, powerful, feared?" - -"No, madame, but I hope to make him happy." - -"Ah!" exclaimed the duchess; "it's a very different matter with me, and -I do much more for him: I sacrifice a king's affection; I lay wealth, -titles, and honors at his feet; I bring him a kingdom to govern." - -"Yes," said Colombe with a smile, "it's true that your love gives him -everything that is not love." - -"Enough, enough of this insulting comparison!" cried the duchess -violently, feeling that she was losing ground step by step. - -Thereupon ensued a momentary pause, during which Colombe seemed to feel -no embarrassment, while Madame d'Etampes succeeded in concealing hers -only by revealing her anger. However, her features gradually relaxed, -her faee assumed a milder expression, lightened by a gleam of real or -feigned benevolence. She was the first to reopen the conflict which she -did not propose should end otherwise than in a triumph. - -"Let us see, Colombe," said she in a tone that was almost affectionate, -"if some one should bid you sacrifice your life for him, what would you -do?" - -"Ah! I would give it to him blissfully!" - -"And so would I!" cried the duchess with an accent which proved the -violence of her passion, if not the sincerity of the sacrifice. - -"But your honor," she continued, "would you sacrifice that as well as -your life?" - -"If by my honor you mean my reputation, yes; if by my honor you mean my -virtue, no." - -"What! you do not belong to him? is he not your lover?" - -"He is my _fiancé_, madame; that is all." - -"Oh, she doesn't love him!" rejoined the duchess, "she doesn't love -him! She prefers her honor, a mere empty word, to him." - -"If some one were to say to you, madame," retorted Colombe, angered in -spite of her sweet disposition, "if some one were to say to you, -'Renounce for his sake your titles and your grandeur; abandon the king -for him,--not in secret, that would be too easy,--but publicly.' If some -one were to say to you, 'Anne d'Heilly, Duchesse d'Etampes, leave your -palace, your luxurious surroundings, and your courtiers for his humble -artist's studio'?" - -"I would refuse in his own interest," replied the duchess, as if it were -impossible to say what was false beneath the profound, penetrating gaze -of her rival. - -"You would refuse?" - -"Yes." - -"Ah! she doesn't love him!" cried Colombe; "she prefers honors, mere -chimeras, to him." - -"But when I tell you that I wish to retain my position for his sake," -returned the duchess, exasperated anew by this fresh triumph of her -rival,--"when I tell you that I wish to retain my honors so that he may -share them? All men care for them sooner or later." - -"Yes," replied Colombe, smiling; "but Ascanio is not one of them." - -"Hush!" cried Anne, stamping her foot in passion. - -Thus had the cunning and powerful duchess signally failed to gain the -upper hand over a mere girl, whom she expected to intimidate simply by -raising her voice. To her questions, angry or satirical, Colombe had -made answer with a modest tranquillity which disconcerted her. She -realized that the blind impulsion of her hatred had led her astray, so -she changed her tactics. To tell the truth, she had not reckoned upon -the possession of so much beauty or so much wit by her rival, and, -finding that she could not bend her, she determined to take her by -surprise. - -Colombe as we have seen, was not alarmed by the double explosion of -Madame d'Etampes's wrath, but simply took refuge in cold and dignified -silence. The duchess, however, following out the new plan she had -adopted, now approached her with her most fascinating smile, and took -her affectionately by the hand. - -"Forgive me, my child," she said, "but I fear I lost my temper; you must -not bear me ill will for it; you have the advantage of me in so many -ways, that it's natural that I should be jealous. Alas! you, no doubt, -like everybody else, consider me a wicked woman. But, in truth, my -destiny is at fault, not I. Forgive me, therefore; because we both -happen to love Ascanio is no reason why we should hate each other. And -then he loves you alone, so 't is your duty to be indulgent. Let us be -sisters, what say you? Let us talk frankly together, and I will try to -efface from your mind the unfortunate impression which my foolish anger -may have left there." - -"Madame!" said Colombe, with reserve, and withdrawing her hand with an -instinctive movement of repulsion; but she added at once, "Speak, I am -listening." - -"Oh," said Madame d'Etampes playfully, and as if she understood -perfectly her companion's reserve, "have no fear, little savage, I do -not ask for your friendship without a guaranty. In order that you may -know what manner of woman I am, that you may know me as I know myself, I -propose to tell you in two words the story of my life. My heart has -little to do with my story, and we poor women, who are called great -ladies, are so often slandered! Ah! envy does very wrong to speak ill of -us when we are fitter subjects for compassion. For instance, what is -your judgment of me, my child? Be frank. You look upon me as a lost -woman, do you not?" - -Colombe made a gesture indicative of the embarrassment she felt at the -idea of replying to such a question. - -"But if I am a lost woman, is it my fault? You in your happiness, -Colombe, must not be too hard upon those who have suffered,--you who -have lived hitherto in innocent solitude, and do not know what it is to -be reared upon ambitious dreams: for they who are destined to that -torture, like victims decked out with flowers, see only the bright side -of life. There is no question of love, simply of pleading. So it was -that from my earliest youth my thoughts were all bent upon fascinating -the king; the beauty which God gives to woman to be exchanged for true -love, I was forced to exchange for a title; they made of my charms a -snare. Tell me now, Colombe, what could be the fate of a poor child, -taken in hand before she has learned to know the difference between good -and evil, and who is told, 'The good is evil, the evil is good'? And so, -you see, although others despair of me, I do not despair of myself. -Perhaps God will forgive me, for no one stood beside me to tell me of -him. What was there for me to do, alone as I was, and weak and -defenceless? Craft and deceit have made up my whole life from that time -on. And yet I was not made to play such a hideous rôle; the proof is -that I love Ascanio, and that when I found that I loved him I was happy -and ashamed at the same time. Now tell me, my pure, darling child, do -you understand me?" - -"Yes." innocently replied Colombe, deceived by this false good faith, -this lie masquerading in the guise of truth. - -"Then you will have pity on me," cried the duchess; "you will let me -love Ascanio from a distance, all by myself, hopelessly; and in that way -I shall not be your rival, for he will not care for me; and, in return, -I, who know the world and its snares, its pitfalls and deceit, will take -the place of the mother you have lost. I will guide you, I will save -you. Now you see that you can trust me, for you save my life. A child in -whose heart the passions of a woman were sown, that in brief is my past. -My present you see for yourself; it is the shame of being the declared -mistress of a king. My future is my love for Ascanio,--not his for me, -because, as you have said, and as I have very often told myself, Ascanio -will never love me; but for the very reason that love will remain -pure it will purify me. Now it is your turn, to speak, to open your -heart, to tell me everything. Tell me your story, dear girl." - -"My story, madame, is very brief and very simple," said Colombe; "it may -all be summed up in three loves. I have loved, I love, and I shall -love,--God, my father, and Ascanio. But in the past my love for Ascanio, -whom I had not then met, was a dream; at present it is a cause of -suffering; in the future, it is a hope." - -"Very good," said the duchess, restraining her jealousy, and forcing -back her tears; "but do not half confide in me, Colombe. What do you -mean to do now? How can you, poor child, contend with two such powerful -wills as your father's and Comte d'Orbec's? To say nothing of the king's -having seen you and fallen in love with you." - -"O mon Dieu!" murmured Colombe. - -"But as this passion on the king's part was the work of the Duchesse -d'Etampes, your rival, your friend, Anne d'Heilly will deliver you from -it. So we won't disturb ourselves about the king: but your father and -the count must be reckoned with. Their ambition is less easy to balk -than the commonplace fancy of the king." - -"Oh, do not be half kind!" cried Colombe; "save me from the others as -well as from the king." - -"I know but one way," said Madame d'Etampes, seeming to reflect. - -"What is that?" - -"You will take fright, and refuse to adopt it." - -"Oh, if only courage is required, tell me what it is." - -"Come here, and listen to me," said the duchess, affectionately drawing -Colombe to a seat upon a stool beside her arm-chair, and passing her arm -around her waist. "Don't be alarmed, I beg, at the first words I say." - -"Is it very terrifying?" Colombe asked. - -"Your virtue is unbending, and unspotted, my dear little one, but we -live, alas! at a time and in a society where such fascinating innocence -is but a danger the more, for it places you, without means of defence, -at the mercy of your enemies, whom you cannot fight with the weapons -they use to attack you. So make an effort, descend from the heights to -which your dreams have transported you, to the lower level of reality. -You said just now that you would sacrifice your reputation for Ascanio. -I do not ask so much as that, but simply that you sacrifice the -appearance of fidelity to him. It is pure madness for you, alone and -helpless, to struggle against your destiny: for you, the daughter of a -gentleman, to dream of marriage with a goldsmith's apprentice! Come, -trust the advice of a sincere friend; do not resist them, but let them -have their way: remain at heart the spotless fiancé, the wife of -Ascanio, and give your hand to Comte d'Orbec. His ambitious schemes -require that you should bear his name; but once you are Comtesse -d'Orbec, you can easily overturn his detestable schemes, for you have -only to raise your voice and complain. Whereas now, who would take your -part in the contest? No one: even I cannot assist you against the -legitimate authority of a father, while, if it were a question of -foiling your husband's combinations, you would soon see me at work. -Reflect upon what I say. To remain your own mistress, obey; to become -independent, pretend to abandon your liberty. Strong in the thought that -Ascanio is your lawful husband, and that union with any other is mere -sacrilege, you may do what your heart bids you, and your conscience will -be at rest, while the world, in whose eyes appearances will be -preserved, will take your part." - -"Madame! madame!" murmured Colombe, rising and straightening herself -against the duchess's arm, as she sought to detain her, "I am not sure -that I understand you aright, but it seems to me that you are advising -me to do an infamous thing!" - -"What do you say?" cried the duchess. - -"I say that virtue is not so subtle as all that, madame; I say that your -sophistries make me blush for you; I say that beneath the cloak of -friendship with which you conceal your hatred, I see the net you have -spread for me. You wish to dishonor me in Ascanio's eyes, do you not, -because you know that Ascanio will never love or will cease to love the -woman he despises?" - -"Well, yes!" said the duchess, bursting forth at last; "I am weary of -wearing a mask. Ah! you will not fall into the net I have spread, you -say? Very good, then you will fall into the abyss I will push you into. -Hear this: Whether you will or no, you shall marry D'Orbec!" - -"In that case the force put upon me will be my excuse, and by yielding, -if I do yield, I shall not have profaned my heart's religion." - -"Pray, do you mean to resist?" - -"By every means in the power of a poor girl. I warn you that I will say -No! to the end. You may put my hand in that man's, I will say No! You -may drag me before the altar, I will say No! You may force me to kneel -at the priest's feet, and to the priest's face I will say No!" - -"What matters it? Ascanio will believe that you have consented to the -marriage that is forced upon you." - -"For that reason I hope I may not have to submit to it, madame." - -"Upon whom do you rely to come to your assistance?" - -"Upon God above, and upon a man on earth." - -"But the man is a prisoner." - -"The man is free, madame." - -"Why, who is the man, I pray to know?" - -"Benvenuto Cellini." - -The duchess ground her teeth when she heard the name of the man she -considered her deadliest foe. But as she was on the point of repeating -the name, accompanied by some terrible imprecation, a page raised the -portière and announced the king. - -At that announcement she darted from the room to meet François I. with -a smile upon her lips, and led him to her own apartments, motioning to -her people to keep watch upon Colombe. - - - - -XI - - -BENVENUTO AT BAY - - -An hour after the imprisonment of Ascanio and the abduction of Colombe, -Benvenuto Cellini rode along the Quai des Augustins at a footpace. He -had just parted from the king and the court, whom he had amused -throughout the journey by innumerable tales, told as he only could tell -them, mingled with anecdotes of his own adventures. But when he was once -more alone he became thoughtful and abstracted; the frivolous talker -gave place to the profound dreamer. While his hand shook the rein, his -brain was busily at work; he dreamed of the casting of his Jupiter, upon -which depended his dear Ascanio's happiness as well as his artistic -fame; the bronze was fermenting in his brain before being melted in the -furnace. Outwardly he was calm. - -When he reached the door of the Hôtel de Nesle he stopped for a moment, -amazed not to hear the sound of hammering; the blackened walls of the -château were mute and gloomy, as if no living thing were within. Twice -the master rapped without obtaining a reply; at the third summons -Scozzone opened the door. - -"Ah, there you are, master!" she cried when she saw that it was -Benvenuto. "Alas! why did you not return two hours earlier?" - -"What has happened, in God's name?" demanded Cellini. - -"The provost, Comte d'Orbec, and the Duchesse d'Etampes have been here." - -"Well?" - -"They made a search." - -"And then?" - -"They found Colombe in the head of the statue of Mars." - -"Impossible!" - -"The Duchesse d'Etampes carried Colombe home with her, and the provost -ordered Ascanio to be taken to the Châtelet." - -"Ah! we have been betrayed!" cried Benvenuto striking his hand against -his forehead and stamping upon the ground. As his first thought on every -occasion was of vengeance, he left his horse to find his own way to the -stable, and darted into the studio. - -"Come hither, all of you," he cried,--"all!" - -Thereupon each one had to undergo an examination in due form, but they -were all equally ignorant, not only of Colombe's hiding place, but of -the means by which her enemies had succeeded in discovering it. There -was not a single one, including Pagolo, upon whom the master's suspicion -fell first of all, who did not exculpate himself in a way that left no -doubt in Benvenuto's mind. It is needless to say that he did not for an -instant suspect Hermann, and Simon-le-Gaucher for no more than an -instant. - -When he became convinced that he could learn nothing in that direction, -Benvenuto, with the rapidity of decision which was usual with him, made -up his mind what course to pursue; and having made sure that his sword -was at his side and that his dagger moved easily in its sheath, he -ordered everybody to remain at home in order to be at hand in case of -need. He then left the studio, and hurried across the courtyard into the -street. - -His features, his gait, and his every movement, bore the stamp of -intense excitement. A thousand thoughts, a thousand schemes, a thousand -painful reflections, were jostling one another confusedly in his head. -Ascanio failed him at the moment when his presence was most essential, -for all his apprentices, with the most intelligent of them all at their -head, were none too many for the casting of his Jupiter. Colombe was -abducted; and Colombe in the midst of her foes might lose heart. The -serene, sublime confidence which served the poor child as a bulwark -against evil thoughts and perverse designs would perhaps grow weaker, or -abandon her altogether, in such a maze of plots and threats. With all -the rest, he remembered that one day he had spoken to Ascanio of the -possibility of some cruel vengeance on the part of the Duchesse -d'Etampes, whereupon Ascanio replied with a smile,-- - -"She will not dare to ruin me, for with a word I could ruin her." - -Benvenuto sought to learn the secret, but Ascanio would make no other -reply to his questions than this:-- - -"To-day it would be treachery, master. Wait until the day comes when it -will be only a legitimate means of defence." - -Benvenuto understood the delicacy which closed his mouth, and waited. -How it was necessary that he should see Ascanio, and his first endeavors -should be directed to that end. - -With Benvenuto the wish led at once to the decision necessarily to -gratify it. He had hardly said to himself that he must see Ascanio, -before he was knocking at the door of the Châtelet. The wicket opened, -and one of the provost's people asked Cellini who he was. Another man -was standing behind him in the shadow. - -"My name is Benvenuto Cellini," replied the goldsmith. - -"What do you wish?" - -"To see a prisoner who is confined herein." - -"What is his name?" - -"Ascanio." - -"Ascanio is in secret and can see no one." - -"Why is he in secret?" - -"Because he is charged with a crime punishable with death." - -"An additional reason why I should see him," cried Benvenuto. - -"Your logic is most extraordinary, Signor Cellini," said the man who was -standing in the background, in a jeering tone, "and doesn't pass -current at the Châtelet." - -"Who laughs when I proffer a request? Who jeers when I implore a favor?" -cried Benvenuto. - -"I," said the voice,--"I, Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris. To -each his turn, Signor Cellini. Every contest consists of a game and -revenge. You won the first bout, and the second is mine. You illegally -took my property, I legally take your apprentice. You refused to return -the one to me, so never fear, I will not return the other to you. You -are gallant and enterprising; you have an army of devoted retainers. -Come on, my stormer of citadels! Come on, my scaler of walls! Come on, -my burster in of doors! Come and take the Châtelet! I am waiting for -you." - -With that the wicket was closed. - -Benvenuto, with a roar, darted at the massive iron door, but could make -no impression upon it with the united efforts of his feet and hands. - -"Come on, my friend, come on, strike, strike!" cried the provost from -the other side of the door; "you will only succeed in making a noise, -and if you make too much, beware the watch, beware the archers! Ah! the -Châtelet isn't like the Hôtel de Nesle, you'll find; it belongs to -our lord the king, and we shall see if you are more powerful in France -than the king." - -Benvenuto cast his eyes about and saw upon the quay an uprooted -mile-stone which two ordinary men would have found difficulty in -lifting. He walked to where it lay picked it up and put it on his -shoulder as easily as a child could do the same with a pebble. He had -taken but a step or two, however, when he reflected that, when the door -was broken in, he should find the guard waiting for him, and the result -would be that he should himself be imprisoned,--imprisoned when -Ascanio's liberty was dependent upon his own. He therefore dropped the -stone, which was driven some inches into the ground by its own weight. - -Doubtless the provost was watching him from some invisible loophole, for -he heard a burst of laughter. - -Benvenuto hurried away at full speed, lest he should yield to the desire -to dash his head against the accursed door. - -He went directly to the Hôtel d'Etampes. - -All was not lost, if, failing to see Ascanio, he could see Colombe. -Perhaps Ascanio, in the overflowing of his heart, had confided to his -beloved the secret he had refused to confide to his master. - -All went well at first. The gateway of the mansion was open; he crossed -the courtyard and entered the reception-room, where stood a tall footman -with lace on all the seams of his livery,--a sort of colossus four feet -wide and six high. - -"Who are you?" he demanded, eying the goldsmith from head to foot. - -At another time Benvenuto would have answered his insolent stare by one -of his customary violent outbursts, but it was essential that he should -see Colombe. Ascanio's welfare was at stake: so he restrained himself. - -"I am Benvenuto Cellini, the Florentine goldsmith," he replied. - -"What do you wish?" - -"To see Mademoiselle Colombe." - -"Mademoiselle Colombe is not visible." - -"Why is she not visible?" - -"Because her father, Messire d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, gave her -in charge to Madame d'Etampes, and requested her to keep an eye upon -her." - -"But I am a friend." - -"An additional reason for suspecting you." - -"I tell you that I must see her," said Benvenuto, beginning to get warm. - -"And I tell you that you shall not see her," retorted the servant. - -"Is Madame d'Etampes visible?" - -"No more than Mademoiselle Colombe." - -"Not even to me, her jeweller?" - -"Less to you than to any other person." - -"Do you mean that orders have been given not to admit me?" - -"Just so," replied the servant; "you have put your finger on the spot." - -"Do you know that I am a strange man, my friend," said Benvenuto, with -the terrible laugh which ordinarily preceded his outbursts of wrath; -"and that the place I am forbidden to enter is the place I am accustomed -to enter?" - -"How will you do it, eh? You amuse me." - -"When there is a door, and a blackguard like you in front of it, for -instance--" - -"Well?" said the valet. - -"Well!" retorted Benvenuto, suiting the action to the word, "I overturn -the blackguard, and break in the door." - -And with a blow of his fist he laid the valet sprawling on the floor, -and burst in the door with a blow of his foot. - -"Help!" cried the servant; "help!" - -But the poor devil's cry of distress was not needed; as Benvenuto passed -into the reception-room he found himself confronted by six others, -evidently stationed there to receive him. He at once divined that Madame -d'Etampes had been informed of his return, and had taken measures -accordingly. - -Under any other circumstances, armed as he was with dagger and sword, -Benvenuto would have fallen upon them, and would probably have given a -good account of himself, but such an act of violence in the abode of the -king's mistress might have deplorable results. For the second time, -contrary to his custom, common sense carried the day over wrath, and, -being certain that he could at all events have audience of the king, to -whose presence, as we know, he had the privilege of being admitted at -any hour, he replaced his sword, already half drawn, in its scabbard, -retraced his steps, pausing at every movement in his rear, like a lion -in retreat, walked slowly across the courtyard, and bent his steps -toward the Louvre. - -Benvenuto once more assumed a calm demeanor, and walked with measured -step, but his tranquillity was only apparent. Great drops of -perspiration were rolling down his cheeks, and his wrath was rising -mountain high within his breast, his superhuman efforts to master it -making him suffer the more. Indeed, nothing could be more utterly -antipathetic to his impulsive nature than delay, than the wretched -obstacle of a closed door, or the vulgar insolence of a lackey. Strong -men who command their thoughts are never so near despair as when they -come in collision with some material obstacle and struggle to no purpose -to surmount it. Benvenuto would have given ten years of his life to have -some man jostle him, and as he walked along he raised his head from time -to time and gazed threateningly at those who passed, as if he would -say:-- - -"Isn't there some unfortunate wretch among you who is tired of life? If -so, let him apply to me, I'm his man!" - -A quarter of an hour later he reached the Louvre and went at once to the -apartment set apart for the pages, requesting immediate speech of his -Majesty. It was his purpose to tell François the whole story, and make -an appeal to his loyalty, and, if he could not obtain Ascanio's release, -to solicit permission to see him. As he came through the streets he -considered what language he would use to the king, and as he had some -pretensions to eloquence he was well content with the little speech he -had prepared. The excitement, the terrible news he had learned so -suddenly, the insults heaped upon him, the obstacles he could not -overcome, all these had combined to set the blood on fire in the -irascible artist's veins: his temples throbbed, his heart beat quickly, -his hands shook. He did not himself know the extent of the feverish -agitation which multiplied the energy of his body and his heart. A whole -day is sometimes concentrated in one minute. - -In such a frame of mind was Benvenuto when he appealed to a page for -admission to the king's apartments. - -"The king is not visible," was the young man's reply. - -"Do you not recognize me?" asked Benvenuto in surprise. - -"Perfectly." - -"I am Benvenuto Cellini, and his Majesty is always visible to me." - -"It is precisely because you are Benvenuto Cellini," returned the page, -"that you cannot enter." - -Benvenuto was thunderstruck. - -"Ah! is it you, M. de Termes?" continued the page, addressing a courtier -who arrived just behind the goldsmith. "Pass in, pass in, Comte de la -Paye; pass in, Marquis des Prés." - -"And what of me! what of me, pray?" cried Benvenuto, turning white with -anger. - -"You? The king, when he returned ten minutes since, said, 'If that -insolent Florentine makes his appearance, let him know that I do not -choose to receive him, and advise him to be submissive unless he desires -to make a comparison between the Castle of San Angelo and the -Châtelet." - -"Help me, patience! Oh help me!" muttered Benvenuto in a hollow voice: -"Vrai Dieu! I am not accustomed to being made to wait by kings. The -Vatican's no less a place than the Louvre, and Leo X. is no less great a -man than François I., and yet I was not kept waiting at the door of the -Vatican, nor at that of Leo X. But I understand; it's like this: the -king was with Madame d'Etampes,--yes, the king has just come from his -mistress and has been put on his guard by her against me. Yes, that's -the way it is: patience for Ascanio! patience for Colombe!" - -Notwithstanding his praiseworthy resolution to be patient, however, -Benvenuto was obliged to lean against a pillar for support: his heart -was swollen to bursting, and his legs trembled under him. This last -insult not only wounded him in his pride, but in his friendship. His -soul was filled with bitterness and despair, and his clenched hands, his -frown, and his tightly closed lips bore witness to the violence of his -suffering. - -However, in a moment or two he recovered himself, tossed back the hair -which was falling over his brow, and left the palace with firm and -resolute step. All who were present watched him with something very like -respect as he walked away. - -Benvenuto's apparent tranquillity was due to the marvellous power he -possessed over himself, for he was in reality more confused and -desperate than a stag at bay. He wandered through the streets for some -time, heedless as to where he might be, hearing nothing but the buzzing -of the blood in his ears, and vaguely wondering, as one does in -intoxication, whether he was awake or asleep. It was the third time he -had been shown the door within an hour. It was the third time that doors -had been shut in his face,--in his face, Benvenuto's, the favorite of -princes, popes, and kings, before whom all doors were thrown open to -their fullest extent when his footsteps were heard approaching! And yet, -notwithstanding this threefold affront, he had not the right to give way -to his anger; he must dissemble, and hide his humiliation until he had -rescued Colombe and Ascanio. The throng through which he passed, -thoughtless or full of business, seemed to him to read upon his brow the -story of the repeated insults he had undergone. It was perhaps the only -moment in his whole life when his great heart lost faith in itself. But -after ten or fifteen minutes of this aimless, blind wandering, his will -reasserted itself, and he raised his head: his depression left him, and -the fever returned. - -"Go to!" he cried aloud, to such a degree did his mind dominate his -body; "go to! in vain do they crowd the man, they cannot throw down the -artist! Come, sculptor, and make them repent of their base deeds when -they admire thy handiwork! Come, Jupiter, and prove that thou art still, -not the king of the gods alone, but the master of mankind!" - -As he spoke, Benvenuto, acting upon an impulse stronger than himself, -bent his step toward the Tournelles, that former royal residence, where -the old constable, Anne de Montmorency, still dwelt. - -The effervescent artist was required to await his turn for an hour -before he was admitted to the presence of the warrior minister of -François I., who was besieged by a mob of courtiers and petitioners. At -last he was introduced. - -Anne de Montmorency was a man of great height, little if any bent by -age, cold, stiff, and spare, with a piercing glance and an abrupt manner -of speaking; he was forever scolding, and no one ever saw him in good -humor. He would have looked upon it as a humiliation to be surprised -with a laugh upon his face. How had this morose old man succeeded in -making himself agreeable to the amiable and gracious prince, who then -governed France? It is something that can be explained in no other way -than by the law of contrasts. François I. had a way of sending away -satisfied those whose petitions he refused; the constable, on the other -hand, arranged matters in such a way that those whom he gratified went -away in a rage. He was only moderately endowed in the way of genius, but -he won the king's confidence by his military inflexibility and his -dictatorial gravity. - -When Benvenuto entered, Montmorency was, as usual, striding back and -forth in his apartment. He nodded in response to the goldsmith's -salutation; then paused in his walk, and, fixing his piercing gaze upon -him, inquired,-- - -"Who are you?" - -"Benvenuto Cellini." - -"Your profession? - -"Goldsmith to the king," replied the artist, wondering to find that his -first reply did not make the second question unnecessary. - -"Ah! yes, yes," growled the constable. "I recognize you. Well, what do -you want, what have you to ask, my friend? That I give you an order? If -you have counted on that, your time is thrown away, I give you warning. -Upon my word, I have no patience with this mania for art which is raging -so everywhere to-day. One would say it was an epidemic that has attacked -every one except myself. No, sculpture doesn't interest me in the very -least, Master Goldsmith, do you hear? So apply to others, and good -night." - -Benvenuto made a gesture, but before he could speak, the constable -continued:-- - -"Mon Dieu! don't let that discourage you. You will find plenty of -courtiers who like to ape the king, and noodles who pose as -connoisseurs. As for me, hark ye? I stick to my trade, which is to wage -war, and I tell you frankly that I much prefer a good, healthy -peasant-woman, who gives me a child, that is to say, a soldier, every -ten months, than a wretched sculptor, who wastes his time turning out a -crowd of men of bronze who are good for nothing but to raise the price -of cannon." - -"Monseigneur," said Benvenuto, who had listened to this long heretical -harangue with a degree of patience which amazed himself, "I am not here -to speak upon artistic subjects, but upon a matter of honor." - -"Ah! that's a different matter. What do you desire of me? Tell me -quickly." - -"Do you remember, monseigneur, that his Majesty once said to me in your -presence that, on the day when I should bring him the statue of Jupiter -cast in bronze, he would grant whatever favor I might ask, and that he -bade you, monseigneur, and Chancelier Poyet remind him of his promise in -the event of his forgetting it?" - -"I remember. What then?" - -"The moment is at hand, monseigneur, when I shall implore you to provide -a memory for the king. Will you do it?" - -"Is that what you come here to ask me, monsieur?" cried the constable; -"have you intruded upon me to beg me to do something I am bound to do?" - -"Monseigneur!" - -"You're an impertinent fellow, Master Goldsmith. Understand that the -Connétable Anne de Montmorency does not need to be reminded to be an -honorable man. The king bade me remember for him, and that is a -precaution he might well take more frequently, with all due respect; I -shall do as he bade me, even though the reminder be annoying to him. -Adieu, Master Cellini, and make room for others." - -With that the constable turned his back on Benvenuto, and gave the -signal for another petitioner to be introduced. - -Benvenuto saluted the constable, whose somewhat brutal frankness was not -displeasing to him, and took his leave. Still agitated, and impelled by -the same feverish excitement and the same burning thoughts, he betook -himself to the abode of Chancelier Poyet, near Porte Saint-Antoine, only -a short distance away. - -Chancelier Poyet formed a most striking and complete contrast, moral and -physical, to Anne de Montmorency, who was always crabbed and always -incased in armor from head to foot. He was polished, shrewd, crafty, -buried in his furs, lost, so to speak, in the ermine. Naught could be -seen of him save a bald head surrounded by a grizzly fringe of hair, -intelligent, restless eyes, thin lips, and a white hand. He was quite as -honest perhaps as the constable, but much less outspoken. - -There again Benvenuto was forced to wait for half an hour. But his -friends would not have recognized him; he had accustomed himself to -waiting. - -"Monseigneur," he said, when he was at last ushered into the -chancellor's presence, "I have come to remind you of a promise the king -made me in your presence, and constituted you not only the witness -thereof but the guarantor." - -"I know what you refer to, Messire Benvenuto," said Poyet, "and I am -ready, if you wish, to bring his Majesty's promise to his mind; but it -is my duty to inform you that, from a legal standpoint, you have no -claim upon him, for an undertaking indefinite in form, and left to your -discretion, cannot be enforced before the courts, and never affords a -cause of action; wherefore, if the king satisfies your demand, he will -do so purely as a matter of generosity and good faith." - -"That is as I understand it, monseigneur," said Benvenuto, "and I simply -have to request you when the occasion arises to fulfil the duty his -Majesty intrusted to you, leaving the rest to his good will." - -"Very well," said Poyet, "I am at your service, my dear monsieur, to -that extent." - -Benvenuto thereupon took his leave of the chancellor, with his mind more -at ease, but his blood was still boiling, and his hands were trembling -with fever. His thoughts, excited by the annoyance and irritation and -insults to which he had been subjected, burst forth at last in full -freedom, after their long restraint. Space and time no longer existed -for the mind which they overflowed, and as Benvenuto strode along toward -his home he saw in a sort of luminous dream Del Moro's house, Stefana, -the Castle of San Angelo, and Colombe's garden. At the same time, he -felt that his strength became more than human, and he seemed to be -living in another world. - -He was still laboring under this intense exaltation of feeling when he -entered the Hôtel de Nesle. All the apprentices were awaiting his -return, in accordance with his commands. - -"How for the casting of the Jupiter, my children!" he cried from the -doorway, and darted into the studio. - -"Good morning, master," said Jacques Aubry, who had come in behind -Cellini, singing joyously as his wont was. "You neither saw nor heard -me, did you? For five minutes I have been following you along the quay, -calling you; you walked so fast that I am quite out of breath. In God's -name, what's the matter with you all? You are as sober as judges." - -"To the casting!" continued Benvenuto, without answering Aubry, although -he had seen him out of the corner of his eye, and listened to him with -one ear. "To the casting! Everything depends upon that. Merciful God, -shall we be successful? Ah! my friend," he continued, abruptly, -addressing Aubry,--"ah, my dear Jacques, what sad news awaited me on my -return, and what a cruel advantage they took of my absence!" - -"What is the matter, master?" cried Aubry, really disturbed by Cellini's -excitement and the dejection of the apprentices. - -"Above all things, boys, throw in plenty of dry spruce. You know that I -have been laying in a stock of it for six months. The matter, my good -Jacques, is that Ascanio is under lock and key at the Châtelet; and -that Colombe, the provost's daughter, that lovely girl whom Ascanio -loves, as you know, is in the hands of the Duchesse d'Etampes, her -enemy: they found her in the statue of Mars where I had hidden her. But -we will rescue them. Well, well, where are you going, Hermann? the -wood's in the yard, not in the cellar." - -"Ascanio arrested!" cried Aubry; "Colombe carried off!" - -"Yes, yes, some villanous spy must have watched them, poor children, and -surprised a secret which I had kept even from you, dear Jacques. But if -I discover the knave!--To the casting, boys, to the casting!--That isn't -all. The king refuses to see me, whom he called his friend. So much for -the friendship of men: to be sure kings are not men, but kings. The -result was that I went to the Louvre to no purpose; I could not get -speech of him. Ah! but my statue shall speak for me. Prepare the mould, -my friends, and let us not lose a moment. That woman insulting poor -Colombe! that infamous provost jeering at me! that jailer torturing -Ascanio! Oh, I have had some fearful visions to-day, dear Jacques! I -would give ten years of my life to the man who could gain admission to -the prisoner, speak to him, and learn the secret by means of which I may -subdue that arrogant duchess: for Ascanio knows a secret which possesses -that power, Jacques, and refused to divulge it to me, noble heart! But -no matter: have no fear for thy child, Stefana; I will defend him to my -latest breath, and I will save him! Yes, I will save him! Ah! where is -the vile traitor who betrayed us, that I may strangle him with my own -hands! Let me live but three days, Stefana, for it seems to me that the -fire which consumes me is burning my life away. Oh if I should die -before my Jupiter is finished! To the casting, children! to the -casting!" - -At Benvenuto's first words Jacques Aubry became pale as death, for he -suspected that he was the cause of it all. As the master proceeded, his -suspicion was changed to certainty. Thereupon some plan doubtless -suggested itself to him, for he stole silently away while Cellini -hurried away to the foundry, followed by his workmen, and shouting like -a madman,-- - -"To the casting, children! to the casting!" - - - - -XII - - -OF THE DIFFICULTY WHICH AN HONEST MAN EXPERIENCES -IN PROCURING HIS OWN COMMITTAL -TO PRISON - - -Poor Jacques Aubry was in a frame of mind bordering on despair when he -left the Grand-Nesle; there could be no doubt that it was he who, -involuntarily to be sure, had betrayed Ascanio's secret. But who was the -man who had betrayed him? Surely not that gallant nobleman whose name he -did not know: ah, no! he was a gentleman. It must have been that knave -of a Henriot, unless it was Robin, or Chariot, or Guillaume. To tell the -truth, poor Aubry rather lost himself in his conjectures; for the fact -was that he had intrusted the secret to a dozen or more intimate -friends, among whom it was no easy matter to find the culprit. But no -matter! the first, the real traitor was himself, Jacques Aubry,--the -infamous spy so roundly denounced by Benvenuto was himself. Instead of -locking away in his heart his friend's secret which he had surprised, he -had spread it broadcast in a score of places, and had brought disaster -upon his brother Ascanio with his infernal tongue. Jacques tore his -hair; Jacques beat himself with his fists; Jacques heaped mortal insults -upon himself, and could find no invectives sufficiently bitter to -qualify his conduct as it deserved. - -His remorse became so keen, and threw him into such a state of -exasperation with himself, that, for the first time in his life perhaps, -Jacques Aubry indulged in reflection. After all, when his head should be -bald, his chest black and blue, and his conscience torn to rags, Ascanio -would be no nearer freedom. At any cost, he must repair the evil he had -done, instead of wasting his time in despairing. - -Honest Jacques had retained these words of Benvenuto: "I would give ten -years of my life to the man who would gain admission to the prisoner, -speak to him, and learn the secret by means of which I may subdue that -arrogant duchess." And, as we have said, he began to reflect, contrary -to his wont. The result of his reflections was that he must gain -admission to the Châtelet. Once there, he would find a way to reach -Ascanio. - -But Benvenuto had sought in vain to gain admission as a visitor; and -surely Jacques Aubry could never be so audacious as to think of -attempting a thing in which the master had failed. However, although it -might be impossible to effect an entrance as a visitor, it certainly -should be much easier, at least so the student thought, to be admitted -as a prisoner. He determined, therefore, to enter the Châtelet in that -character; then, when he had seen Ascanio, and Ascanio had told him all, -so that he had no further business at the Châtelet, he would take his -leave, rich in the possession of the precious secret, and would go to -Benvenuto, not to demand the ten years of his life that he offered, but -to confess his crime, and implore forgiveness. - -Delighted with the fecundity of his imagination, and proud of his -unexampled devotion, he bent his steps toward the Châtelet. - -"Let us see," he ruminated, as he walked with deliberate step toward the -prison where all his hopes were centred,--"let us see, in order to avoid -any more idiotic mistakes, how matters stand,--no easy task, considering -that the whole business seems to me as tangled as Gervaise's skein when -she gives it to me to hold, and I try to kiss her. Let's begin at the -beginning. Ascanio loved Colombe, the provost's daughter: so far, so -good. As the provost proposed to marry her to Comte d'Orbec, Ascanio -carried her off: very good. Not knowing what to do with the sweet child -when he had abducted her, he hid her in the head of the statue of Mars: -best of all. Faith, it was a wonderfully ingenious hiding place, and -nothing less than a beast--but let us pass over that: I shall find -myself again later. Thereupon it would seem that the provost, acting -upon my information, got his daughter into his clutches once more, and -imprisoned Ascanio. Triple brute that I am! But here is where the skein -begins to be tangled. What interest has the Duchesse d'Etampes in all -this? She detests Colombe, whom everybody else loves. Why? Ah! I know. -I remember certain jocose remarks of the apprentices, Ascanio's -embarrassment when the duchess was mentioned,--Madame d'Etampes has her -eye on Ascanio, and naturally abominates her rival. Jacques, my friend, -you are a miserable wretch, but you are a clever dog all the same. Ah, -yes! but now how does it happen that Ascanio has in his hands the means -of ruining the duchess? Why does the king appear at intervals in the -affair, with one Stefana? Why did Benvenuto constantly invoke Jupiter, -rather a heathenish invocation for a Catholic? Deuce take me if I can -see through all that. But it isn't absolutely necessary that I should -understand. Light is to be found in Ascanio's cell; therefore the most -essential thing is to get myself cast into the cell with him. I will -manage the rest afterward." - -As he thus communed with himself he reached his destination, and struck -a violent blow upon the great door of the Châtelet. The wicket opened, -and a harsh voice demanded to know his business: it was the jailer's. - -"I wish for a cell in your prison," replied Aubry in a hollow voice. - -"A cell!" exclaimed the astonished jailer. - -"Yes, a cell: the blackest and deepest; even that will be better than I -deserve." - -"Why so?" - -"Because I am a great criminal." - -"What crime have you committed?" - -"Ah! indeed, what crime have I committed?" Jacques asked himself, for he -had not thought of preparing a crime suited to the occasion. As a -fertile, lively imagination was not his most prominent characteristic, -notwithstanding the compliments he had addressed to himself just before, -he repeated, stupidly,-- - -"What crime?" - -"Yes, what crime?" - -"Guess," said Jacques. "This fellow ought to know more about crimes than -I do," he added to himself, "so I will let him give me a list, and then -make my selection." - -"Have you murdered anybody?" asked the jailer. - -"Great God! what do you take me for, my friend?" cried the student, -whose conscience rose in revolt at the thought of being taken for a -murderer. - -"Have you stolen anything?" continued the jailer. - -"Stolen? the idea!" - -"What in Heaven's name have you done then?" cried the jailer testily. -"To give yourself up as a criminal isn't all that is necessary: you -must say what crime you've committed." - -"But I tell you that I'm a villain, a vile wretch, and that I deserve -the wheel or the gallows!" - -"The crime? the crime?" the jailer repeated. - -"The crime? Well! I have betrayed my friend." - -"That's no crime," said the jailer. "Good night." And he closed the -wicket. - -"That's not a crime, you say? that's not a crime? What is it then, -pray?" - -And Jacques grasped the knocker with both hands, and knocked with all -his strength. - -"What's the matter? what's the matter?" said a different voice from -within the Châtelet. - -"It's a madman, who wants to be admitted into the prison," replied the -jailer. - -"If he's a madman, his place is not at the Châtelet, but at the -asylum." - -"At the asylum!" cried Aubry, scampering away as fast as his legs would -carry him, "at the asylum! Peste! that's not what I want. I want to get -into the Châtelet, not the asylum! Besides, paupers and beggars are -sent to the asylum, and not people who have twenty Paris sous in their -pocket as I have. The asylum! Why, that wretched jailer claims that to -betray one's friend is no crime! So it seems that, in order to have the -honor of being committed to prison one must have murdered or stolen. But -now I think of it,--why might I not have led some young girl astray? -There's nothing dishonorable about that. Very good, but what girl? -Gervaise?" - -Despite his preoccupation, the student roared with laughter. - -"But, after all," he said, "though it isn't so, it might have been. -Good! good! I have discovered my crime: I seduced Gervaise!" - -On the instant he set off for the young working-girl's home, ran up the -sixty stairs which led to her lodgings, and burst into the room where -the lovely grisette in a coquettish _négligé_ was ironing her linen. - -"Ah!" exclaimed Gervaise, with a fascinating little shriek; "ah! -monsieur, you frightened me!" - -"Gervaise, my dear Gervaise," cried Aubry, rushing toward her with open -arms: "you must save my life, my child." - -"One moment, one moment," said Gervaise, using the hot flat-iron as a -shield; "what do you want, master gadabout? for three days I haven't -seen you." - -"I have done wrong, Gervaise, I am an unfortunate wretch. But a sure -proof that I love you is that I run to you in my distress. I repeat it, -Gervaise, you must save my life." - -"Yes. I understand, you have been getting tipsy in some wine shop, and -have had a dispute with some one. The archers are after you to put you -in prison, and you come to poor Gervaise to give you shelter. Go to -prison, monsieur, go to prison, and leave me in peace." - -"That is just what I ask and all I ask, my little Gervaise,--to go to -prison. But the villains refuse to commit me." - -"O mon Dieu! Jacques," said the young woman compassionately, "have you -gone mad?" - -"There you are! they say that I am mad, and propose to send me to the -asylum, while the Châtelet is where I want to go." - -"You want to go to the Châtelet? What for, Aubry? The Châtelet's a -frightful prison; they say that when one gets in there, it's impossible -to say when one will come out." - -"I must get in there, however, I must!" cried the student. "There is no -other way to save him." - -"To save whom?" - -"Ascanio." - -"Ascanio? what, that handsome young fellow, your Benvenuto's pupil?" - -"Himself, Gervaise. He is in the Châtelet, and he's there by my fault." - -"Great God!" - -"So that I must join him there," said Jacques, "and save him." - -"Why is he in the Châtelet?" - -"Because he loved the provost's daughter, and seduced her." - -"Poor boy! Why, do they imprison men for that?" - -"Yes, Gervaise. How you see it was like this: he had her in hiding. I -discovered the hiding place, and, like an idiot, like an infamous -villain, I told the whole story to everybody." - -"Except me!" cried Gervaise. "That was just like you!" - -"Didn't I tell it to you, Gervaise?" - -"You didn't mention it. You're a great babbler with others, but not -with me. When you come here it's to kiss me, to drink, or to -sleep,--never to talk. Understand, monsieur, that a woman loves to -talk." - -"Well, what are we doing at this moment, my little Gervaise?" said -Jacques. "We are talking, I should say." - -"Yes, because you need me." - -"It is true that you could do me a great service." - -"What is it?" - -"You could say that I seduced you." - -"Why, of course you seduced me, you wretch." - -"I!" cried Jacques in amazement. "I seduced you, Gervaise?" - -"Alas! yes, that is the word: seduced, monsieur, shamelessly seduced by -your fine words, by your false promises." - -"By my fine words and false promises?" - -"Yes. Didn't you tell me I was the prettiest girl in the whole quarter -of Saint-Germain des Prés?" - -"I tell you that now." - -"Didn't you say that, if I didn't love you, you should die of love?" - -"Do you think I said that? It's strange I don't remember it." - -"While, on the contrary, if I did love you, you would marry me." - -"Gervaise, I didn't say that. Never!" - -"You did say it, monsieur." - -"Never, never, never, Gervaise. My father made me take an oath like -Hannibal's to Hamilcar." - -"What was that?" - -"He made me swear to die a bachelor, like himself." - -"Oh!" cried Gervaise, summoning tears to the assistance of her words -with a woman's marvellous power of weeping to order, "oh! you're like -all the rest. Promises cost nothing, and when the poor girl is seduced -they forget what they promised. I will take my turn at swearing now, and -swear that I will never be caught again." - -"And you will do well, Gervaise," said the student. - -"When one thinks," cried the grisette, "that there are laws for robbers -and cut-purses, and none for the scoundrels who ruin poor girls!" - -"But there are, Gervaise." - -"There are?" - -"Why, of course. Didn't I tell you that they sent poor Ascanio to the -Châtelet for seducing Colombe." - -"They did well, too," said Gervaise, to whom the loss of her honor had -never presented itself so forcibly until she was fully convinced that -Jacques Aubry was determined not to give her his name by way of -compensation. "Yes, they did well, and I wish you were in the Châtelet -with him!" - -"Mon Dieu! that's all I ask," cried the student; "and as I told you, my -little Gervaise, I rely upon you to put me there." - -"You rely upon me." - -"Yes." - -"Make sport of me, ingrate!" - -"I'm not making sport of you, Gervaise. I say that if you had the -courage--" - -"To do what?" - -"Accuse me before the judge." - -"Of what?" - -"Of having seduced you; but you would never dare." - -"What's that? I wouldn't dare," cried Gervaise in an injured tone,--"I -wouldn't dare to tell the truth!" - -"Consider that you would have to make oath to it, Gervaise." - -"I'll do it." - -"You will make oath that I seduced you?" - -"Yes, yes,--a hundred times yes!" - -"Then all goes well," said the student joyfully. "I confess I was -afraid: an oath is a serious matter." - -"I'll take my oath to it this instant, and send you to the Châtelet, -monsieur." - -"Good!" - -"And you will find your Ascanio there." - -"Splendid!" - -"And you will have all the time you need to do penance together." - -"It's all that I ask." - -"Where is the lieutenant criminal?" - -"At the Palais de Justice." - -"I will go there at once." - -"Let us go together, Gervaise." - -"Yes, together. In that way the punishment will follow at once." - -"Take my arm, Gervaise." - -"Come, monsieur." - -They set off toward the Palais de Justice at the same gait at which they -were accustomed to repair on Sundays to the Pré-aux-Clercs or the Butte -Montmartre. - -As they drew near the Temple of Themis, as Jacques Aubry poetically -called the edifice in question, Gervaise's pace slackened perceptibly. -When they reached the foot of the staircase, she had some difficulty in -ascending; and finally, at the door of the lieutenant criminal's -sanctum, her legs failed her altogether, and the student felt her whole -weight hanging upon his arm. - -"Well, Gervaise," said he, "is your courage giving out?" - -"No," said Gervaise, "but a lieutenant criminal is an appalling -creature." - -"Pardieu! he's a man like other men!" - -"True, but one must tell him things--" - -"Very well; tell them." - -"But I must swear." - -"Then swear." - -"Jacques," said Gervaise, "are you quite sure that you seduced me?" - -"Am I sure of it!" said Jacques. "Pardieu! Besides, didn't you just -insist upon it yourself that I did?" - -"Yes, that is true; but, strangely enough, I don't seem to see things -now in just the same light that I did a short time ago." - -"Come, come," said Jacques, "you are weakening already: I knew you -would." - -"Jacques, my dear," cried Gervaise, "take me back to the house." - -"Gervaise, Gervaise," said the student, "this isn't what you promised -me." - -"Jacques, I will never reproach you again, or say a word about it. I -loved you because you took my fancy, that's all." - -"Alas!" said the student, "this is what I feared; but it's too late." - -"How too late?" - -"You came here to accuse me, and accuse me you must." - -"Never, Jacques, never: you didn't seduce me, Jacques; I was a flirt." - -"Nonsense!" cried the student. - -"Besides," added Gervaise, lowering her eyes, "one can be seduced but -once." - -"What do you mean?" - -"The first time one loves." - -"Hoity-toity! and you made me believe that you had never loved!" - -"Jacques, take me back to the house." - -"Oh indeed I won't!" said Jacques, exasperated by her refusal, and by -the reason she gave for it. "No! no! no!" - -And he knocked at the magistrate's door. - -"What are you doing?" cried Gervaise. - -"You see! I am knocking." - -"Come in!" cried a nasal voice. - -"I will not go in," exclaimed Gervaise, doing her utmost to release her -arm from the student's. "I will not go in!" - -"Come in," said the same voice a second time, a little more -emphatically. - -"Jacques, I will shriek, I will call for help," said Gervaise. - -"Come in, I say!" said the voice a third time, nearer at hand, and at -the same moment the door opened. - -"Well! what do you want?" said a tall thin man dressed in black, the -mere sight of whom made Gervaise tremble from head to foot. - -"Mademoiselle here," said Aubry, "has come to enter complaint against a -knave who has seduced her." - -With that he pushed Gervaise into the black, filthy closet, which served -as an anteroom to the lieutenant criminal's office. The door closed -behind her as if by a spring. - -Gervaise gave a feeble shriek, half terror, half surprise, and sat down, -or rather fell, upon a stool which stood against the wall. - -Jacques Aubry, meanwhile, lest she should call him back, or run after -him, hurried away through corridors known only to law students and -advocates, until he reached the courtyard of Sainte-Chapelle; thence he -tranquilly pursued his way to Pont Saint-Michel, which it was absolutely -certain that Gervaise must cross. - -Half an hour later she appeared. - -"Well!" said he, running to meet her, "what happened?" - -"Alas!" said Gervaise, "you made me tell a monstrous lie; but I hope God -will forgive me for it in view of my good intention." - -"I'll take it upon myself," said Aubry. "Tell me what happened." - -"Do you fancy that I know?" said Gervaise. "I was so ashamed that I -hardly remember what it was all about. All I know is that the lieutenant -criminal questioned me, and that I answered his questions sometimes yes, -sometimes no: but I am not sure that I answered as I should." - -"Wretched girl!" cried Aubry, "I believe it will turn out that she -accused herself of seducing me." - -"Oh, no! I don't think I went as far as that." - -"At least they have my address, haven't they, so that they can summon -me?" - -"Yes," murmured Gervaise, "I gave it to them." - -"It's all right then," said Aubry, "and now let us hope that God will do -the rest." - -Having escorted Gervaise to her abode and comforted her as best he could -for the false testimony she had been compelled to give, Jacques Aubry -returned home, overflowing with faith in Providence. - -In fact, whether Providence took a hand in it, or chance did it all, -Jacques Aubry received the next morning a summons to appear before the -lieutenant criminal that same day. - -This summons fulfilled Aubry's dearest hopes, and yet a court of justice -is so redoubtable a place that he felt a shiver run through his veins as -he read it. But we hasten to say that the certainty of seeing Ascanio -again, and the longing to save the friend upon whom he had brought -disaster, soon put an end to this demonstration of weakness on our -student's part. - -The summons fixed the hour of noon, and it was only nine o'clock: so he -called upon Gervaise, whom he found no less agitated than on the -previous day. - -"Well?" said she, inquiringly. - -"Well!" repeated Jacques triumphantly, exhibiting the paper covered with -hieroglyphics which he held in his hand. "Here it is." - -"For what hour?" - -"Noon. That's all I was able to read." - -"Then you don't know what you're accused of?" - -"Why, of seducing you, my little Gervaise, I presume." - -"You won't forget that you yourself insisted upon my doing it?" - -"Why no; I am ready to give you a certificate that you utterly refused -to do it." - -"Then you bear me no ill will for obeying you." - -"On the contrary, I couldn't be more grateful to you." - -"Whatever happens?" - -"Whatever happens." - -"If I did say all that, it was because I was obliged to." - -"Of course." - -"And if, in my confusion, I said more than I meant to say, you will -forgive me?" - -"Not only will I forgive you, my dear, my divine Gervaise, but I do -forgive you now in advance." - -"Ah!" said Gervaise, with a sigh; "ah! bad boy, with such words as those -you turned my head!" - -From which it is easy to see that Gervaise had really been seduced. - -At a quarter before twelve Jacques Aubry remembered that his summons -bade him appear at twelve. He took leave of Gervaise, and as he had a -long distance to go he ran all the way. Twelve o'clock was striking as -he knocked at the lieutenant criminal's door. - -"Come in!" cried the same nasal voice. - -He was not called upon to repeat the invitation, for Jacques Aubry, with -a smile on his lips, his nose in the air, and his cap over his ear, at -once stood in the tall black-coated man's presence. - -"What is your name?" asked the tall man. - -"Jacques Aubry," replied the student. - -"What are you?" - -"Law student." - -"What have you been doing?" - -"Seducing girls." - -"Aha! you're the man against whom a complaint was lodged yesterday -by--by--" - -"By Gervaise-Perrette Popinot." - -"Very good; sit down yonder and await your turn." - -Jacques sat down as the man in black bade him do, and waited. - -Five or six persons of varying age, sex, and feature were waiting like -himself, and as they had arrived before him their turns naturally came -before his. Some of them went out alone,--they were the ones, doubtless, -against whom no sufficient evidence was adduced,--while others went out -accompanied by an exempt, or by two of the provost's guards. Jacques -Aubry envied the fortune of these latter, for they were being taken to -the Châtelet, to which he was so anxious to be admitted. - -At last the name of Jacques Aubry, student, was called. Jacques Aubry -instantly rose and rushed into the magistrate's office as joyously as if -he were on his way to the most agreeable of entertainments. - -There were two men in the lieutenant criminal's sanctum; one taller, -thinner, and more forbidding than he in the antechamber, which Jacques -Aubry would have deemed impossible five minutes earlier: this was the -clerk. The other was short, fat, coarse, with a cheerful eye, a smiling -mouth, and a jovial expression generally: this was the magistrate. - -Aubry's smile and his met, and the student was quite ready to grasp his -hand, so strongly conscious was he of the existence of a bond of -sympathy between them. - -"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the lieutenant criminal, as he caught the -student's eye. - -"Faith, that is true, messire," the student rejoined. - -"You seem a jolly dog," said the magistrate. "Come, master knave, take a -chair and sit you down." - -Jacques Aubry took a chair, sat down, threw one leg over the other and -swung it in high glee. - -"Ah!" exclaimed the lieutenant, rubbing his hands. "Master Clerk, let us -look over the complainant's deposition." - -The clerk rose, and, by virtue of his great height, readied over to the -other side of the table, and selected the documents concerning Jacques -Aubry from a pile of papers. - -"Here it is," he said. - -"Who lodges the complaint?" inquired the magistrate. - -"Gervaise-Perrette Popinot," said the clerk. - -"That's it," said the student, nodding his head violently; "that's the -one." - -"A minor," said the clerk; "nineteen years of age." - -"Oho! a minor!" exclaimed Aubry. - -"So it appears from her declaration." - -"Poor Gervaise!" muttered Aubry. "She was quite right when she said that -she was so confused she didn't know what answers she made; she has -confessed to twenty-two. However, nineteen it is." - -"And so," said the lieutenant criminal, "and so, my buck, you are -charged with seducing a minor child. Ha! ha! ha!" - -"Ha! ha! ha!" echoed Aubry, joining in the judge's hilarity. - -"With aggravating circumstances," continued the clerk, mingling his -yelping tones with the jovial voices of the magistrate and the student. - -"With aggravating circumstances," repeated the former. - -"The devil!" exclaimed Jacques. "I should like very much to know what -they were." - -"As the complainant remained deaf to all the entreaties and wiles of the -accused for six months--" - -"For six months?" Jacques interposed. "Pardon, monsieur, I think there's -a mistake there." - -"For six months, monsieur, so it is written," replied the man in black, -in a tone which admitted no rejoinder. - -"So be it! six months it is," said Jacques; "but in truth Gervaise was -quite right when she said--" - -"The said Jacques Aubry, angered by her coldness, threatened her--" - -"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Jacques. - -"Oh! oh!" echoed the judge. - -"But," the clerk read on, "the said Gervaise-Perrette Popinot held out -so stubbornly and courageously that the insolent fellow begged her -forgiveness in view of his sincere repentance." - -"Ah! ah!" muttered Aubry. - -"Ah! ah!" exclaimed the magistrate. - -"Poor Gervaise!" Aubry continued, speaking to himself, with a shrug; -"what was the matter with her head?" - -"But," continued the clerk, "his repentance was only feigned; -unfortunately, the complainant, in her innocence and purity, allowed -herself to be deceived by it, and one evening, when she was imprudent -enough to accept refreshments of which the accused invited her to -partake, the said Jacques Aubry mixed with her water--" - -"With her water?" the student interrupted. - -"The complainant declared that she never drinks wine," said the -clerk.--"The said Jacques Aubry mixed an intoxicating decoction with her -water." - -"Look you, Master Clerk," cried Aubry; "what the deuce are you reading -from?" - -"The complainant's deposition." - -"Impossible!" - -"Is it so written?" inquired the magistrate. - -"It is written." - -"Go on." - -"After all," said Aubry aside, "the more guilty I am, the surer I shall -be of being sent to join Ascanio at the Châtelet. Intoxicating -decoction it is. Go on, Master Clerk." - -"You confess, do you?" queried the judge. - -"I confess," said the student. - -"Ah, gallows-bird!" exclaimed the judge, roaring with laughter, and -rubbing his hands. - -"So that," continued the clerk, "poor Gervaise, bereft of her reason, -ended by confessing to her seducer that she loved him." - -"Aha!" said Jacques. - -"Lucky knave!" murmured the lieutenant criminal, whose little eyes -shone. - -"Why!" cried Aubry; "why, there isn't a word of truth in the whole of -it!" - -"You deny the charge?" - -"Absolutely." - -"Write," said the magistrate, "that the accused declares that he is not -guilty of any of the charges brought against him." - -"Wait a moment! wait a moment!" cried the student, who reflected that if -he denied his guilt, they would not send him to prison. - -"So you don't deny it altogether?" queried the judge. - -"I confess that there is some little truth, not in the form, but in the -substance." - -"Oh! as you have confessed to the decoction," said the judge, "you may -as well admit the results." - -"True," said Jacques, "as I've confessed to the decoction, I admit the -rest, Master Clerk. But, upon my word," he added in an undertone, -"Gervaise was quite right in saying--" - -"But that's not all," the clerk interrupted him. - -"What! that's not all!" - -"The crime of which the accused was guilty had terrible results. The -unhappy Gervaise discovered that she was about to become a mother." - -"Ah! that is too much!" cried Jacques. - -"Do you deny the paternity?" asked the judge. - -"Not only do I deny the paternity, but I deny the condition." - -"Write," said the judge, "that the accused denies the paternity, and -also denies the condition; an inquiry will be ordered on that point." - -"One moment, one moment!" cried Aubry, realizing that if Gervaise were -convicted of falsehood on a single point the whole structure would fall -to the ground: "did Gervaise really say what the clerk has read?" - -"She said it word for word," replied the clerk. - -"Then if she said it," continued Aubry, "if she said it--why--" - -"Well?" queried the lieutenant criminal. - -"Why, it must be so." - -"Write that the accused pleads guilty to all the charges." - -The clerk wrote as directed. - -"Pardieu!" said the student to himself, "if Ascanio deserves a week in -the Châtelet for simply paying court to Colombe, I, who have deceived -Gervaise, drugged her, and seduced her, can count upon three months' -incarceration at the very least. But, faith, I would like to be sure of -my facts. However, I must congratulate Gervaise. Peste! she kept to her -word, and Jeanne d'Arc was nowhere beside her." - -"So you confess to all the crimes you're accused of?" said the judge. - -"I do, messire," replied Jacques unhesitatingly; "I do: all of them and -more too, if you choose. I am a great sinner, Monsieur le Lieutenant -Criminel, don't spare me." - -"Impudent varlet!" muttered the magistrate, in the tone in which the -uncle of comedy speaks to his nephew, "impudent varlet, out upon you!" - -With that he let his great round head, with his bloated, purple face, -fall upon his breast, and reflected magisterially. - -"Whereas," he began, after meditating a few moments, raising his head, -and lifting the index finger of his right hand,--"write, Master -Clerk,--whereas Jacques Aubry, clerk of the Basoche, has pleaded guilty -to the charge of seducing one Gervaise-Perrette Popinot by fine promises -and simulated affection, we sentence said Jacques Aubry to pay a fine of -twenty Paris sous, to support the child, if it is a boy, and to pay the -costs." - -"And the imprisonment?" cried Aubry. - -"Imprisonment! what do you mean?" asked the judge. - -"Why, I mean the imprisonment. For Heaven's sake, aren't you going to -sentence me to prison?" - -"No." - -"You're not going to order me committed to the Châtelet as Ascanio -was?" - -"Who's Ascanio?" - -"Ascanio is a pupil of Master Benvenuto Cellini." - -"What did he do?" - -"He seduced a maid." - -"Who was she?" - -"Mademoiselle Colombe d'Estourville, daughter of the Provost of Paris." - -"What then?" - -"What then! why I say that it's unjust, when we both committed the same -crime, to make a distinction in the punishment. What! you send him to -prison and fine me twenty Paris sous! In God's name, is there no justice -in this world?" - -"On the contrary," rejoined the magistrate, "it is because there is -justice in this world, and enlightened justice too, that this is as it -is." - -"How so?" - -"There are honors and honors, my young rascal; the honor of a noble -maiden is valued at imprisonment; the honor of a grisette is worth -twenty Paris sous. If you want to go to the Châtelet, you must try your -arts on a duchess, and then the affair will take care of itself." - -"But this is frightful! immoral! outrageous!" cried the student. - -"My dear friend," said the judge, "pay your fine and begone!" - -"I won't pay my fine, and I won't go." - -"Then I shall call a couple of archers and commit you to prison until -you do pay it." - -"That's all I ask." - -The judge summoned two guards:-- - -"Take this scoundrel to the Grands-Carmes!" - -"The Grands-Carmes!" cried Jacques; "why not the Châtelet, pray?" - -"Because the Châtelet is not a debtor's prison, my friend; because the -Châtelet is a royal fortress, and one must have committed some heinous -crime to be sent there. The Châtelet! Ah! yes, my little fellow, you'll -get to the Châtelet soon enough, just wait!" - -"One moment," said Aubry, "one moment." - -"What is it?" - -"If I am not to be sent to the Châtelet, I will pay." - -"Very well; if you pay, there's nothing more to be said. You may go, you -fellows, the young man will pay." - -The archers went out and Jacques Aubry took from his wallet twenty Paris -sous, which he spread out in a line on the judge's desk. - -"See if that is right," said the lieutenant criminal. - -The clerk rose, and to execute the order bent his back like a how, -embracing in the half-circle described by his body, which seemed to -possess the power of lengthening itself out indefinitely, his table and -the papers which lay upon it. As he stood with his feet on the floor and -his hands on the judge's desk, he reminded one of a sombre-hued rainbow. - -"It is right," he said. - -"Then off with you, my young rascal," said the magistrate, "and give -place to others; the court has no more time to waste on you. Go." - -Jacques saw that he had nothing to gain by remaining there, and withdrew -in despair. - - - - -XIII - - -IN WHICH JACQUES AUBRY RISES TO EPIC -PROPORTIONS - - -"Well, upon my word," said the student to himself as he left the Palais -de Justice, and mechanically crossed the Pont aux Moulins, which brought -him out almost opposite the Châtelet; "upon my word, I am curious to -know what Gervaise will say when she learns that her honor is valued at -twenty Paris sous! She will say that I have been indiscreet, and told -things I shouldn't have told, and she'll tear my eyes out. But what do -I see yonder?" - -What the student saw was a page belonging to the amiable nobleman to -whom he was accustomed to confide his secrets, and whom he looked upon -as one of his dearest friends. The boy was leaning up against the -parapet of the bridge and amusing himself by performing sleight-of-hand -tricks with pebbles. - -"Pardieu!" said the student, "this happens very fortunately. My friend, -whose name I don't know, and who seems to stand extremely well at court, -may have influence enough to have me committed to prison: Providence -sends his page to me to tell me where I can find him, as I know neither -his name nor his address." - -In order to avail himself of what he considered a direct interposition -of Providence in his behalf, Jacques Aubry advanced toward the young -page, who likewise recognized him, and, letting his three pebbles fall -into the same hand, crossed his legs and awaited the student with that -knowing look which is especially characteristic of the profession to -which he had the honor to belong. - -"_Bon jour_, Monsieur le Page," cried Aubry from the most distant point -at which he thought the boy could hear his voice. - -"_Bon jour_, Seigneur Student," was the reply; "what are you doing in -this quarter?" - -"Faith! if I must tell you, I was looking for something which I think I -have found, now that I see you; I was seeking the address of my -excellent friend, the comte--the baron--the vicomte--your master's -address." - -"Do you wish to see him?" asked the page. - -"Instantly, if possible." - -"In that case you will have your wish in a moment, for he is calling on -the provost." - -"At the Châtelet." - -"Yes, he will come out directly." - -"He's very lucky to be admitted to the Châtelet when he wishes; but is -my friend the vicomte--the comte--the baron--" - -"Vicomte." - -"On intimate terms with Messire Robert d'Estourville? The Vicomte de-- -Tell me," continued Aubry, anxious to avail himself of the opportunity -to learn his friend's name at last; "the Vicomte de--" - -"The Vicomte de Mar--" - -"Ah!" cried the student, interrupting the page in the middle of the -word, as he saw the man he sought appear at the door. "Ah! my dear -viscount, there you are. I was looking for you and waiting for you." - -"_Bon jour_," said Marmagne, evidently but little pleased at the -meeting. "_Bon jour_, my dear fellow. I would be glad to talk with you, -but unfortunately I am very hurried. So adieu." - -"One moment, one moment," cried Jacques, clinging to his friend's arm; -"deuce take me! you won't leave me like this. In the first place I have -a very great favor to ask of you." - -"You?" - -"Yes, I; and God's law, you know, bids friends to succor one another." - -"Friends?" - -"To be sure; aren't you my friend? What constitutes friendship? -Confidence. Now I am full of confidence in you. I tell you all my own -business, and other people's too." - -"Have you ever had occasion to repent of your confidence." - -"Never, so far as you are concerned at least; but it's not so with -everybody. There is one man in Paris that I am looking for, and with -God's help I shall meet him some day." - -"My dear fellow," interrupted Marmagne, who had a shrewd suspicion who -the man was, "I told you that I was much hurried." - -"But wait a moment, pray, when I tell you that you can do me a great -service." - -"Well, speak quickly." - -"You stand well at court, do you not?" - -"My friends say so." - -"You have some influence then?" - -"My enemies may discover it to their cost." - -"Very good! Now my dear comte--my dear baron--my dear--" - -"Vicomte." - -"Help me to get into the Châtelet." - -"In what capacity?" - -"As a prisoner." - -"As a prisoner? That's a singular ambition, on my word." - -"As you please, but it's my ambition." - -"For what purpose do you wish to be committed to the Châtelet?" queried -Marmagne, who suspected that this strange desire on the part of the -student indicated some new secret which it might be to his advantage to -know. - -"To any other than you I wouldn't tell it, my good friend," replied -Jacques; "or I have learned to my cost, or rather to poor Ascanio's, -that I must learn to hold my tongue. But with you it's a different -matter. You know that I have no secrets from you." - -"In that case tell me quickly." - -"Will you have me committed to the Châtelet if I tell you?" - -"Instantly." - -"Well, my friend, imagine that I was idiot enough to confide to others -than yourself the fact that I had seen a lovely girl in the head of the -statue of Mars." - -"What then?" - -"The crack-brained fools! would you believe that they spread the story -so that it came to the provost's ears; and as the provost had lost his -daughter some days before, he suspected that it was she who had selected -that hiding place. He notified D'Orbec and the Duchesse d'Etampes: they -came to the Hôtel de Nesle to make a domiciliary visit while Benvenuto -Cellini was at Fontainebleau. They carried off Colombe and imprisoned -Ascanio." - -"Nonsense!" - -"It's as I tell you, my dear viscount. And who managed it all? A certain -Vicomte de Marmagne." - -"But," interposed the viscount, not at all pleased to hear his name upon -the student's lips, "you don't tell me why you want to be committed to -the Châtelet." - -"You don't understand?" - -"No." - -"They arrested Ascanio." - -"Yes." - -"And took him to the Châtelet." - -"Very good." - -"But what they don't know, and what nobody knows save the Duchesse -d'Etampes, Benvenuto, and myself, is that Ascanio possesses a certain -letter, a certain secret, which places the duchess in his power. Now do -you understand?" - -"Yes I begin to see light. But do you help me, my dear friend." - -"You see, viscount," continued Aubry, assuming a more and more -aristocratic air, "I want to be admitted to the Châtelet, get to -Ascanio's cell, take the letter or learn the secret, leave the prison -again, go to Benvenuto and arrange with him some method whereby -Colombe's virtue and Ascanio's love may triumph, to the confusion of the -Marmagnes and D'Orbecs, the provost, the Duchesse d'Etampes, and the -whole clique." - -"That's a very ingenious plan," said Marmagne. - -"Thanks for your confidence, my dear student. You shall have no reason -to regret it." - -"Do you promise me your assistance?" - -"To what end?" - -"Why, to help me get committed to the Châtelet, as I asked you." - -"Rely upon me." - -"Immediately?" - -"Wait here for me." - -"Where I am?" - -"In this same spot." - -"And you?" - -"I am going to get the order for your arrest." - -"Ah, my friend, my dear baron, my dear count! But you must tell me your -name and address in case I may need you." - -"Useless. I will return at once." - -"Yes, return as soon as possible; and if you chance to meet that -accursed Marmagne on the road, tell him--" - -"What?" - -"Tell him that I have sworn an oath that he shall die by no hand but -mine." - -"Adieu!" cried the viscount; "adieu, and wait here for me." - -"_Au revoir!_" said Aubry. "I will expect you soon. Ah! you are a friend -indeed, a man one can trust, and I would be glad to know--" - -"Adieu, Seigneur Student," said the page, who had stood aloof during -this conversation, and was now about to follow his master. - -"Adieu, my pretty page," said Aubry; "but before you leave me do me a -favor." - -"What is it?" - -"Who is this gallant nobleman to whom you have the honor to belong?" - -"He whom you've been talking with for the last fifteen minutes?" - -"The same." - -"And whom you call friend?" - -"Yes." - -"You don't know his name?" - -"No." - -"Why, he is--" - -"A very well known nobleman, is he not?" - -"To be sure." - -"And influential?" - -"Next to the king and the Duchesse d'Etampes, he's the man." - -"Ah! and his name you say is--" - -"He is the Vicomte de--But he is turning back and calling me. -Pardon--" - -"The Vicomte de--" - -"The Vicomte de Marmagne." - -"Marmagne!" cried Aubry, "Vicomte de Marmagne! That young gentleman is -the Vicomte de Marmagne!" - -"Himself." - -"Marmagne! the friend of the provost and D'Orbec and Madame d'Etampes?" - -"In person." - -"And the enemy of Benvenuto Cellini?" - -"Just so." - -"Ah!" exclaimed Aubry, to whom the whole past was revealed as by a flash -of lightning. "Ah! I understand now. O Marmagne, Marmagne!" - -As the student was unarmed, with a movement as swift as thought, he -seized the page's short sword by the hilt, drew it from its sheath, and -darted in pursuit of Marmagne, shouting, "Halt!" - -At his first shout, Marmagne, decidedly ill at ease, looked around, and, -seeing Aubry rushing after him sword in hand, suspected that he was -discovered. To stand his ground or fly was therefore the only -alternative. Marmagne was not quite courageous enough to stand his -ground, nor was he quite enough of a coward to fly; he therefore adopted -the intermediate course of darting into a house, the door of which stood -open, hoping to close the door behind him. But unluckily for him it was -held fast to the wall by a chain which he could not detach, so that -Aubry, who was some little distance behind him, was in the little -courtyard before he had time to reach the staircase. - -"Ah! Marmagne! you damned viscount! you infernal spy! you filcher of -secrets! it's you, is it? At last I know you, and have my hand on you! -On guard, villain! on guard!" - -"Monsieur," replied Marmagne, trying to assume a lordly bearing, "do you -imagine that the Vicomte de Marmagne will honor the student Jacques -Aubry by crossing swords with him?" - -"If the Vicomte de Marmagne will not honor Jacques Aubry by crossing -swords with him, Jacques Aubry will have the honor of passing his sword -through the Vicomte de Marmagne's body." - -To leave no doubt in the mind of him to whom this threat was addressed, -Jacques Aubry placed the point of his sword against the viscount's -breast, and let him feel the touch of the cold steel through his -doublet. - -"Murder!" cried Marmagne. "Help! help!" - -"Oh, shout as much as you choose," retorted Jacques; "you will have done -shouting before any one comes. And so the best thing you can do, -viscount, is to defend yourself. On guard, viscount! on guard!" - -"If you will have it so," cried the viscount, "wait a bit, and you will -see!" - -Marmagne, as the reader will have discovered ere this, was not naturally -brave; but like all noblemen of that chivalrous epoch he had received a -military education; furthermore, he was reputed to have some skill in -fencing. It is true that this reputation was said to result rather in -enabling him to avoid unpleasant encounters which he might have had, -than in bringing to a fortunate conclusion those which he did have. It -is none the less true that, being closely pressed by Jacques, he drew -his sword and stood on guard in the most approved style of the art. - -But if Marmagne's skill was recognized among the noblemen at court, -Jacques Aubry's address was accepted as an incontestable fact among the -students at the University and the clerks of the Basoche. The result -was, that the moment their swords crossed each of the combatants saw -that he had to do with no despicable opponent. But Marmagne had one -great advantage; the page's sword, which Aubry had taken, was six inches -shorter than the viscount's; this was no great disadvantage in defensive -work, but became a serious matter when he wished to assume the -offensive. Furthermore, Marmagne was six inches taller than the student, -and being armed with a sword as much longer he had simply to present the -point at his face to keep him at a distance, while Jacques cut and -thrust and feinted to no purpose. Marmagne, without retreating a step, -got out of reach simply by drawing his right leg back beside the left. -The consequence was that, despite Aubry's agility, the viscount's long -sword grazed his chest several times, while he could succeed in cutting -nothing more substantial than the air, try as hard as he would. - -Aubry realized that he was lost if he continued to play the same game, -but in order to give his opponent no idea of the plan he proposed to -adopt, he continued to thrust and parry in the ordinary way, gaining -ground imperceptibly inch by inch; when he thought he was sufficiently -near he allowed himself to be caught off guard as if through -awkwardness. Marmagne, seeing an opening, made a lunge, but Aubry was -ready for him; he parried the blow, and, taking advantage of the -position of his opponent's sword, two inches above his head, darted -under it, leaped upon him, and thrust as he leaped, so cleverly and so -vigorously that the page's short sword disappeared up to the hilt in the -viscount's breast. - -Marmagne uttered one of those shrill cries, which indicate a severe -wound; his hand fell to his side, the blood left his cheeks, and he fell -headlong to the ground. - -At that moment the patrol came running up, attracted by Marmagne's -shrieks, the gestures of the page, and the sight of the crowd in front -of the door. As Aubry still held his bloody sword in his hand, they -arrested him. - -Aubry undertook at first to make some resistance; but as the leader of -the patrol shouted, "Disarm the villain and take him to the Châtelet," -he gave up his sword, and followed the guards to the prison to which he -was so anxious to gain admission, marvelling at the merciful decrees of -Providence, which accorded him at the same time the two things he most -desired,--vengeance upon Marmagne, and access to Ascanio. - -This time no objection was made to his reception within the walls of the -royal fortress; but as it seemed that it was at the moment somewhat -overburdened with guests, there was a long discussion between the jailer -and the warden of the prison, as to where the new comer should be -lodged. At last the two worthies seemed to agree upon the point; the -jailer motioned to Aubry to follow him, led him down thirty-two steps, -opened a door, pushed him into a very dark dungeon, and closed the door -behind him. - - - - -XIV - - -OF THE DIFFICULTY WHICH AN HONEST MAN EXPERIENCES -IN SECURING HIS RELEASE FROM PRISON - - -The student stood for an instant blinded by the abrupt transition from -light to darkness. Where was he? He had no idea. Was he near Ascanio or -far from him? He knew not. In the corridor through which he had passed, -he had noticed but two other doors beside the one which was opened for -him. But his primary object was gained; he was under the same roof as -his friend. - -Meanwhile, as he could not spend the rest of his life in that one spot, -and as he could see at the other end of the dungeon, about fifteen feet -away, a faint ray of light struggling in through an air-hole, he -cautiously put forth his leg, with the instinctive purpose of walking to -that spot; but at the second step that he took the floor seemed suddenly -to give way under his feet; he plunged down three or four stairs, and -would doubtless have gone head foremost against the wall had not his -feet come in contact with some object which tripped him up. The result -was that he escaped with nothing worse than a few bruises. - -The object which had unwittingly rendered him so important a service, -uttered a hollow groan. - -"I beg your pardon," said Jacques, rising and politely removing his cap. -"It seems that I stepped upon some person or some thing, a rudeness of -which I should never have been guilty, if I had been able to see -clearly." - -"You stepped," said a voice, "upon what was for sixty years a man, but -is soon to become a corpse for all eternity." - -"In that case," said Jacques, "my regret is all the greater for having -disturbed you at a moment when you were engaged doubtless, as every good -Christian should be at such a time, in settling your accounts with God." - -"My accounts are all settled, Master Student: I have sinned like a man, -but I have suffered like a martyr; and I hope that God, when weighing my -sins and my sorrows, will find that the sum of the latter exceeds that -of the former." - -"Amen!" said Aubry, "I hope so too with all my heart. But if it will not -fatigue you too much, my dear companion in adversity,--I say my dear -companion, because I presume you bear no malice on account of the little -accident which procured me the honor of your acquaintance a short time -since,--if it will not fatigue you too much, I say, pray tell me how you -succeeded in ascertaining that I am a student." - -"I knew it by your costume, and by the inkhorn hanging at your belt, in -the place where a gentleman carries his dagger." - -"You say you knew it by my costume,--by the inkhorn? Ah! my dear -companion, you told me, if I mistake not, that you are at the point of -death?" - -"I hope that I have at last reached the end of my sufferings: yes, I -hope to fall asleep to-day on earth, to wake to-morrow in heaven." - -"I in no wise dispute what you say," replied Jacques, "but I will -venture to remind you that your present situation is not one in which it -is customary to joke." - -"Who says that I am joking?" murmured the dying man with a deep sigh. - -"What! you say that you recognized me by my costume, by the inkhorn at -my belt, and I, look as hard as I may, cannot see my hands before my -face." - -"Possibly," rejoined the prisoner, "but when you have been fifteen years -in a dungeon as I have, you will be able to see in the darkness, as well -as you could see formerly in broad daylight." - -"May the devil tear my eyes out rather than make them serve such an -apprenticeship!" cried the student. "Fifteen years! you have been -fifteen years in prison?" - -"Fifteen or sixteen years, perhaps more, perhaps less. I long since -ceased to count days or to measure time." - -"You must have committed some abominable crime," cried the student, "to -have been punished so pitilessly." - -"I am innocent," replied the prisoner. - -"Innocent!" cried Jacques aghast. "Ah! my dear comrade, I have already -reminded you that this is no time for joking." - -"And I replied that I was not joking." - -"But still less is it a time for lying, for a joke is simply a -relaxation of the mind, which offends neither heaven nor earth, while -lying is a deadly sin, which compromises the soul's wellbeing." - -"I have never lied." - -"Why you say that you are innocent, and yet you have been fifteen years -in prison?" - -"Fifteen years more or less, I said." - -"Ah!" cried Jacques, "and I also am innocent!" - -"May God protect you then!" rejoined the dying man. - -"Why do you say that?" - -"Because a guilty man may hope for pardon; an innocent man, never!" - -"What you say is very profound, my friend; but it's not consoling at -all, do you know?" - -"I tell you the truth." - -"Come," said Jacques, "come, you have some little peccadillo or other to -reproach yourself with, haven't you? Between ourselves, tell me about -it." - -With that Jacques, who was really beginning to distinguish objects in -the darkness, took a stool, carried it to the dying man's bedside, and, -selecting a spot where there was a recess in the wall, placed the stool -there and made himself as comfortable as possible in his improvised -arm-chair. - -"Ah! you say nothing, my friend; you have no confidence in me. Oh, well! -I can understand that: fifteen years in prison may well have made you -suspicious. My name is Jacques Aubry. I am twenty-two years old, and a -student, as you have discovered,--according to what you say, at least. I -had certain reasons which concern myself alone, for getting myself -committed to the Châtelet; I have been here ten minutes; I have had the -honor of making your acquaintance. There's my whole life in a word, and -you know me now as well as I know myself. Now, my dear companion, I will -listen to you." - -"I am Etienne Raymond," said the prisoner. - -"Etienne Raymond," the student repeated; "I don't know that name." - -"In the first place," said the prisoner, "you were a child when it -pleased God to have me disappear from the world: in the next place, I -was of little consequence in the world, so that no one noticed my -absence." - -"But what did you do? Who were you?" - -"I was the Connétable de Bourbon's confidential servant." - -"Oho! and you had a share with him in betraying the state. In that case -I am no longer surprised." - -"No; I refused to betray my master, that was all." - -"Tell me about it; how did it happen?" - -"I was at the constable's hôtel in Paris, while he was living at his -château of Bourbon-l'Archambault. One day the captain of his guards -arrived with a letter from monseigneur. The letter bade me instantly -hand to the messenger a small sealed package which I would find in the -duke's bedroom in a small closet near the head of his bed. I went with -the captain to the bedroom, opened the closet, found the package in the -place described, and handed it to the messenger, who immediately took -his leave. An hour later an officer with a squad of soldiers came from -the Louvre, and bade me throw open the duke's bedroom and show them a -small closet near the head of the bed. I obeyed: they opened the closet, -but failed to find what they sought, which was nothing less than the -package the duke's messenger had carried away." - -"The devil! the devil!" muttered Aubry, beginning to take a deep -interest in the situation of his companion in misfortune. - -"The officer made some terrible threats, to which I made no other reply -than that I knew nothing about what he asked me; for if I had said that -I had just handed the package to the duke's messenger, they could have -pursued him and taken it from him." - -"Peste!" Aubry interrupted; "that was clever of you, and you acted like -a faithful and trusty retainer." - -"Thereupon the officer gave me in charge to two guards, and returned to -the Louvre with the others. In half an hour he returned with orders to -take me to the château of Pierre-Encise at Lyons. They put irons on my -feet, bound my hands, and tossed me into a carriage with a soldier on -either side. Five days later I was confined in a prison, which, I ought -to say, was far from being as dark and severe as this. But what does -that matter?" muttered the dying man; "a prison 's a prison, and I have -ended by becoming accustomed to this, as to all the others." - -"Hum!" said Jacques Aubry; "that proves you to be a philosopher." - -"Three days and three nights passed," continued Etienne Raymond; "at -last, during the fourth night, I was awakened by a slight noise. I -opened my eyes; my door turned upon its hinges; a woman closely veiled -entered with the jailer. The jailer placed a lamp upon the table, and, -at a sign from my nocturnal visitor, left the cell; thereupon she drew -near my bed and raised her veil. I cried aloud." - -"_Hein_? who was it, pray?" Aubry asked, edging closer to the narrator. - -"It was Louise of Savoy herself, the Duchesse d'Angoulême in person; it -was the Regent of France, the king's mother." - -"Oho!" said Aubry; "and what was she doing with a poor devil like you?" - -"She was in quest of the same sealed package which I had delivered to -the duke's messenger, and which contained love letters written by the -imprudent princess to the man she was now persecuting." - -"Well, upon my word!" muttered Jacques between his teeth, "here's a -story most devilishly like the story of the Duchesse d'Etampes and -Ascanio." - -"Alas! the stories of all frivolous, love-sick princesses resemble one -another," replied the prisoner, whose ears seemed to be as quick as his -eyes were piercing; "but woe to the poor devils who happen to be -involved in them!" - -"Stay a moment! stay a moment, prophet of evil!" cried Aubry; "what the -devil's that you're saying? I too am involved in the story of a -frivolous, love-sick princess." - -"Very well; if that is so, say farewell to the light of day, say -farewell to life." - -"Go to the devil with your predictions of the other world! What's all -that to me? I'm not the one she loves, but Ascanio." - -"Was it I that the regent loved?" retorted the prisoner. "Was it I, -whose very existence they had never heard of? No, but I was placed -between a barren love and a fruitful vengeance, and when they came -together I was the one to be crushed." - -"By Mahomet's belly! you are not very encouraging, my good man!" cried -Aubry. "But let us return to the princess, for your narrative interests -me beyond measure, just because it makes me tremble." - -"The packet contained letters which she wanted, as I have told you. In -exchange for them she promised me honors, dignities, titles; to see -those letters again she would have extorted four hundred thousand crowns -anew from another Semblançay, though he should pay for his complaisance -on the scaffold. - -"I replied that I hadn't the letters, that I knew nothing about them, -that I had no idea what she meant. - -"Thereupon her munificent offers were succeeded by threats; but she -found it no easier to intimidate than to bribe me, for I had told the -truth. I had delivered the letters to my noble master's messenger. - -"She left my cell in a furious rage, and for a year I heard nothing -more. At the end of a year she returned, and the same scene was -repeated. - -"At that time I begged, I implored her to let me go free. I adjured her -in the name of my wife and children; but to no purpose. I must give up -the letters or die in prison. - -"One day I found a file in my bread. - -"My noble master had remembered me; absent, exiled, a fugitive as he -was, of course he could not set me free by entreaty or by force. He sent -one of his servants to France, who induced the jailer to hand me the -file, telling me whence it came. - -"I filed through one of the bars at my window. I made myself a rope with -my sheets. I descended by the rope, but when I came to the end of it I -felt in vain for the ground with my feet. I dropped, with God's name -upon my lips, and broke my leg in the fall; a night patrol found me -unconscious. - -"I was thereupon transferred to the château of Chalons-sur-Saône. I -remained there about two years, at the end of which time my persecutress -made her appearance again. It was still the letters that brought her -thither. This time she was accompanied by the torturer, and I was put to -the question. This was useless barbarity, as she obtained no -information,--indeed, she could obtain none. I knew nothing save that I -had delivered the letters to the duke's messenger. - -"One day at the bottom of my jug of water I found a bag filled with -gold; once more my noble master bethought himself of his poor servant. - -"I bribed a turnkey, or rather the miserable creature pretended to be -bribed. At midnight he opened the door of my cell, and I went out. I -followed him through several corridors; I could already feel the air -that living men breathe, and thought that I was free, when guards rushed -out upon us and bound us both. My guide had pretended to yield to my -entreaties in order to get possession of the gold he had seen in my -hands, and then betrayed me to earn the reward offered to informers. - -"They brought me to the Châtelet, to this cell. - -"Here, for the last time, Louise of Savoy appeared; she was accompanied -by the executioner. - -"The prospect of death could have no other effect than the promises, -threats, and torture. My hands were bound; a rope was passed through a -ring and placed around my neck. I made the same reply as always to her -demands, adding that she would fulfil my dearest wish by putting me to -death, for I was driven to despair by my life of captivity. - -"It was that feeling, doubtless, which made her hold her hand. She went -out and the executioner followed her. - -"Since then I have never seen her. What has become of my noble master? -What has become of the cruel duchess? I have no idea, for since that -time, some fifteen years perhaps, I have not exchanged a single word -with a single living being." - -"They are both dead," said Aubry. - -"Both dead! the noble-hearted duke is dead! Why, he would still be a -young man, not more than fifty-two. How did he die?" - -"He was killed at the siege of Rome, and probably--" Jacques was about -to add, "by one of my friends," but he refrained, thinking that -might cause a coolness between the old man and himself. Jacques, as we -know, was becoming very discreet. - -"Probably?" the prisoner repeated. - -"By a goldsmith named Benvenuto Cellini." - -"Twenty years ago I would have cursed the murderer: to-day I say from -the bottom of my heart, 'May his murderer be blessed!' Did they give my -noble lord a burial worthy of the man?" - -"I think so: they built a tomb for him in the cathedral of Gaeta, and -upon the tomb is an epitaph wherein it is said that, beside him who -sleeps there, Alexander the Great was a sorry knave, and Cæsar an idle -blackguard." - -"And the other?" - -"What other?" - -"The woman who persecuted me?" - -"Dead also: dead nine years since." - -"Just so. One night, here in my cell, I saw a phantom kneeling and -praying. I cried out and it disappeared. It was she asking my -forgiveness." - -"Do you think, then, that when death came upon her she relented?" - -"I trust so, for her soul's sake." - -"But in that case they should have set you free." - -"She may have requested it, but I am of so little importance that I was -probably forgotten in the excitement of that great catastrophe." - -"And so you would likewise forgive her, as you are about to die?" - -"Lift me up, young man, that I may pray for both of them." And the dying -man, resting in Jacques Aubry's arms, coupled the names of his protector -and persecutress in the same prayer: the man who had remembered him in -his affection and the woman who had never forgotten him in her -hatred,--the constable and the regent. - -The prisoner was right. Jacques Aubry's eyes began to become accustomed -to the darkness, and he could make out the dying man's features. He was -a handsome old man, much emaciated by suffering, with a white beard and -a bald head,--such a head as Domenichino dreamed of when painting his -Confession of Saint-Jerome. - -When his prayer was finished, he heaved a deep sigh, and fell back upon -the bed; he had swooned. - -Jacques thought that he was dead. He ran to the water-jug, however, -poured some water in the hollow of his hand, and shook it over his face. -The dying man returned to life once more. - -"You did well to revive me, young man," said he, "and here is your -reward." - -"What is that?" - -"A dagger." - -"A dagger! how did it come into your hands?" - -"Wait one moment. One day, when the turnkey brought my bread and water, -he put the lamp upon the stool which happened to be standing near the -wall. In the wall at that point was a protruding stone, and I saw some -letters cut with a knife upon it. I hadn't time to read them. But I dug -up some earth with my hands, moistened it so as to make a sort of paste, -and took an impression of the letters, which formed the word _Ultor_. - -"What was the significance of that word, which means avenger? I returned -to the stone. I tried to shake it. It moved like a tooth in its socket. -By dint of patience and persistent efforts I succeeded in removing it -from the wall. I immediately plunged my hand into the hole, and found -this dagger. - -"Thereupon the longing for liberty, which I had almost lost, returned to -me in full force; I resolved to dig a passage-way from this to some -dungeon near at hand with the dagger, and there concoct some plan of -escape with its occupant. Besides, even if it all ended in failure, the -digging and cutting was something to occupy my time; and when you have -spent twenty years in a dungeon as I have, young man, you will realize -what a formidable enemy time is." - -Aubry shuddered from head to foot. "Did you ever put your plan in -execution?" he inquired. - -"Yes, and more easily than I anticipated. After the twelve or fifteen -years that I have been here, they have doubtless ceased to think of my -escape as a possibility: indeed, it's very likely that they no longer -know who I am. They keep me, as they keep the chain hanging from yonder -ring. The constable and the regent are dead, and they alone remembered -me. Who would now recognize the name of Etienne Raymond, even in this -place, if I should pronounce it? No one." - -Aubry felt the perspiration starting from every pore as he thought of -the oblivion into which this lost existence had fallen. - -"Well?" he exclaimed questioningly,--"well?" - -"For more than a year," said the old man, "I dug and dug, and I -succeeded in making a hole under the wall large enough for a man to pass -through." - -"But what did you do with the dirt you took from the hole?" - -"I strewed it over the floor of my cell, and trod it in by constantly -walking upon it." - -"Where is the hole?" - -"Under my bed. For fifteen years no one has ever thought of moving it. -The jailer came down into my cell only once a day. When he had gone, and -the doors were closed, and the sound of his footsteps had died away, I -would draw out my bed and set to work; when the time for his visit drew -near, I would move the bed back to its place, and lie down upon it. - -"Day before yesterday I lay down upon it never to rise again. I was at -the end of my strength: to-day I am at the end of my life. You are most -welcome, young man: you shall assist me to die, and I will make you my -heir." - -"Your heir!" said Aubry in amazement. - -"To be sure. I will leave you this dagger. You smile. What more precious -heritage could a prisoner leave you? This dagger is freedom, perhaps." - -"You are right," said Aubry, "and I thank you. Whither does this hole -that you have dug lead?" - -"I had not reached the other end, but I was very near it. Day before -yesterday I heard voices in the cell beside this." - -"The devil!" said Aubry, "and you think--" - -"I think that you will have finished my work in a very few hours." - -"Thanks," said Aubry, "thanks." - -"And now, a priest. I would much like to see a priest," said the -moribund. - -"Wait, father, wait," said Aubry; "it is impossible that they would -refuse such a request from a dying man." - -He ran to the door, this time without stumbling, his eyes being somewhat -accustomed to the darkness, and knocked with feet and hands both. - -A turnkey came down. - -"What's the matter, that you make such an uproar?" he demanded, "what do -you want?" - -"The old man here with me is dying," said Aubry, "and asks for a priest: -can you refuse?" - -"Hum!" grumbled the jailer, "I don't know why these fellows must all -want priests. It's all right: we'll send him one." - -Ten minutes later the priest appeared, carrying the viaticum and -preceded by two sacristans, one with the crucifix, the other with the -bell. - -A solemn and impressive spectacle was the confession of this martyr, who -had naught to disclose but the crimes of others, and who prayed for his -enemies instead of asking pardon for himself. - -Unimaginative as was Jacques Aubry, he fell upon his knees, and -remembered the prayers of his childhood, which he thought he had -forgotten. - -When the prisoner had finished his confession, the priest bowed before -him and asked his blessing. - -The old man's face lighted up with a smile as radiant as the smile of -God's elect; he extended one hand over the priest's head and the other -toward Aubry, drew a deep breath, and fell back upon his pillow. That -breath was his last. - -The priest went out as he had come, attended by his subordinates, and -the dungeon, lighted for a moment by the flickering flame of the -candles, became dark once more. - -Jacques Aubry was alone with the dead. It was a very depressing -situation, especially in the light of the reflections to which it gave -rise. The man who lay lifeless before him had been consigned to prison -an innocent man, had remained there twenty years, and went out at last -only because Death, the great liberator, came in search of him. - -The light-hearted student could not recognize himself: for the first -time he found himself confronted by stern reality; for the first time he -looked in the face the bewildering vicissitudes of life, and the calm -profundity of death. - -Then a selfish thought began to take shape in his heart. He thought of -himself, innocent like the dead man, and like him involved in the -complications of one of those royal passions which crush and consume and -destroy a life. Ascanio and he might disappear, as Etienne Raymond had -disappeared, who would think of them? - -Gervaise perhaps, Benvenuto Cellini certainly. - -But the former could do nothing but weep; and the other confessed his -own powerlessness when he cried so loudly for the letter in Ascanio's -possession. - -His only chance of safety, his only hope, lay in the heritage of the -dead man, an old dagger, which had already disappointed the expectations -of its two former owners. - -Jacques Aubry had hidden the dagger in his breast, and he nervously put -his hand upon the hilt to make sure that it was still there. - -At that moment the door opened, and men came in to remove the body. - -"When shall you bring me my dinner?" Jacques asked. "I am hungry." - -"In two hours," the jailer replied. - -With that the student was left alone in the cell. - - - - -XV - - -AN HONEST THEFT - - -Aubrey passed the two hours sitting upon his stool, without once moving: -his mind was so active that it kept his body at rest. - -At the appointed hour the turnkey came down, renewed the water, and -changed the bread; this was what, in Châtelet parlance, was called a -dinner. - -The student remembered what the dying man told him, that the door of his -cell would be opened but once in the twenty-four hours; however he still -remained for a long while in the same place, absolutely motionless, -fearing lest the event that had just occurred should cause some change -in the routine of the prison. - -He soon observed, through his air-hole, that it was beginning to grow -dark. The day just passed had been a well filled day for him. In the -morning, the examination by the magistrate; at noon, the duel with -Marmagne; at one o'clock, lodged in prison; at three, the prisoner's -death; and now his first attempts at securing his freedom. - -A man does not pass many such days in his life. - -Jacques Aubry rose at last, and walked to the door to listen for -footsteps: then, in order that the dirt and the wall might leave no -marks upon his doublet, he removed that portion of his costume, pulled -the bed away from the corner, and found the opening of which his -companion had spoken. - -He crawled like a snake into the narrow gallery, which was some eight -feet deep, and which, after making a dip under the partition wall, -ascended on the other side. - -As soon as he plunged his dagger into the earth he knew by the sound -that he would very soon accomplish his purpose, which was to open a -passage into some place or other. What that place would be only a -sorcerer could have told. - -He kept actively at work, making as little noise as possible. From time -to time he went out of the excavation as a miner does, in order to -scatter the loose earth about the floor of his cell; otherwise it would -eventually have blocked up the gallery; then he would crawl back, and -set to work once more. - -While Aubrey was working, Ascanio was thinking sadly of Colombe. - -He too, as we have said, had been taken to the Châtelet; he too had -been cast into a dungeon. But, it may have been by chance, it may have -been at the duchess's suggestion, his quarters were a little less bare, -consequently a little more habitable, than the student's. - -But what did Ascanio care for a little more or a little less comfort. -His dungeon was a dungeon all the same; his captivity a separation. He -had not Colombe, who was more to him than light, or liberty, or life. -Were Colombe with him in his dungeon, the dungeon would become an abode -of bliss, a palace of enchantment. - -The poor child had been so happy during the days immediately preceding -his arrest! Thinking of his beloved by day, and sitting by her side at -night, he had never thought that his happiness might some day come to an -end. And if, sometimes, in the midst of his felicity, the iron hand of -doubt had clutched his heart, he had, like one threatened by danger from -some unknown source, promptly put aside all uneasiness concerning the -future that he might lose none of his present bliss. - -And now he was in prison, alone, far from Colombe, who was perhaps -imprisoned like himself, perhaps a prisoner in some convent, whence she -could escape in no other way than by going to the chapel, where the -husband whom they sought to force upon her awaited her. - -Two redoubtable passions were standing guard at their cell doors; the -love of Madame d'Etampes at Ascanio's, the ambition of Comte d'Orbec at -Colombe's. - -As soon as he was alone in his dungeon, therefore, Ascanio became very -sad and down-hearted; his was one of those clinging natures which need -the support of some robust organization; he was one of those slender, -graceful flowers, which bend before the first breath of the tempest, and -straighten up again only in the vivifying rays of the sun. - -Had Benvenuto been in his place, his first thought would have been to -examine the doors, sound the walls, and stamp upon the floor, to see if -one or the other would not afford his quick and combative mind some -possible means of escape. But Ascanio sat down upon his bed, let his -head fall upon his breast, and whispered Colombe's name. It never -occurred to him that one could escape by any possible means from a -dungeon behind three iron doors and surrounded by walls six feet thick. - -The dungeon was, as we have said, a little less bare and a little more -habitable than that assigned to Jacques. It contained a bed, a table, -two chairs, and an old rush mat. Furthermore, a lamp was burning upon a -stone projection, doubtless arranged for that purpose. Beyond question -it was a cell set apart for privileged prisoners. - -There was also a great difference in the matter of food: instead of the -bread and water which was brought to the student once a day, Ascanio -enjoyed two daily repasts, a privilege somewhat neutralized by the -consequent necessity of seeing the jailer twice in the twenty-four -hours. These repasts, it should be said to the credit of the -philanthropic administration of the Châtelet, were not altogether -execrable. - -Ascanio thought but little of such paltry details: his was one of those -delicate feminine organizations which seem to exist on perfume and dew. -Without awaking from his reverie he ate a hit of bread, drank a few -drops of wine, and continued to think of Colombe and of Benvenuto -Cellini; of Colombe as of her to whom all his love was given, of Cellini -as of him in whom lay all his hope. - -Indeed, up to that moment Ascanio had never been concerned with any of -the cares or details of existence. Benvenuto lived for both, and Ascanio -was content to breathe, to dream of some lovely work of art, and to love -Colombe. He was like the fruit which grows upon a sturdy tree, and draws -all its life from the tree. - -And even now, perilous as was his situation, if he could have seen -Benvenuto Cellini at the moment of his arrest, or at the moment of his -incarceration, and Benvenuto had said to him, with a warm grasp of his -hand. - -"Have no fear, Ascanio, for I am watching over you and Colombe," his -confidence in the master was so great that, relying upon that promise -alone, he would have waited without anxiety for the prison doors to be -thrown open, sure that thrown open they would be, in spite of bars and -locks. - -But he had not seen Benvenuto, and Benvenuto did not know that his -cherished pupil, the son of his Stefana, was a prisoner. It would have -taken a whole day to carry the intelligence to him at Fontainebleau, -assuming that it had occurred to any one to do it, another day to return -to Paris, and in two days the enemies of the lovers might gain a long -lead upon their defender. - -So it was that Ascanio passed the rest of the day and the whole of the -night following his arrest without sleep, sometimes pacing back and -forth in his cell, sometimes sitting down, and occasionally throwing -himself upon the bed, which was provided with white sheets,--a special -mark of favor which proved that Ascanio had been particularly commended -to the attention of the authorities. During that day and night and the -following morning nothing worthy of note occurred, unless it was the -regular visit of the jailer to bring his food. - -About two o'clock in the afternoon, as nearly as the prisoner could -judge by his reckoning of the time, he thought that he heard voices near -at hand: it was a dull, indistinct murmur, but evidently caused by the -vocal organs of human beings. Ascanio listened and walked toward the -point whence the sound seemed to come; it was at one of the corners of -his cell. He silently put his ear to the wall and to the ground, and -found that the voices apparently came from beneath the floor. - -It was evident that he had neighbors who were separated from him only by -a thin partition or an equally thin floor. After some two hours the -sounds ceased, and all was still once more. - -Toward night the noise began again, but this time it was of a different -nature. It was not that which would be made by two persons speaking -together, but consisted of dull, hurried blows as of some one cutting -stone. It came from the same place, did not cease for a second, and -seemed to come nearer and nearer. - -Absorbed as Ascanio was in his own thoughts, this noise seemed to him -deserving of some attention none the less, so he sat with his eyes glued -to the spot whence it came. He judged that it must be near midnight, but -he did not once think of sleeping, notwithstanding that he had not slept -for so many hours. - -The noise continued: as it was long past the usual hour for work, it was -evidently some prisoner seeking to escape. Ascanio smiled sadly at the -thought that the poor devil, who would think for a moment, mayhap, that -he was at liberty, would find that he had simply changed his cell. - -At last the noise approached so near that Ascanio ran and seized his -lamp, and returned with it to the corner; almost at the same moment the -earth rose up in that spot, and as it fell away disclosed a human head. - -Ascanio uttered an exclamation of wonder, followed by a cry of joy, to -which a no less delighted cry made answer. The head belonged to Jacques -Aubry. - -In an instant, thanks to the assistance rendered by Ascanio to the -unexpected visitor who made his appearance in such extraordinary -fashion, the two friends were in one another's arms. - -As will readily be conceived, the first questions and answers were -somewhat incoherent; but at last, after exchanging a few disconnected -exclamations, they succeeded in restoring some semblance of order to -their thoughts, and in casting some light upon recent events. Ascanio to -be sure had almost nothing to say, and everything to learn. - -Eventually Aubry told him the whole story: how he had returned to the -Hôtel de Nesle simultaneously with Benvenuto; how they had learned -almost at the same moment of the arrest of Ascanio and the abduction of -Colombe; how Benvenuto had rushed off to his studio like a madman, -shouting, "To the casting! to the casting!" and he, Aubry, to the -Châtelet. Of what had taken place at the Hôtel de Nesle since that -time the student could tell him nothing. - -But to the general narrative of the Iliad succeeded the private -adventures of Ulysses. Aubry described to Ascanio his disappointment at -his failure to get committed to prison; his visit to Gervaise, and her -denunciation of him to the lieutenant criminal; his terrible -examination, which had no other result than the paltry fine of twenty -Paris sous, a result most insulting to the honor of Gervaise; and -finally his encounter with Marmagne just as he was beginning to despair -of procuring his own incarceration. From that point he related -everything that had happened to him up to the moment when, utterly in -the dark as to what cell he was about to enter, he had thrust his head -through the last crust of earth, and discerned by the light of his lamp -his friend Ascanio. - -Whereupon the friends once more embraced with great heartiness. - -"Now," said Jacques Aubry, "listen to me, Ascanio, for there is no time -to lose." - -"But first of all," said Ascanio, "tell me of Colombe. Where is -Colombe?" - -"Colombe? I can't tell you. With Madame d'Etampes, I think." - -"With Madame d'Etampes!" cried Ascanio,--"her rival!" - -"So what they say of the duchess's love for you is true, is it?" - -Ascanio blushed and stammered some unintelligible words. - -"Oh, you needn't blush for that!" cried Aubry. "Deuce take me! a -duchess! and a duchess who's the king's mistress at that! I should never -have any such luck. But let us come back to business." - -"Yes," said Ascanio, "let us come back to Colombe." - -"Bah! I'm not talking about Colombe. I'm talking about a letter." - -"What letter?" - -"A letter the Duchesse d'Etampes wrote you." - -"Who told you that I have a letter from the Duchesse d'Etampes in my -possession?" - -"Benvenuto Cellini." - -"Why did he tell you that?" - -"Because he must have that letter, because it is absolutely essential -that he should have it, because I agreed to take it to him, because all -I have done was done to get possession of that letter." - -"But for what purpose does Benvenuto want the letter?" - -"Ah! faith, I've no idea, and it doesn't concern me. He said to me, 'I -must have that letter.' I said to him, 'Very good, I will get it for -you.' I have had myself put in prison in order to get it; so give it me, -and I agree to deliver it to Benvenuto. Well, what's the matter?" - -This last question was induced by the cloud which spread over Ascanio's -face. - -"The matter is, my poor Aubry," said he, "that your trouble is thrown -away." - -"How so?" cried Aubry. "Haven't you the letter still?" - -"It is here," said Ascanio, placing his hand upon the pocket of his -doublet. - -"Ah! that's well. Give it to me, and I will take it to Benvenuto." - -"That letter will never leave me, Jacques." - -"Why so?" - -"Because I don't know what use Benvenuto proposes to make of it." - -"He means to use it to save you." - -"And to crush the Duchesse d'Etampes, it may be. Aubry, I will not help -to ruin a woman." - -"But this woman seeks to ruin you. This woman detests you: no, I am -wrong, she adores you." - -"And you would have me, in return for that feeling--" - -"Why, it's exactly the same as if she hated you since you don't love -her. Besides, it's she who has done all this." - -"What! she who has done it?" - -"Why, yes, it was she who caused your arrest, and carried off Colombe." - -"Who told you that?" - -"No one; but who else could it have been?" - -"Why the provost, or D'Orbec, or Marmagne, to whom you admit that you -told the whole story." - -"Ascanio! Ascanio!" cried Jacques in despair, "you are destroying -yourself!" - -"I prefer to destroy myself, rather than do a dastardly deed, Aubry." - -"But this is no dastardly deed, for Benvenuto is the one who undertakes -to do it." - -"Listen to me, Aubry," said Ascanio, "and don't be angry at what I say. -If Benvenuto stood in your place, and should say to me, 'It was Madame -d'Etampes, your enemy, who caused your arrest, who carried off Colombe, -who now has her in her power and intends to force her to do what she -does not wish to do,--I cannot save Colombe unless I have that -letter,'--I would make him swear that he would not show it to the king, -and then I would give it to him. But Benvenuto is not here, and I am not -certain that it is the duchess who is persecuting me. This letter would -not be safe in your hands, Aubry: forgive me, but you yourself admit -that you are an arrant chatterbox." - -"I promise you, Ascanio, that the day I have just passed has aged me ten -years." - -"You may lose the letter, or, with the best intentions, I know, make an -injudicious use of it, Aubry, so the letter will remain where it is." - -"But, my dear fellow," cried Jacques, "remember that Benvenuto himself -said that nothing but this letter can save you." - -"Benvenuto will save me without that, Aubry; Benvenuto has the king's -word that he will grant him whatever favor he asks on the day that his -Jupiter is safely cast. When you thought that Benvenuto was going mad -because he shouted, 'To the casting!' he was beginning to rescue me." - -"But suppose the casting should be unsuccessful?" said Aubry. - -"There's no danger," rejoined Ascanio with a smile. - -"But that sometimes happens to the most skilful founders in France, so I -am told." - -"The most skilful founders in France are mere schoolboys compared to -Benvenuto." - -"But how much time is required for the casting?" - -"Three days." - -"And how much more before the statue can be put before the king?" - -"Three days more." - -"Six or seven days in all. And suppose Madame d'Etampes forces Colombe -to marry D'Orbec within six days?" - -"Madame d'Etampes has no power over Colombe. Colombe will resist." - -"Very true, but the provost has power over Colombe as his daughter, and -King François I. has power over Colombe as his subject; suppose the -provost and the king both order her to marry him?" - -Ascanio became frightfully pale. - -"Suppose that when Benvenuto demands your liberty, Colombe is already -the wife of another, what will you do with your liberty then?" - -Ascanio passed one hand across his brow to wipe away the cold sweat -which the student's words caused to start thereon, while with the other -hand he felt in his pocket for the precious letter; but just as Aubry -felt certain that he was on the point of yielding, he shook his head as -if to banish all irresolution. - -"No!" he said, "no! No no one save Benvenuto. Let us talk of something -else." - -These words he uttered in a tone which indicated that, for the moment at -least, it was useless to insist. - -"In that case," said Aubry, apparently forming a momentous resolution; -"in that case, my friend, if we are to talk on other subjects we may as -well do it to-morrow morning, or later in the day, for I am afraid we -may remain here for some time. For my own part, I confess that I am worn -out by my tribulations of the day and my labor to-night, and shall not -be sorry for a little rest. Do you remain here, and I will go back to my -own cell. When you want to see me again, do you call me. Meanwhile, -spread this mat over the hole I have made, so that our communications -may not be cut off. Good night! the night brings counsel, they say, and -I hope that I shall find you more reasonable to-morrow morning." - -With that, and refusing to listen to the observations of Ascanio, who -sought to detain him, Jacques Aubry plunged head first into his gallery, -and crawled back to his cell. Ascanio, meanwhile, following up the -advice his friend had given him, dragged the mat into the corner of his -cell as soon as the student's legs had disappeared. The means of -communication between the two cells thereupon disappeared altogether. - -He then tossed his doublet upon one of the two chairs which, with the -table and the lamp, constituted the furnishings of his apartment, -stretched himself out upon the bed, and, overdone with fatigue as he -was, soon fell asleep, his bodily weariness carrying the day over his -mental torture. - -Aubry, instead of following Ascanio's example, although he was quite as -much in need of sleep as he, sat down upon his stool, and began to -reflect deeply, which, as the reader knows, was so entirely contrary to -all his habits, that it was evident that he was meditating some grand -stroke. - -The student's immobility lasted about fifteen minutes, after which he -rose slowly, and, with the step of a man whose irresolution is at an end -for good and all, walked to the hole, and crawled into it again, but -this time with so much caution and so noiselessly, that, when he reached -the other end and raised the mat, he was overjoyed to perceive that the -operation had not aroused his friend. - -That was all that the student wished. With even greater caution than he -had theretofore exhibited, he crept stealthily forth from his -underground gallery, and approached with bated breath the chair on which -Ascanio's doublet lay. With one eye fixed upon the sleeping youth, and -his ears on the alert for the slightest sound, he took from the pocket -the precious letter so eagerly coveted by Cellini, and placed in the -envelope a note from Gervaise, which he folded in exactly the same shape -as the duchess's letter, sure that Ascanio would believe, so long as he -did not open it, that lovely Anne d'Heilly's missive was still in his -possession. - -As silently as ever he stole back to the mat, raised it, crawled into -the hole once more, and disappeared like the phantoms who sink through -trap-doors at the opera. - -It was high time, for he was no sooner back in his cell, than he heard -Ascanio's door grinding on its hinges, and his friend's voice crying, in -the tone of one suddenly aroused from sleep,-- - -"Who's there?" - -"I," responded a soft voice, "do not be afraid, for it is a friend." - -Ascanio, who was but half dressed, rose at the sound of the voice, which -he seemed to recognize, and saw by the light of his lamp a veiled woman -standing by the door. She slowly approached him and raised her veil. He -was not mistaken,--it was Madame d'Etampes. - - - - -XVI - - -WHEREIN IT IS PROVED THAT A GRISETTE'S LETTER, -WHEN IT IS BURNED, MAKES AS MUCH FLAME -AND ASHES AS A DUCHESS'S - - -There was upon Anne d'Heilly's mobile features an expression of sadness -mingled with compassion, which deceived Ascanio completely, and -confirmed him, even before she had opened her mouth, in the impression -that she was entirely innocent of any share in the catastrophe of which -he and Colombe were victims. - -"You here, Ascanio!" she said in a melodious voice; "you, to whom I -would have given a palace to live in, I find in a prison!" - -"Ah, madame!" cried the youth, "it is true, is it not, that you know -nothing of the persecution to which we are subjected!" - -"Did you suspect me for an instant, Ascanio?" said the duchess; "in that -case you have every reason to hate me, and I can only bewail in silence -my ill fortune in being so little known to him I know so well." - -"No, madame, no," said Ascanio; "I was told that you were responsible -for it all, but I refused to believe it." - -"'T was well done of you! Ascanio, you do not love me, but with you -hatred at least is not synonymous with injustice. You were right, -Ascanio; not only am I not responsible for it, but I knew nothing -whatever about it. It was the provost, Messire d'Estourville: he learned -the whole story, I know not how, told it all to the king, and obtained -from him the order to arrest you and recover Colombe." - -"And Colombe is with her father?" demanded Ascanio eagerly. - -"No, Colombe is with me." - -"With you, madame!" cried the young man. "Why with you?" - -"She is very lovely, Ascanio," murmured the duchess, "and I can -understand why you prefer her to all the women in the world, even though -the most loving of them all offers you the richest of duchies." - -"I love Colombe, madame," said Ascanio, "and you know that love, which -is a treasure sent from Heaven, is to be preferred to all earthly -treasures." - -"Yes, Ascanio, yes, you love her above everything. For a moment I hoped -that your passion for her was only a passing fancy; I was mistaken. Yes, -I realize now," she added with a sigh, "that to keep you apart any -longer would be to run counter to God's will." - -"Ah, madame!" cried Ascanio, clasping his hands, "God has placed in your -hands the power to bring us together. Be noble and generous to the end, -madame, and make two children happy who will love you and bless you all -their lives." - -"Yes," said the duchess. "I am vanquished, Ascanio; yes, I am ready to -protect and defend you; but alas! it may be too late even now." - -"Too late! what do you mean?" cried Ascanio. - -"It may be, Ascanio, it may be that at this moment I am lost myself." - -"Lost, madame! how so, in God's name?" - -"For having loved you." - -"For having loved me! You, lost because of me!" - -"Yes, imprudent creature that I am, lost because of you; lost because I -wrote to you." - -"How so? I do not understand you, madame." - -"You do not understand that the provost, armed with an order from the -king, has directed a general search to be made at the Hôtel de Nesle? -You do not understand that this search, the principal purpose of which -is to find proofs of your affair with Colombe, will be most rigorously -carried out in your bedroom." - -"What then?" demanded Ascanio, impatiently. - -"Why," continued the duchess, "if they find that letter, which in a -moment of frenzy I wrote to you, if it is recognized as mine, if it is -laid before the king, whom I was then deceiving, and whom I was willing -to betray for you, do you not understand that my power is at an end from -that moment? Do you not understand that I can then do nothing either for -you or for Colombe? Do you not understand, in short, that I am lost?" - -"Oh!" cried Ascanio, "have no fear, madame! There is no danger of that; -the letter is here; it has never left me." - -The duchess breathed freely once more, and the expression of her face -changed from anxiety to joy. - -"It has never left you, Ascanio!" she repeated; "it has never left you! -To what sentiment, pray tell me, do I owe the fact that fortunate -letter has never left you?" - -"To prudence, madame," murmured Ascanio. - -"Prudence! mon Dieu! mon Dieu! I am wrong once more! And yet I surely -should be convinced ere this. Prudence! Ah well!" she added, seeming to -make a powerful effort to restrain her feelings, "in that case, as I -have naught but your prudence to thank, Ascanio, do you think it very -prudent to keep it upon your person, when they may come to your cell at -any moment and search you by force? do you think it prudent, I say, to -keep a letter which, if it is found, will put the only person who can -save you and Colombe in a position where it will be impossible for her -to help you?" - -"Madame," said Ascanio, in his melodious voice, and with that tinge of -melancholy which all pure hearts feel when they are forced to doubt, "I -know not if the purpose to save Colombe and myself exists at the bottom -of your heart as it does upon your lips; I know not whether the desire -to see that letter again, and nothing more, is the motive of your visit -to me; I know not whether, as soon as you have it in your possession, -you may not lay aside this _rôle_ of protectress which you have -assumed, and become our enemy once more; but this I do know, madame, -that the letter is yours, that it belongs to you, and that the moment -you claim it I cease to have the right to keep it from you." - -Ascanio rose, went straight to the chair upon which his doublet lay, put -his hand in the pocket, and took out a letter, the envelope of which the -duchess recognized at a glance. - -"Here, madame," he said, "is the paper you are so anxious to possess, -and which can be of no use to me, while it may injure you seriously. -Take it, tear it up, destroy it. I have done my duty; you may do what -you choose." - -"Ah! yours is indeed a noble heart, Ascanio!" cried the duchess, acting -in obedience to one of those generous impulses which are sometimes found -in the most corrupt hearts. - -"Some one comes, madame! take care!" cried Ascanio. - -"True," said the duchess. - -At the sound of approaching footsteps she hastily thrust the paper into -the flame of the lamp, which consumed it in an instant. The duchess did -not let it drop until the flame had almost scorched her fingers, when -the letter, three fourths consumed, drifted slowly downward: when it -reached the floor it was entirely reduced to ashes, but the duchess was -not content until she had placed her foot upon them. - -At that moment the provost appeared in the doorway. - -"I was told that you were here, madame," he said, looking uneasily from -the duchess to Ascanio, "and I hastened to descend and place myself at -your service. Is there aught in which I, or they who are under my -orders, can be of any use to you?" - -"No, messire," she replied, unable to conceal the feeling of intense joy -which overflowed from her heart upon her face. "No, but I am none the -less obliged to you for your readiness and your good will; I came simply -to question this young man whom you arrested, and to ascertain if he is -really as guilty as he was said to be." - -"And what is your conclusion?" queried the provost, in a tone to which -he could not refrain from imparting a slight tinge of irony. - -"That Ascanio is less guilty than I thought. I beg you, therefore, -messire, to show him every consideration in your power. The poor child -is in wretched quarters. Could you not give him a better room?" - -"We will look to it to-morrow, madame, for you know that your wishes are -commands to me. Have you any other commands, and do you wish to continue -your examination?" - -"No, messire," was the reply, "I know all that I wished to know." - -With that the duchess left the dungeon, darting at Ascanio a parting -glance of mingled gratitude and passion. - -The provost followed her and the door closed behind them. - -"Pardieu!" muttered Jacques Aubry, who had not lost a word of the -conversation between the duchess and Ascanio. "Pardieu! it was time." - -It had been Marmagne's first thought on recovering consciousness to send -word to the duchess that he had received a wound which might well prove -to be mortal, and that before he breathed his last he desired to impart -to her a secret of the deepest moment. Upon receipt of that message the -duchess hastened to his side. Marmagne then informed her that he had -been attacked and wounded by a certain student named Jacques Aubry, who -was endeavoring to gain admission to the Châtelet in order to get -speech of Ascanio and carry to Cellini a letter that was in Ascanio's -possession. - -The duchess needed to hear no more, and, bitterly cursing the passion -which had led her once more to overstep the limits of her ordinary -prudence, she hurried to the Châtelet although it was two o'clock in -the morning, demanded to be shown to Ascanio's cell, and there enacted -the scene we have described, which had ended in accordance with her -wishes so far as she knew, although Ascanio was not altogether deceived. - -As Jacques Aubry said, it was high time. - -But only half of his task was accomplished, and the most difficult part -remained to do. He had the letter which had come so near being destroyed -forever; but in order that it should have its full effect it must be in -Cellini's hands, not in Jacques Aubry's. - -Now Jacques Aubry was a prisoner, very much a prisoner, and he had -learned from his predecessor that it was no easy matter to get out of -the Châtelet, once one was safely lodged therein. He was therefore, we -might say, in much the same plight as the rooster who found the pearl, -greatly perplexed as to the use to be made of his treasure. - -To attempt to escape by resorting to violence would be utterly vain. He -might with his dagger kill the keeper who brought his food, and take his -keys and his clothes; but not only was that extreme method repugnant to -the student's kindly disposition,--it did not afford sufficiently strong -hopes of success. There were ten chances to one that he would be -recognized, searched, relieved of his precious letter, and thrust back -into his cell. - -To attempt to escape by cunning was even less hopeful. The dungeon was -eight or ten feet underground, there were huge iron bars across the -air-hole through which the one faint ray of light filtered into his -cell. It would take months to loosen one of those bars, and, suppose one -of them to be removed, where would the fugitive then find himself?--in -some courtyard with insurmountable walls, where he would inevitably be -found the next morning? - -Bribery was his only remaining resource; but, as a consequence of the -sentence pronounced by the lieutenant criminal, whereby Gervaise was -awarded twenty Paris sous for the loss of her honor, the prisoner's -whole fortune was reduced to ten Paris sous, a sum utterly inadequate to -tempt the lowest jailer of the vilest prison, and which could not -decently be offered to the turnkey of a royal fortress. - -Jacques Aubry was therefore, we are forced to confess, in the direst -perplexity. - -From time to time it seemed as if a hopeful idea passed through his -mind; but it was evident that it was likely to entail serious -consequences, for each time that it returned, with the persistence -characteristic of hopeful ideas, Aubry's face grew perceptibly darker, -and he heaved deep sighs, which proved that the poor fellow was -undergoing an internal conflict of the most violent description. - -This conflict was so violent and so prolonged that Aubry did not once -think of sleep the whole night long: he passed the time in striding to -and fro, in sitting down and standing up. It was the first time that he -had ever kept vigil all night for purposes of reflection; his previous -experiences in that line had been on convivial occasions only. - -At daybreak the struggle seemed to have ended in the complete triumph of -one of the opposing forces, for Jacques heaved a more heart-breaking -sigh than any he had yet achieved, and threw himself upon his bed like -a man completely crushed. - -His head had hardly touched the pillow when he heard steps on the -staircase, the key grated in the lock, the door turned upon its hinges, -and two officers of the law appeared in the doorway; they were the -lieutenant criminal and his clerk. - -The annoyance of the visit was tempered by the student's gratification -in recognizing two old acquaintances. - -"Aha! my fine fellow," said the magistrate, recognizing Aubry, "so it's -you, is it, and you succeeded after all in getting into the Châtelet? -_Tudieu_! what a rake you are! You seduce young women and run young -noblemen through the body! But beware! a nobleman's life is more -expensive than a grisette's honor, and you'll not be quit of this affair -for twenty Paris sous!" - -Alarming as the worthy magistrate's words undoubtedly were, the tone in -which he uttered them reassured the prisoner to some extent. This -jovial-faced individual, into whose hands he had had the good luck to -fall, was such a good fellow to all appearance that it was impossible to -think of him in connection with anything deadly. To be sure it was not -the same with his clerk, who nodded his head approvingly at each word -that fell from his principal's lips. It was the second time that Jacques -Aubry had seen the two men side by side, and, deeply engrossed as he was -by his own precarious situation, he could not forbear some internal -reflections upon the whimsical chance which had coupled together two -beings so utterly opposed to each other in character and feature. - -The examination began. Jacques Aubry made no attempt at concealment. He -declared that, having recognized the Vicomte de Marmagne as a man who -had on several occasions betrayed his confidence, he seized his page's -sword and challenged him; that Marmagne had accepted the challenge, and -that after exchanging a few thrusts the viscount fell. More than that he -did not know. - -"You know no more than that! you know no more than that!" muttered the -judge. "Faith, I should say that was quite enough, and your -affair's as clear as day, especially as the Vicomte de Marmagne is one -of Madame d'Etampes's great favorites. So it seems that she has -complained of you to the higher powers, my boy." - -"The devil!" exclaimed the scholar, beginning to feel decidedly ill at -ease. "Tell me, Monsieur le Juge, is the affair so bad as you say?" - -"Worse! my dear friend, worse! I am not in the habit of frightening -those who come before me; but I give you warning of this, so that if you -have any arrangements to make--" - -"Arrangements to make!" cried the student. "Tell me, Monsieur le -Lieutenant Criminel, for God's sake! do you think my life's in danger?" - -"Certainly it is, certainly. What! you attack a nobleman in the street, -you force him to fight, you run a sword through him, and then you ask if -your life's in danger! Yes, my dear friend, yes,--in very great danger." - -"But such affairs happen every day, and I don't see that the guilty ones -are prosecuted." - -"True, among gentlemen, my young friend. Oh! when it pleases two -gentlemen to cut each other's throats, it's a privilege of their rank, -and the king has nothing to say; but if the common people take it into -their head some fine day to fight with gentlemen, as they are twenty -times as numerous, there would soon be no more gentlemen, which would be -a great pity." - -"How many days do you think my trial will last?" - -"Five or six, in all likelihood." - -"What!" cried the student, "five or six days! No more than that?" - -"Why should it? The facts are clear enough; a man dies, you confess that -you killed him, and justice is satisfied. However," added the judge, -assuming a still more benevolent expression, "if two or three days more -would be agreeable to you--" - -"Very agreeable." - -"Oh well! we will spin out the report, and gain time in that way. You -are a good fellow at heart, and I shall be delighted to do something for -you." - -"Thanks," said the student. - -"And now," said the judge, rising, "have you any further request to -make?" - -"I would like to see a priest: is it impossible?" - -"No; it is your right." - -"In that case, Monsieur le Juge, ask them to send one to me." - -"I will do your errand. No ill will, my young friend." - -"Good lack! on the contrary, I am deeply grateful." - -"Master Student," said the clerk in an undertone, stepping to Aubrey's -side, "would you be willing to do me a favor?" - -"Gladly," said Aubrey; "what might it be?" - -"It may be that you have friends or relatives to whom you intend to -bequeath all your possessions?" - -"Friends? I have but one, and he's a prisoner like myself. Relatives? I -have only cousins, and very distant cousins at that. So, say on, Master -Clerk, say on." - -"Monsieur, I am a poor man, father of a family, with five children." - -"What then?" - -"I have never had any opportunities in my position, which I fill, as you -can testify, with scrupulous probity. All my confrères are promoted -over my head." - -"Why is that?" - -"Why? Ah! why? I will tell you." - -"Do so." - -"Because they are lucky." - -"Aha!" - -"And why are they lucky?" - -"That's what I would ask you, Master Clerk." - -"And that's what I am about to tell you, Master Student." - -"I shall be very glad to know." - -"They are lucky,"--here the clerk lowered his voice a half-tone -more,--"they are lucky because they have the rope a man was hanged with -in their pocket: do you understand?" - -"No." - -"You're rather dull. You will make a will, eh?" - -"A will! why should I?" - -"Dame! so that there may be no contest among your heirs. Very good! -write in your will that you authorize Marc-Boniface Grimoineau, cleric -to Monsieur le Lieutenant Criminel, to claim from the executioner a hit -of the rope you are hanged by." - -"Ah!" said Aubry, in a choking voice. "Yes, now I understand." - -"And you will grant my request?" - -"To be sure!" - -"Young man, remember what you have promised me. Many have made the same -promise, but some have died intestate, others have written my name, -Marc-Boniface Grimoineau so badly that there was a chance for cavilling; -and others still, who were guilty, monsieur, on my word of honor very -guilty, have been acquitted, and gone off elsewhere to be hanged; so -that I was really in despair when you fell in my way." - -"Very well, Master Cleric, very well; if I am hanged, you shall have -what you want, never fear." - -"Oh, you will be, monsieur, you will he, don't you doubt it!" - -"Well, Grimoineau," said the judge. - -"Here I am, monsieur, here I am. So it's a bargain, Master Student?" - -"It's a bargain." - -"On your word of honor?" - -"On my word!" - -"I think that I shall get it at last," muttered the clerk as he -withdrew. "I will go home and tell my wife and children the good news." - -He left the cell on the heels of the lieutenant criminal, who was -grumbling good-humoredly at having to wait so long. - - - - -XVII - - -WHEREIN IT IS PROVED THAT TRUE FRIENDSHIP IS -CAPABLE OF CARRYING DEVOTION TO THE MARRYING POINT - - -Aubry, once more alone, was soon more deeply absorbed in thought than -before; and the reader will agree that there was ample food for thought -in his conversation with the lieutenant criminal. We hasten to say, -however, that one who could have read his thoughts would have found that -the situation of Ascanio and Colombe, depending as it did upon the -letter in his possession, occupied the first place, and that before -thinking of himself, a thing which he proposed to do in good time, he -deliberated as to what was to be done for them. - -He had been meditating thus for half an hour more or less, when the door -of his cell opened once more, and the turnkey appeared on the threshold. - -"Are you the man who sent for a priest?" he growled. - -"To be sure I am," said Jacques. - -"Deuce take me, if I know what they all want with a damned monk," -muttered the turnkey; "but what I do know is that they can't leave a -poor man in peace for five minutes. Come in, come in, father," he -continued, standing aside to allow the priest to pass, "and be quick -about it." - -With that he closed the door, still grumbling, and left the new comer -alone with the prisoner. - -"Was it you who sent for me, my son?" the priest asked. - -"Yes, father," replied the student. - -"Do you wish to confess?" - -"No, not just that: I wish to talk with you concerning a simple case of -conscience." - -"Say on, my son," said the priest, seating himself upon the stool, "and -if any feeble light that I can give you will help you--" - -"It was to ask your advice that I ventured to send for you." - -"I am listening." - -"Father," said Aubry, "I am a great sinner." - -"Alas!" said the priest; "happy is the man who acknowledges it." - -"But that is not all; not only am I a great sinner myself, as I said, -but I have led others into sin." - -"Is there any way of undoing the harm you have done?" - -"I think so, father, I think so. She whom I dragged with me into the pit -was an innocent young girl." - -"You seduced her, did you?" - -"Seduced; yes, father, that is the word." - -"And you wish to atone for your sin?" - -"That at least is my intention." - -"There is but one way to do it." - -"I know it well, and that is why I have been undecided so long: if there -were two ways I would have chosen the other." - -"You wish to marry her?" - -"One moment, no! I will not lie: no, father, I do not wish to do it, but -I am resigned." - -"A warmer, more devoted feeling would be much better." - -"What would you have, father? There are people who are born to marry, -and others to remain single. Celibacy was my vocation, and nothing less -than my present situation, I swear--" - -"Very well, my son, the sooner the better, as you may repent of your -virtuous intentions." - -"What will be the earliest possible moment?" Aubry asked. - -"Dame!" said the priest, "as it is a marriage _in extremis_, there will -be no difficulty about the necessary dispensations, and I think that by -day after to-morrow--" - -"Day after to-morrow let it be," said the student with a sigh. - -"But the young woman?" - -"What of her?" - -"Will she consent?" - -"To what?" - -"To the marriage." - -"Pardieu! will she consent? That she will, with thanks. Such -propositions aren't made to her every day." - -"Then there is no obstacle?" - -"None." - -"Your parents?" - -"Absent." - -"And hers?" - -"Unknown." - -"Her name?" - -"Gervaise-Perrette Popinot." - -"Do you wish me to tell her of your purpose?" - -"If you will kindly take that trouble, father, I shall be truly -grateful." - -"She shall be informed this very day." - -"Tell me, father, tell me, could you possibly hand her a letter?" - -"No, my son: we who are admitted to minister to the prisoners have sworn -to deliver no message for them to any person until after their death. -When that time comes, I will do whatever you choose." - -"Thanks, it would be useless; marriage it must be, then," muttered -Aubry. - -"You have nothing else to say to me?" - -"Nothing, except that, if you doubt the truth of what I say, and if she -makes any objection to granting my request, you will find in the office -of the lieutenant criminal a complaint lodged by said Gervaise-Perrette -Popinot, which will prove that what I have said is the exact truth." - -"Rely upon me to smooth away all obstacles," replied the priest, who -realized that Jacques's proposed action was not prompted by enthusiasm -for the marriage, but that he was yielding to necessity; "and two days -hence--" - -"Two days hence--" - -"You will have restored, her honor to the woman whose honor you took -from her." - -"Alas!" muttered the student with a deep sigh. - -"Ah, my son!" said the priest, "the more a sacrifice costs you, the -greater pleasure it affords to God." - -"By Mahomet's belly!" cried Jacques; "in that case God should be very -grateful to me! go, father, go!" - -Indeed, Jacques had had to overcome very bitter opposition in his own -mind before arriving at such a resolution. As he had told Gervaise, he -had inherited his antipathy to the marriage tie from his father, and -nothing less than his friendship for Ascanio, and the thought that it -was he who had caused his ruin, together with the incentive afforded by -the noblest examples of self-sacrificing devotion to be found in -history,--nothing less than all of this was necessary to bring him to -the pitch of abnegation at which he had now arrived. - -But, the reader may ask, where lies the connection between the marriage -of Gervaise and Aubry, and the happiness of Ascanio and Colombe, and how -did Aubry expect to save his friend by marrying his mistress? To such a -question I can only answer that the reader lacks penetration; to which -the reader may retort, to be sure, that it is not his business to have -that quality. In that case, I beg him to take the trouble to read the -end of this chapter, which he might have passed over had he been endowed -with a more subtle intellect. - -When the priest had gone, Aubry, recognizing the impossibility of -drawing back, seemed to become more tranquil. It is characteristic of -resolutions, even the most momentous, to bring tranquillity in their -wake: the mind which has wrestled with its perplexity is at rest; the -heart which has fought against its sorrow is, as it were, benumbed. - -Jacques remained passive in his cell, until, having heard sounds in that -occupied by Ascanio, which he supposed to be caused by the entrance of -the jailer with his breakfast, he concluded that they would surely be -left in peace for a few hours. He waited some little time after the -noise had ceased, then crawled into his underground gallery, passed -through it, and raised the mat with his head. - -Ascanio's cell was plunged in most intense darkness. - -Aubry called his friend's name in a low tone, but there was no reply. -The cell was untenanted. - -Aubry's first feeling was one of joy. Ascanio was free, and if Ascanio -was free there was no need for him to--But almost immediately he -remembered what was said the night before about providing him with -better quarters. It was plain that the suggestion of Madame d'Etampes -had been heeded, and the sounds he heard were caused by his friend's -being moved. - -Aubry's hope was as dazzling, therefore, but as evanescent, as a flash -of lightning. He let the mat fall and crawled backward into his cell. -Every source of consolation was taken from him, even the presence of the -friend for whom he had sacrificed himself. - -He had no resource left but reflection. But he had already reflected so -long, and his reflections had led to such a disastrous result, that he -preferred to sleep. - -He threw himself upon his bed, and as he was very much in arrears in the -matter of sleep, it was not long before he was entirely unconscious of -his surroundings, notwithstanding the perturbed condition of his mind. - -He dreamed that he was condemned to death and hanged; but through the -deviltry of the hangman, the rope was badly greased, and his neck was -not broken. He was buried in due form, none the less, and in his dream -was beginning to gnaw his arms, as men buried alive always do, when the -clerk, determined to have his bit of rope, came to secure it, opened the -coffin in which he was immured, and restored his life and liberty. - -Alas! it was only a dream, and when the student awoke his life was still -in great danger, and his liberty altogether non-existent. - -The evening, the night, and the next day passed away, and brought him no -other visitor than his jailer. He tried to ask him a few questions, but -could not extract a word from him. - -In the middle of the second night, as Jacques was in the midst of his -first sleep, he was awakened with a start by the grinding of his door -upon its hinges. However soundly a prisoner may be sleeping, the sound -of an opening door always awakens him. - -The student sat up in bed. - -"Up with you, and dress yourself," said the jailer's harsh voice; and -Aubry could see by the light of the torch he held, the halberds of two -of the provost's guards behind him. - -The second branch of his order was unnecessary; as the student's bed was -entirely unprovided with bedclothes, he had lain down completely -dressed. - -"Where do you propose to take me, pray?" demanded Jacques, still asleep -with one eye. - -"You are very inquisitive," said the jailer. - -"But I would like to know." - -"Come, come; no arguing, but follow me." - -Resistance was useless, so the prisoner obeyed. - -The jailer walked first, then came Aubry, and the two guards brought up -the rear of the procession. - -Jacques looked around with an inquietude which he did not seek to -conceal. He feared a nocturnal execution; but one thing comforted him, -he saw no priest or hangman. - -After a few moments he found himself in the first room to which he was -taken at the time of his coming to the prison; but instead of escorting -him to the outer door, which he hoped for an instant that they would do, -so prone to illusions does misfortune render one, his guide opened a -door at one corner of the room and entered an inner corridor leading to -a courtyard. - -The prisoner's first thought on entering the courtyard, where he felt -the fresh air and saw the starlit sky, was to fill his lungs, and lay in -a stock of oxygen, not knowing when he might have another opportunity. - -The next moment he noticed the ogive windows of a fourteenth century -chapel on the other side of the yard, and began to suspect what was in -the wind. - -The truth-telling instinct of the historian compels us to state that at -the thought his strength wellnigh failed him. - -However, the memory of Ascanio and Colombe, and the grandeur of the -self-sacrifice about to be consummated, sustained him in his distress. -He walked with a firm step toward the chapel, and when he stood in the -doorway everything was explained. - -The priest stood by the altar; in the choir a woman was waiting; the -woman was Gervaise. - -Half-way up the choir he met the governor of the Châtelet. - -"You desired to make reparation, before your death, to the young woman -whose honor you stole from her: your request was no more than just and -it is granted." - -A cloud passed over the student's eyes; but he put his hand over Madame -d'Etampes's letter, and his courage returned. - -"Oh, my poor Jacques!" cried Gervaise, throwing herself into the -student's arms: "oh, who could have dreamed that this hour which I have -so longed for would strike under such circumstances!" - -"What wouldst thou have, my dear Gervaise?" cried the student, receiving -her upon his breast. "God knows those whom he should punish and those -whom he should reward: we must submit to God's will." - -"Take this," he added beneath his breath, slipping Madame d'Etampes's -letter into her hand; "for Benvenuto and for him alone!" - -"What's that?" exclaimed the governor, walking hastily toward them; -"what's the matter!" - -"Nothing; I was telling Gervaise how I love her." - -"As she will not, in all probability, have time to ascertain the -contrary, protestations are thrown away; go to the altar and make -haste." - -Aubry and Gervaise went forward in silence to the waiting priest. When -they were in front of him they fell upon their knees and the mass began. - -Jacques would have been very glad of an opportunity to exchange a few -words with Gervaise, who, for her part, was burning up with the desire -to express her gratitude to Aubry; but two guards stood beside them -listening to every word and watching every movement. It was very -fortunate that a momentary feeling of sympathy led the governor to allow -them to exchange the embrace under cover of which the letter passed from -Jacques's hands to Gervaise's. That opportunity lost, the close -surveillance to which they were subjected would have rendered Jacques's -devotion of no avail. - -The priest had received his instructions, doubtless, for he cut his -discourse very short. It may be, too, that he thought it would be -trouble thrown away to enjoin due regard to his duties as a husband and -father upon a man who was to be hanged within two or three days. - -The discourse at an end, the benediction given, the mass said, Aubry and -Gervaise thought they would be allowed to speak together privately for a -moment, but not so. Despite the tears of Gervaise, who was literally -dissolved in them, the guards forced them to part. - -They had time, however, to exchange a glance. Aubry's said, "Remember my -commission." Gervaise's replied, "Never fear; it shall be done to-night, -or to-morrow at latest." - -Then they were led away in opposite directions. Gervaise was politely -escorted to the street door, and Jacques was politely taken back to his -cell. - -As the door closed upon him, he heaved a deeper sigh than any of those -he had perpetrated since he entered the prison: he was married. - -Thus it was that Aubry, like another Curtius, plunged headlong, through -devotion, into the hymeneal gulf. - - - - -XVIII - - -THE CASTING - - -Now, with our readers' permission, we will leave the Châtelet for a -moment, and return to the Hôtel de Nesle. - -The workmen responded quickly to Benvenuto's cries, and followed him to -the foundry. - -They all knew him as he appeared when at work; but never had they seen -such an expression upon his face, never such a flame in his eyes. -Whoever could have cast him in a mould at that moment, as he was on the -point of casting his Jupiter, would have endowed the world with the -noblest statue ever created by the genius of an artist. - -Everything was ready: the wax model in its envelope of clay, girt round -with iron bands, was awaiting in the furnace which surrounded it the -hour of its life. The wood was all arranged: Benvenuto set fire to it in -four different places, and as it was spruce, which the artist had been -long collecting that it might be thoroughly dry, the fire quickly -attacked every part of the furnace, and the mould was soon the centre of -an immense blaze. The wax thereupon began to run out through the -air-holes while the mould was baking: at the same time the workmen were -digging a long ditch beside the furnace, into which the metal was to be -poured in a state of fusion, for Benvenuto was anxious not to lose a -moment, and to proceed to the casting as soon as the mould was -thoroughly baked. - -For a day and a half the wax trickled from the mould; for a day and a -half, while the workmen divided into watches and took turn and turn -about like the sailors on a man-of-war, Benvenuto was constantly on -hand, hovering about the furnace, feeding the fire, encouraging the -workmen. At last he found that the wax had all run out, and that the -mould was thoroughly baked; this completed the second part of his work; -the last part was the melting of the bronze and the casting of the -statue. When that stage was reached the workmen, who were utterly unable -to comprehend such superhuman strength and such an intensity of passion, -endeavored to induce Benvenuto to take a few hours' rest; but that would -mean so many hours added to Ascanio's captivity and the persecution of -Colombe. Benvenuto refused. He seemed to be made of the same bronze of -which he was about to make a god. - -When the ditch was dug, he wound stout ropes about the mould, and with -the aid of windlasses prepared for that purpose, he raised it with every -possible precaution, swung it out over the ditch, and let it down slowly -until it was on a level with the furnace. He fixed it firmly in place -there by piling around it the dirt taken from the ditch, treading it -down, and putting in place, as the dirt rose about the mould, the pieces -of earthen pipe which were to serve as air-holes. All these preparations -took the rest of the day. Night came. For forty-eight hours Benvenuto -had not slept nor lain down, nor even sat down. The workmen implored, -Scozzone scolded, but Benvenuto would hear none of it: he seemed to be -sustained by some more than human power, and made no other reply to the -entreaties and scolding than to assign to each workman his task, in the -short, stern tone of an officer manœuvring his troops. - -Benvenuto was determined to begin the casting at once: the energetic -artist, who was accustomed to see all obstacles yield before him, -exerted his imperious power upon himself; he ordered his body to act, -and it obeyed, while his companions were obliged to withdraw, one after -another, as in battle wounded soldiers leave the field and seek the -hospital. - -The casting furnace was ready: it was filled with round ingots of brass -and copper, symmetrically piled one upon another, so that the heat could -pass between them, and the fusion be effected more quickly and more -completely. He set fire to the wood around it as in the case of the -other furnace, and as it was mostly spruce, the resin which exuded from -it, in conjunction with the combustible nature of the wood, soon made -such a fierce flame that it rose higher than was anticipated, and lapped -the roof of the foundry, which took fire at once, being of wood. At the -sight of this conflagration, and more especially at the heat which it -gave forth, all the artist's comrades, save Hermann, drew back; but -Hermann and Benvenuto were a host in themselves. Each of them seized an -axe and cut away at the wooden pillars which upheld the roof, and in an -instant it fell in. Thereupon Hermann and Benvenuto with poles pushed -the burning fragments into the furnace, and with the increased heat the -metal began to melt. - -But Benvenuto had at last reached the limit of his strength. For nearly -sixty hours he had not slept, for twenty-four he had not eaten, and -during the whole of that time he was the soul of the whole performance, -the axis upon which the whole operation turned. A terrible fever took -possession of him: a deathly pallor succeeded to his usual high color. -In an atmosphere so intensely hot that no one could live beside him, he -felt his limbs tremble and his teeth chatter as if he were amid the -snows of Lapland. His companions remarked his condition and drew near to -him. He tried to resist, to deny that he was beaten, for in his eyes it -was a disgrace to yield even before the impossible; but at last he was -fain to confess that his strength was failing him. Fortunately, the -fusion was nearly accomplished: the most difficult part of the operation -was past, and what remained to be done was mere mechanical work. He -called Pagolo; Pagolo did not reply. But the workmen shouted his name in -chorus and he at last appeared; he said that he had been praying for the -successful issue of the casting. - -"This is no time to pray!" cried Benvenuto, "and the Lord said, 'He who -works prays.' This is the time for work, Pagolo. Hark ye: I feel that I -am dying; but whether I die or not, my Jupiter must live. Pagolo, my -friend, to thee I intrust the management of the casting, sure that thou -canst do it as well as I, if thou wilt. Understand, Pagolo, the metal -will soon be ready; thou canst not mistake the proper degree of heat. -When it is red thou wilt give a sledge hammer to Hermann, and one to -Simon-le-Gaucher.--My God! what was I saying? Ah, yes!--Then they must -knock out the two plugs of the furnace; the metal will flow out, and if -I am dead you will tell the king that he promised me a boon, and that -you claim it in my name, and that it--is--O my God! I no longer -remember. What was I to ask the king? Ah, yes!--Ascanio--Seigneur de -Nesle--Colombe, the provost's daughter--D'Orbec--Madame d'Etampes--Ah! I -am going mad!" - -Benvenuto staggered and fell into Hermann's arms, who carried him off -like a child to his room, while Pagolo, intrusted with the -superintendence of the work, gave orders for it to go on. - -Benvenuto was right: he was going mad, or rather a terrible delirium had -taken possession of him. Scozzone, who doubtless had been praying as -Pagolo had, hurried to his side; but Benvenuto continued to cry, "I am -dying! I am dying! Ascanio! Ascanio! what will become of Ascanio?" - -A thousand delirious visions were crowding in upon his brain: Ascanio, -Colombe, Stefana, all appeared and disappeared like ghosts. In the -throng which passed before his eyes was Pompeo the goldsmith, whom he -slew with his dagger; and the keeper of the post-house at Sienna, whom -he slew with his arquebus. Past and present were confounded in his -brain. How it was Clement VII. who detained Ascanio in prison; again it -was Cosmo I. who sought to force Colombe to marry D'Orbec. Then he would -appeal to Queen Eleanora, thinking he was addressing Madame d'Etampes, -and would implore and threaten her by turns. Then he would make sport of -poor weeping Scozzone, and bid her beware lest Pagolo should break his -neck clambering around on the cornices like a cat. Intervals of complete -prostration would succeed these paroxysms, and it would seem as if he -were at the point of death. - -This agonizing state of affairs endured three hours. Benvenuto was in -one of his periods of torpor when Pagolo suddenly rushed into the room, -pale and agitated, crying:-- - -"May Jesus and the Virgin help us, master! for all is lost now, and we -can look nowhere but to Heaven for help." - -Worn out, half conscious, dying as he was, these words, like a sharp -stiletto, reached the very bottom of his heart. The veil which clouded -his intellect was torn away, and, like Lazarus rising at the voice of -the Lord, he rose upon his bed, crying:-- - -"Who dares to say that all is lost when Benvenuto still lives?" - -"Alas! I, master," said Pagolo. - -"Double traitor!" cried Benvenuto, "is it written that thou shalt -forever prove false to me? But never fear! Jesus and the Virgin whom you -invoked just now are at hand, to bear aid to men of good will, and -punish traitors!" - -At that moment he heard the workmen lamenting and crying:-- - -"Benvenuto! Benvenuto!" - -"He is here! he is here!" cried the artist, rushing from his room, pale -of face, but with renewed strength and clearness of vision. "Here he is! -and woe to them who have not done their duty!" - -In two hounds Benvenuto was at the foundry; he found all the workmen, -whom he had left so full of vigor and enthusiasm, in a state of utter -stupefaction and dejection. Even Hermann the colossus seemed to be dying -of fatigue; he was tottering on his legs and was compelled to lean -against one of the supports of the roof which remained standing. - -"Now listen to what I say," cried Benvenuto in an awful voice, falling -into their midst like a thunderbolt. "I don't as yet know what has -happened, but I swear to you beforehand that it can be remedied, -whatever it may he,--upon my soul it can! Now that I am present, obey me -on your lives! but obey passively, without a word, without a gesture, -for the first man who hesitates I will kill. - -"So much for the ill disposed. - -"I have but one word to say to those who are disposed to do their duty: -the liberty and happiness of Ascanio, your companion of whom you are all -so fond, will follow the successful issue of this task. To work!" - -With that Cellini approached the furnace to form his own opinion of what -had taken place. The supply of wood had given out, and the metal had -cooled, so that it had turned to cake, as the professional phrase goes. - -Benvenuto at once determined that the disaster could be repaired. -Pagolo's watchfulness had relaxed in all likelihood, and he had allowed -the heat of the fire to abate: the thing to be done was to make the fire -as hot as ever, and to reduce the metal to a liquid state once more. - -"Wood!" cried Benvenuto, "wood! Go look for wood wherever it can -possibly be found; go to the bakers, and buy it by the pound if -necessary; bring every stick of wood that there is in the house to the -smallest chip. Break in the doors of the Petit-Nesle, Hermann, if Dame -Perrine doesn't choose to open them; everything in that direction is -lawful prize, for it's an enemy's country. Wood! wood!" - -To set the example Benvenuto seized an axe and attacked the two posts -which were still standing: they soon fell with the last remnants of the -roof, and Benvenuto at once pushed the whole mass into the fire: at the -same time his comrades returned from all directions laden with wood. - -"Ah!" cried Benvenuto, "now are you ready to obey me?" - -"Yes! yes!" cried every voice, "yes! we will do whatever you bid us do, -so long as we have a breath of life in our bodies." - -"Select the oak then, and throw on nothing but oak at first: that burns -more quickly, and consequently will repair the damage sooner." - -Immediately oak began to rain down upon the fire, and Benvenuto was -obliged to cry enough. - -His energy infected all his comrades; his orders, even his gestures, -were understood and executed on the instant. Pagolo alone muttered from -time to time between his teeth:-- - -"You are trying to perform impossibilities, master: it is tempting -Providence." - -To which Cellini's only reply was a look which seemed to say, "Never -fear; we have an account to settle hereafter." - -Meanwhile, notwithstanding Pagolo's sinister predictions, the metal -began to fuse anew, and to hasten the fusion Benvenuto at intervals -threw a quantity of lead into the furnace, stirring up the lead and -copper and brass with a long bar of iron, so that, to borrow his -expression, the metal corpse began to come to life again. At sight of -the progress that was making, Benvenuto was so elate that he was -unconscious of fever or weakness; he too came to life once more. - -At last the metal began to boil and seethe. Benvenuto at once opened the -orifice of the mould and ordered the plugs of the furnace to be knocked -out, which was done on the instant; but, as if this immense work was to -be a veritable combat of Titans to the end, Benvenuto perceived, as soon -as the plugs were removed, not only that the metal did not run freely -enough, but that there was some question as to whether there was enough -of it. Thereupon, with one of those heaven-sent inspirations which come -to none but artists, he cried:-- - -"Let half of you remain here to feed the fire, and the rest follow me!" - -With that he rushed into the house, followed by five of his men, and an -instant later they all reappeared, laden with silver plate, pewter, -bullion, and pieces of work half completed. Benvenuto himself set the -example, and each one cast his precious burden into the furnace, which -instantly devoured everything, bronze, lead, silver, rough pig-metal, -and beautiful works of art, with the same indifference with which it -would have devoured the artist himself if he had thrown himself in. - -Thanks to this reinforcement of fusible matter, the metal became -thoroughly liquefied, and, as if it repented of its momentary -hesitation, began to flow freely. There ensued a period of breathless -suspense, which became something very like terror when Benvenuto -perceived that all of the bronze did not reach the orifice of the mould: -he sounded with a long rod and found that the mould was entirely filled -without exhausting the supply of metal. - -Thereupon he fell upon his knees and thanked God: the work was finished -which was to save Ascanio and Colombe: now would God permit that the -result should fulfil his hopes? - -It was impossible to know until the following day. - -The night that followed was, as can readily be imagined, a night of -agony, and, worn out as Benvenuto was, he slept for a very few moments -only, and his sleep even for those few moments was far from being -restful. His eyes were hardly closed before real objects gave place to -imaginary ones. He saw his Jupiter, the king of the gods in beauty as -well as power, as shapeless and deformed as his son Vulcan. In his dream -he was unable to understand this catastrophe. Was it the fault of the -mould! Was it the fault of the casting? Had he made a miscalculation? or -was destiny making sport of him? At the sight his temples throbbed -furiously, and he awoke with his heart jumping, and bathed in -perspiration. For some time his mind was so confused that he could not -separate fact from vision. At last, however, he remembered that his -Jupiter was still hidden in the mould, like a child in its mother's -womb. He recalled all the precautions he had taken. He implored God not -only to make his work successful, but to do a merciful deed. Thereupon -he became somewhat calmer, and fell asleep again--under the weight of -the never-ending weariness which seemed to have laid hold on him -forever--only to fall into a second dream as absurd and as terrifying as -the first. - -Day broke at last, and with its coming Benvenuto shook himself clear of -all symptoms of drowsiness: in an instant he was on his feet and fully -dressed, and hastened at once to the foundry. - -The bronze was evidently still too hot to be exposed to the air, but -Benvenuto was in such haste to ascertain what he had still to fear, or -what he might hope, that he could not contain himself, and began to -uncover the head. When he put his hand to the mould he was so pale that -one would have thought him at the point of death. - -"Are you still sick, master?" inquired a voice, which he recognized as -Hermann's; "you vould do much petter to stay in your ped." - -"You are wrong, Hermann, my boy," said Benvenuto, amazed to find him -astir so early, "for I should die in my bed. But how happens it that you -are out of bed at this hour?" - -"I vas taking a valk," said Hermann, blushing to the whites of his eyes; -"I like much to valk. Shall I help you, master?" - -"No, no!" cried Benvenuto; "no one but myself is to touch the mould! -Wait, wait!" - -And he began gently to uncover the head. By a miraculous chance there -was just the necessary amount of metal. If it had not occurred to him to -throw all his silver plate and other objects into the furnace, the head -would have been missing and the casting a failure. - -Fortunately the head was not missing, and was wonderfully beautiful. - - -[Illustration 07] - - -The sight of it encouraged Benvenuto to expose the other portions of the -body one after another. Little by little the mould fell away like bark, -and at last Jupiter, freed from head to foot from his trammels, appeared -in all the majesty befitting the sovereign of Olympus. In no part of the -work had the bronze betrayed the artist, and when the last morsel of -clay fell away, all the workmen joined in a shout of admiration; for -they had come out one by one and gathered about Cellini, who did not -even notice their presence, so absorbed was he by the thoughts to which -this complete success gave rise. - -But at the shout, which made him too a god, he raised his head, and said -with a proud smile:-- - -"We shall see if the King of France will refuse the first boon asked by -the man who has made such a statue!" - -The next instant, as if he repented his first impulse of pride, which -was entirely characteristic of him, he fell upon his knees, and with -clasped hands rendered thanks to the Lord aloud. - -As he was finishing his prayer Scozzone ran out to say that _Madame_ -Jacques Aubry desired to speak to him in private, having a letter from -her husband, which she could hand to none but Benvenuto. - -Benvenuto made Scozzone repeat the name twice, for he had no idea that -the student was in the hands of a lawful wife. - -He obeyed the summons none the less, leaving his companions swollen with -pride in their master's renown. Pagolo meanwhile, on scrutinizing the -statue more closely, observed that there was an imperfection in the -heel, some accident having prevented the metal from filling every part -of the mould. - - - - -XIX - - -JUPITER AND OLYMPUS - - -On the same day that Benvenuto removed his statue from the mould, he -sent word to François I. that his Jupiter was cast, and asked him on -what day it was his pleasure that the King of Olympus should appear -before the King of France. - -François replied that his cousin, the Emperor, and he were to hunt in -the forest of Fontainebleau on the following Thursday, and that he need -do nothing more than have his statue transported to the grand gallery of -the château on that day. - -The reply was very short; it was evident that Madame d'Etampes had -strongly prejudiced the king against his favorite artist. But -Benvenuto--was it through pride or confidence in God?--said simply, with -a smile,-- - -"It is well." - -It was Monday. Benvenuto caused the Jupiter to be loaded upon a wagon, -and rode beside it, not leaving it for an instant, lest some mishap -might befall it. On Thursday, at ten o'clock, statue and artist were at -Fontainebleau. - -To any one who saw Benvenuto, though it were only to see him ride by, it -was evident that pride and radiant hope were triumphant in his heart. -His conscience as an artist told him that he had executed a -_chef-d'œuvre_, and his honest heart that he was about to perform a -meritorious action. He was doubly joyous, therefore, and carried his -head high, like a man who, having no hatred in his heart, was equally -without fear. The king was to see his Jupiter, and could not fail to be -pleased with it; Montmorency and Poyet would remind him of his promise; -the Emperor and the whole court would be present, and François could -not do otherwise than as he had given his word to do. - -Madame d'Etampes, with less innocent delight, but with quite as much -ardent passion, was maturing her plans. She had triumphed over Benvenuto -at the time of his first attempt to confound her by presenting himself -at her own hôtel and at the Louvre. The first danger was safely past, -but she felt that the king's promise to Benvenuto was a second equally -great danger, and it was her purpose, at any cost, to induce his Majesty -to disregard it. She therefore repaired to Fontainebleau one day in -advance of Cellini, and laid her wires with the profound feminine craft -which in her case almost amounted to genius. - -Cellini was destined very soon to feel its effects. - -He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the gallery where his Jupiter -was to be exhibited, than he felt the blow, recognized the hand that had -dealt it, and stood for a moment overwhelmed. - -This gallery, ordinarily resplendent with paintings by Rosso, which were -in themselves enough to distract the attention from almost any -masterpiece, had been embellished during the last three days by statues -sent from Rome by Primaticcio,--that is to say, the marvels of antique -sculpture, the types sanctified by the admiration of twenty centuries, -were there before him, challenging comparison, crushing all rivalry. -Ariadne, Venus, Hercules, Apollo, even Jupiter himself, the great -Olympian Jove,--ideal figures, dreams of genius, eternities in -bronze,--formed, as it were, a supernatural assemblage which it was -impious to approach, a sublime tribunal whose judgment every artist -should dread. - -There was something like profanation and blasphemy in the thought of -another Jupiter insinuating himself into that Olympus, of Benvenuto -throwing down the gauntlet to Phidias, and, notwithstanding his trust in -his own merit, the devout artist recoiled. - -Furthermore, the immortal statues had taken possession of all the best -places, as it was their right to do, and there was no place left for -Cellini's poor Jupiter but some dark corner which could only be reached -by passing under the stately and imposing glances of the ancient gods. - -Benvenuto stood in the doorway with bowed head, and with an expression -in which sadness and artistic gratification were mingled. - -"Messire Antoine Le Maçon," he said to the king's secretary, who stood -beside him, "I ought to and will send my Jupiter back instantly; the -disciple will not attempt to contend with the masters; the child will -not attempt to contend with his parents; my pride and my modesty alike -forbid!" - -"Benvenuto," replied the secretary, "take the advice of a sincere -friend,--if you do that, you are lost. I tell you this between -ourselves, that your enemies hope to discourage you, and then to allege -your discouragement as a proof of your lack of skill. It will be useless -for me to make excuses for you to the king. His Majesty, who is -impatient to see your work, would refuse to listen, and, with Madame -d'Etampes continually urging him to do it, would withdraw his favor from -you forever. She anticipates that result, and I fear it. It's with the -living, not with the dead, Benvenuto, that you have to contend." - -"You are right, messire," the goldsmith rejoined, "and I understand you -perfectly. Thank you for reminding me that I have no right to have any -self-esteem here." - -"That's all right, Benvenuto. But let me give you one more bit of -advice. Madame d'Etampes is too fascinating to-day not to have some -perfidious scheme in her head: she took the king and the Emperor off for -a ride in the forest with irresistible playfulness and charm; I am -afraid for your sake that she will find a way to keep them there until -dark." - -"Do you think it?" cried Benvenuto, turning pale. "Why, if she succeeds -in doing that, I am lost; for my statue would then have to be exhibited -by artificial light, which would deprive it of half its merit." - -"Let us hope that I am mistaken," said Le Maçon, "and see what comes to -pass." - -Cellini waited in painful suspense. He placed his Jupiter in as -favorable a light as possible, but he did not conceal from himself the -fact that its effect would be comparatively slight by twilight, and that -after nightfall it would be positively bad. The duchess's hatred had -reckoned no less accurately than the artist's skill; she anticipated in -1541 a trick of the critics of the nineteenth century. - -Benvenuto watched the sun sink toward the horizon with despair at his -heart, and listened eagerly to every sound without the château. Except -for the servants the vast structure was deserted. - -Three o'clock struck; thenceforth the purpose of Madame d'Etampes could -not be mistaken, and her success was beyond question. Benvenuto fell -upon a chair, utterly crushed. All was lost: his renown first of all. -That feverish struggle, in which he had been so near succumbing, and -which he had already forgotten because he had thought that it made his -triumph sure, would have no other result than to put him to shame. He -gazed sorrowfully at his statue, around which the shadows of night were -already beginning to fall, and whose lines began to appear less pure. - -Suddenly an inspiration came to him; he sprang to his feet, called -little Jehan, whom he had brought with him, and rushed hastily from the -gallery. Nothing had yet occurred to suggest the king's return. -Benvenuto hurried to a cabinet-maker in the town, and with his -assistance and that of his workmen made, in less than an hour, a stand -of light-colored oak, with four rollers, which turned in every -direction, like casters. - -He trembled now lest the king should return too soon: but at five -o'clock the work was completed, night had fallen, and the crowned heads -had not returned to the château. Madame d'Etampes, wherever she was, -was in a fair way to triumph. - -In a very short time Benvenuto had the statue in place upon the almost -invisible stand. Jupiter held in his left hand the sphere representing -the world, and in his right, a little above his head, the thunderbolt, -which he seemed to be on the point of launching into space: amid the -tongues of the thunderbolt the goldsmith concealed a lamp. - -These preparations were hardly completed when a flourish of trumpets -announced the return of the king and the Emperor. Benvenuto lighted the -lamp, stationed little Jehan behind the statue, by which he was entirely -concealed, and awaited the king's coming, not without trepidation, -evidenced by the violent beating of his heart. - -Ten minutes later the folding doors were thrown wide open, and François -I. appeared, leading Charles V. by the hand. - -The Dauphin, Dauphine, the King of Navarre, and the whole court followed -the two monarchs; the provost, his daughter, and D'Orbec were among the -last. Colombe was pale and dejected, but as soon as she espied Cellini, -she raised her head, and a smile of sublime confidence appeared upon her -lips and lighted up her face. - -Cellini met her glance with one which seemed to say, "Have no fear; -whatever happens, do not despair, for I am watching over you." - -As the door opened, little Jehan, at a signal from his master, gave the -statue a slight push, so that it moved softly forward upon its smoothly -rolling stand, and, leaving the antique statues behind, went to meet the -king, so to speak, as if it were alive. Every eye was at once turned in -its direction. The soft light of the lamp falling from above produced an -effect much more agreeable than daylight. - -Madame d'Etampes bit her lips. - -"Methinks, Sire," said she, "that the flattery is a little overdone, and -that it was for the king of earth to go to meet the king of heaven." - -The king smiled, but it was easy to see that the flattery did not offend -him; as his wont was, he forgot the artist for his art, saved the statue -half the journey by walking to meet it, and examined it for a long time -in silence. Charles V., who was by nature an astute politician rather -than a great artist, although he did one day, in a moment of good humor, -pick up Titian's pencil,--Charles V. and the courtiers, who were not -entitled to an opinion, waited respectfully to hear that of François -before pronouncing their own. - -There was a moment of silent suspense, during which Benvenuto and the -duchess exchanged a glance of bitter hatred. - -Suddenly the king cried,-- - -"It is beautiful! it is very beautiful! and I confess that my -expectations are surpassed." - -Thereupon every one overflowed in compliments and extravagant praise, -the Emperor first of all. - -"If one could conquer artists like cities," said he to the king, "I -would declare war on you instantly, to win this one, my cousin." - -"But, after all," interrupted Madame d'Etampes, in a rage, "we do not -even look at the beautiful antique statues a little farther on, which -have somewhat more merit, perhaps, than our modern gewgaws." - -The king thereupon walked toward the antique statues, which were lighted -from below by the torches, so that the upper portions were in shadow; -they were beyond question much less effective than the Jupiter. - -"Phidias is sublime," said the king, "but there may be a Phidias in the -age of François I. and Charles V., as there was in the age of -Pericles." - -"Oh, we must see it by daylight," said Anne, bitterly; "to appear to be -is not to be: an artificial light is not art. And what is that veil? is -it to conceal some defect, Master Cellini, tell us frankly?" - -She referred to a very light drapery thrown over the statue to give it -more majesty. - -Thus far Benvenuto had remained beside his statue, silent, and -apparently as cold as it; but at the duchess's words, he smiled -disdainfully, shot lightning from his black eyes, and, with the sublime -audacity of a heathen artist, snatched the veil away with his powerful -hand. - -He expected that the duchess would burst forth with renewed fury. - -But by an incredible exertion of her will power, she smiled with ominous -affability, and graciously held out her hand to Cellini, who was amazed -beyond measure by this sudden change of tactics. - -"I was wrong," she said aloud, in the tone of a spoiled child; "you are -a great sculptor, Cellini; forgive my critical remarks; give me your -hand, and let us be friends henceforth. What say you?" - -She added in an undertone, with extreme volubility: "Think well of what -you are about to ask, Cellini. Let it not be the marriage of Colombe and -Ascanio, or I swear that Colombe, Ascanio, and yourself, all three, are -undone forever!" - -"And suppose I request something else, madame," said Benvenuto, in the -same tone; "will you second my request?" - -"Yes," said she, eagerly; "and I swear that, whatever it may be, the -king will grant it." - -"I have no need to request the king's sanction to the marriage of -Colombe and Ascanio, for you will request it yourself, madame." - -The duchess smiled disdainfully. - -"What are you whispering there?" said François. - -"Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes," Benvenuto replied, "was obliging enough -to remind me that your Majesty had promised to grant me a boon in case -you were content with my work." - -"And the promise was made in my presence, Sire," said the constable, -coming forward; "in my presence and Chancelier Poyet's. Indeed, you bade -my colleague and myself remind you--" - -"True, constable," interposed the king, good-humoredly; "true, if I -failed to remember myself; but I remember famously, on my word! So your -intervention, while it is perfectly agreeable to me, is quite useless. -I promised Benvenuto to grant whatever boon he might ask when his -Jupiter was cast. Was not that it, constable? Have I a good memory, -chancellor? It is for you to speak, Master Cellini: I am at your -service; but I beg you to think less of your own merit, which is -immense, than of our power, which is limited; we make no reservations, -saving our crown and our mistress." - -"Very good, Sire," said Cellini, "since your Majesty is so well disposed -toward your unworthy servitor, I will ask for the pardon of a poor -student, who fell into a dispute upon the Quai du Châtelet with the -Vicomte de Marmagne, and in self-defence passed his sword through the -viscount's body." - -Every one marvelled at the moderation of his request, and Madame -d'Etampes most of all; she gazed at Benvenuto with an air of -stupefaction, and as if she thought that she could not have heard -aright. - -"By Mahomet's belly!" exclaimed François, "you do well to invoke my -right of pardon in that matter, for I heard the chancellor himself say -yesterday that it was a hanging affair." - -"Oh, Sire!" cried the duchess, "I intended to speak to you myself -concerning that young man. I have had news of Marmagne, who is -improving, and who sent word to me that he sought the quarrel, and the -student--What is the student's name, Master Benvenuto?" - -"Jacques Aubry, Madame la Duchesse." - -"And the student," continued Madame d'Etampes, hurriedly, "was in no -wise in the wrong; and so, Sire, instead of rebuking Benvenuto, or -cavilling at him, grant his request promptly, lest he repent of having -been of modest." - -"Very well," said François; "what you desire shall be done, master; and -as he gives twice who gives quickly,--so says the proverb,--let the -order to set this young man at liberty be despatched to-night. Do you -hear, my dear chancellor?" - -"Yes, Sire; and your Majesty shall be obeyed." - -"As to yourself, Master Benvenuto," said François, "come to me on -Monday at the Louvre, and we will adjust certain matters of detail in -which you are interested, and which have been somewhat neglected of late -by my treasurer." - -"But your Majesty knows that admission to the Louvre--" - -"Very good! very good! the person who gave the order can rescind it. It -was a war measure, and as you now have none but friends at court, -everything will be re-established upon a peace footing." - -"As your Majesty is in a granting mood," said the duchess, "I pray you -to grant a trifling request which I prefer, although I did not make the -Jupiter." - -"No," said Benvenuto in an undertone, "but you have often acted the part -of Danaë." - -"What is your request?" said François, who did not hear Benvenuto's -epigram. "Say on, Madame la Duchesse, and be sure that the solemnity of -the occasion can add nothing to my desire to be agreeable to you." - -"Very well, Sire; your Majesty might well confer upon Messire -d'Estourville the great honor of signing on Monday next the marriage -contract of my young friend, Mademoiselle d'Estourville, with Comte -d'Orbec." - -"Why, I should be conferring no favor upon you by so doing," rejoined -the king, "but I should afford myself a very great pleasure, and should -still remain your debtor, I swear." - -"So it is agreed, Sire, for Monday?" asked the duchess. - -"For Monday," said the king. - -"Madame la Duchesse," said Benvenuto, under his breath, "do you not -regret that the beautiful lily you ordered Ascanio to execute is not -finished, that you might wear it upon such an occasion?" - -"Of course I regret it," was the reply; "but it's impossible, for -Ascanio is in prison." - -"Very true, but I am free; I will finish it and bring it to Madame la -Duchesse." - -"Oh! upon my honor! if you do that I will say--" - -"You will say what, madame?" - -"I will say that you are a delightful man." - -She gave her hand to Benvenuto, who gallantly imprinted a kiss upon it, -after asking the king's permission with a glance. - -At that moment a slight shriek was heard. - -"What is that?" the king asked. - -"Sire, I ask your Majesty's pardon," said the provost, "but my daughter -is ill." - -"Poor child!" murmured Benvenuto; "she thinks that I have abandoned -her." - - - - -XX - - -A PRUDENT MARRIAGE - - -Benvenuto would have returned to Paris the same evening, but the king -was so persistent that he could not avoid remaining at the château -until the following morning. - -With the rapidity of conception and promptness of decision which were -characteristic of him, he determined to arrange for the next day the -_dénouement_ of a transaction which he began long before. It was a -collateral matter which he wished to have off his hands altogether -before devoting himself entirely to Ascanio and Colombe. - -He remained at the château to supper on that evening and until after -breakfast on the Friday, and not until noon did he set out on his return -journey, accompanied by little Jehan, after taking leave of the king and -Madame d'Etampes. - -Both were well mounted, and yet, contrary to his wont, Cellini did not -urge his horse. It was evident that he did not wish to enter Paris -before a certain hour, and it was seven o'clock in the evening when he -alighted at Rue de la Harpe. - -Furthermore, instead of betaking himself at once to the Hôtel de Nesle, -he called upon one of his friends named Guido, a physician from -Florence; and when he had made sure that his friend was at home, and -could conveniently entertain him at supper, he ordered little Jehan to -return alone, to say that he had remained at Fontainebleau and would not -return until the next day, and to be ready to open the door when he -should knock. Little Jehan at once set out for the Hôtel de Nesle, -promising to abide by his instructions. - -The supper was served,--but before they took their places at the table -Cellini asked his host if he did not know some honest and skilful notary -whom he could send for to prepare a contract that could not be assailed. -He recommended his son-in-law, who was immediately summoned. - -He arrived as they were finishing their supper, some half-hour later. -Benvenuto at once left the table, closeted himself with him, and bade -him draw up a marriage contract leaving the names in blank. When they -had read and re-read the contract, as drawn up, to make sure that there -was no flaw in it, Benvenuto paid him handsomely, put the contract in -his pocket, borrowed from his friend a second sword of just the length -of his own, put it under his cloak, and, as it had become quite dark, -started for the Hôtel de Nesle. - -When he reached his destination, he knocked once; but though he knocked -very gently, the door immediately opened. Little Jehan was at his post. - -Cellini questioned him: the workmen were at supper and did not expect -him until the morrow. He bade the child maintain the most absolute -silence as to his arrival, then crept up to Catherine's room, to which -he had retained a key, entered softly, closed the door, concealed -himself behind the hangings, and waited. - -After a short time, he heard a light footstep on the staircase. The door -opened a second time, and Scozzone entered, lamp in hand; she took the -key from the outside, locked the door, placed the lamp on the -chimneypiece, and sat down in a large arm-chair, so placed that -Benvenuto could see her face. - -To his vast astonishment, that face, formerly so open and joyous and -animated, was sad and thoughtful. The fact was that poor Scozzone was in -the throes of something very like remorse. - -We have seen her when she was happy and thoughtless: then Benvenuto -loved her. So long as she was conscious of that love, or rather of that -kindly feeling in her lover's heart, so long as the hope of becoming the -sculptor's wife some day was present like a golden cloud in all her -dreams, so long she maintained herself at the level of her -anticipations, and made atonement for her past by her love. But as soon -as she discovered that she had been deceived by appearances, and that -what she had mistaken for passion on Cellini's part was at most a mere -whim, she descended the ladder of hope round by round. Benvenuto's -smile, which had made that faded heart blossom anew, was taken from her, -and the heart lost its freshness once more. - -With her childish light-heartedness her childish purity had gradually -vanished; her old nature, powerfully assisted by ennui, gently recovered -the upper hand. A newly painted wall keeps its colors in the sun and -loses them in the rain: Scozzone, abandoned by Cellini for some unknown -mistress, was no longer held to him save by a remnant of her pride. -Pagolo had long paid court to her: she spoke to Cellini of his love, -thinking that his jealousy would be aroused. Her expectation was not -realized: Cellini, instead of losing his temper, began to laugh, and, -instead of forbidding her to see Pagolo, actually ordered her to receive -him. Thereafter she felt that she was entirely lost; thereafter she -abandoned her life to chance with her former indifference, and let it -blow about in the wind of circumstances like a poor, fallen withered -leaf. - -Then it was that Pagolo triumphed over her indifference. After all was -said, Pagolo was young; Pagolo, aside from his hypocritical expression, -was a handsome youth; Pagolo was in love, and was forever repeating to -her that he loved her, while Benvenuto had long since ceased to tell her -so. The words, "I love you," are the language of the heart, and the -heart always feels the need of speaking that language more or less -ardently with some one. - -Thus, in a moment of idleness, of anger, perhaps of illusion, Scozzone -had told Pagolo that she loved him; she had told him so without really -loving him; she had told him so with Cellini's image in her heart and -his name upon her lips. - -Then it immediately occurred to her that the day might come when -Cellini, weary of his mysterious, unavailing passion, would return to -her, and, if he found her constant, notwithstanding his express orders, -would reward her devotion, not by marriage, for the poor girl had lost -her last illusion in that regard, but by some remnant of esteem and -compassion which she might take for a resurrection of his former love. - -It was such thoughts as these which made Scozzone sad and thoughtful, -and caused her to feel remorse. - -In the midst of her silent reverie, she started and raised her head. She -heard a light step on the stairway, and the next moment a key was -rapidly turned in the lock, and the door opened. - -"How did you come in? Who gave you that key, Pagolo?" she cried, rising -from her chair. "There are only two keys to that door,--one is in my -possession and the other in Cellini's." - -"Ah! my dear Catherine," laughed Pagolo, "you're a capricious creature: -sometimes you open your door to a fellow, and again you keep it closed; -and when one attempts to enter by force, even though you have given him -a right to do it, you threaten to call for help. So you see I had to -resort to stratagem." - -"Oh yes! tell me that you stole the key from Cellini, without his -knowledge; tell me that he doesn't know you have it, for if he gave it -to you I should die of shame and chagrin." - -"Set your mind at rest, my lovely Catherine," said Pagolo, locking the -door, and sitting down near the girl, whom he forced to a seat beside -him. "No, Benvenuto doesn't love you, it is true: but he's like those -misers who have a treasure of which they make no use themselves, but -which they won't allow anybody else to touch. No, I made the key myself. -He who can do great things can do small things. Tell me if I love you, -Catherine, when my hands, which are accustomed to making pearls and -diamonds bloom on golden stalks, consented to shape an ignoble piece of -iron. It is true, wicked one, that the ignoble piece of iron was a key, -and that the key unlocked the door of paradise." - -With that, Pagolo would have taken Catherine's hand, but, to the vast -amazement of Cellini, who did not lose a word or a gesture of this -scene, Catherine repulsed him. - -"Well, well," said Pagolo, "is this whim likely to last long, pray?" - -"Look you, Pagolo," said Catherine, in a melancholy tone, which went to -Cellini's heart; "I know that when a woman has once yielded she has no -right to draw back afterward; but if the man for whom she has been so -weak has a generous heart,--when she says to him that she was acting in -good faith at the time, because she had lost her reason, but that she -was mistaken,--it is that man's duty, believe me, not to take an unfair -advantage of her momentary error. Well, Pagolo, I tell you this: I -yielded to you, and yet I did not love you; I loved another, and that -other Cellini. Despise me you may,--indeed you ought,--but torment me no -more, Pagolo." - -"Good!" exclaimed Pagolo, "good! you arrange the matter marvellously -well, upon my word! After the time you compelled me to wait for the -favor with which you now reproach me, you think that I will release you -from a definite engagement which you entered into of your own free will? -No, no! And when I think that you are doing all this for Benvenuto, for -a man who is twice your age or mine, for a man who doesn't love you, -for a man who despises you, for a man who treats you as a courtesan!" - -"Stop, Pagolo, stop!" cried Scozzone, blushing with shame and jealousy -and rage. "Benvenuto doesn't love me any more, that is true; but he did -love me once, and he esteems me still." - -"Very good! Why doesn't he marry you, as he promised to do?" - -"Promised? Never. No, Benvenuto never promised to make me his wife; for -if he had promised, he would have done it. I aspired to mount so high as -that: the aspiration led me to hope that it might be so; and when the -hope had once taken shape in my heart, I could not confine it there, it -overflowed, and I boasted of a mere hope as if it were a reality. No, -Pagolo, no," continued Catherine, letting her hand fall into the -apprentice's with a sad smile,--"no, Benvenuto never promised me aught." - -"Then, see how ungrateful you are, Scozzone!" cried Pagolo, seizing her -hand, and mistaking what was simply a mark of dejection for a return to -him; "you repulse me, who have promised you and offered you all that -Benvenuto, by your own admission, never promised or offered you, while I -am convinced that if he were standing there--he who betrayed you--you -would freely make to him the confession you so bitterly regret having -made to me, who love you so dearly." - -"Oh if he were here!" cried Scozzone, "if he were here, Pagolo, you -would remember that you betrayed him through hatred, while I betrayed -him because I loved him, and you would sink into the ground!" - -"Why so?" demanded Pagolo, bold as a lion because he believed Benvenuto -to be far away; "why so, if you please? Hasn't every man the right to -win a woman's love when that woman doesn't belong to another? If he were -here, I would say to him: 'You abandoned Catherine,--poor Catherine, who -loved you so well. She was in despair at first, until she fell in with a -kind-hearted, worthy fellow, who appreciated her at her true worth, who -loved her, and who promised her what you would never promise her,--to -make her his wife. He has inherited your rights, and that woman belongs -to him.' Tell me, Catherine, what reply your Cellini could make to -that?" - -"None at all," said a stern, manly voice behind the enthusiastic -Pagolo,--"absolutely none at all." - -At the same instant a powerful hand fell upon his shoulder, nipped his -eloquence in the bud, and threw him to the floor, as pale and terrified -as he had been boastful and rash a moment before. - -It was a strange picture: Pagolo on his knees, bent double, with -colorless cheeks, and deadly terror depicted on his features; Scozzone, -half risen from her chair, motionless and dumfounded, like a statue of -Astonishment; and lastly, Benvenuto standing with folded arms, a sword -in its sheath in one hand, a naked sword in the other, with an -expression in which irony and menace struggled for the mastery. - -There was a moment of awful silence, Pagolo and Scozzone being equally -abashed beneath the master's frown. - -"Treachery!" muttered Pagolo, "treachery!" - -"Yes, treachery on your part, wretch!" retorted Cellini. - -"You asked to see him, Pagolo," said Scozzone; "here he is." - -"Yes, here he is," said the apprentice, ashamed to be thus treated -before the woman he was so anxious to please; "but he is armed, and I -have no weapon." - -"I have brought you one," said Cellini, stepping back, and throwing down -the sword he held in his left hand at Pagolo's feet. - -Pagolo looked at the sword, but made no movement. - -"Come," said Cellini, "pick up the sword and stand up yourself. I am -waiting." - -"A duel?" muttered the apprentice, whose teeth were chattering with -terror; "am I able to fight a duel on equal terms with you?" - -"Very well," said Cellini, passing his weapon from one hand to the -other, "I will fight with my left hand, and that will make us equal." - -"I fight with you, my benefactor?--you, to whom I owe everything? Never! -never!" - -A smile of profound contempt overspread Benvenuto's face, while Scozzone -recoiled without seeking to conceal the disgust which showed itself in -her expression. - -"You should have remembered my benefactions before stealing from me the -woman I intrusted to your honor and Ascanio's," said Benvenuto. "Your -memory has come back to you too late. On guard, Pagolo! on guard!" - -"No! no!" murmured the coward, falling back upon his knees. - -"As you refuse to fight like an honest man," said Benvenuto, "I propose -to punish you as a scoundrel." - -He replaced his sword in its sheath, drew his dagger, and walked slowly -toward the apprentice without the slightest indication either of anger -or compassion upon his impassive features. - -Scozzone rushed between them with a shriek; but Benvenuto, without -violence, with a motion of his arm as irresistible as that of a bronze -statue endowed with life, put her aside, and the poor girl fell back -half dead upon her chair. Benvenuto walked on toward Pagolo, who receded -as far as the wall. There the master overtook him, and said, putting his -dagger to his throat,-- - -"Commend your soul to God: you have five minutes to live." - -"Mercy!" cried Pagolo in an inarticulate voice; "do not kill me! mercy! -mercy!" - -"What!" said Cellini, "you know me, and, knowing me, seduced the woman -who belonged to me. I know all, I have discovered everything, and you -hope that I will spare you! You are laughing at me, Pagolo, you are -laughing at me." - -Benvenuto himself laughed aloud as he spoke; but it was a strident, -terrible laugh, which made the apprentice shudder to his marrow. - -"Master! master!" cried Pagolo, as he felt the point of the dagger -pricking his throat; "it was she, not I: yes, she led me into it." - -"Treachery, cowardice, and slander! I will make a group of those three -monsters some day," said Benvenuto, "and it will be a hideous thing to -see. She led you into it, you reptile! Do you forget that I was here and -heard all that you said?" - -"O Benvenuto," murmured Catherine, "you know that he lies when he says -that, do you not?" - -"Yes, yes," said Benvenuto, "I know that he lies when he says that, as -he lied when he said that he was ready to marry you; but never fear, he -shall be punished for the double lie." - -"Yes, punish me," cried Pagolo, "but be merciful: punish me, but do not -kill me." - -"You lied when you said that she led you into it?" - -"Yes, I lied; yes, I am the guilty one. I loved her madly; and you know, -master, what love will lead a man to do." - -"You lied when you said that you were ready to marry her?" - -"No, no, master; then I didn't lie." - -"So you really love Scozzone?" - -"Oh, yes, indeed I love her!" replied Pagolo, realizing that the only -way of lessening his guilt in Cellini's eyes was to attribute his crime -to the violence of his passion; "yes, I love her." - -"And you say again that you were not lying when you proposed to marry -her?" - -"I was not lying, master." - -"You would have made her your wife?" - -"If she had not belonged to you, yes." - -"Very well, then, take her: I give her to you." - -"What do you say? You are joking, are you not?" - -"No, I never spoke more seriously: look at me if you doubt it." - -Pagolo glanced furtively at Cellini, and saw plainly in his face that -the judge might at any moment give place to the executioner; he bowed -his head, therefore, with a groan. - -"Take that ring from your finger, Pagolo, and put it on Catherine's." - -Pagolo passively obeyed the first portion of the order, and Benvenuto -motioned to Scozzone to draw near. She obeyed. - -"Put out your hand, Scozzone," continued Benvenuto. - -Again she obeyed. - -"Now do the rest." - -Pagolo placed the ring upon Scozzone's finger. - -"Now," said Benvenuto, "that the betrothal is duly accomplished, we will -pass to the marriage." - -"Marriage!" muttered Pagolo; "we can't be married in this way; we must -have notaries and a priest." - -"We must have a contract," rejoined Benvenuto, producing the one -prepared under his orders. "Here is one all ready, in which the names -only need to be inserted." - -He placed the contract upon a table, took up a pen and handed it to -Pagolo. - -"Sign, Pagolo," said he, "sign." - -"Ah! I have fallen into a trap," muttered the apprentice. - -"Eh? what's that?" exclaimed Benvenuto, without raising his voice, but -imparting to it an ominous accent. "A trap? Where is the trap in this? -Did I urge you to come to Scozzone's room? Did I advise you to tell her -that you wished to make her your wife? Very good! make her your wife, -Pagolo, and when you are her husband our _rôles_ will be changed; if I -come to her room, it will be your turn to threaten, and mine to be -afraid." - -"Oh, that would be too absurd!" cried Catherine, passing from extreme -terror to hysterical gayety, and laughing aloud at the idea which the -master's words evoked. - -Somewhat reassured by the turn Cellini's threats had taken, and by -Catherine's peals of laughter, Pagolo began to look at matters a little -more reasonably. It became plain to him that Cellini wished to frighten -him into a marriage for which he felt but little inclination: he -considered, therefore, that would be rather too tragic a -termination of the comedy, and that he might perhaps, with a little -resolution, make a better bargain. - -"Yes," he muttered, translating Scozzone's gayety into words, "yes, it -would be very amusing, I agree, but unfortunately it cannot be." - -"What! it cannot be!" cried Benvenuto, as amazed as a lion might be to -find a fox demurring to his will. - -"No, it cannot be," Pagolo repeated; "I prefer to die: kill me!" - -The words were hardly out of his mouth when Cellini was upon him. Pagolo -saw the dagger gleaming in the air, and threw himself to one side, so -swiftly and successfully that the blow which was intended for him simply -grazed his shoulder, and the blade, impelled by the goldsmith's powerful -hand, penetrated the wainscoting to the depth of several inches. - -"I consent," cried Pagolo. "Mercy! Cellini, I consent; I am ready to do -anything." And while the master was withdrawing the dagger, which had -come in contact with the wall behind the wainscoting, he ran to the -table where the contract lay, seized the pen, and wrote his name. The -whole affair had taken place so rapidly that Scozzone had no time to -take part in it. - -"Thanks, Pagolo," said she, wiping away the tears which terror had -brought to her eyes, and at the same time repressing an inclination to -smile; "thanks, dear Pagolo, for the honor you consent to confer upon -me; but it's better that we should understand each other thoroughly now, -so listen to me. Just now you would have none of me, and now I will have -none of you. I don't say this to mortify you, Pagolo, but I do not love -you, and I desire to remain as I am." - -"In that case," said Benvenuto, with the utmost coolness, "if you won't -have him, Scozzone, he must die." - -"Why," cried Catherine, "it is I who refuse him." - -"He must die," rejoined Benvenuto; "it shall not be said that a man -insulted me, and went unpunished. Are you ready, Pagolo?" - -"Catherine," cried the apprentice, "Catherine, in Heaven's name take -pity on me! Catherine, I love you! Catherine, I will love you always! -Sign, Catherine! Catherine be my wife, I beg you on my knees!" - -"Come, Scozzone, decide quickly," said Cellini. - -"Oh!" said Catherine, pouting, "tell me, master, don't you think you are -rather hard on me, who have loved you so dearly, and who have dreamed of -something so different? But," cried the fickle child, passing suddenly -from melancholy to merriment once more, "Mon Dieu! Cellini, see what a -piteous face poor Pagolo is making! Oh, for Heaven's sake, put aside -that lugubrious expression, Pagolo, or I will never consent to take you -for my husband! Really, you are too absurd!" - -"Save me first, Catherine," said Pagolo; "then we will laugh, if you -choose." - -"Oh well! my poor boy, if you really and truly wish it--" - -"Yes, indeed I do!" - -"You know what I have been, you know what I am?" - -"Yes, I know." - -"You are not deceived in me?" - -"No." - -"You will not regret it?" - -"No! no!" - -"Then give me your hand. It's very ridiculous, and I hardly expected it; -but, no matter, I am your wife." - -She took the pen and signed, as a dutiful wife should do, below her -husband's signature. - -"Thanks, Catherine, thanks!" cried Pagolo; "you will see how happy I -will make you." - -"If he is false to that promise," said Benvenuto, "write to me, -Scozzone, and wherever I may be I will come in person to remind him of -it." - -As he spoke, Cellini slowly pushed his dagger back into its sheath, -keeping his eyes fixed upon the apprentice; then he took the contract, -folded it neatly, and put it in his pocket, and said to Pagolo, with the -withering sarcasm which was characteristic of him:-- - -"Now, friend Pagolo, although you and Scozzone are duly married -according to the laws of men, you are not in God's sight, and the Church -will not sanctify your union until to-morrow. Until then your presence -here would be in contravention of all laws, divine and human. Good -night, Pagolo." - -Pagolo turned pale as death; but as Benvenuto pointed imperatively to -the door, he backed out of the room. - -"No one but you, Cellini, would ever have had such an idea as that," -said Catherine, laughing as if she would die. "Hark ye, my poor Pagolo," -she said, as he opened the door, "I let you go because the law requires -it; but never fear, Pagolo, I swear by the Blessed Virgin, that when you -are my husband no man, not even Benvenuto himself, will find me anything -but a virtuous wife. - -"O Cellini!" she added, gayly, when the door was closed, "you give me a -husband, but relieve me of his presence for to-day. It is so much time -gained: you owed me this reparation." - - - - -XXI - - -RESUMPTION OF HOSTILITIES - - -Three days after the scene we have described, a scene of quite another -sort was in preparation at the Louvre. - -Monday, the day appointed for signing the contract, had arrived. It was -eleven o'clock in the morning when Benvenuto left the Hôtel de Nesle, -went straight to the Louvre, and with anxious heart but firm step -ascended the grand staircase. - -In the reception-room, into which he was first ushered, he found the -provost and D'Orbec, who were conferring with a notary in the corner. -Colombe, pale and motionless as a statue, was seated on the other side -of the room, staring into vacancy. They had evidently moved away from -her so that she could not hear, and the poor child had remained where -they placed her. - -Cellini passed in front of her, and let these words fall upon her bowed -head:-- - -"Have courage: I am here." - -Colombe recognized his voice, and raised her head with a cry of joy; but -before she had time to question her protector, he had already entered -the adjoining room. - -An usher drew aside a tapestry portière, and the goldsmith passed into -the king's cabinet. - -Nothing less than these words of cheer would have availed to revive -Colombo's courage: the poor child believed that she was abandoned, and -consequently lost. Messire d'Estourville had dragged her thither, half -dead, despite her faith in God and in Benvenuto. As they were setting -out, she was conscious of such a feeling of despair at her heart, that -she implored Madame d'Etampes to allow her to enter a convent, promising -to renounce Ascanio provided that she might be spared Comte d'Orbec. But -the duchess wanted no half victory; in order that her purpose might be -attained, it was essential that Ascanio should believe in the treachery -of his beloved, and so she sternly refused to listen to poor Colombe's -prayers. Thereupon, Colombe summoned all her courage, remembering that -Benvenuto bade her be strong and brave, even at the altar's foot, and -with occasional sinkings of the heart allowed herself to be taken to the -Louvre, where the king was to sign the contract at noon. - -There again her strength failed her for a moment; for but three chances -now remained, to touch the king's heart with her prayers, to see -Benvenuto arrive, or to die of grief. - -Benvenuto had come; Benvenuto had told her to hope, and Colombe's -courage revived once more. - -On entering the king's cabinet, Cellini found Madame d'Etampes alone: it -was all that he desired; he would have solicited the honor of seeing her -had she not been there. - -The duchess was thoughtful in her hour of triumph, and yet, with the -fatal letter burned--burned by herself--she was fully convinced that she -had nothing to fear. But although she was reassured as to her power, she -contemplated with dismay the perils that threatened her love. It was -always thus with the duchess: when the anxiety attendant upon her -ambition was at rest, the ardent passions of her heart devoured her. Her -dream, in which pride and passion were mingled, was to make Ascanio -great while making him happy. But she knew now that Ascanio, although of -noble origin, (for the Gaddis, to which family he belonged, were -patricians of long standing at Florence,) aspired to no other glory than -that of being a great artist. - -If his hopes were ever fixed upon anything, it was some beautifully -shaped vase, or ewer, or statue; if he ever longed for diamonds or -pearls, it was so that he might make of them, by setting them in chased -gold, lovelier flowers than those which heaven waters with its dew. -Titles and honors were nothing to him if they did not flow from his own -talent, and were not the guerdon of his personal renown; what part could -such a useless dreamer play in the active, agitated life of the duchess? -In the first storm the delicate plant would be destroyed, with the -flowers which it already bore and the fruit of which it gave promise. It -might be that he would allow himself to be drawn into the schemes of his -royal mistress through discouragement or through indifference; but in -that case, a pale and melancholy shadow, he would live only in his -memories of the past. Ascanio, in fine, appeared to the Duchesse -d'Etampes, as he really was, an exquisite, fascinating personality, so -long as he remained in a pure, untroubled atmosphere; he was an adorable -child, who would never become a man. He could devote himself to -sentiments, but never to ideas; born to enjoy the outpourings of a -mutual affection, he would inevitably go down in the first terrific -onset of the struggle for supremacy and power. He was the man needed to -satisfy Madame d'Etampes's passion, but not to keep pace with her in her -ambitious schemes. - -Such was the tenor of her reflections when Benvenuto entered: the clouds -of her thought hovering about her darkened her brow. - -The two adversaries eyed each other narrowly: the same satirical smile -appeared upon their lips at the same time; the glances they exchanged -were twin brothers, and indicated that they were equally prepared for -the struggle, and that 'the struggle would be a desperate one. - -"Well and good! he is a rough fighter," thought Anne, "whom it will be a -pleasure to overcome, a foeman worthy of my steel. But to-day there are, -in truth, too many chances against him, and there will be no great glory -in overthrowing him." - -"Beyond question, Madame d'Etampes," said Benvenuto to himself, "you are -a masterful woman, and more than one contest with a strong man has given -me less trouble than this I have entered upon with you. You may be sure, -therefore, that, while fighting courteously, I shall none the less fight -with all the weapons at my disposal." - -There was a moment's silence while the combatants delivered themselves -of these brief monologues aside. The duchess was the first to break the -silence. - -"You are punctual, Master Cellini," said she. "His Majesty is to sign -Comte d'Orbec's contract at noon, and it is now only a quarter past -eleven. Permit me to make his Majesty's excuses: he is not behindhand, -but you are beforehand." - -"I am very happy, madame, that I arrived too early, as my impatience -procures me the honor of a _tête-à-tête_ with you,--an honor I should -have requested most urgently, had not chance, to which I return my -thanks, anticipated my wishes." - -"Good lack, Benvenuto!" said the duchess; "does defeat incline you to -flattery?" - -"Not my own defeat, madame, but that of other persons. I have always -considered it peculiarly meritorious to pay my court to one in disgrace; -and here is the proof of it, madame." - -As he spoke, Benvenuto drew from beneath his cloak Ascanio's golden -lily, which he had completed that morning. The duchess exclaimed with -wonder and delight. Never had her eyes beheld such a marvellous jewel, -never did one of the flowers found in the enchanted gardens of the -"Thousand and One Nights" so dazzle the eyes of peri or fairy. - -"Ah!" cried the duchess, putting forth her hand to take the flower, "you -promised me, Benvenuto, but I confess that I did not rely upon your -promise." - -"Why should you not rely upon it, madame?" laughed Benvenuto. "You -insult me." - -"Oh! if you had promised to perform a revengeful, instead of a gallant -act, I should have been much more certain that you would redeem your -promise punctually." - -"Who told you that I did not promise both?" retorted Benvenuto, drawing -back his hand, so that the lily was still in his control. - -"I do not understand you," said the duchess. - -"Do you not think," said Benvenuto, pointing to the diamond shimmering -in the heart of the flower--the diamond which she owed to the corrupting -munificence of Charles V.--"that when mounted in the guise of a dewdrop, -the earnest given to bind a certain bargain which is to set off the -Duchy of Milan from France has a fine effect?" - -"You speak in enigmas, my dear goldsmith; unfortunately the king will -soon be here, and I haven't time to guess them." - -"I will tell you the answer, then. It is an old proverb, _Verba, volant, -scripta manent_, which, being interpreted, means, 'What is written is -written.'" - -"Ah! that's where you are in error, my dear goldsmith; what is written -is burned: so do not think to frighten me as you would a child, and give -me the lily which belongs to me." - -"One instant, madame; I ought to warn you that while it is a magic -talisman in my hands, it will lose all its virtue in yours. My work is -even more valuable than you think. Where the multitude sees only a -jewel, we artists sometimes conceal an idea. Do you wish me to show you -this idea, madame? Nothing is easier: look, all that is necessary is to -press this invisible spring. The stalk opens, as you see, and in the -heart of the flower we find, not a gnawing worm, as in some natural -flowers and some false hearts, but something similar, worse it may -be,--the dishonor of the Duchesse d'Etampes, written with her own hand -and signed by her." - -As he spoke, Benvenuto pressed the spring, opened the stalk, and took -out the letter. He slowly unfolded it, and showed it, open, to the -duchess, pale with wrath, and stricken dumb with dismay. - -"You hardly expected this, did you, madame?" said Benvenuto, coolly, -folding the letter once more, and replacing it in the lily. "If you knew -my ways, madame, you would be less surprised. A year ago I concealed a -ladder in a statuette; a month ago I concealed a maiden in a statue. -What was there that I could hide away in a flower to-day? A bit of -paper, that was all, and that is what I have done." - -"But that letter," cried the duchess, "that infernal letter I burned -with my own hands: I saw the flame and touched the ashes!" - -"Did you read the letter you burned?" - -"No! no! madwoman that I was, I did not read it!" - -"That is too bad, for you would be convinced now that the letter of a -grisette will make as much flame and ashes as the letter of a duchess." - -"Why, then, Ascanio, the dastard, deceived me!" - -"Oh madame! pray pause! Do not suspect that pure and innocent child, -who, even if he had deceived you, would have done no more than turn -against you the weapons you used against him. Oh no, no! he did not -deceive you; he would not purchase his own life or Colombe's by deceit! -No, he was himself deceived." - -"By whom? Pray tell me that." - -"By a mere boy, a student, the same who wounded your trusty retainer, -Vicomte de Marmagne; by one Jacques Aubry, in short, whom it is likely -that the Vicomte de Marmagne has mentioned to you." - -"Yes," murmured the duchess, "yes, Marmagne did tell me that this -student, this Jacques Aubry, was seeking to gain access to Ascanio in -order to secure that letter." - -"And it was after that you paid Ascanio a visit. But students are -active, you know, and ours had already anticipated you. As you left the -Hôtel d'Etampes, he was creeping into his friend's cell, and as you -entered it, he went out." - -"But I didn't see him; I saw nobody." - -"One doesn't think to look everywhere; if you had done so, you would, in -due course, have raised a certain mat, and under that mat would have -found a hole communicating with the adjoining cell." - -"But Ascanio, Ascanio?" - -"When you entered he was asleep, was he not?" - -"Yes." - -"Very good! during his sleep, Aubry, to whom he had refused to give the -letter, took it from his coat pocket, and put a letter of his own in its -place. You were misled by the envelope, and thought that you were -burning a note from Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes. Not so, madame; you -burned an epistle penned by Mademoiselle Gervaise-Perrette Popinot." - -"But this Aubry, who wounded Marmagne, this clown, who almost murdered a -nobleman, will pay dear for his insolence; he is in prison and condemned -to death." - -"He is free, madame, and owes his freedom in great measure to you." - -"How so?" - -"Why, who but he was the poor prisoner whose pardon you joined me in -urging upon King François?" - -"Oh insane fool that I was!" muttered the duchess, biting her lips till -the blood ran. She looked Benvenuto squarely in the eye for a moment, -then continued, in a panting voice,-- - -"On what condition will you give me that letter?" - -"I think I have allowed you to guess, madame." - -"I am not skilled in guessing: tell me." - -"You must ask the king to bestow Colombe's hand upon Ascanio." - -"Go to!" rejoined Anne with a forced laugh; "you little know the -Duchesse d'Etampes, Master Goldsmith, if you fancy that my love will -yield to threats." - -"You did not reflect before answering me, madame." - -"I stand by my answer, however." - -"Kindly permit me to sit down unceremoniously, madame, and to talk -plainly with you a moment," said Benvenuto, with the dignified -familiarity peculiar to superior men. "I am only an humble sculptor, and -you are a great duchess; but let me tell you that, notwithstanding the -distance which separates us, we were made to understand each other. Do -not assume those queenly airs: they will have no effect. It is not my -purpose to insult you, but to enlighten you, and your haughty manner is -out of place because your pride is not at stake." - -"You are a strange man, upon my word," said Anne, laughing in spite of -herself. "Say on, I am listening." - -"I was saying, Madame la Duchesse," continued Benvenuto, coolly, "that, -despite the difference in our fortunes, our positions are almost the -same, and that we could understand each other, and perhaps mutually -assist each other. You cried out when I suggested that you should -renounce Ascanio; it seemed to you impossible and mad, and yet I had set -you an example, madame." - -"An example?" - -"Yes, as you love Ascanio, I loved Colombe." - -"You?" - -"I. I loved her as I had never loved but once. I would have given my -blood, my life, my soul for her, and yet I gave her to Ascanio." - -"Truly a most unselfish passion," sneered the duchess. - -"Oh! do not make my suffering matter for raillery, madame; do not mock -at my agony. I have suffered keenly; but I realized that the child was -no more made for me than Ascanio for you. Listen, madame: we are both, -if I may be pardoned for the comparison, of those exceptional and -uncommon natures which lead an existence of their own, have feelings and -emotions peculiar to themselves, and rarely find themselves in accord -with others. We both obey, madame, a sovereign idol, the worship of -which has expanded our hearts and placed us higher than mankind. To you, -madame, ambition is all in all; to me, art. Now our divinities are -jealous, and exert their sway always and everywhere. You desired Ascanio -as a crown, I desired Colombe as a Galatea. You loved as a duchess, I as -an artist. You have persecuted, I have suffered. Oh! do not think that -I wrong you in my thoughts; I admire your energy, and sympathize with -your audacity. Let the vulgar think what they will: from your point of -view it is a great thing to turn the world upside down in order to make -a place for the person one loves. I recognize therein a strong and -masterful passion, and I admire characters capable of such heroic -crimes; but I also admire superhuman characters, for everything which -eludes foresight, everything outside the beaten paths, has an attraction -for me. Even while I loved Colombe, madame, I considered that my -domineering, unruly nature would be ill mated with that pure angelic -soul. Colombe loved Ascanio, my harmless, sweet-natured pupil; my rough, -vigorous temperament would have frightened her. Thereupon, in a loud, -imperative tone, I bade my love hold its peace, and as it remonstrated I -called to my assistance my art divine, and by our united efforts we -floored the rebellious passion and held it down. Then Sculpture, my -true, my only mistress, touched my brow with her burning lips, and I was -comforted. Do as I have done, Madame la Duchesse, leave these children -to their angel loves and do not disturb them in their heaven. Our domain -is earth, with its sorrows, its conflicts, and its intoxicating -triumphs. Seek a refuge against suffering in ambition; unmake empires to -distract your thoughts; play with the kings and masters of the world to -amuse yourself. That would be well done, and I would applaud your -efforts. But do not wreck the peace and happiness of these poor -innocents, who love each other with such a pure, sweet love, before the -face of God and the Virgin Mary." - -"Who are you, Master Benvenuto Cellini? I do not know you," said the -duchess in blank amazement. "Who are you?" - -"Vrai Dieu! a man among men, as you are a woman among women," rejoined -the goldsmith, laughing with his customary frankness; "and if you do not -know me, you see that I have a great advantage over you, for I do know -you, madame." - -"It may be so," said the duchess, "but it is my opinion that a woman -among women loves better and more earnestly than a man among men, for -she snaps her fingers at your superhuman abnegation, and defends her -lover with beak and claws to the last gasp." - -"You persist, then, in refusing to give Ascanio to Colombe?" - -"I persist in loving him myself." - -"So be it. But if you will not yield with good grace, beware! I am -somewhat rough when I am roused, and may make you cry out a little in -the _mêlée_. You have reflected fully, have you not? You refuse once -for all your consent to the union of Ascanio and Colombe." - -"Most emphatically, yes." - -"Very good! to our posts!" cried Benvenuto, "for the battle is on." - -At that moment the door opened and an usher announced the king. - - - - -XXII - - -A LOVE MATCH - - -François appeared on the threshold, giving his hand to Diane de -Poitiers, with whom he had come from the bedside of his sick son. Diane, -inspired by her hatred, had a vague feeling that her rival was -threatened with humiliation, and did not choose to miss the gratifying -spectacle. - -As for the king, he saw nothing, suspected nothing; he believed Madame -d'Etampes and Benvenuto to be entirely reconciled, and as he saw them -talking together when he entered, he saluted them both at once, with the -same smile, and the same inclination of the head. - -"Good morrow, my queen of beauty; good morrow, my king of artists," he -said; "what are you talking about so confidentially? You seem both to be -deeply interested." - -"Mon Dieu! Sire, we are talking politics," said Benvenuto. - -"And what particular subject exercises your faculties? Tell me, I beg." - -"The question which engrosses everybody at present, Sire," continued the -goldsmith. - -"Ah! the Duchy of Milan." - -"Yes, Sire." - -"Well, what were you saying of it?" - -"We do not agree, Sire; one of us maintains that the Emperor might well -refuse to give you the Duchy of Milan, and yet redeem his promise by -giving it to your son Charles." - -"Which of you makes that suggestion?" - -"I think that it was Madame d'Etampes, Sire." - -The duchess became pale as death. - -"If the Emperor should do that, it would be infamous treachery," said -François; "but he'll not do it." - -"In any event, even if he does not do it," said Diane, joining in the -conversation, "it will not be, I am assured, for lack of advice given -him to that effect." - -"Given by whom?" cried the king. "By Mahomet's belly! I would be glad to -know by whom?" - -"Bon Dieu! do not be so disturbed, Sire," rejoined Benvenuto; "we said -that as we said other things,--simple conjectures, put forward by us in -desultory talk. Madame la Duchesse and I are but bungling politicians, -Sire. Madame la Duchesse is too much of a woman to think of aught beside -her toilet, although she has no need to think of that; and I, Sire, am -too much of an artist to think of aught beside art. Is it not so, Madame -la Duchesse?" - -"The truth is, my dear Cellini," said François, "that each of you has -too glorious a part to play to envy others aught that they may have, -even though it were the Duchy of Milan. Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes is -queen by virtue of her beauty, and you are king by virtue of your -talent." - -"King, Sire?" - -"Yes, king; and although you haven't, as I have, three lilies in your -crest, you have one in your hand, which seems to me to be lovelier than -any that ever blossomed in the brightest sunlight or upon the fairest -field in all heraldry." - -"This lily is not mine, Sire; it belongs to Madame d'Etampes, who -commissioned my pupil Ascanio to make it; but as he could not finish it, -and as I realized Madame d'Etampes's desire to have so rich a jewel in -her possession, I set to work myself and finished it, wishing with all -my heart to make it the symbol of the treaty of peace which we ratified -the other day in your Majesty's presence." - -"It is marvellously beautiful," said the king, putting out his hand to -take it. - -"Is it not, sire?" rejoined Benvenuto, withdrawing it as if without -design, "and the young artist, whose _chef-d'œuvre_ it is, certainly -deserves to be magnificently rewarded." - -"Such is my purpose," interposed the duchess; "I have in store for him a -recompense which a king might envy him." - -"But you know, madame, that the recompense to which you refer, splendid -as it is, is not that upon which his heart is fixed. What would you -have, madame? We artists are whimsical creatures, and often the thing -which would, as you say, arouse a king's envy, is viewed by us with -disdainful eye." - -"Nevertheless," said Madame d'Etampes, as an angry flush overspread her -face, "he must be content with what I have set apart for him; for I have -already told you, Benvenuto, that I would accord him no other save at -the last extremity." - -"Very well, you may confide to me what his wishes are," said François -to Benvenuto, once more putting out his hand for the lily, "and if it's -not too difficult a matter, we will try to arrange it." - -"Observe the jewel carefully, Sire," said Benvenuto, placing the stalk -of the flower in the king's hand; "examine it in detail, and your -Majesty will see that any compensation whatsoever must fall short of the -value of such a masterpiece." - -As he spoke, Benvenuto darted a keen glance at the duchess; but her -self-control was so perfect, that not a muscle of her face moved as she -saw the lily pass from the artist's hand to the king's. - -"'T is really miraculous," said the king. "But where did you find this -superb diamond which glistens in the heart of the flower?" - -"I did not find it, Sire," replied Cellini, with charming affability; -"Madame d'Etampes furnished it to my pupil." - -"I was not aware that you owned this diamond, madame; whence came it to -your hands, pray?" - -"Why, probably from the place where most diamonds come from, Sire; from -the mines of Guzarate or Golconda." - -"There is a long story connected with that diamond, Sire, and if your -Majesty cares to hear it, I will tell it you. The diamond and I are old -acquaintances, for this is the third time it has passed through my -hands. In the first place, I set it in the tiara of our Holy Father, the -Pope, where its effect was marvellous; then, by order of Clement VII., I -mounted it upon a missal which his Holiness presented to the Emperor -Charles V.; and as the Emperor desired to carry it constantly about him, -as a resource doubtless in an emergency, I set the diamond, which is -worth more than a million, in a ring, Sire. Hid not your Majesty observe -it on the hand of your cousin, the Emperor?" - -"Yes, I remember," cried the king; "yes, on the day of our first -interview he had it on his finger. How comes the diamond in your -possession, duchess!" - -"Yes, tell us," cried Diane, whose eyes shone with joy, "how came it -about that a diamond of that value passed from the Emperor's hands to -yours?" - -"If the question were put to you, madame," retorted Madame d'Etampes, -"the answer would not be far to seek, assuming that you confess certain -matters to any other than your confessor." - -"You do not answer the king's question, madame," rejoined Diane. - -"Yes," said François, "how comes the diamond in your possession?" - -"Ask Benvenuto," said Madame d'Etampes, hurling a last defiance at her -enemy; "Benvenuto will tell you." - -"Tell me, then," said the king, "and instantly: I am weary of waiting." - -"Very good, Sire," said Benvenuto; "I must confess to your Majesty that -at sight of this diamond strange suspicions awoke in my mind, as in -yours. It was while Madame d'Etampes and myself were at enmity, you must -know, and I should not have been sorry to learn some little secret which -might injure her in your Majesty's eyes. So I followed the scent, and I -learned--" - -"You learned?" - -Benvenuto glanced hastily at the duchess, and saw that she was smiling. -The power of resistance which she manifested pleased him, and, instead -of putting an end to the struggle brutally with one stroke, he resolved -to prolong it, like au athlete, sure of victory in the end, who, having -fallen in with an antagonist worthy of him, resolves to display all his -strength and all his skill. - -"You learned--" the king repeated. - -"I learned that she purchased it of Manasseh, the Jew. Yes, Sire, know -this and govern yourself accordingly: it seems that since he entered -France your cousin, the Emperor, has scattered so much money along the -road, that he is reduced to putting his diamonds in pawn; and Madame -d'Etampes, with royal magnificence, gathers in what the imperial poverty -cannot retain." - -"Ah! by my honor as a gentleman, 't is most diverting!" cried François, -doubly flattered in his vanity as lover, and in his jealousy as king. -"But, fair lady," he added, addressing the duchess, "methinks you must -have ruined yourself in order to make such an acquisition, and it is for -us to repair the disordered state of your finances. Remember that we are -your debtor to the value of the diamond, for it is so magnificent that I -am determined that it shall come to you from a king's hand at least, if -not from an emperor's." - -"Thanks, Benvenuto," said the duchess in an undertone; "I begin to -believe, as you claim, that we were made to understand each other." - -"What are you saying?" cried the king. - -"Oh, nothing, Sire! I was apologizing to the duchess for my first -suspicion, which she deigns to pardon,--a favor which is the more -generous on her part, in that the lily gave birth to another suspicion." - -"What was that?" demanded the king, while Diane, whose hate was too keen -to allow her to be deceived by this comedy, devoured her triumphant -rival with her eyes. - -Madame d'Etampes saw that she was not yet quit of her indefatigable foe, -and a shadow of dread passed across her face, but it should be said, in -justice to her courage, only to disappear immediately. - -Furthermore, she availed herself of the king's preoccupation, caused by -Benvenuto's words, to try to gain possession of the lily; but Benvenuto -carelessly placed himself between the king and her. - -"What was the suspicion? Oh!" the goldsmith said with a smile, "it was -so infamous that I am not sure that I shouldn't be ashamed of having -had it, and that it would not add to my offence to be so shameless as to -avow it. I must have an express command from your Majesty before I -should dare--" - -"Dare, Cellini! I command you!" said the king. - -"So be it. In the first place," said Cellini, "I confess with an -artist's candid pride, that I was surprised to see Madame d'Etampes -intrust the apprentice with a task which the master would have been -happy and proud to execute for her. You remember my apprentice, Ascanio, -Sire? He is a charming youth, who might venture to pose for Endymion, -upon my word." - -"Well! what then?" said the king, his brows contracting at the suspicion -which began to gnaw his heart. - -This time it was evident that, for all her self-control, Madame -d'Etampes was on the rack. In the first place she read malicious -curiosity in the eyes of Diane de Poitiers, and in the second place she -was well aware that, while François might have forgiven treason to the -king, he certainly would not forgive infidelity to the lover. However, -as if he did not notice her agony, Benvenuto continued:-- - -"I reflected upon the beauty of my Ascanio, and it occurred to -me--forgive me, mesdames, if there was anything in the thought which -seems to cast a reflection upon the French, but I am accustomed to the -ways of our Italian princesses, who, in love, it must be confessed, are -very weak creatures--it occurred to me that a sentiment which had little -connection with art--" - -"Master," said François, frowning darkly, "reflect before you speak." - -"I apologized beforehand for my temerity, and asked to be permitted to -hold my peace." - -"I bear witness to that," said Diane; "you yourself bade him speak, -Sire; and now that he has begun--" - -"It is always time to stop," said Madame d'Etampes, "when one knows that -what one is about to say is a falsehood." - -"I will stop if you choose, madame," said Benvenuto; "you know that you -have but to say the word." - -"Yes, but I choose that he shall continue. You are right, Diane; there -are matters here which must be probed to the bottom. Say on, monsieur, -say on," said the king, keeping his eyes fixed upon the sculptor and the -duchess. - -"My conjectures were taking a wide range when an incredible discovery -opened a new field to them." - -"What was it?" cried the king and Diane de Poitiers in the same breath. - -"I am getting in very deep," whispered Cellini to the duchess. - -"Sire," said she, "you do not need to hold the lily in your hand to -listen to this long discourse. Your Majesty is so accustomed to hold a -sceptre in a firm grasp, that I fear the fragile flower may be broken in -your fingers." - -As she spoke, the duchess, with one of those smiles which belonged to -her alone, put out her hand to take the jewel. - -"Forgive me, Madame la Duchesse," said Cellini; "but as the lily plays -an important part throughout my story, permit me to enforce my words -with ocular demonstration." - -"The lily plays an important part in the story you have to tell, -master?" cried Diane, snatching the flower from the king's hand with a -movement swift as thought. "In that case, Madame d'Etampes is right, for -if the story is at all what I suspect, it is much better that the lily -should be in my hands than in yours, Sire; for, purposely or not, your -Majesty might, by some uncontrollable impulse, break it." - -Madame d'Etampes became terribly pale, for she deemed herself lost; she -hastily seized Benvenuto's hand, and her lips opened to speak, but -almost immediately she thought better of it. Her hand let the artist's -fall, and her lips closed again. - -"Say what you have to say," she muttered through her clenched -teeth,--"if you dare!" she added in so low a tone that Benvenuto alone -could hear. - -"Yes, and measure your words, my master," said the king. - -"And do you, madame, measure your silence," said Benvenuto. - -"We are waiting!" cried Diane, unable to restrain her impatience. - -"Fancy, Sire, and you, madame, fancy that Ascanio and Madame la Duchesse -d'Etampes corresponded." - -The duchess looked about to see if there were not at hand some weapon -with which she could silence the goldsmith's tongue forever. - -"Corresponded?" echoed the king. - -"Yes, corresponded; and the most extraordinary thing is that the subject -of this correspondence between Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes and the -humble carver's apprentice was love." - -"The proofs, master! you have proofs, I trust!" cried the king, in a -rage. - -"O mon Dieu! yes, Sire," replied Benvenuto. "Your Majesty must -understand that I should not have allowed myself to form such suspicions -without proofs." - -"Produce them instantly, then," said the king. - -"When I say that I have them, I am in error: your Majesty had them a -moment since." - -"I!" cried the king. - -"And Madame de Poitiers has them now." - -"I!" cried Diane. - -"Yes," rejoined Benvenuto, who, amid the king's wrath, and the hatred -and terror of the two most powerful women in the world, was perfectly -cool and complacent. "Yes, for the proofs are in the lily." - -"In the lily?" cried the king, snatching the flower from the hands of -Diane de Poitiers, and examining it with a careful scrutiny, in which -love of art had no share. "In this lily?" - -"Yes, Sire, in the lily," Benvenuto repeated. "You know that it is so, -madame," he continued in a meaning tone, toward the gasping duchess. - -"Let us come to terms," she whispered; "Colombe shall not marry -D'Orbec." - -"That is not enough," returned Cellini; "Ascanio must marry Colombe." - -"Never!" exclaimed Madame d'Etampes. - -Meanwhile the king was turning the fatal lily over and over in his -fingers, his suspense and wrath being the more poignant in that he dared -not express them openly. - -"The proofs are in the lily! in the lily!" he repeated; "but I can see -nothing in the lily." - -"Because your Majesty does not know the secret of opening it." - -"There is a secret. Show it me, messire, on the instant, or rather--" - -François made a movement as if to crush the flower, but both women -cried out, and he checked himself. - -"Oh Sire! it would be a pity," cried Diane; "such a charming toy! Give -it to me, Sire, and I promise you that if there is a secret I will find -it." - -Her slender, active fingers, to which hatred lent additional subtlety, -passed over all the rough places on the jewel, felt in all the hollows, -while the Duchesse d'Etampes, half fainting, followed with haggard eyes -her investigations, which for a moment were without result. But at last, -whether by good luck, or a rival's instinct of divination, Diane touched -the precise spot on the stalk. - -The flower opened. - -The two women cried out again at the same moment; one with joy, the -other with dismay. The duchess darted forward to tear the lily from -Diane's hand, but Benvenuto held her back with one hand, while with the -other he showed her the letter which he had taken from its hiding place. -A swift glance at the flower showed her that the hiding place was empty. - -"I agree to everything," said the duchess, completely crushed, and too -weak to maintain such a contest. - -"On the Gospel?" said Benvenuto. - -"On the Gospel." - -"Well, master," said the king, impatiently, "where are the proofs? I see -a recess very cleverly hollowed out in the stalk, but there is nothing -within it." - -"No, sire, there is nothing," said Benvenuto. - -"True, but there might have been something," suggested Diane. - -"Madame is right," said Benvenuto. - -"Master!" cried the king through his clenched teeth "do you know that it -may be dangerous for you to prolong this pleasantry, and that stronger -men than you have repented playing with my anger?" - -"For that reason I should be in despair were I to incur it, Sire," -rejoined Cellini, without losing his composure; "but there is nothing in -the present circumstances to arouse it, for I trust your Majesty did not -take my words seriously. Should I have dared to bring so grave an -accusation so lightly? Madame d'Etampes can show you the letters this -lily contained, if you are curious to see them. They are in fact -concerned with love, but it is the love of my poor Ascanio for a noble -demoiselle,--a passion which at first seems insane and impossible, -doubtless; but my Ascanio, like the true artist he is, fancying that a -beautiful jewel falls not far short of equalling in value a beautiful -maiden, applied to Madame d'Etampes as to a special providence, and made -this lily his messenger. Now, you know, Sire, that Providence can do -anything, and you will not be jealous of this particular one, I fancy, -since, while doing a kindly action, she attributes part of the credit to -you. That is the solution of the enigma, Sire, and if all the beating -about the bush I have indulged in has offended your Majesty, I pray you -to forgive me in consideration of the familiarity to which you have been -graciously pleased to admit me." - -This quasi academic harangue changed the face of affairs. As Benvenuto -went on, Diane's brow grew dark, while the wrinkles vanished from that -of Madame d'Etampes, and the king resumed his smiling good humor. When -Benvenuto had finished,-- - -"Forgive me, fair duchess," said François, "for having dared to suspect -you for an instant. Tell me what I can do to redeem my offence and earn -my forgiveness." - -"Grant the request which Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes is about to make, -as your Majesty heretofore granted the one that I made." - -"Speak for me, Master Cellini, since you know what it is that I wish," -said the duchess with better grace than Cellini would have thought -possible. - -"Very well: since Madame la Duchesse appoints me to be her mouthpiece, -Sire, you must know that she desires your all-powerful intervention in -favor of poor Ascanio's passion." - -"Yes, yes!" laughed the king; "I agree with all my heart to assist in -making the comely apprentice a happy man. What is the name of his -sweetheart?" - -"Colombe d'Estourville, sire." - -"Colombe d'Estourville!" cried François. - -"I pray your Majesty to remember that it is Madame d'Etampes who -proffers this request. Come, madame, add your prayers to mine," he -added, causing a corner of the letter to protrude from his pocket, "for -if you are silent much longer, his Majesty will think that you make the -request solely from a desire to oblige me." - -"Is it true that you desire this marriage, madame?" inquired François. - -"Yes, Sire," murmured Madame d'Etampes; "I do desire it--earnestly." - -The adverb was extracted by a fresh exhibition of the letter. - -"But how do I know," said the king, "that the provost will accept for -his son-in-law a nameless, penniless youth?" - -"In the first place, Sire," Benvenuto replied, "the provost, being a -loyal subject, will surely have no other will than his king's. In the -second place, Ascanio is not nameless; he is a Gaddo Gaddi, and one of -his ancestors was Podesta of Florence. He is a goldsmith, it is true, -but in Italy it is no disgrace to belong to that guild. Furthermore, -even if he could boast of no ancient nobility, as I am at liberty to -insert his name in the letters patent which have been forwarded to me by -your Majesty's directions, he will be a nobleman of recent creation. Oh, -think not that it requires any sacrifice on my part to resign in his -favor. To reward my Ascanio is to reward myself twice over. So it is -settled, Sire, that he is Seigneur de Nesle, and I will not let him want -for money. He may, if he will, lay aside his profession, and buy a -company of lances, or an appointment at court. I will provide the -funds." - -"And we shall look to it, you may be sure, that your generosity does not -lighten your purse too much." - -"Then I may consider, Sire--" - -"Ascanio Gaddo Gaddi, Seigneur de Nesle, let it be!" cried the king, -laughing heartily: the certainty that Madame d'Etampes was faithful to -him had put him in a joyous humor. - -"Madame," said Cellini, in an undertone, "you cannot in conscience leave -the Seigneur de Nesle at the Châtelet; it was well enough for Ascanio." - -Madame d'Etampes called an officer of the guards, and whispered a few -words, the concluding ones being these:-- - -"In the king's name!" - -"What are you doing, madame?" demanded François. - -"Madame d'Etampes is simply sending a messenger for the bridegroom that -is to be, Sire," interposed Cellini. - -"Where?" - -"Where Madame d'Etampes, who knew the king's kindness of heart, bade him -await your Majesty's pleasure." - -Fifteen minutes later, the door of the apartment opened, in which were -assembled Colombe, the provost, D'Orbec, the Spanish ambassador, and -almost the whole court, except Marmagne, who was still confined to his -bed. An usher cried,-- - -"The king!" - -François I. entered, leading Diane de Poitiers, and followed by -Benvenuto, upon one of whose arms was leaning the Duchesse d'Etampes, -and on the other Ascanio, each of them being as pale as the other. - -At the announcement made by the usher, all the courtiers turned, and all -were paralyzed for a moment when they saw this strange group. - -Their astonishment redoubled when the king, stepping aside to allow the -sculptor to pass in front of him, said in a loud voice:-- - -"Master Benvenuto, take our place for the moment, and our authority; -speak as if you were the king, and be obeyed as a king should be." - -"Beware, Sire," replied the goldsmith: "in order to fill your place -fittingly, I propose to be magnificent." - -"Go on, Benvenuto," said François laughingly; "every magnificent stroke -will be a bit of flattery for me." - -"Very good, Sire; that puts me at my ease, and I will praise you as much -as I can. Do not forget," he continued, "all you who hear me, that the -king is speaking by my mouth. Messieurs les Notaires, you have prepared -the contract which his Majesty deigns to sign? Insert the names of the -contracting parties." - -The two notaries seized their pens and made ready to write the names in -the two copies of the contract, one of which was to remain in the -archives and the other in their office. - -"Of the one part," continued Cellini, "the noble and puissant -demoiselle, Colombe d'Estourville." - -"Colombe d'Estourville," repeated the notaries, mechanically, while the -auditors listened in open-mouthed astonishment. - -"Of the other part," continued Cellini, "the most noble and puissant -Ascanio Gaddi, Seigneur de Nesle." - -"Ascanio Gaddi!" cried the provost and D'Orbec in the same breath. - -"A mere artisan!" added the provost bitterly, turning toward the king. - -"Ascanio Gaddi, Seigneur de Nesle," repeated Benvenuto, unmoved, "upon -whom his Majesty bestows letters of naturalization and the office of -Superintendent of the Royal Châteaux." - -"If his Majesty so commands, I will obey," said the provost; "but--" - -"Ascanio Gaddi," continued Benvenuto, "out of regard for whom his -Majesty grants to Messire Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, the -title of Chamberlain." - -"Sire, I am ready to sign," said D'Estourville, vanquished at last. - -"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" murmured Colombe, falling back into her chair, "is -not all this a dream?" - -"And what of me?" cried D'Orbec. - -"As for you," rejoined Cellini, continuing his royal functions; "as for -you, Comte d'Orbec, I spare you the inquiry which I should be justified -in ordering into your conduct. Clemency is a kingly virtue, no less than -generosity, is it not, Sire? But here are the contracts, all prepared; -let us sign, messieurs, let us sign!" - -"He plays the king to perfection," cried François, as happy as a -monarch on a vacation. - -He passed the pen to Ascanio, who signed with a trembling hand; Ascanio -then passed the pen to Colombe, to whose assistance Madame Diane had -gone in pure kindness of heart. The hands of the lovers met, and they -almost swooned. - -Next came Madame Diane, who passed the pen to the Duchesse d'Etampes, -who passed it to the provost, the provost to D'Orbec, and D'Orbec to the -Spanish ambassador. - -Below all these great names Cellini wrote his own in a firm, distinct -hand. And yet he was not the one who had made the least painful -sacrifice. - -After writing his name, the Spanish ambassador drew nigh the duchess. - -"Our plans still hold, madame?" he asked. - -"Mon Dieu!" she replied, "do what you choose: what matters France or the -world to me?" - -The duke bowed. As he resumed his place, his nephew, a young and -inexperienced diplomat, remarked:-- - -"So it is the Emperor's purpose that not the King of France, but his -son, shall be Duke of Milan?" - -"Neither the one nor the other will be," replied the ambassador. - -Meanwhile other signatures were being affixed. - -When every one had written his name as a subscriber to the happiness of -Colombe and Ascanio, Benvenuto walked up to the king, and knelt upon one -knee before him. - -"Sire," said he, "having issued commands as king I now prefer a request -as your Majesty's humble and grateful servant. Will your Majesty deign -to grant me one last favor?" - -"Say on, Benvenuto, say on!" returned François, who was in a granting -mood, and who discovered anew that it was the prerogative of royalty -wherein, take it for all in all, a king finds the most pleasure; "what -do you desire?" - -"To return to Italy, sire," said Benvenuto. - -"What does this mean?" cried the king; "you wish to leave me when you -have so many masterpieces still in hand for me? I'll not have it." - -"Sire," replied Benvenuto, "I will return, I give you my word. But let -me go, let me see my country once more, for I feel the need of it just -now. I do not talk of my suffering," he continued, lowering his voice -and shaking his head sadly, "but I have many causes of sorrow which I -could not describe, and nothing but the air of my native land can heal -my wounded heart. You are a great and generous king, to whom I am deeply -attached. I will return, Sire, but let me go now and be cured in the -bright sunlight of the South. I leave with you Ascanio, my brain, and -Pagolo, my hand; they will suffice to carry out your artistic dreams -until my return; and when I have received the soft kisses of the breezes -of Florence, my mother, I will return to you, my king, and death alone -shall part us." - -"Go if you will," said François, sadly; "it is fitting that art should -be free as the swallows: go!" - -He gave Benvenuto his hand, which the artist kissed with all the fervor -of heartfelt gratitude. - -As they withdrew, Benvenuto found himself by the duchess's side. - -"Are you very angry with me, madame?" said he, slipping into her hand -the fatal letter which, like a magic talisman, had accomplished -impossibilities. - -"No," said the duchess, overjoyed to have it in her possession at last; -"and yet you defeated me by means--" - -"Go to!" said Benvenuto; "I threatened you with them, but do you think I -would have used them?" - -"God in heaven!" cried the duchess, as if the light had suddenly come to -her; "that is what it is to have thought that you were like myself!" - -The next day, Ascanio and Colombe were married in the chapel at the -Louvre, and, notwithstanding the rules of etiquette, the young people -obtained permission for Jacques Aubry and his wife to be present. - -It was a signal favor, but we must agree that the poor student had well -merited it. - - - - -XXIII - - -MARIAGE DE CONVENANCE - - -A week later, Hermann solemnly espoused Dame Perrine, who brought him as -her marriage portion twenty thousand Tours livres, and the assurance -that he would soon be a father. - -We hasten to say that this assurance had much more to do with the honest -German's determination than the twenty thousand Tours livres. - -On the evening following the marriage of Colombe and Ascanio, Benvenuto -set out for Florence, despite the entreaties of the young husband and -wife. - -During his stay in Italy, he cast the statue of Perseus, which still -adorns the square of the Old Palace, and which was his most beautiful -work,--for no other reason, perhaps, than that he executed it at the -period of his greatest sorrow. - - - - -THE END. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASCANIO *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Ascanio</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>The romances of Alexandre Dumas, Volume XI</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Alexandre Dumas</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 27, 2021 [eBook #66620]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASCANIO ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/ascanio_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - - -<h3>The Sydney Library Edition</h3> - - -<h2>THE ROMANCES -<br /> -OF -<br /> -ALEXANDRE DUMAS</h2> - - - - -<h1>ASCANIO</h1> - -<h4>PARTS I. AND <a href="#part2">II.</a></h4> - -<h5>Volume XI.</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<a id="figure01"></a> -<img src="images/figure01.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/figure02.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - - -<h2>THE ROMANCES OF<br /> -ALEXANDRE DUMAS</h2> - - - - -<h4>Volume XI.</h4> - - - - -<h3>ASCANIO</h3> - - - - -<h4><i>PART FIRST</i></h4> - - - - -<h4>NEW YORK</h4> - -<h4>GEORGE D. SPROUL</h4> - -<h5>Publisher</h5> - -<h5>1898</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h5><i>Copyright, 1896</i>,</h5> - -<h5>By Little, Brown, and Company.</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h5>University Press:</h5> - -<h5>John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - - -<h4>INTRODUCTORY NOTE</h4> - - -<p> -"Never perhaps," says Miss Pardoe (in the Preface to the "Court and -Reign of Francis I."), "did the reign of any European sovereign present -so many and such varying phases. A contest for empire, a captive -monarch, a female regency, and a religious war; the poisoned bowl and -the burning pile alike doing their work of death amid scenes of -uncalculating splendor and unbridled dissipation; the atrocities of -bigotry and intolerance, blent with the most unblushing licentiousness -and the most undisguised profligacy;—such are the materials offered -to the student by the times of Francis I." -</p> - -<p> -The period thus characterized is that in which the scene of the present -romance is laid, and although the plot is mainly concerned with the -fortunes of others than subjects of the <i>Roi Chevalier</i>, we are -treated to a succession of vivid pictures of life and manners at the French -court and in the French capital. -</p> - -<p> -The author depicts the king rather as he appeared to the world before -what has been called the "legend of the Roi Chevalier,"—that is to -say, the long prevailing idea that François I. was the most chivalrous -monarch who ever sat upon a European throne,—had been modified by the -independent researches of those who have not feared to go behind the -writings of the old and well tutored chroniclers whose works have formed -the basis of most modern histories,—chroniclers who seem to have been -guided by Cardinal Richelieu's famous remark to an aspiring historian, -apropos of certain animadversions upon the character of Louis XI., that -"it is treason to discuss the actions of a king who has been dead only -two centuries." -</p> - -<p> -The result of these researches is thus summed up by Miss Pardoe in the -same Preface:— -</p> - -<p> -"The glorious day of Marignano saw the rising, and that of Pavia the -setting, of his fame as a soldier; so true it is that the prowess of the -man was shamed by that of the boy. The early and unregretted death of -one of his neglected queens, and the heart-broken endurance of the -other, contrasted with the unbounded influence of his first favorite and -the insolent arrogance of his second, will sufficiently demonstrate his -character as a husband. His open and illegal oppression of an overtaxed -and suffering people to satisfy the cravings of an extortionate and -licentious court, will suffice to disclose his value as a monarch; while -the reckless indifference with which he falsified his political pledges, -abandoned his allies in their extremity in order to further his own -interests, and sacrificed the welfare of his kingdom and the safety of -his armies to his own puerile vanity, will complete a picture by no -means calculated to elicit one regret that his reign was not prolonged." -</p> - -<p> -Victor Hugo dared to puncture the "legend," when, in the play of "Le Roi -s'Amuse," he represented the "knightly king" as being enticed to a low -water-side hovel by the charms of a girl of the street; but even the -government of the Citizen King, Louis-Philippe, could not brook such an -attack upon the "divinity that doth hedge a king," and, after the first -performance in 1832, the strong hand of the censorship was laid upon the -play, and fifty years elapsed before it again saw the light upon the -stage. -</p> - -<p> -The first titular favorite of King François, the Comtesse de -Châteaubriand, whose character was in every respect diametrically -opposed to that of her successor, was an object of dislike and dread to -Louise de Savoie, the king's mother, because of her unbounded influence -over François. When he returned to France, after his captivity in Spain -following upon his defeat at Pavia, his passion for Madame de -Châteaubriand was found to have increased rather than diminished. In -looking about for some means to kill this passion, and in that way put -an end to the influence of the favorite, Louise de Savoie was not -obliged to go beyond the lovely and licentious circle of her own maids -of honor. She found in Anne de Pisseleu, Mademoiselle d'Heilly, that -combination of loveliness, youth, frailty, and forwardness which she -required for her purpose, and so arranged her first presentation to the -king that the desired effect was produced almost immediately. It was not -long before a suitably complaisant husband was found for the new -divinity, in the person of the Duc d'Etampes, and she had soon entirely -supplanted Madame de Châteaubriand, driven her from court, and entered -upon a period of queenly power and magnificence, which was to endure -with little change or diminution for full twenty years, and until the -death of her royal lover and slave in 1547. -</p> - -<p> -"His excessive passion for the artful favorite blinded him to her -vices," says Miss Pardoe. "Already had she taught him that her love was -to be retained only by an entire devotion; and even while he suffered -her to become the arbiter of his own actions, she betrayed him with a -recklessness as bold as it was degrading. Nothing, moreover, could -satisfy her rapacity; and while distress, which amounted almost to -famine, oppressed the lower classes of the citizens, she greedily seized -upon every opportunity of enriching herself and aggrandizing her -family."<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> -</p> - -<p> -The following passage from the same interesting and painstaking work, if -compared with the episode in "Ascanio" of Madame d'Etampes's designs -upon Colombe, will serve to illustrate the extreme fidelity to -historical truth, even in what may seem to be minor matters, which so -amply justifies the title of "Historical Romances" as applied to this -and many other of Dumas's works:— -</p> - -<p> -"We pass over, for obvious reasons, the minor influences, each perhaps -insignificant in itself, but in the aggregate fearfully mischievous, -which were exercised by the fair and frail maids of honor, each, or -nearly each, being in her turn the 'Cynthia of the minute,' and more -than one of whom owed her temporary favor to the Duchesse d'Etampes -herself, whose secret intrigues and undisguised ambition absorbed more -of her time than could have been left at her disposal, had she not -provided the inconstant but exacting monarch with some new object of -interest; and the tact with which she selected these facile beauties was -not one of the least of her talents. Never, upon any occasion, did she -direct the attention of the king to a woman whose intellect might have -secured, after the spell of her beauty had ceased to attract him. The -young and the lovely were her victims only when their youth and their -loveliness were their sole attractions. She was ever ready to supply her -royal lover with a new mistress, but never with a friend, a companion, -or a counsellor; and then, as she had rightly foreseen, the French -Sardanapalus soon became sated by the mere prettiness of his female -satellites, and returned to his allegiance to herself, weaned, and more -her slave than ever."<a name="FNanchor_2_1" id="FNanchor_2_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_1" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> -</p> - -<p> -A curious parallel in this regard may be noted between the course of the -Duchesse d'Etampes and the similar one pursued by Madame de Pompadour, -two centuries later, to maintain her power over the prematurely aged -Louis XV. The policy of this "minister in petticoats" was embodied in -the institution of the famous, or infamous, Parc-aux-Cerfs. -</p> - -<p> -The request of the Emperor Charles V. to be allowed to pass through -France on his way to chastise the rebellious people of Ghent, and the -conflicting emotions to which it gave rise at the French court, have -been much discussed by historians. It seems to have been the case that the -Connétable Anne de Montmorency—then in the prime of life, and whom -readers of the "Two Dianas" will remember in his old age as the loser of -the battle of Saint-Laurent, and the favored rival of King Henri II. in -the affections of Diane de Poitiers—was the only one of the king's -advisers who opposed requiring Charles to give sureties of his peaceable -intentions, and to declare in writing that he traversed France only upon -sufferance. The constable's advice was adopted, notwithstanding the -opposition of Madame d'Etampes, who strongly urged the king to take -revenge for his own imprisonment at Madrid by improving the opportunity -to inflict the same treatment upon his life-long rival and adversary. -The incident of Triboulet, the jester, and the tablets upon which he -inscribed the names of the greatest fools in the world, is historical. -</p> - -<p> -The anecdote of the presentation of the diamond ring by the Emperor to -the favorite is told by Miss Pardoe substantially as by Dumas, but it is -rejected by most historians of the time. There is no question, however, -that the duchess was so alarmed by the condition of the king's health, -which was prematurely impaired by his dissolute life, and so -apprehensive of her own fate when he should be succeeded by the Dauphin -Henri, then a willing slave to the charms of her bitter enemy, Diane de -Poitiers, that she exerted herself to the utmost to win the affection of -the young Duc d'Orléans, and to procure some sort of an independent -government for him. All her plans in that direction were defeated by -that prince's death of the plague in 1545. -</p> - -<p> -The dazzling and voluptuous Diane de Poitiers, mistress of two kings of -France, the beautiful and accomplished, but cruel and treacherous -Catherine de Medicis, wife of one and mother of three, are familiar -historical characters, with whom Dumas has dealt more fully in others of -his works. -</p> - -<p> -The learned and accomplished author of the "Heptameron," Marguerite de -Valois, Queen of Navarre and sister of François I., of whom we obtain a -fleeting glimpse or two, is in many respects the most attractive -personality of the time. It is a cause for deep regret, however, that -her great affection for her brother did not lead her to exert her -undoubted influence over him to a better end. -</p> - -<p> -As we pass from the king and his immediate circle, to glance for a -moment at the other characters, with whom and with certain passages in -their lives the romance before us is mainly concerned, we venture to -quote once more the same author so copiously quoted heretofore:— -</p> - -<p> -"One merit must, however, be conceded to Anne de Pisseleu; and as -throughout her whole career we have been unable to trace any other good -quality which she possessed, it cannot be passed over in silence. -Educated highly for the period, she loved study for its own sake, and -afforded protection to men of letters; although it must be admitted -that, wherever her passions or vanity were brought into play, she -abandoned them and their interests without hesitation or scruple. -Nevertheless it is certain that she co-operated, not only willingly, but -even zealously, with the king, in attracting to the court of France all -the distinguished talent of Europe."<a name="FNanchor_3_1" id="FNanchor_3_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_1" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> -</p> - -<p> -The favorite's passions and vanity were brought into play in the ease of -Benvenuto Cellini, and she certainly abandoned him and his interests -without hesitation or scruple. -</p> - -<p> -The principal source whence our knowledge of this extraordinary man is -drawn, is his own Autobiography, which has been several times translated -into English, most recently by that eminent author and critic, the late -John Addington Symonds. -</p> - -<p> -The following extracts from the translator's scholarly Introduction will -serve a useful purpose in that they will show that the picture drawn of -him by Dumas is in no sense exaggerated, and that he really possessed -the extraordinary characteristics attributed to him in the following -pages, and which would seem almost incredible without some confirmatory -evidence:— -</p> - -<p> -"A book which the great Goethe thought worthy of translating into German -with the pen of 'Faust' and 'Wilhelm Meister,' a book which Auguste -Comte placed upon his very limited list for the perusal of reformed -humanity, is one with which we have the right to be occupied, not once -or twice, but over and over again. -</p> - -<div class="tb">* * * * * * * * *</div> - -<p> -"No one was less introspective than this child of the Italian -Renaissance. No one was less occupied with thoughts about thinking or -with the presentation of psychological experience. Vain, ostentatious, -self-laudatory, and self-engrossed as Cellini was, he never stopped to -analyze himself. . . . The word 'confessions' could not have escaped his -lips; a <i>Journal Intime</i> would have been incomprehensible to his -fierce, virile spirit. His Autobiography is the record of action and -passion. Suffering, enjoying, enduring, working with restless activity; -hating, loving, hovering from place to place as impulse moves him; the man -presents himself dramatically by his deeds and spoken words, never by -his ponderings or meditative broodings. -</p> - -<p> -"In addition to these solid merits, his life, as Horace Walpole put it, -is 'more amusing than any novel.' We have a real man to deal with,—a -man so realistically brought before us that we seem to hear him speak -and see him move; a man, moreover, whose eminently characteristic works -of art in a great measure still survive among us. Yet the adventures of -this potent human actuality will bear comparison with those of Gil Bias, -or the Comte de Monte Cristo, or Quentin Durward, or Les Trois -Mousquetaires, for their variety and pungent interest. -</p> - -<div class="tb">* * * * * * * * *</div> - -<p> -"But what was the man himself? It is just this question which I have -half promised to answer, implying that, as a translator, I have some -special right to speak upon the subject. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, then: I seem to know Cellini first of all as a man possessed by -intense, absorbing egotism; violent, arrogant, self-assertive, -passionate; conscious of great gifts for art, physical courage, and -personal address. . . . To be self-reliant in all circumstances; to -scheme and strike, if need be, in support of his opinion or his right; -to take the law into his own hands for the redress of injury or -insult;—this appeared to him the simple duty of an honorable -man. . . . He possessed the temperament of a born artist, blent in almost -equal proportions with that of a born bravo. Throughout the whole of his -tumultuous career these two strains contended in his nature for mastery. -Upon the verge of fifty-six, when a man's blood has generally cooled, we -find that he was released from prison on bail, and bound over to keep -the peace for a year with some enemy whose life was probably in danger; -and when I come to speak about his homicides, it will be obvious that he -enjoyed killing live men quite as much as casting bronze statues. -</p> - -<div class="tb">* * * * * * * * *</div> - -<p> -"He consistently poses as an injured man, whom malevolent scoundrels and -malignant stars conspired to persecute. Nor does he do this with any bad -faith. His belief in himself remained firm as adamant, and he candidly -conceived that he was under the special providence of a merciful and -loving God, who appreciated his high and virtuous qualities." -</p> - -<p> -Bearing in mind that all the seemingly fabulous anecdotes related of -Cellini, or put into his own mouth, by Dumas, are actually told by -himself in his Autobiography, the conclusions of Mr. Symonds as to the -artist's veracity cannot fail to be interesting:— -</p> - -<p> -"Among Cellini's faults I do not reckon either baseness or lying. He was -not a rogue, and he meant to be veracious. This contradicts the -commonplace and superficial view of his character so flatly that I must -support my opinion at some length. Of course I shall not deny that a -fellow endowed with such overweening self-conceit, when he comes to -write about himself, will set down much which cannot be taken entirely -on trust. . . . Men of his stamp are certain to exaggerate their own -merits, and to pass lightly over things not favorable to the ideal they -present. But this is very different from lying; and of calculated -mendacity Cellini stands almost universally accused. I believe that view -to be mistaken." -</p> - -<p> -Passing from general considerations to particular instances of Cellini's -alleged falsehoods, the learned translator proceeds to discuss at some -length many of the miraculous experiences and remarkable statements of -Cellini, which are to be found in these volumes. For example, the -founding of Florence by an imaginary ancestor of his own, named Fiorino -da Cellino, a captain in the army of Julius Cæsar; and his claim that -he shot the Constable of Bourbon from the ramparts of Rome in 1527, as -to which Mr. Symonds says: "Bourbon had been shot dead in the assault of -Rome upon that foggy morning, and Cellini had certainly discharged his -arquebuse from the ramparts. . . . If it were possible to put his -thoughts about this event into a syllogism, it would run as follows: -'Somebody shot Bourbon; I shot somebody; being what I am, I am inclined -to think the somebody I shot was Bourbon." -</p> - -<p> -It would be a much simpler task to make a list of the fictitious -characters and incidents in "Ascanio," than to enumerate those whose -existence or occurrence is well authenticated. Colombe and her governess -are apparently creations of the novelist's brain, and the same is true -of Hermann, little Jehan, Jacques Aubry and his light o' love. The -Provost of Paris was Jean d'Estouteville, not Robert d'Estourville; but -he was actually in possession of the Petit-Nesle, which was the abode -granted to Benvenuto by a deed which is still extant, as are the letters -of naturalization bestowed upon him. The trouble experienced by Cellini -in obtaining possession of the Petit-Nesle is considerably overdrawn, -and it does not appear that Ascanio was ever imprisoned. Ascanio's -character throughout is represented in a different light from that in -which it appears in the Autobiography, although he is there said to be -"a lad of marvellous talents, and, moreover, so fair of person that -every one who once set eyes on him seemed bound to love him beyond -measure." Benvenuto had much trouble with him, and used continually to -beat him; and he was very wroth when he found that his apprentice had -been using the head of the mammoth statue of Mars as a trysting place, -where he was accustomed to meet a frail damsel of his acquaintance. -Benvenuto tells the story of the injury to the hand of Raffaello del -Moro's daughter, and of his own share in her cure; but the element of -romance is altogether wanting in his own narrative of the relations -between himself and that "very beautiful" young woman. -</p> - -<p> -Catherine and Scozzone (Scorzone) were two women, not one, both models -and ephemeral mistresses of the artist. The episode of the amours of -Pagolo and Catherine is a very much softened version of an almost -unreadable passage in the memoirs. Of the episode itself, as told by -Cellini, Mr. Symonds says that it is one over which his biographers -would willingly draw the veil. -</p> - -<p> -It is impossible to imagine a more natural consequence of Benvenuto's -peculiar temperament than his absolute failure to make himself <i>persona -grata</i> to the arrogant, self-seeking mistress of the King of France. -François was oftentimes hard put to it to reconcile his admiration for -the work of the artist with his desire to please the favorite; but in -presence of one of his masterpieces the former sentiment generally -carried the day,—notably on the occasion of the exhibition of the -Jupiter at Fontainebleau, in competition with the antique statues -brought from Rome by Primaticcio. After describing the scene in the -gallery substantially as it is described in the novel, Cellini says: -"The king departed sooner than he would otherwise have done," (on -account of the rage of the duchess,) "calling aloud, however, to -encourage me, 'I have brought from Italy the greatest man who ever -lived, endowed with all the talents.'" -</p> - -<p> -A passage in Mr. Symonds's Introduction to the Life, too long to be -quoted here, shows that Benvenuto left France somewhat under a cloud, -and followed by suspicions of dishonest dealing, which have never been -quite satisfactorily cleared away. -</p> - -<p> -Enough has been said to show that in this book, as always in his -historical romances, Dumas has substantially rewritten a chapter of -history,—for the visit of Benvenuto Cellini to Paris has been deemed -worthy of notice at considerable length by more than one grave -chronicler; and he has again demonstrated his very exceptional power of -interweaving history and fiction in such a way as to make each embellish -the other. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a>The Court and Reign of Francis I., King of France, Vol. II. -Chap. XI.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_2_1" id="Footnote_2_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_1"><span class="label">[2]</span></a>Miss Pardoe, Vol. III. Chap. I.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_3_1" id="Footnote_3_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_1"><span class="label">[3]</span></a>Miss Pardoe. Vol. II. Chap XI.</p></div> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>LIST OF CHARACTERS</h4> - - -<h5>Period, 1540.</h5> - - -<div> -<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td align="left">FRANÇOIS I., King of France.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">ELEANORA, his queen, sister to Charles V.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">THE DAUPHIN,, afterwards Henri II.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">CHARLES D'ORLÉANS, the king's second son.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">THE DAUPHINE, Catherine de Medicis.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">THE EMPEROR CHARLES V.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">THE KING OF NAVARRE.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, Queen of Navarre.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">ANNE DE PISSELEU, Duchesse d'Etampes, favorite of François I.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">DIANE DE POITIERS.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">BENVENUTO CELLINI, a Florentine artist.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">ASCANIO, his pupil.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MESSIRE ROBERT D'ESTOURVILLE, Provost of Paris.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">COLOMBE, his daughter.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">COMTE D'ORBEC, the king's treasurer.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">VICOMTE DE MARMAGNE, a suitor for Colombe's hand.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">THE DUKE OF MEDINA-SIDONIA, ambassador of Charles V.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MONSIEUR DE MONTBRION, governor of Charles d'Orléans.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">CONSTABLE ANNE DE MONTMORENCY,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">CHANCELLOR POYET,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">CARDINAL DE TOURNON,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MESSIRE ANTOINE LE MAÇON,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right">of the French Court.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">COMTE DE LA FAYE,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MARQUIS DES PRÉS,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MELIN DE SAINT-GELAIS,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">M. DE TERMES,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">HENRI D'ESTIENNE,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">PIETRO STROZZI, a Florentine refugee.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">TRIBOULET, the king's jester.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">FRANÇOIS RABELAIS.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">CLEMENT MAROT.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">PAGOLO,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">JEHAN,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right">assistants of Cellini.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">SIMON-LE-GAUCHER,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">HERMANN,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">SCOZZONE, Cellini's model.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">RUPERTA, servant to Cellini.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">DAME PERRINE, Colombo's governess.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">PULCHERIA, her assistant.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MASTER JACQUES, Messire d'Estourville's gardener.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">ISABEAU, attendant of Madame d'Etampes.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">ANDRÉ, physician to Madame d'Etampes.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">JACQUES AUBRY, a student, attaching himself to the service of</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">Cellini.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">GERVAISE-PERRETTE POPINOT, a grisette.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">FRANCESCO PRIMATICCIO, a painter, friend to Cellini.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">GUIDO, a Florentine physician,</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">FERRANTE,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">FRACASSO,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="right">bravos employed by Vicomte de Marmagne.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">PROCOPE,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MALEDENT,}</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">THE LIEUTENANT CRIMINAL OF THE PALAIS DE JUSTICE.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MARC-BONIFACE GRIMOINEAU, his clerk.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">ETIENNE RAYMOND, a prisoner at the Châtelet.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">A PRIEST AT THE CHÂTELET.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">POPE CLEMENT VII.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MASTER GEORGIO, governor of the Castle of San Angelo.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">MONSEIGNEUR DE MONTLUC, French ambassador at Rome.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">POMPEO, a goldsmith at Rome.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">RAPHAEL DEL MORO, a Florentine goldsmith.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">STEFANA, his daughter.</td></tr> -<tr><td align="left">GISMONDO GADDI, a confrère of Del Moro.</td></tr> -</table></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>CONTENTS</h4> - -<p class="nind">Chapter -<br /> -<a href="#chap01">I. The Street and the Studio</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap02">II. A Goldsmith of the Sixteenth Century</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap03">III. Dædalus</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap04">IV. Scozzone</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap05">V. Genius and Royalty</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap06">VI. To What Use A Duenna May Be Put</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap07">VII. A Lover and a Friend</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap08">VIII. Preparations for Attack and Defence</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap09">IX. Thrust and Parry</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap10">X. Of the Advantage of Fortified Towns</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap11">XI. Owls, Magpies, and Nightingales</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap12">XII. The King's Queen</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap13">XIII. Souvent Femme Varie</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap14">XIV. Wherein it is proven that Sorrow is<br /> -the Groundwork of the Life of Man</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap15">XV. Wherein it appears that Joy is nothing<br /> -more than Sorrow in another Form</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap16">XVI. A Court</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap17">XVII. Love as Passion</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap18">XVIII. Love as a Dream</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap19">XIX. Love as an Idea</a></p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>ILLUSTRATIONS</h4> - - -<p class="nind"><a href="#figure01">Francis I</a></p> -<p class="nind"><i>Drawn by E. van Mughen.</i></p> - -<p class="nind"><a href="#figure03">Francis I. visits Benvenuto Cellini.</a><br /> - -<a href="#figure04">"Ascanio, beside himself with joy, fell on his<br /> -knees."</a><br /> - -<a href="#figure06">"'Your Majesty is losing your ring,' said<br /> -Anne."</a><br /> - -<a href="#figure07">"All the workmen joined in a cry of admiration."</a></p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>ASCANIO</h4> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap01"></a></h4> - -<h4>I -<br /><br /> -THE STREET AND THE STUDIO</h4> - -<p> -Time, four o'clock in the afternoon of the tenth day of July in the year -of grace 1540. Place, the entrance to the church Des Grands Augustins, -within the precincts of the University, by the receptacle for holy water -near the door. -</p> - -<p> -A tall, handsome youth, olive-skinned, with long waving locks and great -black eyes, simply but elegantly clad, his only weapon a little dagger -with a hilt of marvellous workmanship, was standing there, and, -doubtless from motives of pure piety and humility, had not stirred from -the spot throughout the vespers service. With head bowed in an attitude -of devout contemplation, he was murmuring beneath his breath I know not -what words,—his prayers let us hope,—for he spoke so low that -none but himself and God could hear what he might say. As the service drew -near its close, however, he raised his voice slightly, and they who stood -nearest him could hear these half-audible words:— -</p> - -<p> -"How wretchedly these French monks drone out their psalms! Could they -not sing more melodiously before her, whose ear should be accustomed to -angels' voices? Ah! this is well; the vespers are at an end at last. Mon -Dieu! mon Dieu! grant that I be more fortunate to-day than on last -Sunday, and that she do at least raise her eyes to my face!" -</p> - -<p> -This last prayer was most artful, in very truth; for if she to whom it -was addressed should chance to raise her eyes to the suppliant's face, -she would see the most adorable youthful head that she had ever seen in -dreams, while reading the eleven mythological tales which were so -fashionable at the time, by virtue of the charming couplets of Master -Clement Marot, and which told of the loves of Psyche and the death of -Narcissus. Indeed, beneath his simple sober-hued costume, the youth whom -we have introduced to our readers was remarkably handsome, and wore an -air of unmistakable refinement: moreover, his smile was infinitely sweet -and attractive, and his glance, which dared not yet be bold, was as -ardent and impassioned as ever flashed from the great speaking eyes of -eighteen years. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, upon hearing the movement of many chairs announcing the end of -the service, our lover,—for the reader will have discovered from the -few words he has uttered that he is entitled to be so described,—our -lover, I say, drew aside a little, and watched the congregation pass -silently forth,—a congregation composed of staid church-wardens, -respectable matrons past their giddy days, and prepossessing damsels. -But for none of these had the youth come thither, for his glance did not -brighten, nor did he step impulsively forward, until he saw approach a -maiden dressed in white, and attended by a duenna,—a duenna of high -station, be it understood,—who seemed accustomed to the ways of -society, a duenna not unyouthful nor unattractive, and by no means -savage in appearance. When the two ladies approached the basin of holy -water, our youth took some of the liquid and gallantly offered it to -them. -</p> - -<p> -The duenna bestowed the most gracious of smiles and most grateful of -courtesies upon him, and even touched his fingers as she took the cup, -which, to his great chagrin, she herself handed to her companion; but -the latter, notwithstanding the fervent prayer whereof she had been the -object a few moments before, kept her eyes constantly upon the -ground,—a sure proof that she knew the comely youth was -there,—so that the comely youth, when she had passed, stamped upon -the flags, muttering, "Alas! again she did not see me." An equally sure -proof that the comely youth was, as we have said, no more than eighteen -years old. -</p> - -<p> -But after the first burst of vexation, our unknown hastened down the -steps of the church, and, seeing that the absent-minded beauty, having -lowered her veil and taken her attendant's arm, had turned to the right, -hastened to take the same direction, observing that his own home chanced -to lie that way. The maiden followed the quay as far as Pont -Saint-Michel, and crossed Pont Saint-Michel; still it was our hero's -road. She next passed through Rue de la Barillerie, and crossed Pont au -Change; and as she was still pursuing our hero's road, our hero followed -her like her shadow. -</p> - -<p> -Every pretty girl's shadow is a lover. -</p> - -<p> -But alas! when she reached the Grand Châtelet, the lovely star, whereof -our unknown had made himself the satellite, was suddenly eclipsed: the -wicket of the royal prison opened the instant that the duenna knocked, -and closed again behind them. -</p> - -<p> -The young man was taken aback for a moment; but as he was a very decided -fellow when there was no pretty girl at hand to weaken his resolution, -he very soon made up his mind what course to pursue. -</p> - -<p> -A sergeant, pike on shoulder, was walking sedately back and forth before -the door of the Châtelet. Our youthful unknown followed the example of -the worthy sentinel, and, having walked on a short distance to avoid -observation, but not so far as to lose sight of the door, he heroically -began his amorous sentry-go. -</p> - -<p> -If the reader has ever done sentry duty in the course of his life, he -must have noticed that one of the surest means of making the time pass -quickly is to commune with one's self. Our hero doubtless was accustomed -to such duty, for he had hardly begun his promenade when he addressed -the following monologue to himself:— -</p> - -<p> -"Assuredly it cannot be that she lives in yonder prison. This morning -after mass, and these last two Sundays when I dared not follow her save -with my eyes,—dullard that I was!—she turned not to the right -upon the quay, but to the left, toward the Porte de Nesle, and the -Pré-aux-Cleres. What the devil brings her to the Châtelet? What can it -be? To see a prisoner, perhaps, her brother 't is most like. Poor girl! -she must suffer cruelly, for doubtless she is as sweet and kind as she -is lovely. Pardieu! I'm sorely tempted to accost her, ask her frankly -who it is, and offer my services. If it be her brother, I'll tell the -patron the whole story, and ask his advice. When one has escaped from -the Castle of San Angelo, as he has, one has a shrewd idea of the best -way to get out of prison. There's no more to be said: I'll save her -brother. After I have rendered him such a service, he'll be my friend -for life and death. Of course he'll ask me then what he can do for me -when I have done so much for him. Then I'll confess that I love his -sister. He'll present me to her, and then we'll see if she won't raise -her eyes." -</p> - -<p> -Once launched upon such a course, we need not say how a lover's thoughts -flow on unchecked. Thus it was that our youth was vastly amazed to hear -the clock strike four, and see the sentinel relieved. -</p> - -<p> -The new sergeant began his promenade, and the young man resumed his. His -method of passing time had succeeded too well for him not to continue to -make use of it; so he resumed his discourse upon a theme no less -fruitful of ideas than the other:— -</p> - -<p> -"How lovely she is! how graceful every movement! how modest her bearing! -how classic the outline of her features! There is in the whole world no -other than Leonardo da Vinci or the divine Raphael, worthy to reproduce -the image of that chaste and spotless being; nor would they prove equal -to the task, save at the very zenith of their talent. O mon Dieu! why am -not I a painter, rather than a sculptor, worker in enamel, or goldsmith? -First of all, were I a painter, there'd be no need that I should have -her before my eyes to make her portrait. I should never cease to see her -great blue eyes, her beautiful blonde tresses, her pearly skin and -slender form. Were I a painter, I should paint her face in every -picture, as Sanzio did with Fornarina, and Andrea del Sarto with -Lucrezia. And what a contrast betwixt her and Fornarina! in sooth, -neither the one nor the other is worthy to unloose her shoe laces. In -the first place, Fornarina—" -</p> - -<p> -The youth was not at the end of his comparisons, which were, as the -reader will imagine, uniformly to the advantage of his inamorata, when -the hour struck. -</p> - -<p> -The second sentinel was relieved. -</p> - -<p> -"Six o'clock! 'T is strange how the time flies!" muttered the youth, -"and if it flies thus quickly while I wait for her, how should it be if -I were by her side! Ah! by her side I should lose count of time; I -should be in paradise. If I were by her side, I should but look at her, -and so the hours and days and months would pass. What a blissful life -that would be, mon Dieu!" and the young man lost himself in an ecstatic -reverie; for his mistress, though absent, seemed to pass in person -before his eyes,—the eyes of a true artist. -</p> - -<p> -The third sentinel was relieved. -</p> - -<p> -Eight o'clock struck on all the parish churches, and the shades of night -began to fall, for all authorities are in accord that the twilight hour -in July three hundred years ago was in the neighborhood of eight -o'clock, as now; but what is perhaps more astonishing than that is the -fabulous perseverance of a sixteenth century lover. All passions were -ardent in those days, and vigorous young hearts no more stopped short in -love than in art or war. -</p> - -<p> -However, the patience of the young artist—for he has let us into the -secret of his profession—was rewarded at last, when he saw the -ponderous door of the Châtelet open for the twentieth time, but this -time to give passage to her for whom he was waiting. The same chaperon -was still at her side, and furthermore, two archers of the provost's -guard followed ten paces behind her, as escort. -</p> - -<p> -They retraced the steps they had taken four hours earlier, to wit the -Pont au Change, Rue de la Barillerie, Pont Saint-Michel, and the quays; -but they kept on by the Grands Augustins, and some three hundred yards -beyond paused before a huge door in a recess in the wall, beside which -was another smaller door for the servants' use. The duenna knocked at -the great door, which was opened by the porter. The two archers, after -saluting their charge with the utmost respect, returned to the -Châtelet, and our artist found himself standing for the second time -outside a closed door. -</p> - -<p> -He would probably have remained there until morning, for he was fairly -embarked on the fourth series of his dreams; but chance willed that a -passer by, who had imbibed something too freely, collided violently with -him. -</p> - -<p> -"Hola there, friend!" said the new arrival, "by your leave, are you a -man or a post? If so be you're a post, you're within your rights and I -respect you; but if you be a man, stand back, and let me pass." -</p> - -<p> -"Pray pardon me," rejoined the distraught youth, "but I am a stranger in -this good city of Paris, and—" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! that's another matter; the Frenchman is always hospitable, and I -ask your pardon; you're a stranger, good. As you have told me who you -are, it's only fair that I should tell you who I am. I am a student, and -my name is—" -</p> - -<p> -"Excuse me," interposed the young artist, "but before I know who you -are, I would be very glad to know where I am." -</p> - -<p> -"Porte de Nesle, my dear friend; this is the Hôtel de Nesle," said the -student, with a glance at the great door from which the stranger had not -once removed his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good; and to reach Rue Saint-Martin, where I live, which direction -must I take?" said our lovelorn youth, for the sake of saying something, -and hoping thus to be rid of his companion. -</p> - -<p> -"Rue Saint-Martin, do you say? Come with me, I'm going that way, and at -Pont Saint-Michel I'll show you how you must go. As I was saying, I am a -student, I am returning from the Pré-aux-Clercs, and my name is—" -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know to whom the Hôtel de Nesle belongs?" asked the young -stranger. -</p> - -<p> -"Marry! I rather think I know my University! The Hôtel de Nesle, young -man, belongs to our lord, the king, and is at this moment in the hands -of Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris." -</p> - -<p> -"How say you! that the Provost of Paris lives there?" -</p> - -<p> -"By no means did I tell you that the Provost of Paris lives there, my -son: the Provost of Paris lives at the Grand Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes! at the Grand Châtelet! Then that's the explanation. But how -happens it that the provost lives at the Grand Châtelet, and yet the -king leaves the Hôtel de Nesle in his possession?" -</p> - -<p> -"'T is thus. The king, you see, had given the Hôtel de Nesle to our -bailli, a most venerable man, who stood guard over the privileges of the -University, and tried all suits against it in most paternal fashion: -superb functions his! Unhappily our excellent bailli was so -just—so just—to us, that his office was abolished two years -since, upon the pretext that he used to sleep when hearing causes, as if -<i>bailli</i> were not derived from <i>bâiller</i> (to yawn). His -office being thus suppressed, the duty of protecting the interests of -the University was intrusted to the Provost of Paris. A fine protector, -on my word! as if we could not quite as well protect ourselves! How, our -said provost—dost thou follow me, my child?—our said -provost, who is most rapacious, opined that, since he succeeded to the -bailli's office, he ought at the same time to inherit his possessions, -and so he quietly laid hold of the Grand and Petit-Nesle, thanks to the -patronage of Madame d'Etampes." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet, you say, he does not occupy it." -</p> - -<p> -"Not he, the villain. I think, however, that the old Cassandre lodges a -daughter there, or niece, a lovely child called Colombe or Colombine, or -some such name, and keeps her under lock and key in a corner of the -Petit Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! is it so?" exclaimed the artist, hardly able to breathe, for it was -the first time that he had heard his mistress's name; "this usurpation -seems to me a shocking abuse. What! this vast hotel to shelter one young -girl with her duenna!" -</p> - -<p> -"Whence comest thou, O stranger, not to know that nothing comes to pass -more naturally than this abuse,—that we poor clerks should live six -together in a wretched garret, while a great nobleman casts this immense -property with its gardens, lawns, and tennis-court to the dogs!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! there is a tennis-court!" -</p> - -<p> -"Magnificent, my son! magnificent!" -</p> - -<p> -"But this Hôtel de Nesle, you say, is actually the property of King -François I." -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure: but what would you have King François I. do with this -property of his?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, give it to others, as the provost doesn't occupy it." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good: then go and ask it of him for yourself." -</p> - -<p> -"Why not? Tell me, does the game of tennis please your fancy?" -</p> - -<p> -"I fairly dote on it." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case I invite you to a game with me next Sunday." -</p> - -<p> -"Where, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"At the Hôtel de Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Gramercy! my lord grand master of the royal châteaux! 'T is meet that -you should know my name at least—" -</p> - -<p> -But as the young stranger knew all that he cared to know, and as the -rest probably interested him but little, he heard not a word of his new -friend's story, as he proceeded to tell him in detail that his name was -Jacques Aubry, that he was a scrivener at the University, and was now -returning from the Pré-aux-Clercs, where he had had an assignation with -his tailor's wife; that she, detained no doubt by her wrathful spouse, -did not appear; that he had consoled himself for Simonne's absence by -drinking good Suresne; and, lastly, that he proposed to withdraw his -custom from the discourteous Master Snip, who compelled him to wear -himself out with waiting, and to get tipsy which was altogether opposed -to all his habits. -</p> - -<p> -When the two young men reached Rue de la Harpe, Jacques Aubry pointed -out to our unknown the road he was to follow, which he knew even better -than his informant: they then made an appointment for the following -Sunday at noon at the Porte de Nesle, and parted, one singing, the other -dreaming. -</p> - -<p> -He who dreamed had abundant food for dreaming, for he had learned more -during that one evening than in the three weeks preceding. -</p> - -<p> -He had learned that the maiden to whom he had given his heart, lived at -the Petit-Nesle, that she was the daughter of Messire Robert -d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, and that her name was Colombe. As will -be seen, he had not wasted his day. -</p> - -<p> -Still dreaming he turned into Rue Saint-Martin, and stopped before a -handsome house, over the door of which were carved the arms of the -Cardinal of Ferrara. He knocked three times. -</p> - -<p> -"Who's there?" demanded a fresh, resonant young voice from within, after -an interval of a few seconds. -</p> - -<p> -"I, Dame Catherine," replied the unknown. -</p> - -<p> -"Who are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! at last!" -</p> - -<p> -The door opened, and Ascanio entered. -</p> - -<p> -A charming girl of some eighteen to twenty years, rather dark, rather -small, very quick of movement, and admirably well shaped withal, -welcomed him with transports of joy. -</p> - -<p> -"Here's the deserter! here he is!" she cried, and ran, or rather bounded -on before, to announce him, extinguishing the lamp she carried, and -leaving open the street door, which Ascanio, less giddy-pated than she, -was careful to secure. -</p> - -<p> -The young man, although Dame Catherine's precipitation left him in -darkness, walked with assured step across a courtyard of considerable -size, in which every tile was surrounded by a border of rank weeds, the -whole dominated by a sombre mass of tall buildings of somewhat severe -aspect. It was the frowning and humid dwelling-place of a cardinal, -although its master had not for a long time dwelt therein. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio sprang lightly up a flight of moss-grown steps, and entered a -vast hall, the only room in the house that was lighted,—a sort of -conventual refectory, ordinarily dark and gloomy and untenanted, but -which for two months past had been filled with light and life and music. -</p> - -<p> -For two months past, in truth, this cold colossal cell had been instinct -with bustling, laughing, good-humored life; for two months past, ten -work-benches, two anvils, and an improvised forge had seemed to lessen -the size of the vast room; sketches, models, benches laden with pincers, -hammers, and files, sheaves of swords with chased hilts of marvellous -workmanship, and carved open-work blades, helmets, cuirasses, and -bucklers, gold-embossed, whereon the loves of the gods and goddesses -were portrayed in relief, as if to turn the mind away from the purpose -for which they were destined to be used, had covered the grayish walls. -The sun had freely found its way in through the wide open windows, and -the air had been filled with the songs of joyous, active workers. -</p> - -<p> -A cardinal's refectory had become a goldsmith's workshop. -</p> - -<p> -However, during this evening of July 10, 1540, the sanctity of the -Sabbath had temporarily restored to the newly enlivened apartment the -tranquillity in which it had lain dormant for a century. But a table, -upon which the remains of an excellent supper lay about in confusion, -lighted by a lamp which one would take to have been stolen from the -ruins of Pompeii, of so chaste and delicate a form was it, proved that, -if the temporary occupants of the cardinal's mansion did sometimes enjoy -repose, they were in no wise addicted to fasting. -</p> - -<p> -When Ascanio entered there were four persons in the workshop. -</p> - -<p> -These four persons were an old maid-servant, who was removing the dishes -from the table, Catherine, who was relighting the lamp, a young man -sketching in a corner, and waiting for the lamp which Catherine had -taken from before him in order to continue his work, and the master, -standing with folded arms, and leaning against the forge. -</p> - -<p> -The last would inevitably have been the first to be observed by any one -entering the workshop. -</p> - -<p> -Indeed, there was an indescribable impression of life and power which -emanated from this remarkable personage, and attracted the attention -even of those who would have chosen to withhold it. He was a tall, -spare, powerful man of some forty years; but it would have needed the -chisel of Michel-Angelo or the pencil of Ribeira to trace the outline of -that clear-cut profile, to reproduce that sparkling olive complexion, to -depict that bold, almost kingly expression. His lofty forehead towered -above eyebrows quick to frown; his straight-forward piercing glance -flashed at times with a light that was almost sublime; his frank, -good-humored smile, albeit somewhat satirical, fascinated and awed you -at the same time; he was accustomed to stroke his black beard and -moustache with his hand, which was not precisely small, but nervous, -supple, with long fingers and great strength, but withal slender and -aristocratic; lastly, in his way of looking at you, speaking, turning -his head, in all his quick, expressive, but not intemperate gestures, -even in the careless attitude in which he was standing when Ascanio -entered, his strength made itself felt; the lion in repose was none the -less the lion. -</p> - -<p> -Catherine and the apprentice working in the corner formed a most -striking contrast to each other. The latter, a sombre, taciturn fellow, -with a narrow forehead already furrowed with wrinkles, half shut eyes, -and compressed lips; she as blithe as a bird and blooming as a flower, -with the most mischievous of eyes always to be seen beneath her restless -eyelids, and the whitest of teeth within her mouth, constantly half -opened with a smile. The apprentice, buried in his corner, was slow and -languid in his movements, as if economizing his strength; Catherine was -here and there, going and coming, never remaining one second in one -spot, so did her youthful active organization overflow with life and -spirits, and feel the need of constant movement in default of -excitement. -</p> - -<p> -Thus she was the fairy of the household, a very skylark by virtue of her -vivacity, and her clear, piercing note, beginning life with such a -joyous disregard of every thing beyond the moment as to fully justify -the surname of <i>Scozzone</i> which the master had given her; an -Italian word which signified then, and still signifies, something very -like <i>casse-cou</i> (break-neck). And yet, with all her childish ways, -Scozzone was so instinct with witchery and charm that she was the life -and soul of the household; when she sang all the others were silent; -when she laughed they laughed with her; when she ordered they obeyed -without a word,—albeit she was not ordinarily exacting in her -caprice; and then she was so frankly and innocently happy, that she -diffused an atmosphere of good humor wherever she went, and it made -others glad to see her gladness. -</p> - -<p> -Her story was an old, old story, to which we may perhaps recur: an -orphan, born of the people, she was abandoned in her infancy, but God -protected her. Destined to afford pleasure to everybody, she met a man -to whom she afforded pure happiness. -</p> - -<p> -Having introduced these new characters, we now resume the thread of our -narrative where we let it drop. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! whence comest thou, gadabout?" said the master to Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Whence do I come? I come from gadding about for you, master." -</p> - -<p> -"Since morning?" -</p> - -<p> -"Since morning." -</p> - -<p> -"Say rather that thou hast been in quest of adventure?" -</p> - -<p> -"What manner of adventure should I have been in quest of, master?" -murmured Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"How can I know, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well! and if it were so, where's the harm?" interposed Scozzone. -"Indeed, he's a pretty boy enough to have adventures run after him, even -though he run not after adventures." -</p> - -<p> -"Scozzone!" said the master with a frown. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, come! don't you be jealous of him, too, poor, dear boy!" And she -raised Ascanio's chin with her hand. "Ah, well! it only needed that. -But, Jesu! how pale you are! Does it happen that you haven't supped, -monsieur vagabond?" -</p> - -<p> -"Faith, no," cried Ascanio; "I forgot it." -</p> - -<p> -"Oho! in that case I take sides with the master; he forgot that he had -not supped, so he must be in love. Ruperta! Ruperta! bring supper for -Messire Ascanio at once." -</p> - -<p> -The servant produced several dishes of appetizing relics of the evening -meal, which our hero pounced upon with an appetite by no means unnatural -after his prolonged exercise in the open air. -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone and the master watched him, smiling the while, one with -sisterly affection, the other with a father's love. The young man at -work in the corner had raised his head when Ascanio entered; but as soon -as Scozzone replaced in front of him the lamp she had taken when she -rail to open the door, he bent his head over his work once more. -</p> - -<p> -"I was saying, master, that it was for you I have been running about all -day," resumed Ascanio, noticing the mischievous expression of the master -and Scozzone, and desiring to lead the conversation to some other -subject than his love affairs. -</p> - -<p> -"How hast thou run about all day for me? Let us hear." -</p> - -<p> -"Did you not say yesterday that the light was very bad here, and that -you must have another studio?" -</p> - -<p> -"Even so." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, I have found one for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Dost thou hear, Pagolo?" said the master, turning to the young man in -the corner. -</p> - -<p> -"What did you say, master?" he asked, raising his head a second time. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, lay aside thy work a moment, and listen to this. He has found a -workshop: dost thou hear?" -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon, master, but I can hear very well from here what my friend -Ascanio may say. I would like to complete this study; it seems to me -that it is well, when one has piously fulfilled the duties of a -Christian on the Sabbath day, to employ one's leisure in some profitable -exercise: to work is to pray." -</p> - -<p> -"Pagolo, my friend," said the master, shaking his head more in sadness -than in anger, "you would do better, believe me, to work more -assiduously and heartily through the week, and enjoy yourself on Sunday -like a good comrade, than to idle as you do on ordinary days, and -hypocritically set yourself apart from the others by feigning so much -ardor in your work on fete-days; but you are your own master, act as -seems good to you. And thou sayest, Ascanio, my child?" he continued in -a tone in which infinite gentleness and affection were mingled. -</p> - -<p> -"I say that I have found a magnificent workshop for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Where?" -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know the Hôtel de Nesle?" -</p> - -<p> -"Perfectly; that is, by having passed before it, for I have never been -within the door." -</p> - -<p> -"But is its exterior attractive in your eyes?" -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu! it is indeed. But—" -</p> - -<p> -"But what?" -</p> - -<p> -"But does no one occupy it, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Marry, yes, Monsieur the Provost of Paris, Messire Robert -d'Estourville, who has taken possession of it without right. Moreover, -to satisfy your scruples on that head, we might with great propriety -leave him the Petit-Nesle, where some one of his family now dwells, I -think, and be content ourselves with the Grand-Nesle, and its -courtyards, lawns, and bowling-greens and tennis-court." -</p> - -<p> -"There is a tennis-court?" -</p> - -<p> -"Finer than that of Santa-Croce at Florence." -</p> - -<p> -"Per Bacco! and it is my favorite game; thou didst know that, Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes; and then, master, over and above all that, a superb location; air -everywhere; and such air! perfect country air, and not such as we get -here in this infernal corner, where we are moulding, forgotten by the -sun. The Pré-aux-Clercs on one side, the Seine on the other, and the -king, your great king, only two steps away, in his Louvre." -</p> - -<p> -"But whose is this devil of a hotel?" -</p> - -<p> -"Whose, say you? Pardieu! the king's." -</p> - -<p> -"The king's! Say me that once more, my child,—the Hôtel de Nesle is -the king's!" -</p> - -<p> -"His own; now it remains to ascertain if he will give you so magnificent -a dwelling-place." -</p> - -<p> -"Who, the king? How do men call the king, Ascanio! -</p> - -<p> -"Why, François I. if I am not mistaken." -</p> - -<p> -"Which means that the Hôtel de Nesle will be my property within the -week." -</p> - -<p> -"But it may be that the Provost of Paris will take offence." -</p> - -<p> -"What care I for that?" -</p> - -<p> -"But suppose he will not let go what he has in his hand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Suppose he will not!—What do men call me, Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -"They call you Benvenuto Cellini, master." -</p> - -<p> -"Which means that if the worthy provost will not do things with good -grace, why, we will use force to compel him to do them. And now let us -to bed. To-morrow we'll speak further on the matter, and then the sun -will shine, and we shall see more clearly." -</p> - -<p> -At the master's suggestion all retired except Pagolo, who remained for -some time at work in his corner; but as soon as he believed that all -were safely in bed, the apprentice rose, looked about, drew near the -table, and poured for himself a large cup of wine, which he swallowed at -a draught. Then he too went off to bed. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap02"></a></h4> - -<h4>II -<br /><br /> -A GOLDSMITH OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY</h4> - -<p> -Since we have drawn the portrait and mentioned the name of Benvenuto -Cellini, we crave the reader's permission, that he may the more -understandingly approach the artistic subject of which we propose to -treat, to indulge in a short digression upon this extraordinary man, who -at this time had been living in France for two months, and who is -destined to become one of the principal characters of this history. -</p> - -<p> -But first of all let us say a word as to the goldsmiths of the sixteenth -century. -</p> - -<p> -There is at Florence a bridge called the Ponte-Vecchio, which is covered -with houses to this day; these houses were in the old days goldsmiths' -shops. -</p> - -<p> -But the word is not to be understood as we understand it to-day. The -goldsmith of our day follows a trade; formerly, the goldsmith was an -artist. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that there was nothing in the world so wondrously beautiful as -these shops, or rather as the articles with which they were stocked. -There were round cups of onyx, around which dragons' tails were twined, -while heads and bodies of those fabulous creatures confronted one -another with gold-bespangled sky-blue wings outspread, and with jaws -wide open like chimeras, shot threatening glances from their ruby eyes. -There were ewers of agate, with a festoon of ivy clinging round the -base, and climbing up in guise of handle well above the orifice, -concealing amid its emerald foliage some marvellous bird from the -tropics, in brilliant plumage of enamel, seemingly alive and ready to -burst forth in song. There were urns of lapis-lazuli, over the edge of -which leaned, as if to drink, lizards chiselled with such art that one -could almost see the changing reflection of their golden cuirasses, and -might have thought that they would fly at the least sound, and seek -shelter in some crevice in the wall. Then there were chalices and -monstrances, and bronze and gold and silver medallions, all studded with -precious stones, as if in those days rubies, topazes, carbuncles, and -diamonds could be found by searching in the sand on river banks, or in -the dust of the highroad; and there were nymphs, naiads, gods, -goddesses, a whole resplendent Olympus, mingled with crucifixes, -crosses, and Calvarys; Mater Dolorosas, Venuses, Christs, Apollos, -Jupiters launching thunderbolts, and Jehovahs creating the world; and -all this not only cleverly executed, but poetically conceived; not only -admirable, viewed as ornaments for a woman's boudoir, but magnificent -masterpieces fit to immortalize the reign of a king or the genius of a -nation. -</p> - -<p> -To be sure, the goldsmiths of that epoch bore the names of Donatello, -Ghiberti, Guirlandajo, and Benvenuto Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -Now, Benvenuto Cellini has himself described in his memoirs, which are -more interesting than the most interesting novel, the adventurous life -of the artists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, when Titian was -painting in coat of mail, when Michel-Angelo was sculpturing with his -sword at his side, when Masaccio and Domenichino died of poison, and -Cosmo I. secluded himself in his laboratory to discover the mode of -tempering steel so that it would cut porphyry. -</p> - -<p> -To show the character of the man, we will take a single episode in his -life,—that which was the occasion of his coming to France. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was at Rome, whither Pope Clement VII. had summoned him, and -was at work with characteristic ardor upon the beautiful chalice which -his Holiness had ordered; but as he desired to display his talent at its -best upon the precious work, he made but slow progress. How, Benvenuto, -as may well be imagined, had many rivals, who envied him the many -valuable orders he received from the Pope, as well as the marvellous -skill with which he executed them. The result was that one of his -confrères, named Pompeo, who had nothing to do but slander his betters, -took advantage of the delay to do him all possible injury in the Pope's -sight, and kept at work persistently, day in and day out, without truce -or relaxation, sometimes in undertones, sometimes aloud, assuring him -that he would never finish it, and that he was so overwhelmed with -orders that he executed those of other people to the neglect of his -Holiness's. -</p> - -<p> -He said and did so much, did good Pompeo, that when Benvenuto Cellini -saw him enter his workshop one day with smiling faee, he divined at once -that he was the bearer of bad news for him. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my dear confrère," Pompeo began, "I have come to relieve you -from a heavy burden. His Holiness realizes that your neglect in -completing his chalice is not due to lack of zeal, but to lack of time; -he therefore considers it no more than just to relieve you from some one -of your important duties, and of his own motion he dismisses you from -the post of Engraver to the Mint. It will be nine paltry ducats a month -less in your pocket, but an hour more each day at your disposal." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was conscious of an intense longing to throw the jeering -varlet out of window, but he restrained his feelings, and Pompeo, seeing -that not a muscle of his face moved, thought that he had missed his aim. -</p> - -<p> -"Furthermore," he continued, "why, I know not, but in spite of all that -I could say in your behalf, his Holiness demands his chalice at once, in -whatever condition it may be. Verily, I am afraid, dear Benvenuto, I say -it in all friendliness, that 't is his purpose to have some other finish -it." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no, not that!" cried the goldsmith, starting up like one bitten by -a serpent. "My chalice is my own, even as the office at the Mint is the -Pope's. His Holiness hath no right to do more than bid me return the -five hundred crowns paid to me in advance, and I will dispose of my work -as may seem good to me." -</p> - -<p> -"Beware, my master," said Pompeo; "imprisonment may be the sequel of -your refusal." -</p> - -<p> -"Signore Pompeo, you're an ass!" retorted Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo left the shop in a rage. -</p> - -<p> -On the following day two of the Holy Father's chamberlains called upon -Benvenuto Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"The Pope has sent us," said one of them, "either to receive the chalice -at your hands, or to take you to prison." -</p> - -<p> -"Monsignori," rejoined Benvenuto, "an artist like myself deserved no -less than to be given in charge to functionaries like yourselves. Here I -am; take me to prison. But I give you fair warning that all this will -not put the Pope's chalice forward one stroke of the graver." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto went with them to the governor of the prison, who, having -doubtless received his instructions in advance, invited him to dine with -him. Throughout the repast the governor used every conceivable argument -to induce Benvenuto to satisfy the Pope by carrying the chalice to him, -assuring him that, if he would make that concession, Clement VII., -violent and obstinate as he was, would forget his displeasure. But the -artist replied that he had already shown the Holy Father his chalice six -times since he began it, and that was all that could justly be -required of him; moreover, he said he knew his Holiness, and that he was -not to be trusted; that he might very well, when he had the chalice in -his hands, take it from him altogether, and give it to some idiot to -finish, who would spoil it. He reiterated his readiness to return the -five hundred crowns paid in advance. -</p> - -<p> -Having said so much, Benvenuto met all subsequent arguments of the -governor by exalting his cook to the skies, and praising his wines. -</p> - -<p> -After dinner, all his compatriots, all his dearest friends, all his -apprentices, led by Ascanio, called upon him to implore him not to rush -headlong to destruction by resisting the commands of Clement VII.; but -Benvenuto told them that he had long desired to establish the great -truth that a goldsmith can be more obstinate than a Pope; and as the -most favorable opportunity he could ask for was now at hand, he -certainly would not let it pass, for fear that it might not return. -</p> - -<p> -His compatriots withdrew, shrugging their shoulders, his friends vowing -that he was mad, and Ascanio weeping bitterly. -</p> - -<p> -Fortunately Pompeo did not forget Cellini, and meanwhile he was saying -slyly to the Pope,— -</p> - -<p> -"Most Holy Father, give your servant a free hand; I will send word to -this obstinate fellow that, since he is so determined, he may send me -the five hundred crowns; as he is a notorious spendthrift he will not -have that sum at his disposal, and will be compelled to give up the -chalice to me." -</p> - -<p> -Clement considered this an excellent device, and bade Pompeo do as he -suggested. And so, that same evening, as Cellini was about to be taken -to the cell assigned him, a chamberlain made his appearance, and -informed the goldsmith that his Holiness accepted his ultimatum, and -demanded the delivery of the chalice or the five hundred crowns without -delay. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto replied that they had but to take him to his workshop, and he -would give them the five hundred crowns. -</p> - -<p> -He was escorted thither by four Swiss, accompanied by the chamberlain. -He entered his bedroom, drew a key from his pocket, opened a small iron -closet built into the wall, plunged his hand into a large bag, took out -five hundred crowns, and, having given them to the chamberlain, showed -him and the four Swiss the door. It should be said, in justice to -Benvenuto Cellini, that they received four crowns for their trouble, and -in justice to the Swiss, that they kissed his hands as they took their -leave. -</p> - -<p> -The chamberlain returned forthwith to the Holy Father, and delivered the -five hundred crowns, whereupon his Holiness, in his desperation, flew -into a violent rage, and began to abuse Pompeo. -</p> - -<p> -"Go thyself to my great engraver at his workshop, animal," he said, -"employ all the soothing arguments of which thy ignorant folly is -capable, and say to him that if he will consent to finish my chalice, I -will give him whatever facilities he may require." -</p> - -<p> -"But, your Holiness," said Pompeo, "will it not be time to-morrow -morning?" -</p> - -<p> -"I fear lest it be already too late this evening, imbecile, and I do not -choose that Benvenuto shall sleep upon his wrath; therefore do my -bidding on the instant, and let me not fail to have a favorable reply -to-morrow morning at my levée." -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo thereupon left the Vatican with drooping feathers, and repaired -to Benvenuto's workshop; it was closed. -</p> - -<p> -He peered through the key-hole and through the cracks in the door, and -scrutinized all the windows, one after another, to see if there was not -one which showed a light; but all were dark. He ventured to knock a -second time somewhat louder than at first, and then a third time, still -louder. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon a window on the first floor opened, and Benvenuto appeared in -his shirt, arquebus in hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Who's there?" he demanded. -</p> - -<p> -"I," the messenger replied. -</p> - -<p> -"Who art thou?" rejoined the goldsmith, although he recognized his man -at once. -</p> - -<p> -"Pompeo." -</p> - -<p> -"Thou liest," said Benvenuto; "I know Pompeo well, and he is far too -great a coward to venture out into the streets of Rome at this hour." -</p> - -<p> -"But, my dear Cellini, I swear—" -</p> - -<p> -"Hold thy peace! thou art a villain, and hast taken the poor devil's -name to induce me to open my door, and then to rob me." -</p> - -<p> -"Master Benvenuto, may I die—" -</p> - -<p> -"Say but another word," cried Benvenuto, pointing the arquebus toward -his interlocutor, "and that wish of thine will be gratified." -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo fled at full speed, crying "Murder!" and disappeared around the -corner of the nearest street. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto thereupon closed his window, hung his arquebus on its nail, -and went to bed once more, laughing in his beard at poor Pompeo's -fright. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning, as he went down to his shop, which had been opened an -hour earlier by his apprentices, he spied Pompeo on the opposite side of -the street, where he had been doing sentry duty since daybreak, waiting -to see him descend. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as he saw Cellini, Pompeo waved his hand to him in the most -affectionately friendly way imaginable. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" said Cellini, "is it you, my dear Pompeo? By my faith! I was -within an ace last night of making a churl pay dearly for his insolence -in assuming your name." -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed!" said Pompeo, forcing himself to smile, and drawing gradually -nearer to the shop; "how did it happen, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto thereupon described the incident to his Holiness's messenger; -but as his friend Benvenuto had described him in their nocturnal -interview as a coward, Pompeo did not dare confess his identity with the -visitor. When his tale was finished, Cellini asked Pompeo to what happy -circumstance he was indebted for the honor of so early a visit from him. -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo thereupon acquitted himself, but in somewhat different terms, be -it understood, of the errand upon which Clement VII. had sent him to his -goldsmith. Benvenuto's features expanded as he proceeded. Clement VII. -yielded; <i>ergo</i> the goldsmith had been more obstinate than the Pope. -</p> - -<p> -"Say to his Holiness," said Benvenuto, when the message was duly -delivered, "that I shall be very happy to obey him, and to do anything -in my power to regain his favor, which I have lost, not by any fault of -my own, but through the evil machinations of envious rivals. As for -yourself, Signore Pompeo, as the Pope does not lack retainers, I counsel -you, in your own interest, to look to it that another than you is sent -to me hereafter; for your health's sake, Signore Pompeo, interfere no -more in my affairs; in pity for yourself, never happen in my path, and -for the welfare of my soul, Pompeo, pray God that I be not your Cæsar." -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo waited to hear no more, but returned to Clement VII. with -Cellini's reply, of which, however, he suppressed the peroration. -</p> - -<p> -Some time thereafter, in order to put the seal to his reconciliation -with Benvenuto, Clement VII. ordered his medallion struck by him. -Benvenuto struck it in bronze, in silver, and in gold, and then carried -it to him. The Pope was so enraptured with it that he cried out in his -admiration, that so beautiful a medallion had never been produced by the -ancients. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, well, your Holiness," said Benvenuto, "had not I displayed some -firmness, we should have been at enmity to-day; for I would never have -forgiven you, and you would have lost a devoted servant. Look you, Holy -Bather," he continued, by way of good counsel, "your Holiness would not -do ill to remember now and then the opinion of many discreet folk, that -one should bleed seven times before cutting once, and you would do well -also to allow yourself to be something less easily made the dupe of -lying tongues and envious detractors; so much for your guidance in -future, and we will say no more about it, Most Holy Father." -</p> - -<p> -Thus did Benvenuto pardon Clement VII., which he certainly would not -have done had he loved him less; but, as his compatriot, he was deeply -attached to him. Great, therefore, was his sorrow when the Pope suddenly -died, a few months subsequent to the episode we have described. The man -of iron burst into tears at the news, and for a week he wept like a -child. The Pontiff's demise was doubly calamitous to poor Cellini. On -the very day of his burial he met Pompeo, whom he had not seen since the -day when he bade him spare him the too frequent infliction of his -presence. -</p> - -<p> -It should be said that since Cellini's dire threats, the unhappy Pompeo -had not dared to go out unless accompanied by a dozen men well armed, to -whom he gave the same pay that the Pope gave his Swiss Guards; so that -every walk that he took in the city cost him two or three crowns. And -even when surrounded by his twelve sbirri, he trembled at the thought of -meeting Benvenuto Cellini, for he knew that if the meeting should result -in an affray, and any mishap should befall the goldsmith, the Pope, who -was really very fond of him, would make him, Pompeo, pay dearly for it. -But, as we have said, Clement VII. was dead, and his death restored some -little courage to Pompeo. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto had been to St. Peter's to kiss the feet of the deceased -Pontiff, and was returning through the street Dei Banchi, accompanied by -Pagolo and Ascanio, when he found himself face to face with Pompeo and -his twelve men. At the sight of his enemy, Pompeo became very pale; but -as he looked around and saw how amply provided he was with defenders, -while Benvenuto had only two boys with him, he took heart of grace, -halted, and nodded his head mockingly, while he toyed with the hilt of -his dagger with his right hand. -</p> - -<p> -At sight of this group of men by whom his master was threatened, Ascanio -put his hand to his sword, while Pagolo pretended to be looking in -another direction; but Benvenuto did not choose to expose his beloved -pupil to so unequal a conflict. He laid his hand upon Ascanio's, pushing -the half-drawn blade back into the scabbard, and walked on as if he had -seen nothing, or as if he had taken no offence at what he saw. Ascanio -could hardly recognize his master in such guise, but as his master -withdrew, he withdrew with him. -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo triumphantly made a deep salutation to Benvenuto, and pursued his -way, still surrounded by his sbirri, who imitated his bravado. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto bit his lips till the blood came, while externally his -features wore a smile. His behavior was inexplicable to any one who knew -the irascible nature of the illustrious goldsmith. -</p> - -<p> -But they had not proceeded a hundred yards when he stopped before the -workshop of one of his confrères, and went in, alleging as a pretext -his desire to see an antique vase which had recently been found in the -Etruscan tombs of Corneto. He bade his pupils go on to the shop, and -promised to join them there in a few moments. -</p> - -<p> -As the reader will understand, this was only a pretext to get Ascanio -out of the way, for as soon as he thought that the young man and his -companion, concerning whom he was less anxious because he was sure that -such courage as he possessed would not carry him too far, had turned the -corner of the street, he replaced the vase upon the shelf from which he -took it, and darted out of the shop. -</p> - -<p> -With three strides Benvenuto was in the street where he had met Pompeo; -but Pompeo was no longer there. Luckily, or rather unluckily, this man, -encompassed by his twelve sbirri, was a noticeable object, and so when -Benvenuto inquired as to the direction he had taken, the first person to -whom he applied was able to give him the information, and like a -bloodhound that has recovered a lost scent Benvenuto started in pursuit. -</p> - -<p> -Pompeo had stopped at a druggist's door, at the corner of the Chiavica, -and was vaunting to the worthy compounder of drugs the prowess he had -shown in his meeting with Benvenuto Cellini, when his eye suddenly fell -upon the latter turning the corner of the street, with fire in his eye, -and the perspiration streaming down his forehead. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto shouted exultantly as he caught sight of him, and Pompeo -stopped short in the middle of his sentence. It was evident that -something terrible was about to happen. The bravos formed a group around -Pompeo and drew their swords. -</p> - -<p> -It was an insane performance for one man to attack thirteen, but -Benvenuto was, as we have said, one of those leonine creatures who do -not count their enemies. Against the thirteen swords which threatened -him, he drew a small keen-edged dagger which he always wore in his -girdle, and rushed into the centre of the group, sweeping aside two or -three swords with one arm, overturning two or three men with the other, -until he made his way to where Pompeo stood, and seized him by the -collar. But the group at once closed upon him. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon naught could be seen save a confused struggling mass, whence -issued loud shouts, and above which swords were waving. For a moment the -living mass rolled on the ground, in shapeless, inextricable confusion, -then a man sprang to his feet with a shout of triumph, and with a mighty -effort, forced his way out of the group as he made his way in, bleeding -himself, but triumphantly waving his blood-stained dagger. It was -Benvenuto Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -Another man remained upon the pavement, writhing in the agony of death. -He had received two blows from the dagger, one below the ear, the other -at the base of the neck behind the collar bone. In a few seconds he -breathed his last,—it was Pompeo. -</p> - -<p> -Any other than Benvenuto, after such a deed, would have taken himself -off at full speed, but he passed his dagger to his left hand, drew his -sword, and resolutely awaited the sbirri. -</p> - -<p> -But the sbirri had no further business with Benvenuto; he who paid them -was dead, and consequently could pay them no more. They ran off like a -flock of frightened rabbits, leaving Pompeo's body where it lay. -</p> - -<p> -At that juncture Ascanio appeared, and rushed into his master's arms; he -was not deceived by the ruse of the Etruscan vase, but although he had -made all possible speed he arrived a few seconds too late. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap03"></a></h4> - -<h4>III -<br /><br /> -DÆDALUS</h4> - -<p> -Benvenuto returned to his abode with Ascanio, somewhat ill at ease, not -because of the three wounds he had received, which were all too slight -to occasion him any anxiety, but because of the possible results of the -affray. Six months before, he had killed Guasconti, his brother's -murderer, but had come off scot free by virtue of the protection of Pope -Clement VII.; moreover, that act was committed by way of reprisal, but -now Benvenuto's protector had gone the way of all flesh, and the -prospect was much more ominous. -</p> - -<p> -Remorse, be it understood, did not disturb him for one moment. But we -beg our readers not for that reason to form an unfavorable opinion of -our worthy goldsmith, who after killing a man, after killing two men -perhaps,—indeed, if we search his past very carefully, after killing -three men,—although he had a wholesome dread of the watch, did not -for one instant fear to meet his God. -</p> - -<p> -For this man, in the year of grace 1540, was an ordinary man, an -every day man, as the Germans say. Men thought so little of dying in -those days, that they naturally came to think very little of killing; we -are brave to-day, but the men of those days were foolhardy; we are men -grown, they were hot-headed youths. Life was so abundant in those days -that men lost it, gave it, sold it, nay, even took it, with absolute -indifference and recklessness. -</p> - -<p> -There was once an author who was calumniated and abused for many years, -whose name was made a synonym for treachery, cruelty, and all the words -which mean infamy, and it needed this nineteenth century, the most -impartial since the birth of humanity, to rehabilitate that author as -the grand patriot and noble-hearted man he was. And yet Nicolo -Machiavelli's only crime was that he lived at an epoch when brute -strength and success were all in all; when folk judged by deeds, not -words, and when such men as Cesar Borgia the sovereign, Machiavelli the -thinker, and Benvenuto Cellini the artisan, marched straight to their -goal, without thought of methods or reasons. -</p> - -<p> -One day a body was found in the public square of Cesena, cut in four -pieces; it was the body of Ramiro d'Orco. Now, as Ramiro d'Orco was a -considerable personage in Italy, the Florentine Republic sought to -ascertain the causes of his death. The Eight of the Signoria therefore -wrote to Machiavelli, their ambassador at Cesena, to satisfy their -curiosity. -</p> - -<p> -But Machiavelli made no other reply than this:— -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -"MAGNIFICENT SIGNORIA:—I have naught to say anent the death of Ramiro -d'Orco, save this: that no prince in the world is so skilful as Cesar -Borgia in the art of making and unmaking men according to their deserts. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"MACHIAVELLI." -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -Benvenuto was an exponent of the theory enunciated by the illustrious -secretary of the Florentine Republic. Benvenuto the genius, Cesar Borgia -the prince, both considered themselves above the laws by virtue of their -power. In their eyes the distinction between what was just and what was -unjust was identical with the distinction between what they could and -what they could not do; of right and duty they had not the slightest -conception. A man stood in their path, they suppressed the man. To-day -civilization does him the honor of purchasing him. -</p> - -<p> -But in those old days the blood was boiling so abundantly in the veins -of the young nations that they shed it for their health's sake. -</p> - -<p> -They fought by instinct, not for their country to any great extent, not -for women to any great extent, but largely for the sake of fighting, -nation against nation, man against man. Benvenuto made war upon Pompeo -as François I. did upon Charles V. France and Spain fought an -intermittent duel, now at Marignano, and again at Pavia; all as if it -were the most natural thing in the world, without preamble, without long -harangues, without lamentation. -</p> - -<p> -In the same way genius was exercised by those who possessed it as an -innate faculty, as an absolute royal power, based upon divine right: art -in the sixteenth century was looked upon as the natural birthright of -man. -</p> - -<p> -We must not therefore wonder at these men who wondered at nothing; we -have, to explain their homicides, their whims, and their faults, an -expression which explains and justifies everything in our country, -especially in these days of ours:— -</p> - -<p> -<i>That was the fashion.</i> -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto therefore did simply what it was the fashion to do; Pompeo -annoyed Benvenuto Cellini, and Benvenuto suppressed Pompeo. -</p> - -<p> -But the police occasionally investigated these acts of suppression; they -were very careful not to protect a man when he was alive, but perhaps -once in ten times they showed a feeble desire to avenge him when he was -dead. -</p> - -<p> -They experienced such a desire in the matter of Pompeo and Benvenuto -Cellini. As the goldsmith, having returned to his shop, was putting -certain papers in the fire, and some money in his pocket, he was -arrested by the pontifical sbirri, and taken to the castle of San -Angelo,—an occurrence for which he was almost consoled by the -reflection that the castle of San Angelo was where noblemen were -imprisoned. -</p> - -<p> -But another thought that was no less efficacious in bringing consolation -to Cellini as he entered the castle was this,—that a man endowed with -so inventive a mind as his need not long delay about leaving it, in one -way or another. And so, when he was taken before the governor, who was -sitting at a table covered with a green cloth, and looking through a -great pile of papers, he said:— -</p> - -<p> -"Sir Governor, multiply your locks and bolts and sentinels threefold; -confine me in your highest cell or in your deepest dungeon; keep close -watch upon me all day, and lie awake all night; and yet I warn you that, -despite all that, I will escape." -</p> - -<p> -The governor looked up at the prisoner who addressed him with such -unheard of assurance, and recognized Benvenuto Cellini, whom he had had -the honor of entertaining three months before. -</p> - -<p> -Notwithstanding his acquaintance with the man, perhaps because of it, -Benvenuto's allocution caused the worthy governor the most profound -dismay. He was a Florentine, one Master Georgio, a knight of the -Ugolini, and an excellent man, but somewhat weak in the head. However, -he soon recovered from his first surprise, and ordered Benvenuto to be -taken to the highest cell in the castle. The platform was immediately -above it; a sentinel was stationed on the platform, and another sentinel -at the foot of the wall. -</p> - -<p> -The governor called the prisoner's attention to these details, and when -he thought that he had had time to digest them, he said:— -</p> - -<p> -"My dear Benvenuto, one may open locks, force doors, dig out from an -underground dungeon, make a hole through a wall, bribe sentinels and put -jailers to sleep; but without wings one cannot descend to earth from -this height." -</p> - -<p> -"I will do it, nevertheless," said Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -The governor looked him in the eye, and began to think that his prisoner -was mad. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, in that case, you propose to fly?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why not? I have always believed that man can fly, but I have lacked -time to make the experiment. Here I shall have time enough, and, -pardieu! I mean to solve the problem. The adventure of Dædalus is -history, not fable." -</p> - -<p> -"Beware the sun, dear Benvenuto," sneeringly replied the governor; -"beware the sun." -</p> - -<p> -"I will fly away by night," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -The governor was not expecting that reply, so that he had no suitable -repartee at hand, and withdrew in a rage. -</p> - -<p> -In good sooth it was most important that Benvenuto should make his -escape, at any price. At another time he would not have been at all -perturbed because he had killed a man, and would have been quit of all -responsibility by following the procession of the Virgin in August, clad -in a doublet and cloak of blue armoisin. But the new Pope, Paul III., -was vindictive to the last degree, and when he was still Monsignore -Farnese, Benvenuto had had a crow to pluck with him, apropos of a vase -which the goldsmith refused to deliver until paid for, and which his -Eminence sought to procure by force, the result being to subject -Benvenuto to the dire necessity of using his Eminence's retainers -somewhat roughly. Moreover, the Holy Father was jealous because King -François I. had commanded Monseigneur de Montluc, his ambassador to the -Holy See, to request that Benvenuto be sent to France. When he was -informed of Benvenuto's imprisonment, Monseigneur de Montluc urged the -request more strenuously than before, thinking thereby to render the -unfortunate prisoner a service; but he was entirely unfamiliar with the -character of the new Pope, who was even more obstinate than his -predecessor, Clement VII. Now Paul III. had sworn that Benvenuto should -pay dearly for his escapade, and if he was not precisely in danger of -death,—a pope would have thought twice in those days before ordering -such an artist to the gallows,—he was in great danger of being -forgotten in his prison. It was therefore of the utmost importance that -Benvenuto should not forget himself, and that was why he was determined -to take flight without awaiting the interrogatories and judgment, which -might never have arrived; for the Pope, angered by the intervention of -François I., refused even to hear Benvenuto Cellini's name mentioned. -The prisoner knew all this from Ascanio, who was managing his -establishment, and who, by dint of persistent entreaties, had obtained -permission to visit his master. Their interviews, of course, were held -through two iron gratings, and in presence of witnesses watching to see -that the pupil passed neither file, nor rope, nor knife to his master. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as the door of his cell was locked behind the governor, -Benvenuto set about inspecting his surroundings. -</p> - -<p> -The following articles were contained within the four walls of his new -abiding place: a bed, a fireplace, a table, and two chairs. Two days -after his installation there, he obtained a supply of clay and a -modelling tool. The governor at first declined to allow him to have -these means of distraction, but he changed his mind upon reflecting -that, if the artist's mind were thus employed, he might perhaps abandon -the idea of escape, to which he clung so tenaciously. The same day, -Benvenuto sketched a colossal Venus. -</p> - -<p> -All this of itself was no great matter; but in conjunction with -imagination, patience, and energy, it was much. -</p> - -<p> -On a certain very cold day in December, when the fire was lighted on the -hearth, the servant changed the sheets on his bed and left the soiled -ones upon a chair. As soon as the door was closed, Benvenuto made one -bound from the chair on which he was sitting to the bed, took out of the -mattress two enormous handfuls of the maize leaves which are used to -stuff mattresses in Italy, stowed the sheets away in their place, -returned to his statue, took up his tool and resumed his work. At that -moment the servant returned for the forgotten sheets, and after looking -everywhere for them, asked Benvenuto if he had not seen them. But he -replied carelessly, as if absorbed by his work, that some of his fellows -doubtless had taken them, or that he carried them away himself without -knowing it. The servant had no suspicion of the truth, so little time -had elapsed since he left the room, and Benvenuto played his part so -naturally; and as the sheets were never found, he was very careful to -say nothing, for fear of being obliged to pay for them or of losing his -employment. -</p> - -<p> -One who has never lived through some supreme crisis can form no idea of -the possibilities of such a time in the way of terrible catastrophes and -poignant anguish. The most trivial accidents of life arouse in us joy or -despair. As soon as the servant left the room, Benvenuto fell upon his -knees, and thanked God for the help He had sent him. -</p> - -<p> -As his bed was never touched until the next morning after it was once -made, he quietly left the sheets in the mattress. -</p> - -<p> -When the night came he began to cut the sheets, which luckily were new -and strong, in strips three or four inches wide, then tied them together -as securely as he could; lastly, he cut open his statue, which was of -clay, hollowed it out, placed his treasure in the cavity, then spread -clay over the wound, and smoothed it off with his finger and his -modelling tool, until the most skilful artist could not have discovered -that poor Venus had been made to undergo the Cæsarean operation. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning the governor entered the prisoner's cell unexpectedly, -as he was accustomed to do, but found him as usual calm and hard at -work. Every morning the poor man, who had been specially threatened for -the night, trembled lest he should find the cell empty; and it should be -said, in justice to his frankness, that he did not conceal his joy every -morning when he found it occupied. -</p> - -<p> -"I confess that you make me terribly anxious, Benvenuto," said the poor -man; "however, I begin to think that your threats of escape amount to -nothing." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't threaten you, Master Georgio," rejoined Benvenuto, "I warn -you." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you still hope to fly away?" -</p> - -<p> -"Luckily it isn't a mere hope, but downright certainty, pardieu!" -</p> - -<p> -"Demonio! how will you do it?" cried the poor governor, dismayed beyond -measure by Benvenuto's real or pretended confidence in his means of -escape. -</p> - -<p> -"That's my secret, master. But I give you fair warning that my wings are -growing." -</p> - -<p> -The governor instinctively turned his eye upon the prisoner's shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"'T is thus," continued Benvenuto, working away at his statue, and -rounding the hips in such fashion that one would have thought he -proposed to rival the Venus Callipyge. "Betwixt us there is a duel -impending. You have on your side enormous towers, thick doors, strong -bolts, innumerable keepers always on the alert; I have on my side my -brain, and these poor hands, and I warn you very frankly that you will -be beaten. But as you are a very clever man, as you have taken every -possible precaution, you will at least, when I am gone, have the -consolation of knowing that it is through no fault of yours, Master -Georgio, that you have no occasion to reproach yourself at all, Master -Georgio, and that you neglected nothing that could help you to detain -me, Master Georgio. And now what say you to this hip, for you are a -lover of art, I know." -</p> - -<p> -Such unblushing assurance enraged the unhappy official. His prisoner had -become his fixed idea, upon which all his faculties were centred. He -grew melancholy, lost his appetite, and started constantly, like one -suddenly aroused from sleep. One night Benvenuto heard a great noise -upon the platform; then it was transferred to his corridor, and finally -stopped at his door. The door opened, and he saw Master Georgio, in -dressing-gown and nightcap, attended by four jailers and eight guards. -The governor rushed to his bedside with distorted features. Benvenuto -sat up in bed and laughed in his face. The governor, without taking -offence at his hilarity, breathed like a diver returning to the surface. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! God be praised!" he cried; "he is still here! There's much good -sense in the saying, <i>Songe</i>—<i>mensonge</i>" (Dream—lie). -</p> - -<p> -"In God's name, what's the matter?" demanded Benvenuto, "and what happy -circumstance affords me the pleasure of a visit from you at such an -hour, Master Georgio?" -</p> - -<p> -"Jésus Dieu! it's nothing at all, and I am quit of it this time for the -fright. Did I not dream that your accursed wings had grown,—huge -wings, whereon you tranquilly hovered above the castle of San Angelo, -saying, 'Adieu, my dear governor, adieu! I did not wish to go away -without taking leave of you. I go; I pray that I may be so blessed as -never to see you more.'" -</p> - -<p> -"What! did I say that to you, Master Georgio?" -</p> - -<p> -"Those were your very words. Ah, Benvenuto, you are a sorry guest for -me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! I trust that you do not deem me so ill-bred as that. Happily it was -but a dream; for otherwise I would not forgive you." -</p> - -<p> -"Happily it is not true. I hold you fast, my dear friend, and although -truth compels me to say that your society is not of the most agreeable -to me, I hope to hold you for a long time yet to come." -</p> - -<p> -"I do not think it," retorted Benvenuto, with the confident smile which -caused his host to use strong language. -</p> - -<p> -The governor went out, cursing Benvenuto roundly, and the next morning -he issued orders that his cell should be inspected every two hours, -night and day. This rigid inspection was continued for a month; but at -the end of that time, as there was no apparent reason to believe that -Benvenuto was even thinking of escape, the vigilance of his keepers was -somewhat relaxed. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, however, had employed the month in accomplishing a terrible -task. -</p> - -<p> -As we have said, he minutely examined his cell immediately after he was -first consigned to it, and from that moment his mind was made up as to -the manner of his escape. His window was barred, and the bars were too -strong to be removed with the hand or with his modelling tool, the only -iron instrument he possessed. The chimney narrowed so toward the top -that the prisoner must needs have had the fairy Melusine's power of -transforming herself into a serpent to pass through it. -</p> - -<p> -The door remained. Ah, the door! Let us see how the door was made. -</p> - -<p> -It was a heavy oaken door two fingers thick, secured by two locks and -four bolts, and sheathed on the inside with iron plates kept in place by -nails at the top and bottom. It was through that door that the escape -must be effected. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto had noticed in the corridor, a few steps from the door, the -stairway leading to the platform. At intervals of two hours he heard the -footsteps of the relieving sentinel going up, then the steps of the -other coming down; after which he would hear nothing more for another -two hours. -</p> - -<p> -The question for him to solve, then, was simply this: how to reach the -other side of that door, which was secured by two locks and four bolts, -and furthermore sheathed on the inside with iron plates kept in place by -nails at the top and bottom. The solution of this problem was the task -to which Benvenuto had devoted the month in question. -</p> - -<p> -With his modelling tool, which was of iron, he removed, one by one, the -heads of all the nails, save four above and four below, which he left -until the last day: then, in order that his work might not be detected, -he replaced the missing heads with exactly similar ones, modelled in -clay and covered with iron filings, so that it was impossible for the -keenest eye to distinguish the false from the true. As there were, at -top and bottom together, some sixty nails, and as it took at least one -hour, and sometimes two, to decapitate each nail, the magnitude of the -task may be understood. -</p> - -<p> -Every evening, when everybody had retired, and nothing could be heard -save the footsteps of the sentinel walking back and forth over his head, -he built a great fire on the hearth, and piled glowing embers against -the iron plates on his door; the iron became red hot, and gradually -transformed to charcoal the wood upon which it was applied; but no -indication of the carbonizing process appeared on the other side of the -door. -</p> - -<p> -For a whole month Benvenuto devoted himself to this task, as we have -said; but at the end of the month it was finished, and he only awaited a -favorable opportunity to make his escape. He was compelled, however, to -wait a few days, for the moon was near the full when the work was done. -</p> - -<p> -There was nothing more to be done to the nails, so Benvenuto continued -to char the door, and drive the governor to desperation. That very day -the functionary entered his cell more preoccupied than ever. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear prisoner," said the worthy man, whose mind constantly recurred -to his fixed idea, "do you still propose to fly away? Come, tell me -frankly." -</p> - -<p> -"More than ever, my dear host," replied Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Look you," said the governor, "you may say what you choose, but upon my -word, I believe it's impossible." -</p> - -<p> -"Impossible, Master Georgio, impossible!" rejoined the artist; "why, you -know full well that word does not exist for me, who have always -exerted myself to do those things which are the most impossible for -other men, and that with success. Impossible, my dear host! Why, have I -not sometimes amused myself by making nature jealous, by fashioning with -gold and emeralds and diamonds a flower fairer far than all the flowers -that the dew empearls? Think you that he who can make flowers can not -make wings?" -</p> - -<p> -"May God help me!" said the governor; "with your insolent assurance -you'll make me lose my wits! But tell me, in order that these wings may -sustain your weight in the air,—a thing which seems impossible to me, -I confess,—what form shall you give them?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have thought deeply thereupon, as you may well imagine, since my -safety depends entirely upon the shape of my wings." -</p> - -<p> -"With what result?" -</p> - -<p> -"After examining all flying things, I have concluded that, if I wish to -reproduce by art what they have received from God, I can copy the bat -most successfully." -</p> - -<p> -"But when all is said, Benvenuto," continued the governor, "even if you -had the materials with which to make a pair of wings, would not your -courage fail you when the time came to use them?" -</p> - -<p> -"Give me what I need for their construction, my dear governor, and I'll -reply by flying away." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you need, in God's name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! mon Dieu! almost nothing; a little forge, an anvil, files, tongs -and pincers to make the springs, and twenty yards of oiled silk for the -membranes. -</p> - -<p> -"Good! very good!" said Master Georgio; "that reassures me somewhat, -for, clever as you may be, you never will succeed in obtaining all those -things here." -</p> - -<p> -"'T is done," rejoined Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -The governor leaped from his chair; but he instantly reflected that it -was a material impossibility. And yet, for all that, his poor brain had -not a moment's respite. Every bird that flew by his window he imagined -to be Benvenuto Cellini, so great is the influence of a master mind over -one of moderate capacity. -</p> - -<p> -The same day Master Georgio sent for the most skilful machinist in all -Rome, and ordered him to measure him for a pair of bat's wings. -</p> - -<p> -The machinist stared at the governor in blank amazement, without -replying, thinking, with some reason, that Master Georgio had gone mad. -</p> - -<p> -But as Master Georgio insisted, as Master Georgio was wealthy, and as -Master Georgio had the wherewithal to pay for insane freaks, if he chose -to indulge in them, the machinist set about the task, and a week later -brought him a pair of magnificent wings, fitted to an iron waist to be -worn upon the body, and worked by means of an extremely ingenious -arrangement of springs, with most encouraging regularity. -</p> - -<p> -Master Georgio paid his man the stipulated price, measured the space -required to accommodate the apparatus, went up to Benvenuto's cell, and -without a word overturned everything therein, looking under the bed, -peering up the chimney, fumbling in the mattress, and leaving not the -smallest corner unvisited. -</p> - -<p> -Then he went out, still without speaking, convinced that, unless -Benvenuto was a sorcerer, no pair of wings similar to his own could be -hidden in his cell. -</p> - -<p> -It was clear that the unhappy governor's brain was becoming more and -more disordered. -</p> - -<p> -Upon descending to his own quarters, Master Georgio found the machinist -waiting for him; he had returned to call his attention to the fact that -there was an iron ring at the end of each wing, intended to support the -legs of a man flying in a horizontal position. -</p> - -<p> -The machinist had no sooner left him than Master Georgio locked himself -in, donned the iron waist, unfolded his wings, hung up his legs, and, -lying flat upon his stomach, made his first attempt at flying. -</p> - -<p> -But, try as he would, he could not succeed in rising above the floor. -</p> - -<p> -After two or three trials, always with the same result, he sent for the -mechanic once more. -</p> - -<p> -"Master," said he, "I have tried your wings, but they won't work." -</p> - -<p> -"How did you try them?" -</p> - -<p> -Master Georgio described his repeated experiments in detail. The -mechanic listened with a sober face, and said, when he had -concluded:— -</p> - -<p> -"I am not surprised; as you lay on the floor, you hadn't a sufficient -quantity of air under your wings. You must go to the top of the castle -of San Angelo, and boldly launch yourself into space." -</p> - -<p> -"And you think that in that way I can fly?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am sure of it." -</p> - -<p> -"If you are so sure of it, would it not be as well to make the -experiment yourself?" -</p> - -<p> -"The wings are proportioned to the weight of your body and not of mine," -replied the machinist. "Wings to carry my weight would need to measure a -foot and a half more from tip to tip." -</p> - -<p> -And with that he bowed and took his leave. -</p> - -<p> -"The devil!" exclaimed Master Georgio. -</p> - -<p> -Throughout that day Master Georgio indulged in various vagaries, which -tended to prove that his reason, like Roland's, was penetrating farther -and farther into imaginary realms. -</p> - -<p> -In the evening, just at bedtime, he summoned all the servants, all the -jailers, all the guards. -</p> - -<p> -"If," said he, "you learn that Benvenuto Cellini is intending to fly -away, let him go, and notify me, nothing more; for I shall know where to -go to capture him, even in the dark, since I am myself a veritable bat, -while he, whatever he may say, is only a false bat." -</p> - -<p> -The poor governor was quite mad; but as they hoped that a night's rest -would have a soothing effect upon him, they decided to wait until -morning before advising the Pope. -</p> - -<p> -Moreover it was an abominable night, dark and rainy, and no one cared to -go out in such weather; always excepting Benvenuto Cellini, who had -selected that very night for his escape, in a spirit of contrariety -doubtless. -</p> - -<p> -And so, as soon as he heard the clock strike ten, and the footsteps -indicating that the sentinel had been relieved, he fell on his knees and -offered a fervent prayer, after which he set to work. -</p> - -<p> -In the first place he removed the heads of the four nails, which alone -held the iron plates in place. The last yielded to his efforts just at -midnight. -</p> - -<p> -He heard the steps of the sentinel going up to the platform; he stood -with his ear glued to the door, without breathing, until the relieved -sentinel came down, the steps died away in the distance, and silence -reigned once more. -</p> - -<p> -The rain fell with redoubled force, and Benvenuto's heart leaped for joy -as he heard it heating against the window. -</p> - -<p> -He at once tried to remove the iron plates; as there was nothing to hold -them, they yielded to his efforts, and he placed them, one by one, -against the wall. -</p> - -<p> -He then lay flat upon the floor, and attacked the bottom of the door -with his modelling tool, sharpened like a dagger, and fitted to a wooden -handle. The oak was entirely changed to carbon, and gave way at the -first touch. -</p> - -<p> -In an instant Benvenuto had made, an aperture at the bottom of the door -sufficiently large to allow him to crawl through it. He reopened the -belly of his statue, took out the strips of linen, coiled them around -his waist like a girdle, armed himself with his modelling tool, of which -he had, as we have said, made a dagger, and fell on his knees once more -and prayed. -</p> - -<p> -Then he passed his head through the hole, then his shoulders, then the -rest of his body, and found himself in the corridor. -</p> - -<p> -He stood erect; but his legs trembled so that he was compelled to lean -against the wall for support. His heart was beating as if it would -burst, and his head was on fire. A drop of perspiration trembled at the -end of each hair, and he clutched the handle of his dagger in his hand, -as if some one were trying to tear it away from him. -</p> - -<p> -However, as everything was quiet, as nothing was stirring and not a -sound was to be heard, Benvenuto soon recovered himself, and felt his -way along the wall of the corridor with his hand, until the wall came to -an end. Then he put out his foot and felt the first step of the -staircase, or, more properly speaking, the ladder, which led to the -platform. -</p> - -<p> -He mounted the rungs, one by one, shivering as the wood creaked under -his feet, until he felt a breath of air; then the rain beat against his -faee as his head rose above the level of the platform, and as he had -been in most intense darkness for a quarter of an hour, he was able to -judge at once what reason he had to fear or hope. -</p> - -<p> -The balance seemed to incline toward hope. -</p> - -<p> -The sentinel had taken refuge from the storm in his sentry-box. How, as -the sentinels who mounted guard upon the castle of San Angelo were -stationed there, not to inspect the platform, but to look down into the -moat and survey the surrounding country, the closed side of the -sentry-box faced the top of the ladder by which Benvenuto ascended. -</p> - -<p> -The artist crept cautiously on his hands and knees toward that part of -the platform which was farthest removed from the sentry-box. There he -securely fastened one end of his improvised rope to a jutting projection -some six inches in length, and then knelt for the third time. -</p> - -<p> -"O Lord!" he muttered, "O Lord! do Thou help me, since I am seeking to -help myself." -</p> - -<p> -With that prayer upon his lips, he let himself down by his hands, -heedless of the bruises upon his knees and his forehead, which, from -time to time, rubbed against the face of the wall, and at last reached -the solid earth. -</p> - -<p> -When he felt the ground beneath his feet, his breast swelled with an -infinitude of joy and pride. He contemplated the immense height from -which he had descended, and could not avoid saying in an undertone, -"Free at last!" But his joy was short-lived. -</p> - -<p> -As he turned away from the tower, his knees trembled under him; directly -in front of him rose a wall recently built, and of which he knew -nothing; he was lost. -</p> - -<p> -Everything seemed to give way within him, and in his despair he fell to -the ground; but as he fell, his foot struck against something -hard,—it was a long beam; he gave a slight exclamation of surprise -and delight; he was saved. -</p> - -<p> -Ah! no one knows what heart-rending alternations of joy and hope one -short minute of life can contain. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto seized the beam as a shipwrecked sailor seizes the spar which -may save him from drowning. Under ordinary circumstances two strong men -would have found difficulty in lifting it; he dragged it to the wall, -and stood it on end against it. Then he climbed to the top of the wall, -clinging to the beam with his hands and knees, but when he arrived there -his strength was insufficient to raise the beam and lower it on the -other side. -</p> - -<p> -For a moment his head swam; he closed his eyes, and it seemed as if he -were struggling in a lake of flames. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly he remembered his strips of linen, by means of which he had -descended from the platform. -</p> - -<p> -He slid down the beam to the ground once more, and ran to the spot where -he had left them hanging; but he had fastened them so securely at the -opposite end, that he could not detach them. In his desperation he -raised himself from the ground by hanging to them, pulling with all his -strength, and hoping to break them. Fortunately one of the knots slipped -at last, and Benvenuto fell to the ground, grasping a fragment some -twelve feet long. -</p> - -<p> -This was all that he needed; he rose with a bound, and, filled with -fresh vigor, climbed up to the top of the wall once more, fastened the -cord to the end of the beam, and slid down on the other side. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached the end of the cord he felt in vain for the ground with -his feet, and, upon looking over his shoulder, saw that it was still -some six feet away. He let go the cord, and dropped. -</p> - -<p> -He lay still for an instant; he was completely exhausted, and there was -no skin left upon his legs and hands. For some moments he gazed stupidly -at his bleeding flesh; but five o'clock struck, and he saw that the -stars were beginning to pale. -</p> - -<p> -He rose; but as he rose, a sentinel whom he had not noticed, but who had -undoubtedly witnessed his performance, walked toward him. Benvenuto saw -that he was lost, and that he must either kill or be killed. He drew his -modelling tool from his belt, and marched straight toward the guard, -with such a determined expression that worthy doubtless realized -that he had not only a powerful man, but a deathly despair, to contend -with. Benvenuto was determined not to give ground, but suddenly the -soldier turned his back upon him as if he had not seen him. The prisoner -understood what that meant. -</p> - -<p> -He ran to the last rampart, and found himself some twelve or fifteen -feet above the moat. Such a trifle was not likely to stop a man like -Benvenuto Cellini, in his present predicament, when he had left part of -his cord hanging from the top of the tower, and the other part attached -to the beam, so that he had nothing left with which to lower himself, -and there was no time to lose. He hung by his hands from a ring in the -masonry, and, with a mental prayer, let himself drop. -</p> - -<p> -This time he fainted outright. -</p> - -<p> -An hour passed before he came to himself; but the coolness which is -always noticeable in the air as dawn approaches, revived him. He lay for -an instant with his mind in confusion, then passed his hand over his -forehead and remembered everything. -</p> - -<p> -He felt a sharp pain in his head, and saw blood upon the stones where he -lay, which had trickled down from his face. He put his hand to his -forehead a second time, not to collect his thoughts, but to investigate -his wounds, which he found were but skin deep. He smiled and tried to -stand up, but fell heavily back; his right leg was broken three inches -above the ankle. The leg was so benumbed that at first he felt no pain. -</p> - -<p> -He at once removed his shirt and tore it into strips, then put the ends -of the bone together as well as he could, and applied the bandage, -binding it with all his strength, and passing it under the sole of his -foot now and then, in order to keep the bones in place. -</p> - -<p> -Then he dragged himself on all fours toward one of the city gates which -was within five hundred yards. After half an hour of atrocious -suffering, he reached the gate only to find that it was closed. But he -noticed a large stone under the gate, which yielded to his first attempt -to remove it, and he passed through the hole left by it. -</p> - -<p> -He had not taken twenty steps beyond the gate when he was attacked by a -pack of famished dogs, who were attracted by the odor of blood. He drew -his modelling tool, and despatched the largest and most savage with a -blow in the side. The others immediately threw themselves upon their -defunct comrade and devoured him. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto dragged himself along to the church of La Transpontina, where -he fell in with a water-carrier who had just filled his jars and loaded -his donkey. He called him. -</p> - -<p> -"Look you." he said; "I was with my mistress; circumstances compelled -me, although I went in at the door, to come out through the window. I -leaped from the first floor, and broke my leg; carry me to the steps of -Saint Peter's, and I will give you a golden crown." -</p> - -<p> -The water-carrier, without a word, took the wounded man on his shoulder, -and carried him to the designated spot. Having received his pay, he went -his way without so much as looking behind. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon Benvenuto, still on all fours, made his way to the palace of -Monseigneur de Montluc, the French Ambassador, who lived only a few -steps away. -</p> - -<p> -Monseigneur de Montluc exerted himself so zealously in his behalf, that -at the end of a month Benvenuto was cured, at the end of two months he -was pardoned, and at the end of four months he started for France with -Ascanio and Pagolo. -</p> - -<p> -The poor governor, who had gone mad, lived and died a madman, constantly -imagining that he was a bat, and making the most violent efforts to fly. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap04"></a></h4> - -<h4>IV -<br /><br /> -SCOZZONE</h4> - -<p> -When Benvenuto Cellini arrived in France, François I. was at the -château of Fontainebleau with his whole court. The artist stopped in -the town, sending word of his arrival to the Cardinal of Ferrara. The -cardinal, who knew that the king was impatiently awaiting his coming, at -once transmitted the intelligence to his Majesty. Benvenuto was received -by the king the same day. -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto," he said, addressing him in that mellifluous and expressive -tongue in which the artist wrote so well, "for a few days, while you are -recovering from your fatigue and vexation, repose, enjoy yourself, make -merry, and meanwhile we will reflect and determine upon some noble work -for you to execute." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he ordered apartments in the château to be made ready for the -artist, and that he should want for nothing. -</p> - -<p> -Thus Benvenuto found himself at the outset installed in the very centre -of French civilization, at that time behind that of Italy, with which it -was already struggling for supremacy, and which it was soon to surpass. -As he looked around, he could easily believe that he had never left the -Tuscan capital, for he found himself in the midst of the arts and -artists he had known at Florence; Primaticcio had succeeded Leonardo da -Vinci and Rosso. -</p> - -<p> -It was for Benvenuto, therefore, to show himself not unworthy of these -illustrious predecessors, and to carry the art of statuary as high in -the eyes of the most gallant court of Europe as those three great -masters had carried the art of painting. And so Benvenuto determined to -anticipate the king's wishes by not waiting for him to command the noble -work promised, and to execute it himself, of his own motion, and with -his own resources. He had readily discovered the king's affection for -the royal residence where he had met him, and determined to flatter his -preference by executing a statue to be called the "Nymph of -Fontainebleau." -</p> - -<p> -A lovely work to undertake was this statue, crowned at once with oak and -wheat-ears and vines; for Fontainebleau is partly field, partly forest, -and partly vineyard. The nymph of whom Benvenuto dreamed must therefore -be reminiscent of Ceres and Diana and Erigone,—three types of -marvellous beauty melted into one, and which, while retaining their -distinctive characteristics, should still form but a single whole. Then -there should be represented upon the pedestal the attributes of those -three goddesses; and they who have seen the fascinating figures about -the statue of Perseus know the Florentine master's method of executing -those marvellous details. -</p> - -<p> -But it was his misfortune that, although he had in his own mind his -ideal of beauty, he was sadly in need of a human model for the material -part of his work. Where was he to find this model, in whose single -person could be found the threefold beauty of three goddesses? -</p> - -<p> -Certain it is, that if, as in the olden days, the days of Apelles and -Phidias, the beauties of the day, those queens of loveliness, had come -of their own accord to pose for Benvenuto, he would have found what he -sought within the precincts of the court; for there was a whole Olympus -in the flower of youth and beauty. There were Catherine de Medicis, then -but one and twenty; Marguerite de Valois, Queen of Navarre, who was -called the Fourth Grace and the Tenth Muse; and lastly, Madame la -Duchesse d'Etampes, whom we shall meet frequently in the course of this -narrative, and who was known as the loveliest of blue-stockings and the -most learned of beauties. In this galaxy the artist could have found -more than he needed; but the days of Apelles and Phidias had long gone -by, and he must look elsewhere. -</p> - -<p> -It was with great pleasure, therefore, that he learned that the court -was about to set out for Paris. Unfortunately, as Benvenuto himself -says, the court in those days travelled like a funeral procession. -Preceded by twelve to fifteen thousand horse, halting for the night in -some place where there were no more than two or three houses, wasting -four hours every evening in pitching the tents, and four hours every -morning in striking them,—in this way, although the distance was but -sixteen leagues, five days were spent in the journey from Fontainebleau -to Paris. -</p> - -<p> -Twenty times on the way Benvenuto was tempted to push forward, but as -often the Cardinal of Ferrara dissuaded him, saying that, if the king -was compelled to pass a single day without seeing him, he would -certainly ask what had become of him, and when he learned that he had -left the procession would look upon his unceremonious departure as a -failure of respect toward himself. So Benvenuto chafed at his bit, and -tried to kill time during the long halt by sketching his nymph of -Fontainebleau. -</p> - -<p> -At last he arrived at Paris. His first visit was to Primaticcio, who was -commissioned to continue the work of Leonardo da Vinci and Rosso at -Fontainebleau. Primaticcio, who had lived long at Paris, should be able -at once to put him upon the path he was seeking, and to tell him where -to look for models. -</p> - -<p> -A word, in passing, as to Primaticcio. -</p> - -<p> -Il Signor Francesco Primaticcio, who was commonly called at this time Le -Bologna, from his birthplace, had studied under Jules Romain for six -years, and had lived eight years in France, whither François I. had -summoned him upon the advice of the Marquis of Mantua, his great -purveyor of artists. He was, as any one may see at Fontainebleau, a man -of prodigious fecundity, with a broad, florid manner, and irreproachable -regularity of outline. For a long time Primaticcio, with his -encyclopedic brain, his vast store of knowledge, and his boundless -talent, which embraced all varieties of painting,—for a long time, -we say, he was despised, but in our day he has been avenged for three -centuries of injustice. Under the inspiration of religious ardor, he -painted the pictures in the chapel of Beauregard; in moral subjects he -personified the principal Christian virtues at the Hôtel Montmorency; -and the immensity of Fontainebleau was filled to overflowing with his -works. At the Golden Gate and in the Salle du Bal he treated the most -graceful subjects of mythology and allegory; in the Gallery of Ulysses -and the Chamber of Saint Louis he was an epic poet with Homer, and -translated with his brush the Odyssey and a portion of the Iliad. Then -he passed from the Age of Fable to heroic times, and historical subjects -became his study. The principal incidents in the life of Alexander and -Romulus, and the surrender of Havre, were reproduced in the painting -with which he decorated the Grand Gallery and the apartment adjoining -the Salle du Bal. He turned his attention to the beauties of nature in -the great landscapes of the Cabinet of Curiosities. In short, if we care -to take the measurement of his eminent talent, to consider the various -forms in which it found expression, and to reckon up its work, we shall -find that in ninety-eight large pictures and a hundred and thirty -smaller ones he has treated, one after another, landscapes, marine -views, historical, allegorical, and religious subjects, portraits, and -the themes of epic poetry. -</p> - -<p> -He was, as may be seen, a man likely to appreciate Benvenuto; and so, as -soon as Benvenuto arrived at Paris, he ran to Primaticcio with open -arms, and was welcomed by him in the same temper. -</p> - -<p> -After the first serious conversation between the two friends meeting -thus in a foreign land, Benvenuto opened his portfolio, imparted all his -ideas to Primaticcio, showed him all his sketches, and asked him if -there was any one of the models he was accustomed to use who fulfilled -the necessary conditions. -</p> - -<p> -Primaticcio shook his head, smiling sadly. In truth, they were no longer -in Italy, the daughter of Greece and rival of her mother. France was in -those days, as it is to-day, the land of grace, and prettiness, and -coquetry; but in vain would one have sought in the domain of the Valois -that imperious loveliness which inspired the genius of Michel-Angelo and -Raphael, of John of Bologna and Andrea del Sarto, on the banks of the -Tiber and the Arno. To be sure, if the painter or sculptor had been at -liberty to choose a model at will among the aristocracy, he would soon -have found the types he sought; but like those shades which are detained -on this side of the Styx, he was perforce content to see those noble, -lovely forms, the constant objects of his artistic aspirations, pass -over into the Elysian Fields which he was forbidden to enter. -</p> - -<p> -It turned out as Primaticcio anticipated: Benvenuto passed in review his -whole army of models, and saw not one who seemed to combine all the -qualities essential for the work of which he was dreaming. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he caused all the Venuses at a crown the sitting whose names -were furnished him to be summoned to the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace, -where he was installed, but none of them fulfilled his expectations. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was almost at his wit's end when, one evening, as he was -returning home alone along Rue des Petits-Champs, after supping with three -compatriots whom he had met at Paris,—namely, Pietro Strozzi, the -Count of Anguillara, his brother-in-law, and Galeotto Pico, nephew of -the famous Pico della Mirandole,—he noticed a graceful, lovely girl -walking in front of him. Benvenuto fairly leaped for joy: the girl was, -of all whom he had thus far seen, by far the best qualified to give -shape to his dream. He followed her, therefore. She walked along by the -church of Saint-Honoré, and turned into Rue du Pelican; there she -looked around to see if she was still followed, and, seeing Benvenuto -within a few steps, hastily opened a door and disappeared. Benvenuto -went to the same door and opened it in time to see the skirt of the -young woman's dress disappear at a bend in the stairway, which was -lighted by a smoking lamp. -</p> - -<p> -He went up to the first floor: a chamber door stood ajar, and in the -chamber he discovered the girl he had followed. -</p> - -<p> -Without explaining the artistic motive of his intrusion, indeed, without -saying a word, Benvenuto, desirous to ascertain whether the outlines of -her body corresponded with those of her face, walked around and around -the poor, bewildered girl, as he might have done had she been a statue, -taking her arms and raising them above her head in the attitude which he -proposed that his Nymph of Fontainebleau should assume; and she obeyed -his gestures mechanically. -</p> - -<p> -There was little of Ceres in the model now before his eyes, and still -less of Diana, but very much of Erigone. The master thereupon made up -his mind, in view of the manifest impossibility of finding the three -types united in one person, to be satisfied with the Bacchante. But for -the Bacchante he had certainly found all that he desired,—sparkling -eyes, coral lips, teeth like pearls, graceful neck, well rounded -shoulders, and broad hips; and in the slender wrists and ankles, and the -long nails, there was a suggestion of aristocratic blood, which removed -the artist's last hesitation. -</p> - -<p> -"What is your name, mademoiselle?" Benvenuto, with his foreign accent, -at last asked the poor girl, whose wonder momentarily increased. -</p> - -<p> -"Catherine, monsieur, at your service," she replied. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! Here is a golden crown, Mademoiselle Catherine, for the -trouble I have caused you. Come to me to-morrow at the Cardinal of -Ferrara's hotel on Rue Saint-Martin, and I will give you as much more -for the same service." -</p> - -<p> -The girl hesitated an instant, thinking that he was making sport of her. -But the gold crown seemed to prove that he was speaking seriously, and -after a very brief pause, she said,— -</p> - -<p> -"At what time?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ten o'clock in the morning: does that suit your convenience?" -</p> - -<p> -"Perfectly." -</p> - -<p> -"So that I may rely upon you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I will come." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto saluted her as he would have saluted a duchess, and returned -home with a glad heart. He at once burned all his idealistic sketches, -and set to work upon one based upon flesh and blood. Having completed -the drawing, he placed a quantity of wax upon a pedestal, and beneath -his dexterous touch it instantly assumed the shape of the nymph of whom -he had dreamed; so that when Catherine appeared at the door of his -studio the next morning, a part of his task was already done. -</p> - -<p> -As we have said, Catherine utterly failed to understand Benvenuto's -motives. She was vastly astonished, therefore, when, having closed the -door behind her, he showed her the statue already begun, and explained -why he had asked her to come. -</p> - -<p> -Catherine was a light-hearted, joyous creature, and laughed heartily at -her mistake; her bosom swelled with pride at the thought of posing as a -model for a goddess to be presented to a king, so she removed her -clothing, and of her own motion assumed the pose indicated by the -statue,—so gracefully, and withal so exactly, that the artist, when -he turned and saw her posed so naturally and well, exclaimed in delight. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto at once set to work: his was, as we have said, one of those -noble, vigorous, artistic natures in which inspiration is aroused by the -work beneath their hands, and which seem to become illumined as their -work proceeds. He had thrown aside his doublet, and as he went back and -forth from the model to the copy, from nature to art, he seemed, with -his bare neck and arms, like Jupiter, ready to kindle everything that he -touched into flame. Catherine, accustomed to the commonplace or worn out -organization of the young men of the lower classes with whom she had -associated, or the young noblemen whose plaything she had been, gazed at -this man with the inspired glance, quickened respiration, and swelling -breast, with an unfamiliar sensation of wonder. She seemed herself to -rise to the master's level; her eyes shone, and the artist's inspiration -was communicated to the model. -</p> - -<p> -The sitting lasted two hours; at the end of that time Benvenuto gave -Catherine her gold crown, and took leave of her as ceremoniously as -before, making an appointment for the following day at the same hour. -</p> - -<p> -Catherine returned to her own room, and did not go out during the day. -The next morning she was at the studio ten minutes before the appointed -time. -</p> - -<p> -The same scene was repeated. On that day, as on the day before, -Benvenuto's inspiration rose to sublime heights; beneath his hand, as -beneath that of Prometheus, the clay seemed to breathe. The Bacchante's -head was already modelled, and seemed a living head set upon a shapeless -trunk. Catherine smiled upon this celestial sister, fashioned in her -image; she had never been so happy, and, strangely enough, she was -unable to explain the sentiment which caused her happiness. -</p> - -<p> -On the following day the master and the model met again at the same -hour; but Catherine was conscious of a sensation, absent on the -preceding days, which caused the blood to rush to her face as soon as -she began to disrobe. The poor child was beginning to love, and love -brought modesty in its train. -</p> - -<p> -On the fourth day it was still worse, and Benvenuto was compelled -several times to remind her that he was not modelling the Venus de -Medicis, but Erigone, drunken with debauchery and wine. Moreover, her -patience would be tried but a little longer; two days more, and the -model's services would be no longer required. -</p> - -<p> -In the afternoon of the second day, Benvenuto, having given the last -touch to his statue, thanked Catherine for her complaisance, and gave -her four gold crowns; but Catherine let them fall to the floor. The poor -child's dream was ended; from that moment she must return to her former -condition, and that condition had become hateful to her since the day -that she entered the master's studio. Benvenuto, who had no suspicion of -what was taking place in the girl's heart, picked up the four crowns, -handed them to her once more, pressing her hand as he did so, and said -to her that, if he ever could be of service to her, she must apply to no -one but him. Then he passed into the apartment where his apprentices -were at work, seeking Ascanio, to whom he wished to exhibit his -completed statue. -</p> - -<p> -Catherine kissed the tools the master had used, one after another, and -went away, weeping. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning Catherine appeared at the studio while Benvenuto was -alone, and when he, astonished to see her again, asked her why she had -come, she knelt at his feet and asked him if he did not need a servant. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto had an artist's heart, quick to detect feeling in another. He -divined what was taking place in the poor child's heart, and raised her -from the floor, kissing her upon the forehead as he did so. -</p> - -<p> -From that moment Catherine was a part of the studio, which, as we have -said, she brightened and made cheerful with her childish ways, and -enlivened by her unceasing activity. She had become almost indispensable -to everybody, above all to Benvenuto. She it was who superintended and -managed everything, scolding and caressing Ruperta, who was dismayed at -her first appearance in the household, but ended by loving her as -everybody else did. -</p> - -<p> -The Erigone lost nothing by this arrangement. Having the model always at -hand, Benvenuto had retouched and perfected it with greater care than he -had ever before bestowed upon one of his statues, and had then carried -it to François I., whose admiration knew no bounds, and who ordered him -to execute it in silver. He subsequently conversed for a long time with -the goldsmith, asked him if he was pleased with his studio, where it was -situated, and whether there were beautiful things to be seen there; and -when he dismissed him, he determined in his own mind to take him by -surprise some morning, but said nothing to him of his intention. -</p> - -<p> -Thus did matters stand when this history opens,—Benvenuto working, -Catherine singing, Ascanio dreaming, and Pagolo praying. -</p> - -<p> -On the day following that on which Ascanio returned home so late, thanks -to his excursion in the neighborhood of the Hôtel de Nesle, there was a -loud knocking at the street door. Dame Ruperta at once rose to answer -the summons, but Scozzone (the reader will remember that this was the -name given to Catherine by Benvenuto) was already out of the room. -</p> - -<p> -A moment later they heard her voice, half joyous, half terrified, -crying,— -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! master! mon Dieu! it is the king! The king in person has -come to see your studio!" -</p> - -<p> -And poor Scozzone, leaving all the doors open behind her, reappeared, -pale and trembling, on the threshold of the workshop, where Benvenuto -was at work, surrounded by his pupils and apprentices. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap05"></a></h4> - -<h4>V -<br /><br /> -GENIUS AND ROYALTY</h4> - -<p> -In very truth, François I. was entering the courtyard with all his -retinue. He led by the hand the Duchesse d'Etampes. The King of Navarre -followed with the Dauphine, Catherine de Medicis. The Dauphin, -afterwards Henri II., came next, with his aunt, Marguerite de Valois, -Queen of Navarre. Almost all the nobility accompanied them. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto went to meet them, without confusion or embarrassment, and -welcomed the king, princes, great lords, and beautiful women as a friend -welcomes friends. And yet there were in the throng the most illustrious -names of France, and the most resplendent beauties in the world. -Marguerite charmed, Madame d'Etampes entranced, Catherine de Medicis -astonished, Diane de Poitiers dazzled. But Benvenuto was familiar with -the purest types of antiquity and of the sixteenth century in Italy, -even as the beloved pupil of Michel-Angelo was accustomed to the society -of kings. -</p> - -<p> -"You must needs permit us, madame, to admire by your side the marvels we -are to behold," said François I. to the Duchesse d'Etampes, who replied -with a smile. -</p> - -<p> -Anne de Pisseleu, Duchesse d'Etampes, who since the king's return from -his captivity in Spain had succeeded the Comtesse de Châteaubriand in -his favor, was at this time in all the splendor of a truly royal -loveliness. Her figure was erect and graceful, and she carried her -charming head with a dignity and feline grace which recalled at once the -cat and panther, which she also resembled in her habit of pouncing upon -one unexpectedly, and in her murderous appetites. With all this the -royal courtesan was very clever at assuming an air of sincerity and -candor which would disarm the most suspicious. Nothing could be more -mobile or more treacherous than the features of this pale-lipped woman, -to-day Hermione, to-morrow Galatea, with her smile, sometimes cajoling, -sometimes terrible,—her glance, at one moment caressing and -suggestive, and the next flaming with wrath. She had a habit of raising -her eyelids so slowly that one could never tell whether they would -disclose a languorous or a threatening expression. Haughty and -imperious, she subjugated François I. by holding his passions -enthralled; proud and jealous, she insisted that he should call upon the -Comtesse de Châteaubriand to return the jewels he had given her; by -returning them in the form of bullion, the lovely and melancholy -countess did at least protest against the profanation. Supple and -deceitful, she had closed her eyes more than once when the king's -capricious fancy seemed to distinguish some charming young woman at -court, whom, however, he invariably abandoned very soon to return to his -beautiful enchantress. -</p> - -<p> -"I was in haste to see you, Benvenuto, for two months have now passed -since your coming to our realm, and vexatious affairs of state have -since that time forbade my turning my thoughts to things artistic. -Impute it to my brother and cousin, the Emperor, who gives me not a -moment of repose." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="figure03"></a> -<img src="images/figure03.jpg" width="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"If it is your will, Sire, I will write to him, and pray that he will -give you time to be a great friend to art, since you have proved to him -ere this that you are a mighty captain." -</p> - -<p> -"Pray, do you know Charles V.?" inquired the King of Navarre. -</p> - -<p> -"Four years since, Sire, I had the honor, being then at Rome, to present -a missal of my making to his sacred Majesty, and make a speech to him -which seemed to touch him nearly." -</p> - -<p> -"What said his sacred Majesty to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"He said that he already knew me from having seen upon the Pope's cope, -three years before, a carved stud, which did me honor." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! I see that you are spoiled for royal compliments," said François -I. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, 't is true that I have had the fortune to please many cardinals, -grand dukes, princes, and kings." -</p> - -<p> -"Prithee, show me your beautiful designs, that I may see if I shall not -be a harder judge to please than others." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, I have had very little time; however, here are a vase and silver -basin which I have commenced, and which are perhaps not too unworthy of -your Majesty's attention." -</p> - -<p> -The king examined the two works of art for five minutes without a word. -It seemed that the handiwork made him forget the workman. At last, as -the ladies gathered curiously about him, he spoke. -</p> - -<p> -"See, mesdames," he cried, "what marvellous workmanship! Observe the -hold and novel shape of this vase! What ingenuity and marvellous -modelling in the bas-reliefs and bosses, mon Dieu! Especially do I -admire the beauty of the lines; and see how true to life and how diverse -are the attitudes of the figures! Look at the one holding her arms over -her head; the fugitive gesture is so naturally seized that one wonders -that she doesn't continue the movement. In very truth, I believe that -the ancients never did anything so fine. I remember the best works of -antiquity, and those of the most eminent artists of Italy; but nothing -ever made so deep an impression upon me as this. O Madame de Navarre, I -pray you look at this pretty child lost among the flowers, and waving -her little foot in the air; how graceful and pretty and instinct with -life it all is!" -</p> - -<p> -"Others have complimented me, great king," cried Benvenuto, "but you -understand me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Have you aught else!" asked the king, greedily. -</p> - -<p> -"Here is a medallion representing Leda and her swan, made for Cardinal -Gabriel Cesarini; and here a seal cut in intaglio, representing Saint -John and Saint Ambrose; this is a reliquary, enamelled by myself—" -</p> - -<p> -"Do you strike medals?" interposed Madame d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p> -"As Cavadone of Milan did, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"And you work in enamel?" said Marguerite. -</p> - -<p> -"Like Amerigo of Florence." -</p> - -<p> -"And you engrave seals?" inquired Catherine. -</p> - -<p> -"Like Lantizco of Perouse. Pray, did you think, madame, that my talent -is confined to the production of tiny golden toys and great silver -pieces? I can do a little of everything, God be praised! I am a passable -military engineer, and I have twice prevented the capture of Rome. I can -turn a sonnet prettily, and your Majesty has but to order me to compose -a poem, provided that it be in praise of yourself, and I will undertake -to execute it neither better nor worse than if my name were Clement -Marot. As to music, which my father taught me with a stick, I found the -method an admirable one, and I am so good a performer on the flute and -cornet that Clement VII. employed me among his musicians at the age of -twenty-four. Furthermore, I discovered the secret of compounding an -excellent powder, and I can also make beautiful carbines and surgical -instruments. If your Majesty is at war, and chooses to employ me as -man-at-arms, you will find that I am not to be despised in that -capacity, and that I know as well how to handle an arquebus as to sight -a culverin. As a hunter I have brought down my twenty-five peacocks in a -day, and as an artillerist I have freed the Emperor from the Prince of -Orange, and your Majesty from the Connétable de Bourbon: traitors seem -not to be fortunate when they encounter me." -</p> - -<p> -"Of which exploit are you the prouder," the young Dauphin interrupted, -"of having killed the constable or the twenty-five peacocks?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am proud of neither, monseigneur. Like all other gifts, address is -God-given, and I simply used my address." -</p> - -<p> -"By my faith, I was ignorant that you had already rendered me so great a -service," said the king,—"a service which, however, my sister -Marguerite will be at great pains to pardon you. Was it indeed you who -slew the Connétable de Bourbon? Prithee, how came it to pass?" -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! it was the simplest thing in the world. The constable's army -had arrived unexpectedly before Rome, and a vigorous assault upon the -fortifications was in progress. I sallied forth, with a few friends, to -watch the fighting. As I left my house, I instinctively put my arquebus -over my shoulder. When we reached the walls of the city, I saw that -there was nothing to be done; but, I said to myself, it shall not be -said that I came hither to so little purpose. So I aimed my arquebus -toward the point where I saw a numerous and compact group of soldiers, -and singled out one who stood a head taller than his companions. He -fell, and a great uproar at once arose, caused by the shot I had fired. -I had, in truth, slain Bourbon. I learned afterward that it was he who -towered above his companions." -</p> - -<p> -While Benvenuto was relating this incident with a most indifferent air, -the circle of lords and ladies of which he was the centre spread out -somewhat, and they all gazed with respect, and almost with terror, at -this unconscious hero. François I. alone remained at his side. -</p> - -<p> -"And so, my dear fellow," he said, "I see that you loaned me your -gallantry before consecrating your genius to me." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," Benvenuto rejoined with a smile, "I believe, in good sooth, that -I was born to be your servitor. An incident of my early youth has always -seemed to me to admit of no other interpretation. Your crest is a -salamander, is it not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, with this device: <i>Nutrisco et extinguo</i>." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! When I was about five years old, I was sitting one day with -my father in a small room where they had been scalding the lye, and -where a rousing fire of young oak was still burning. It was very cold. -Happening to glance at the fire, I espied a tiny creature like a lizard -diverting itself in the spot where the heat was most intense. I pointed -it out to my father, and my father—pray pardon me this detail of a -somewhat brutal custom of my country—struck me a violent blow, and -said to me, with great gentleness, 'I do not strike thee because thou -hast done wrong, dear child, but so that thou mayst remember that the -little lizard thou hast seen in the fire is a salamander. No human being -has ever seen that animal save thou.' Was not that a premonition of -fate, Sire? Indeed, I think I was predestined to do as I have done, for -at the age of twenty I was about to set out for England, when the -sculptor Pietro Torregiano, who was to take me thither, told me that in -his youth he one day struck our Michel-Angelo in the face, on the -occasion of some studio quarrel. Ah! I abandoned all thought of the -journey then; not for a prince's title would I have travelled with one -who had raised his hand against my great sculptor. I remained in Italy, -and from Italy, instead of going to England, I came to France." -</p> - -<p> -"France, proud of your choice, Benvenuto, will see to it that you do not -sigh for your fatherland." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! my fatherland is art, and my prince he who commands the richest cup -at my hands." -</p> - -<p> -"Have you any beautiful work now in contemplation, Cellini?" -</p> - -<p> -"O yes, Sire,—a Christ. Not a Christ upon the Cross, but Christ in -His radiance and glory; and I shall copy as closely as possible the -infinite beauty of the guise in which he revealed himself to me." -</p> - -<p> -"What!" laughed Marguerite, the sceptic; "in addition to all the kings -of earth, have you seen the King of Heaven, too?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, madame," replied Benvenuto, with childlike simplicity. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! pray tell us of that," said the Queen of Navarre. -</p> - -<p> -"Willingly, madame," said Benvenuto, with a confident air, which implied -that it did not occur to him that any one could doubt any part of his -story. -</p> - -<p> -"Some time before," he continued, "I had seen Satan and all his legions, -whom a necromancing friend of mine, a priest, evoked for me at the -Coliseum. Indeed, we had much ado to rid ourselves of them. But the -dread souvenir of those infernal apparitions was forever banished from -my mind when, in answer to my fervent prayer, the blessed Saviour of -mankind appeared to me, in a flood of sunlight, crowned with glory, and -brought sweet consolation to me in the misery of my captivity." -</p> - -<p> -"And are you sure beyond a peradventure," demanded the Queen of Navarre, -"so sure that you have no shadow of doubt, that Christ really appeared -to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have no doubt of it, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case, Benvenuto, go on and fashion a Christ for our chapel," -said François I., with his usual good humor. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, if your Majesty will so far indulge me, I pray you to order -something different, and allow me to postpone the execution of that -work." -</p> - -<p> -"Why so?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because I promised God to undertake it for no other sovereign than -Him." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>À la bonne heure!</i> Be it so! Benvenuto, I need twelve candlesticks -for my table." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! that is a different matter; and therein, Sire, you shall be obeyed." -</p> - -<p> -"It is my wish that they should take the form' of twelve silver -statues." -</p> - -<p> -"The effect will be magnificent, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"They must represent six gods and six goddesses, and be of my own -height." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, your order is for a whole epic poem," said the Duchesse d'Etampes; -"for a work of marvellous, surprising splendor, is it not, Monsieur -Benvenuto?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am never surprised, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"I should be greatly surprised, my self," retorted the duchess, somewhat -piqued, "if other sculptors than those of the olden time could carry -such a task to completion." -</p> - -<p> -"I hope, nevertheless, to execute it as satisfactorily as they could -have done," rejoined Benvenuto, coolly. -</p> - -<p> -"Oho! are you not inclined to boast a little, Monsieur Benvenuto?" -</p> - -<p> -"I never boast, madame." -</p> - -<p> -As he made this reply with perfect calmness, Cellini looked at Madame -d'Etampes, and the haughty duchess lowered her eyes, in spite of -herself, under that firm, assured glance, in which there was no trace of -irritation. Her resentment was aroused by the consciousness of his -superiority, to which she yielded even while resisting it, and without -knowing in what it consisted. She had thought hitherto that beauty was -the greatest power in the world; she had forgotten genius. -</p> - -<p> -"What treasure," said she, with a bitter sneer, "would suffice to -recompense such talent as yours?" -</p> - -<p> -"None that I can command, i' faith," rejoined François I., "and -apropos, Benvenuto, I remember that you have as yet received but five -hundred crowns. Will you be content with the stipend which I allowed my -painter, Leonardo da Vinci, seven hundred gold crowns yearly? I will pay -over and above that for all works which you may execute for me." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, your offer is worthy such a king as François I., and—I venture -to say it—of such an artist as Cellini. And yet I shall make so bold -as to prefer a request to your Majesty." -</p> - -<p> -"It is granted in advance, Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, I am but ill and narrowly accommodated in this edifice. One of my -pupils has discovered a location much more favorably situated than this -for the execution of such great works as my king may choose to command. -The property in question belongs to your Majesty; it is the Grand-Nesle. -It is at the disposal of the Provost of Paris, but he does not dwell -therein; he occupies only the Petit-Nesle, which I will gladly leave in -his possession." -</p> - -<p> -"So be it, Benvenuto," said François; "take up your abode at the -Grand-Nesle, and I shall have only to cross the river to talk with you -and admire your masterpieces." -</p> - -<p> -"Consider, Sire," interposed Madame d'Etampes, "that you thereby, for no -motive, deprive a nobleman, and one devoted to my service, of property -appertaining to his office." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto glanced at her, and for the second time Anne lowered her eyes -beneath that steady, piercing gaze. Cellini rejoined, with the same -naïve good faith with which he had described the supernatural -apparitions:— -</p> - -<p> -"I, too, am of noble birth, madame; my family descends from a gallant -officer, who held high rank under Julius Cæsar,—one Fiorino, of -Cellino, near Montefiascone,—and who gave his name to Florence; while -your provost and his ancestors, if my memory serves me, have never given -their name to anything. However," continued Benvenuto, turning to -François, and changing his expression and his tone, "it may be that I -have made too hold it may be that I shall incur the hatred of powerful -and influential persons, who, despite your Majesty's protection, may -prove too strong for me at last. The Provost of Paris is said to have -something very like an army at his orders." -</p> - -<p> -"I have been told," the king interrupted, "that on a certain day, at -Rome, one Cellini, a goldsmith, retained, in default of payment -therefor, a silver vase ordered by Monsieur Farnese, then cardinal, and -to-day Pope." -</p> - -<p> -"It is true, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"Furthermore, that the cardinal's whole household stormed the -goldsmith's studio, sword in hand, with the design of carrying away the -vase by force." -</p> - -<p> -"That, too, is true." -</p> - -<p> -"But this Cellini, in ambush behind the door, armed with his carbine, -did defend himself so valorously that he put Monseigneur le Cardinal's -people to flight; and was paid by the cardinal on the following day." -</p> - -<p> -"All that, Sire, is strictly true." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! are not you the Cellini in question?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire; let your Majesty but continue to bestow your favor upon me -and nothing has any power to terrify me." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case, go straight before you," said the king, smiling in his -beard; "go where you will, since you are of noble blood." -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes said no more, but she registered a mental vow of deadly -hatred to Cellini from that moment,—the hatred of an offended woman. -</p> - -<p> -"One last favor, Sire," said Cellini. "I cannot present all my workmen -to you; they are ten in number, some French, some German, all worthy, -talented comrades. But here are my two pupils whom I brought from Italy -with me, Pagolo and Ascanio. Come forward, Pagolo, and raise your head -and your eyes a little; not impertinently, but like an honest man who -has no evil action to blush for. This good fellow lacks inventive genius -perhaps, Sire, and is slightly lacking in earnestness, too; but he is a -careful, conscientious artist, who works slowly, but well, who -comprehends my ideas perfectly, and executes them faithfully. And this -is Ascanio, my noble-hearted, amiable pupil, and my beloved child. It is -doubtless true that he has not the vigorous creative faculty which will -represent in a bas-relief the serried ranks of two hostile armies -meeting in deadly encounter, and tearing each other to pieces, or lions -and tigers clinging with claws and teeth to the edge of a vase. Nor has -he the original fancy which invents horrible chimeras and impossible -dragons. No; but his soul, which resembles his body, has the instinct of -a divine ideal, so to speak. Ask him to design an angel, or a group of -nymphs, and no one can equal the exquisite poesy and grace of his work. -With Pagolo I have four arms, with Ascanio I have two souls; and then he -loves me, and I am very happy to have always by my side a pure and -devoted heart like his." -</p> - -<p> -While his master was speaking, Ascanio stood near him, modestly, but -without embarrassment, in an attitude of unstudied grace, and Madame -d'Etampes could not remove her eyes from the fascinating young Italian, -black-eyed and black-haired, who seemed a living copy of Apollino. -</p> - -<p> -"If Ascanio," said she, "understands grace and beauty so well, and if he -cares to come some morning to the Hôtel d'Etampes, I will furnish him -with precious stones and gold, with which he may cause some marvellous -flower to bloom for me." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio bowed and thanked her with a glance. -</p> - -<p> -"And I," said the king, "grant to him, as well as to Pagolo, a yearly -pension of one hundred crowns." -</p> - -<p> -"I undertake to make them earn their pension, Sire," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"But who is the lovely child with the long eyelashes, hiding yonder in -the corner?" said François, spying Scozzone for the first time. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, pay no attention to her, Sire," replied Benvenuto, with a frown; -"she is the only one of the beautiful things in this studio whom I like -not to have noticed." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! you are jealous, my Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! Sire, I like not that any hand should be laid upon my -property; to compare small things with great, it is as if some other -should dare to think of Madame d'Etampes; you would be furious, Sire. -Scozzone is my duchess." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess, who was gazing at Ascanio, bit her lips at this -unceremonious interruption. Many courtiers smiled in spite of -themselves, and all the ladies giggled. As for the king, he laughed -outright. -</p> - -<p> -"Foi de gentilhomme! your jealousy is within its right, Benvenuto, and -an artist and a king may well understand each other. Adieu, my friend: I -commend my statues to your attention. You will commence with Jupiter, -naturally, and when you have finished the model you will show it to me. -Adieu, and good luck! We will meet at the Hôtel de Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"To bid me show you the model is a simple matter, Sire; but how shall I -gain entrance to the Louvre?" -</p> - -<p> -"Your name will be given at the gates, with orders to introduce you to -my presence." -</p> - -<p> -Cellini bowed, and with Pagolo and Ascanio, escorted the king and court -to the street. At the door he knelt and kissed the king's hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," he said with deep feeling, "you have heretofore saved me from -captivity, perhaps from death, through the intervention of Monseigneur -de Montluc; you have overwhelmed me with wealth, you have honored my -poor studio with your presence; but far more than all this, Sire, is the -fact, and I know not how to thank you that it is so, that you so -magnificently anticipate all my dreams. We ordinarily work only for a -chosen few scattered through the centuries, but I shall have, had the -signal honor of finding a living judge, always present, always -enlightened. Until now I have been only the workman of the future; -permit me henceforth to call myself your Majesty's goldsmith." -</p> - -<p> -"My workman, my goldsmith, my artist, and my friend, Benvenuto, if the -last title seems to you no more deserving of contempt than the others. -Adieu, or rather, <i>au revoir</i>." -</p> - -<p> -It is needless to say that all the princes and nobles followed the -example set by the king, and loaded Cellini with flattery and offers of -friendship. -</p> - -<p> -When all were gone, and Benvenuto was left alone in the courtyard with -his pupils, they thanked him, Ascanio effusively, Pagolo with something -very like constraint. -</p> - -<p> -"Nay, do not thank me, my children, it's not worth while. But look you, -if you do in truth consider yourselves under any obligation to me, I -wish, since this subject of conversation was introduced to-day, to ask a -service at your hands; it relates to something which I have very much at -heart. You heard what I said to the king apropos of Catherine, and what -I said to him truly expressed the deepest feeling of my heart. The child -is necessary to my life, my friends; to my life as an artist, because, -as you know, her services as a model are offered so freely and joyously; -to my life as a man, because I think that she loves me. I pray you, -therefore, although she is beautiful, and although you are young, as she -also is, do not let your thoughts rest upon Catherine; there are enough -other lovely girls in the world. Do not tear my heart, do not insult my -affection by casting bold glances upon my Scozzone; nay, rather watch -over her in my absence, and advise her as if you were her brothers. I -conjure you, observe my wishes herein, for I know myself and my feeling -in this matter, and I swear before God, that if I should discover aught -amiss, I would kill her and her accomplice." -</p> - -<p> -"Master," said Ascanio, "I respect you as my master, and I love you as -my father; have no fear." -</p> - -<p> -"Blessed Jesus!" cried Pagolo, clasping his hands, "may God preserve me -from thinking of such an infamous action! Do I not know that I owe -everything to you, and would it not be a crime thus to abuse your sacred -confidence in me, and to repay your benefactions by such dastardly -treachery?" -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, my friends," said Benvenuto, pressing their hands. "I have -perfect faith in you, and I am content. Now, Pagolo, return to your -work, for I have promised the seal at which you are working to M. de -Villeroi for to-morrow; while Ascanio and myself pay a visit to the -estate which our gracious king has bestowed upon us, and of which we -will take possession on Sunday next, peaceably or by force." -</p> - -<p> -Then he turned to Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, Ascanio," said he, "let us go and see if this Nesle habitation, -which seemed to you so eligible in its external aspect, has internal -appointments corresponding to its reputation." -</p> - -<p> -Before Ascanio had time to offer any observation, Benvenuto, with a -parting glance over the studio to see if every workman was in his place, -and a light tap upon Scozzone's plump, rosy cheek, passed his arm -through his pupil's, drew him toward the door, and went out with him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap06"></a></h4> - -<h4>VI -<br /><br /> -TO WHAT USE A DUENNA MAY BE PUT</h4> - -<p> -They had taken hardly ten steps in the street, when they met a man of -some fifty years, rather short of stature, but with a handsome, mobile -countenance. -</p> - -<p> -"I was about to call upon you, Benvenuto," said the new arrival, whom -Ascanio saluted with respect, mingled with veneration, and whose hand -Benvenuto cordially grasped. -</p> - -<p> -"Is your business of importance, my dear Francesco?" said the goldsmith. -"In that case, I will return with you; or was it for no other purpose -than a friendly call? In that case, come with us." -</p> - -<p> -"It was to proffer you some friendly advice, Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"I will gladly listen. Advice is always a good thing to receive when it -is proffered by a friend." -</p> - -<p> -"But that which I have to give you is for no other ear than yours." -</p> - -<p> -"This youth is another myself, Francesco; say on." -</p> - -<p> -"I would already have done so, had I thought that I ought to do it," -replied Benvenuto's friend. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon, master," said Ascanio, discreetly moving apart. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well; go alone whither I purposed going with you, dear boy," said -Benvenuto; "as you know, when you have seen a thing it is as if I had -myself seen it. Look most carefully into every detail: see if the studio -will have a good light, if the courtyard will be a convenient place for -a furnace, and if it will be possible to separate our workshop from that -of the other apprentices. Do not forget the tennis-court." -</p> - -<p> -With that Benvenuto passed his arm through the stranger's, waved his -hand to Ascanio, and returned to the studio, leaving the young man -standing in the middle of Rue Saint-Martin. -</p> - -<p> -In very truth there was in the commission intrusted to him by his master -more than enough to embarrass Ascanio. His embarrassment was by no means -slight, even when Benvenuto proposed that they should make the visit of -inspection in company. Judge, then, what it became when he found himself -confronted with the prospect of making it all alone. He had watched -Colombe two Sundays without daring to follow her, had followed her on -the third without daring to accost her, and now he was to present -himself at her home; and for what purpose? To examine the Hôtel de -Nesle, which Benvenuto proposed, by way of pastime, to take from -Colombe's father on the following Sunday, willy-nilly. -</p> - -<p> -It was a false position for anybody; it was terrible for a lover. -</p> - -<p> -Fortunately it was a long distance from Rue Saint-Martin to the Hôtel -de Nesle. Had it been only a step or two, Ascanio would not have taken -them; but it was a half-league, so he started. -</p> - -<p> -Nothing so familiarizes one with danger as to be separated from it by a -considerable time or distance. To all strong minds and happy -dispositions, reflection is a powerful auxiliary. Ascanio belonged to -the latter class. In those days it was not fashionable to be disgusted -with life before one had fairly entered upon it. All the impulses were -ingenuous and ingenuously expressed,—joy by laughter, sorrow by -tears. Affectation was a thing almost unknown, in life as in art, and a -comely youth of twenty was in no wise ashamed in those days to confess -that he was happy. -</p> - -<p> -But in all Ascanio's embarrassment there was a certain amount of joy. He -had not expected to see Colombe again until the following Sunday, and he -was to see her that very day. Thus he had gained six days, and six days -of waiting are, as everybody knows, six centuries according to a lover's -reckoning. -</p> - -<p> -And so, as he approached his destination, the affair became more simple -in his eyes. He it was, to be sure, who had advised Benvenuto to ask the -king for the Hôtel de Nesle for his studio, but could Colombe take it -ill of him that he had desired to be near her? This installation of the -Florentine goldsmith in the old palace of Amaury could not, it was true, -be carried out without interference with Colombe's father, who looked -upon it as his own; but would any real injury be inflicted upon Messire -Robert d'Estourville when he did not occupy it? Moreover, there were a -thousand ways in which Benvenuto could pay for his occupancy;—a -chased cup for the provost, a necklace for his daughter (and Ascanio would -undertake to make the necklace), might, and undoubtedly would, in that -artistic age, make the rough places smooth. Ascanio had seen grand -dukes, kings, and popes ready to give their coronets, sceptres, or -tiaras as the price of one of the marvellous examples of his master's -art. After all, then, supposing that matters should take that course, -Messire Robert would eventually be in Master Benvenuto's debt; for -Master Benvenuto was so generous that, if Messire Robert showed a -disposition to be courteous and compliant, Ascanio was certain that he, -Master Benvenuto, would deal right royally with him. -</p> - -<p> -By the time he reached the end of Rue Saint-Martin, Ascanio looked upon -himself as a messenger of peace, chosen by the Lord to maintain -harmonious relations between two powers. -</p> - -<p> -And yet, notwithstanding that conviction, Ascanio was not -sorry—surely lovers are strange creatures—to lengthen his -journey by ten minutes, and instead of crossing the Seine by boat, he -walked the whole length of the quays, and crossed by the Pont aux -Moulins. It may be that he chose that road because it was the same he -had taken the evening before when following Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -Whatever his motive for making the detour, he finally found himself in -front of the Hôtel de Nesle in about twenty minutes. -</p> - -<p> -But when he saw the little ogive door that he must pass through, when he -saw the turrets of the lovely little Gothic palace boldly raising their -heads above the wall, when he thought that behind those jalousies, half -closed because of the heat, was his beautiful Colombe, the whole -card-house of happy dreams which he had built on the road vanished like -the structures one sees in the clouds, and which the wind overturns with -one blow of its wing; he found himself face to face with reality, and -reality did not seem to him the most reassuring thing in the world. -</p> - -<p> -However, after a few moments of hesitation—hesitation which is the -harder to understand, in that he was absolutely alone upon the quay in -the intense heat—he realized that he must make up his mind to do -something. As there was nothing for him to do but find his way into the -hotel, he walked to the door and raised the knocker. But God only knows -when he would have let it fall, had not the door chanced to open at that -moment, bringing him face to face with a sort of Master Jacques, a man -about thirty years of age, half servant, half peasant. It was Messire -Robert d'Estourville's gardener. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio and the gardener mutually recoiled a step. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you want?" said the gardener; "whom do you seek?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, thus compelled to go forward with his mission, summoned all his -courage, and replied bravely:— -</p> - -<p> -"I desire to inspect the hotel." -</p> - -<p> -"To inspect the hotel!" cried the gardener in amazement; "in whose -name?" -</p> - -<p> -"In the king's name!" Ascanio replied. -</p> - -<p> -"In the king's name!" cried the gardener. "Jesus-Dieu! does the king -intend to take it from us?" -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps so!" -</p> - -<p> -"But what does it mean?" -</p> - -<p> -"Pray understand, my friend," said Ascanio, with a self-possession upon -which he mentally congratulated himself, "that I have no explanation to -give you." -</p> - -<p> -"True. With whom do you desire to speak?" -</p> - -<p> -"Is Monsieur le Prévôt within?" inquired Ascanio, knowing perfectly -well that he was not. -</p> - -<p> -"No, Monsieur; he is at the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed! Who takes his place in his absence?" -</p> - -<p> -"His daughter is here; Mademoiselle Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio felt that he was blushing to his ears. -</p> - -<p> -"And there is Dame Perrine, too," the gardener continued. "Does Monsieur -desire to speak with Dame Perrine or with Mademoiselle Colombe?" -</p> - -<p> -This was a very simple question, surely, and yet it caused a terrible -conflict in Ascanio's mind. He opened his mouth to say that he wished to -see Mademoiselle Colombe, and yet it was as if the audacious words -refused to pass his lips, and he asked for Dame Perrine. The gardener, -who had no suspicion that his question, which seemed so simple to him, -had caused such a disturbance, bowed in token of obedience, and went -across the courtyard toward the door of the Petit-Nesle. Ascanio -followed him. -</p> - -<p> -He had to cross a second courtyard, pass through a second door, then -cross a small flower garden, ascend a flight of steps, and traverse a -long gallery. At the end of the gallery the gardener opened the door and -said:— -</p> - -<p> -"Dame Perrine, here is a young gentleman, who asks to inspect the hotel, -in the king's name." -</p> - -<p> -With that he stood aside and made room for Ascanio, who took his place -in the doorway. -</p> - -<p> -As he glanced into the room, a cloud passed before his eyes, and he -leaned against the door frame for support. A very simple, and yet -entirely unforeseen thing had happened; Dame Perrine was with Colombe, -and he found himself in the presence of both. -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine was sitting at the spinning-wheel, spinning. Colombe was at -work at her embroidery frame. They raised their heads at the same -instant and looked toward the door. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe instantly recognized Ascanio. She expected him, although her -reason told her that he was not likely to come. As for him, when he saw -the maiden's eyes raised to his face, although their expression was -infinitely soft and sweet, it seemed to him that he was dying. -</p> - -<p> -The fact is, that he had anticipated a thousand difficulties, had -dreamed of a thousand obstacles to be surmounted before he could win his -way to his beloved. Those obstacles would have aroused all his energy -and strengthened his resolution; and lo! everything came about as -naturally and simply as if God, touched by the purity of his passion, -had smiled upon it and blessed it from the first. He found himself in -her presence when he was least expecting it, and of all the beautiful -speech he had prepared, the fervent eloquence of which was to amaze and -move her, he could not recall a phrase, a word, a syllable. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, for her part, sat motionless and dumb. The two pure-souled -young creatures, who, as if they had been already joined in wedlock in -heaven, felt that they belonged to one another, and who, when once their -lives had brought them close together, would thenceforth form, like -Salmacis and Hermaphrodite, but one existence, were terrified at their -first meeting, trembled, hesitated, and stood face to face unable to -find words. -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine, half rising from her chair, and preparing to put aside her -spinning, was the first to break the silence. -</p> - -<p> -"What did that blockhead Raimbault say?" cried the worthy duenna. "Did -you hear, Colombe?" As Colombe did not reply, she continued, walking -toward Ascanio: "What is your pleasure here, my young master? Why, God -forgive me!" she suddenly exclaimed, as she recognized the visitor, -"it's the gallant youth who so politely handed me the holy water at the -church door these last three Sundays! What is your pleasure, my handsome -friend?" -</p> - -<p> -"I would be glad to speak with you," faltered Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"With me alone?" queried Dame Perrine coquettishly. -</p> - -<p> -"With you—alone—" -</p> - -<p> -As he made this reply Ascanio told himself that he was a consummate ass. -</p> - -<p> -"Come this way, then, young man," said Dame Perrine, opening a door at -the side of the room, and signing to Ascanio to follow her. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio did as she bade him, but as he left the room he cast upon -Colombe one of those long, eloquent glances wherein lovers can say so -much, and which, however unintelligible they may be to indifferent -observers, are always understood at last by the person to whom they are -addressed. Colombe undoubtedly lost no portion of its meaning, for her -eyes, how she knew not, having met the youth's, she blushed -prodigiously, and when she felt that she was blushing, she cast her eyes -down upon her embroidery, and began to mangle a poor inoffensive flower. -Ascanio saw the blush, and, stopping abruptly, stepped toward Colombe; -but at that moment Dame Perrine turned and called him, and he was -compelled to follow her. -</p> - -<p> -He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the door than Colombe dropped -her needle, let her arms fall beside her chair, threw back her head, and -breathed a long sigh, in which were mingled, by one of those -inexplicable miracles which the heart alone can perform, regret at -Ascanio's departure, and a sort of relief to feel that he was no longer -there. -</p> - -<p> -The young man was very perceptibly in a bad humor; with Benvenuto, who -had given him such a strange commission to fulfil; with himself, for his -inability to take advantage of his opportunity; but most of all with -Dame Perrine, who was cruel enough to make him leave the room just when -Colombe's eyes seemed to bid him remain. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that, when the duenna inquired as to the purpose of his visit, -Ascanio replied in a most deliberate manner, determined to be revenged -upon her for his own bungling:— -</p> - -<p> -"The purpose of my visit, my dear Madame, is to beg you to show me the -Hôtel de Nesle from one end to the other." -</p> - -<p> -"Show you the Hôtel de Nesle!" cried Dame Perrine; "why, in Heaven's -name, do you desire to see it?" -</p> - -<p> -"To see if it will be convenient for us, if we shall be comfortable -here, and if it is worth while for us to leave our present quarters to -come and live here." -</p> - -<p> -"What! come and live here! Pray have you hired the hotel of Monsieur le -Prévôt?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, but his Majesty gives it to us." -</p> - -<p> -"His Majesty gives it to you!" exclaimed Dame Perrine, more and more -amazed. -</p> - -<p> -"Absolutely," replied Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"To you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not precisely, my good woman, but to my master." -</p> - -<p> -"And who is your master, if I may ask, young man? Some great foreign -nobleman, no doubt?" -</p> - -<p> -"Better than that, Dame Perrine,—a great artist, come hither from -Florence, expressly to serve his Most Christian Majesty." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" said the good woman, who did not understand very well; "what does -your master make?" -</p> - -<p> -"What does he make? Why, he makes everything: rings to put on maidens' -fingers; ewers to put upon kings' tables; statues to place in the -temples of the gods; and in his leisure moments he besieges or defends -cities, as his caprice leads him to cause an emperor to tremble, or to -reassure a pope." -</p> - -<p> -"Jésus Dieu!" cried Dame Perrine: "what is your master's name?" -</p> - -<p> -"His name is Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"It's strange that I don't know that name," muttered the duenna; "what -is his profession?" -</p> - -<p> -"He is a goldsmith." -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine gazed wonderingly at Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"A goldsmith!" she muttered, "a goldsmith! And do you fancy that -Monsieur le Prévôt will give up his palace like this to a—goldsmith?" -</p> - -<p> -"If he doesn't give it up, we will take it." -</p> - -<p> -"By force?" -</p> - -<p> -"Even so." -</p> - -<p> -"But your master will hardly dare to contend against Monsieur le -Prévôt, I trust." -</p> - -<p> -"He has contended against three dukes and two popes." -</p> - -<p> -"Jésus Dieu! Two popes! He's not a heretic surely?" -</p> - -<p> -"He is as good a Catholic as you and I, Dame Perrine: have no fear on -that score; Satan is in no wise our ally. But in default of the devil, -we have the king on our side." -</p> - -<p> -"So! but Monsieur le Prévôt has a more powerful protector than the -king." -</p> - -<p> -"Whom has he, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame d'Etampes." -</p> - -<p> -"Then we are on equal terms," said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"But suppose Messire d'Estourville refuses?" -</p> - -<p> -"Master Benvenuto will take." -</p> - -<p> -"And suppose Messire d'Estourville shuts himself up here as in a -citadel?" -</p> - -<p> -"Master Cellini will lay siege to it." -</p> - -<p> -"Consider that the provost has twenty-four sergeants-at-arms." -</p> - -<p> -"Master Benvenuto Cellini has ten apprentices: still we are on equal -terms, you see, Dame Perrine." -</p> - -<p> -"But Messire d'Estourville is personally a sturdy fighter. At the -tournament which took place at the time of the marriage of François I., -he was one of the challengers, and all those who dared measure swords -with him were unhorsed." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah well! Dame Perrine, then he is just the man for Benvenuto, who has -never met his match, and who, like Messire d'Estourville, always -unhorses his adversaries. But there is this difference between them: a -fortnight afterward, they who have encountered your provost are on their -legs again in good health and spirits, while they who have my master to -deal with never raise their heads again, and three days after are dead -and buried." -</p> - -<p> -"Evil will come of this! evil will come of this!" muttered Dame Perrine. -"Young man, they say that fearful things are done in cities taken by -assault." -</p> - -<p> -"Have no fear on that head, Dame Perrine," rejoined Ascanio with a -smile. "You will have to do with generous conquerors." -</p> - -<p> -"What I mean, my dear child," said Dame Perrine, who was not sorry -perhaps, to secure a friend among the besiegers, "is that I fear there -may be bloodshed; for, so far as your proximity to us is concerned, you -will understand that it cannot fail to be very agreeable to us, since -society is somewhat scanty in this accursed desert to which Messire -d'Estourville has consigned his daughter and myself, like two wretched -nuns, although neither she nor I have taken the vows, thank God! It isn't -good for man to be alone, so saith Holy Writ, and when Holy Writ -mentions man, woman is included. Is not that your opinion, young man?" -</p> - -<p> -"That goes without saying." -</p> - -<p> -"And we are entirely alone, and therefore very doleful in this vast -habitation." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, do you receive no visitors here?" Ascanio asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Jésus Dieu! it's worse than if we were nuns, as I told you. Nuns have -parents at least, and friends who come and talk to them through the -grating. They have the refectory where they can assemble and talk -together. It's not very diverting, I know, but it's something -nevertheless. But we have only Messire le Prévôt, who comes from time -to time to lecture his daughter for growing too lovely, I think,—it's -her only crime, poor child,—and to scold me because I don't watch her -closely enough,—God save the mark! when she doesn't see a living soul -in the world except myself, and, aside from what she says to me, doesn't -open her mouth except to pray. I beg you, therefore, young man, not -to say to any one that you have been admitted here, that you have -inspected the Grand-Nesle under my guidance, or that you talked with us -for an instant at the Petit-Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"What!" cried Ascanio, "after our visit to the Grand-Nesle, I am to -return with you to the Petit? In that case I shall—" He checked -himself, realizing that his joy was carrying him too far. -</p> - -<p> -"I think it would not be courteous, young man, after presenting -yourself, as you did, to Mademoiselle Colombe, who is the mistress of -the house in her father's absence, and after asking to speak with me -alone,—I do not think it would be courteous, I say, to leave the -Hôtel de Nesle without taking leave of her. But if you prefer not to do -so, you are quite at liberty, as you know, to go into the street directly -from the Grand-Nesle, which has its own exit." -</p> - -<p> -"No, no, no indeed!" cried Ascanio, eagerly. "Peste! I flatter myself, -Dame Perrine, that I have been as well brought up as anybody on earth, -and that I know what good breeding requires in one's treatment of -ladies. But, let us do what we have to do, Dame Perrine, without a -moment's delay, for I am in very great haste." -</p> - -<p> -Indeed, now that Ascanio knew that he was to return by way of the -Petit-Nesle he was in a great hurry to be done with the Grand. And as -Dame Perrine was terribly afraid of being surprised by the provost when -she least expected it, she had no inclination to delay Ascanio! so she -took down a bunch of keys from behind a door, and walked on before him. -</p> - -<p> -Let us, in company with Ascanio, east a hasty glance at this Hôtel de -Nesle, where the principal scenes of our narrative will be laid. -</p> - -<p> -The Hôtel, or rather the Séjour de Nesle, as it was more commonly -called at that time, occupied, as our readers already know, the site on -the left bank of the Seine, on which the Hôtel de Nevers was -subsequently built, to be in its turn succeeded by the Mint and the -Institute. It was the last building in Paris toward the southwest, and -beyond its walls nothing could be seen save the city moat, and the -verdant lawns of the Pré-aux-Clercs. It was built by Amaury, Lord of -Nesle in Picardie, toward the close of the eighth century. Philippe le -Bel bought it in 1308 and made it his royal residence. In 1520 the Tour -de Nesle, of bloody and licentious memory, was separated from it, when -the quay, the bridge over the moat, and the Porte de Nesle were -constructed, and thenceforth the grim tower stood alone upon the river -bank, like a sinner doing penance. -</p> - -<p> -But the Séjour de Nesle luckily was so vast that the lopping off of -part of it was not noticed. It was as large as a small village; a high -wall, pierced by a broad ogive door and a smaller servants' door, -protected it on the side of the quay. On entering you found yourself at -first in an immense courtyard surrounded by walls; there was a door in -the wall at the left, and one at the back. Passing through the door at -the left, as Ascanio did, you came to a charming little building in the -Gothic style of the fourteenth century; it was the Petit-Nesle, which -had its own separate garden. If, on the other hand, you passed through -the door in the rear wall, you saw at your right the Grand-Nesle,—all -of stone, and flanked by two turrets,—with its high peaked roofs, -surrounded by balustrades, its angular façade, its high windows with -glass of many colors, and its twenty weather-vanes crying in the wind; -there was room enough to provide accommodation for three bankers of -to-day. -</p> - -<p> -If you went on, you lost yourself in all sorts of gardens, and you found -among them a tennis-court, a bowling-green, a foundry, and an arsenal; -and still farther on the stable-yards, stables, cattle-sheds, and -sheepfolds; there was accommodation for the establishments of three -farmers of to-day. -</p> - -<p> -The whole property, it should be said, was sadly neglected, and -consequently in very bad condition, for Raimbault and his two assistants -hardly sufficed to take proper care of the garden belonging to the -Petit-Nesle, where Colombe raised flowers, and Dame Perrine vegetables. -But the whole was of vast extent, well lighted, and substantially built, -and with a slight outlay of trouble and money, it could be made the -finest workshop in the world. -</p> - -<p> -Even if the place had been infinitely less suitable, Ascanio would have -been none the less enchanted with it, as his principal desire was to be -brought near to Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -His visit to the larger building was made very short: in less time than -it takes to write it, the active youth saw everything that there was to -see, and formed an opinion upon everything that he saw. Dame Perrine, -finding it impossible to keep pace with him, good-naturedly handed him -the keys, which he faithfully restored to her when his investigation was -at an end. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, Dame Perrine," said he, "I am at your service." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good: let us return for a moment to the Petit-Nesle, as you agree -with me that it is the proper thing to do." -</p> - -<p> -"I should say as much! It would be extremely discourteous to do -otherwise." -</p> - -<p> -"But not a word to Colombe of the object of your visit." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! what shall I say to her, then?" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"You're easily embarrassed, my handsome lad. Did you not tell me that -you are a goldsmith?" -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed, yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, talk to her about jewels; that is a subject that always -gladdens the heart of the most virtuous maiden. She is or is not a true -daughter of Eve, and if she is a true daughter of Eve she loves anything -that glitters. Besides, she has so little diversion in her solitude, -poor child! that it would be a blessing to entertain her a little. To be -sure, the most suitable entertainment for a girl of her age would be a -good marriage; and Master Robert never comes hither that I do not -whisper in his ear, 'Find a husband for the poor dear; pray find a -husband for her.'" -</p> - -<p> -Without stopping to consider what conjectures as to the relations -between herself and the provost might be set on foot by this declaration -of her familiar manner of addressing him, Dame Perrine led the way back -to the Petit-Nesle and to the room where they had left Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe was still absorbed in thought, and in the same attitude in which -we left her. But no one knows how many times she had raised her head and -fixed her eyes upon the door through which the comely youth had gone -from her sight; any one who had observed these oft-repeated glances -might have thought that she was expecting him. But as she saw the door -turning upon its hinges, Colombe went about her work once more so -earnestly that neither Dame Perrine nor Ascanio could suspect that it -had been interrupted. -</p> - -<p> -How she had divined that the young man was following the duenna is -something that might have been explained by magnetism, if magnetism had -then been invented. -</p> - -<p> -"I bring back with me our donor of holy water, my dear Colombe, for he -it is, as I thought. I was about to show him out by the door of the -Grand-Nesle, when he reminded me that he had not taken leave of you. It -was true enough, for you didn't say one little word to each other -before. However, neither of you is dumb, God be praised!" -</p> - -<p> -"Dame Perrine—" faltered Colombe, greatly embarrassed. -</p> - -<p> -"Well! what is it? You must not blush like that. Monsieur Ascanio is an -honorable young man, as you are a virtuous young woman. Furthermore, it -seems that he is an artist in jewels, precious stones, and such gewgaws -as suit the fancy of most pretty girls. He will come and show them to -you, my child, if you wish." -</p> - -<p> -"I need nothing," murmured Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"Possibly not at this moment; but it is to be hoped that you will not -die a recluse in this accursed solitude. We are but sixteen years old, -Colombe, and the day will come when we shall be a lovely <i>fiancée</i>, to -whom all sorts of jewels will be presented, and after that a great lady, -who must have all sorts of finery. When that time comes, it will be as -well to give the preference to this youth's as to those of some other -artist, who surely will not be comparable to him." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe was on the rack. Ascanio, to whom Dame Perrine's forecasts of -the future were but moderately pleasing, noticed her suffering, and came -to the rescue of the poor child, to whom direct conversation was a -thousand times less embarrassing than this monologue by a -self-constituted interpreter. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! mademoiselle," said he, "do not deny me the great privilege of -bringing some of my handiwork to you; it seems to me now as if I made -them for you, and as if when making them I was thinking of you. Oh! -believe it, I pray you, for we artists in jewels sometimes mingle our -own thoughts with the gold and silver and precious stones. In the -diadems with which your heads are crowned, the bracelets which encircle -your white arms, the necklaces which rest so lovingly upon your -shoulders, in the flowers, the birds, the angels, the chimeras, which we -make to tremble at your ears, we sometimes embody our respectful -adoration." -</p> - -<p> -It is our duty as an historian to state that at these soft words -Colombe's heart dilated, for Ascanio, mute so long, was speaking at -last, and speaking as she had dreamed that he would speak; for without -raising her eyes the girl could feel his burning glance fixed upon her, -and there was nothing, even to the unfamiliar tone of his voice, which -did not impart a singular charm to these words which sounded so -strangely in Colombe's ears, and a profound and irresistible meaning to -the flowing, harmonious language of love, which maidens understand -before they can speak it. -</p> - -<p> -"I know," Ascanio continued, with his eyes still fixed upon Colombe, "I -know that we can add nothing to your beauty. God is made none the richer -by decking out his altar. But we can at least surround your graceful -form with those things which are attractive and beautiful like itself; -and when we poor, humble artificers of splendor and enchantment from the -depths of our obscurity see you pass by in a blaze of glory, we console -ourselves for being so far below you by the thought that our art has -helped to raise you to the height whereon you stand." -</p> - -<p> -"O Monsieur!" replied Colombe, covered with confusion, "your lovely -things will probably be always unfamiliar to me, or at least useless. I -live in solitude and obscurity, and so far is it from being the case -that the solitude and obscurity are oppressive to me, that I confess -that I love them, I confess that I would like to live here always, and -yet I also confess that I would like well to see your jewels, not for -myself but for them,—not to wear them, but to admire them." -</p> - -<p> -Trembling with fear lest she had said too much, and perhaps with a -longing to say even more, Colombe bowed and left the room so swiftly, -that to the eyes of a man more knowing in such matters her exit would -have worn the aspect of a flight. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well!" exclaimed Dame Perrine; "that's not a long way from -something like coquetry. There is no doubt, young man, that you talk -like a book. Yes, yes, one can but believe that you Italians have secret -means of fascinating people. No stronger proof is needed than -this,—that you have enlisted me on your side at once, and 'pon -honor, I find myself wishing that Messire le Prévôt will not deal too -hardly with you. <i>Au revoir</i>, young man, and bid your master be on -his guard. Warn him that Messire d'Estourville is as hard of heart as -the devil, and wields great influence at court. For which reason, if -your master will take my advice, he will abandon all thought of living -at the Grand-Nesle, and especially of taking forcible possession of it. -As for you—but we shall see you again, shall we not? Above all, do -not believe Colombe; the property of her deceased mother is sufficient -to enable her to indulge in baubles twenty times more costly than those -you offer her. And look you, bring also some less elaborate articles; it -may occur to her to make me a little present. I am not yet, thank God! -so old that I need decline a little flirtation. You understand, do you -not?" -</p> - -<p> -Deeming it necessary, the better to make her meaning clear, to enforce -her words with a gesture, she laid her hand upon the young man's arm. -Ascanio jumped like one suddenly awakened from a sound sleep. Indeed, it -seemed to him as if it were all a dream. He could not realize that he -was under Colombe's roof, and he doubted whether the white apparition -whose melodious voice was still whispering in his ear, whose slender -form had just vanished from his sight, was really she for one glance -from whose eyes he would have given his life that morning. -</p> - -<p> -Overflowing with his present happiness and his future prospects, he -promised Dame Perrine whatever she wished, without even listening to -what she asked him to do. What mattered it to him? Was he not ready to -give all that he possessed to see Colombe once more? -</p> - -<p> -Thinking that to prolong his visit would be unbecoming, he took leave of -Dame Perrine, promising to return the next day. -</p> - -<p> -As he left the Petit-Nesle, Ascanio almost collided with two men who -were about to enter. By the way in which one of them stared at him, even -more than by his costume, he felt sure that it was the provost. -</p> - -<p> -His suspicion was changed to certainty when he saw them knock at the -same door by which he had just come out, and he regretted that he had -not sooner taken his leave; for who could say that his imprudence would -not be visited upon Colombe? -</p> - -<p> -To negative the idea that his visit was of any importance, assuming that -the provost noticed it, Ascanio walked away without once turning to look -back toward the only corner of the world of which he would at that -moment have cared to be king. -</p> - -<p> -When he returned to the studio, he found Benvenuto absorbed in thought. -The man who stopped them in the street was Primaticcio, and he was on -his way, like the honorable confrère he was, to inform Cellini that, -during the visit François I. paid him that morning, the imprudent -artist had succeeded in making a mortal enemy of Madame la Duchesse -d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap07"></a></h4> - -<h4>VII -<br /><br /> -A LOVER AND A FRIEND</h4> - -<p> -One of the two men who entered the Hôtel de Nesle as Ascanio emerged -therefrom was indeed Messire Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris. Who -the other was we shall learn in a moment. -</p> - -<p> -Five minutes after Ascanio's departure, while Colombe was still -listening and dreaming in her bedroom, whither she had fled, Dame -Perrine hurriedly entered, and informed the young woman that her father -was awaiting her in the adjoining room. -</p> - -<p> -"My father!" cried Colombe in alarm. "Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" she added in -an undertone, "can it be that he met him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, your father, my dear child," rejoined Dame Perrine, replying to -the only portion of the sentence that she heard, "and with him another -old man whom I do not know." -</p> - -<p> -"Another old man!" exclaimed Colombe, shuddering instinctively. "Mon -Dieu! Dame Perrine, what does it mean? It is the first time in two or -three years that my father has not come hither alone." -</p> - -<p> -However, notwithstanding her alarm she could but obey, knowing as she -did her father's impatient disposition, so she summoned all her courage -and returned to the room she had just left with a smile upon her lips. -Despite this feeling of dread, which she experienced for the first time -and could not explain, she loved Messire d'Estourville as a daughter -should love her father, and although his demeanor toward her was far -from expansive, the days on which he visited the Hôtel de Nesle were -marked as red-letter days among the uniformly gloomy days of her life. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe went forward with outstretched arms and her mouth half open, but -the provost gave her no time either to embrace him or to speak. He took -her hand, and led her to the stranger, who was leaning against the -flower-laden mantel. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear friend," he said, "I present my daughter to you. Colombe," he -added, "this is Comte d'Orbec, the king's treasurer and your future -husband." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe uttered a feeble exclamation, which she at once stifled, out of -regard for the requirements of courtesy; but feeling her knees giving -way beneath her, she leaned against the back of a chair for support. -</p> - -<p> -Fully to understand the horror of this unexpected presentation, -especially in Colombe's then frame of mind, it is necessary to know what -manner of man this Comte d'Orbec was. -</p> - -<p> -Messire Robert d'Estourville, Colombe's father, was certainly far from -handsome; there was in his bushy eyebrows, which he drew together at the -least obstacle, physical or moral, that he encountered, a savage -expression, and in his whole thickset figure something heavy and -awkward, which caused one to feel but slightly prepossessed in his -favor; but beside Comte d'Orbec he seemed like Saint Michael the -Archangel beside the dragon. The square head and the strongly -accentuated features of the provost did at least indicate resolution and -force of character, while his small, piercing gray lynx eyes denoted -intelligence; but Comte d'Orbec, lean and withered, with his long arms -like spider's claws his mosquito-like voice and his snail-like -movements, was not only ugly, he was absolutely hideous;—it was the -ugliness of the beast and the villain in one. His head was carried on -one side, and his face wore a villanous smile and a treacherous -expression. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that Colombe, at the sight of this revolting creature, who was -presented to her as her future husband when her heart and her thoughts -and her eyes were still filled with the comely youth who had just gone -from that very room, could not, as we have seen, wholly repress an -exclamation of dismay; but her strength failed her, and she stood there -pale and speechless, gazing terror-stricken into her father's face. -</p> - -<p> -"I beseech you to pardon Colombe's confusion, dear friend," the provost -continued; "in the first place, she is a little barbarian, who has not -been away from here these two years past, the air of the time being not -over healthy, as you know, for attractive maids; secondly, I have made -the mistake of not informing her of our plans, which would have been -time lost, however, since what I have determined upon needs no person's -approval before being put in execution; and lastly, she knows not who -you are, and that with your name, your great wealth, and the favor of -Madame d'Etampes, you are in a position where everything is possible; -but upon reflection she will appreciate the honor you confer upon us in -consenting to ally your ancient blood with our nobility of more recent -date; she will learn that friends of forty years' standing—" -</p> - -<p> -"Enough, my dear fellow, enough, in God's name!" interposed the count. -"Come, come, my child," he added, addressing Colombe with familiar and -insolent assurance, which formed a striking contrast to poor Ascanio's -timidity,—"come, compose yourself and call back to your cheeks a -little of the lovely coloring that so becomes you. Mon Dieu! I know what a -young girl is, you know, and a young woman too for that matter, for I -have already been married twice, my dear. Good lack! you must not be -disturbed like this: I don't frighten you, I hope, eh?" added the count -fatuously, passing his fingers through his scanty moustache and -imperial. "Your father did wrong to give me the title of husband so -suddenly, which always agitates a youthful heart a little when it hears -it for the first time; but you will come to it, little one, and will end -by saying it yourself with that sweet little mouth of yours. Well! -well! you are growing paler and paler,—God forgive me! I believe she -is fainting." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke D'Orbec put out his arms to support her, but she stood -erect, and stepped back as if she feared his touch no less than a -serpent's, finding strength to utter a few words:— -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon, monsieur, pardon, father," she faltered; "forgive me, it is -nothing; but I thought, I hoped—" -</p> - -<p> -"What did you think, what did you hope? Come, tell us quickly!" rejoined -the provost, fixing his sharp eyes, snapping angrily, upon his daughter. -</p> - -<p> -"That you would allow me to stay with you always, father," replied -Colombe. "Since my poor mother's death, you have no one else to love you -and care for you, and I had thought—" -</p> - -<p> -"Hold your peace, Colombe," retorted the provost imperatively. "I am not -old enough as yet to need a keeper, and you have arrived at the proper -age to have an establishment of your own. -</p> - -<p> -"Bon Dieu!" interposed D'Orbec, joining once more in the conversation, -"accept me without so much ado, my love. With me you will be as happy as -one can be, and more than one will envy you, I swear. Mordieu! I am -rich, and I propose, that you shall be a credit to me; you shall go to -court, and shall wear jewels that will arouse the envy, I will not say -of the queen, but of Madame d'Etampes herself." -</p> - -<p> -I know not what thoughts these last words awoke in Colombe's heart, but -the color returned to her cheeks, and she made hold to answer the count, -despite her father's harsh and threatening glance:— -</p> - -<p> -"I will ask my father, monseigneur, at least to give me time to reflect -upon your proposal." -</p> - -<p> -"What's that?" cried Messire d'Estourville violently. "Not an hour, not -a minute. You are from this moment the count's betrothed, understand -that, and you would be his wife this evening were it not that he is -obliged to pay a visit to his estates in Normandie, and you know that my -wishes are commands. Reflect indeed! Sarpejeu! D'Orbec, let us leave her -ladyship. From this moment, my friend, she is yours, and you may claim -her when you will. And now let us go and inspect your future abode." -</p> - -<p> -D'Orbec would have been glad to tarry and add a word to what he had -already said, but the provost passed his arm through his, and led him -away grumbling; he contented himself therefore with saluting Colombe -with his wicked smile, and went out with Messire Robert. -</p> - -<p> -Behind them Dame Perrine entered through another door; she had heard the -provost speaking in a loud voice, and guessed that he was as usual -scolding his daughter. She arrived in time to receive Colombe in her -arms. -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" sobbed the poor child, putting her hand over her -eyes as if to avoid the sight of the odious D'Orbec, absent though he -was. "O mon Dieu! is this to be the end? O my golden dreams! O my poor -hopes! All is lost, and naught remains for me but to die!" -</p> - -<p> -We need not ask if this lament, added to Colombe's weakness and pallor, -terrified Dame Perrine, and at the same time aroused her curiosity. As -Colombe sadly needed to relieve her overburdened heart, she described to -her worthy governess, weeping the while the bitterest tears she had ever -shed, the interview between her father, Comte d'Orbec, and herself. Dame -Perrine agreed that the suitor was not young or handsome, but as the -worst misfortune, in her opinion, that could happen to a woman was to -remain single, she insisted that it was better, when all was said, to -have an old and ugly, but wealthy and influential husband, than none at -all. But this doctrine was so offensive to Colombe's heart, that she -withdrew to her own room, leaving Dame Perrine, whose imagination was -most active, to build innumerable castles in the air in anticipation of -the day when she should rise from the rank of Mademoiselle Colombe's -governess to that of Comtesse d'Orbec's <i>dame de compagnie</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile the provost and the count were beginning their tour of -inspection of the Grand-Nesle, as Dame Perrine and Ascanio had done an -hour earlier. -</p> - -<p> -Curious results would follow if walls, which are commonly supposed to -have ears, had also eyes and a tongue, and could repeat to those who -enter what they have seen and heard on the part of those who have gone -before. -</p> - -<p> -But as the walls held their peace, and simply looked at the provost and -the treasurer, laughing perhaps, after the manner of walls, it was the -treasurer who spoke. -</p> - -<p> -"On my word," he said, as they crossed the courtyard leading from the -Petit to the Grand-Nesle, "on my word, the little one will do very well; -she is just such a woman as I need, my dear D'Estourville, virtuous, -well-bred, and ignorant. When the first storm has passed over, time will -straighten out everything, believe me. I know how it is; every little -girl dreams of a young, handsome, clever, and wealthy husband. Mon Dieu! -I have at least half of the requisite qualities. Few men can say as -much, so that's a great point in my favor." Passing from his future wife -to the property he was to occupy, and speaking with the same shrill, -greedy accent of the one as of the other, "This old Nesle," he -continued, "is a magnificent habitation, on my honor! and I congratulate -you upon it. We shall be marvellously comfortable here, my wife and I, -and my whole treasury. Here we will have our own apartments, there will -be my offices, and over yonder the servants' quarters. The place as a -whole has been allowed to run to seed. But with the expenditure of a -little money, which we will find a way to make his Majesty pay, we will -give a good account of ourselves. By the way, D'Estourville, are you -perfectly sure of retaining the property? You should take steps to -perfect your title to it; so far as I now remember, the king did not -give it you, after all." -</p> - -<p> -"He did not give it me, true," replied the provost with a laugh, "but he -let me take it, which is much the same thing." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good; but suppose that some other should play you the trick of -making a formal request for it from him." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! such a one would be very ill received, I promise you, when he -should come to take possession, and, being sure as I am of Madame -d'Etampes's support and yours, I would make him sorely repent his -pretensions. No, no, my dear fellow, my mind is at ease, and the Hôtel -de Nesle belongs to me as truly as my daughter Colombe belongs to you; -go, therefore, without fear on that score, and return quickly." -</p> - -<p> -As the provost uttered these words, the truth of which neither he nor -his interlocutor had any reason to doubt, a third personage, escorted by -Raimbault the gardener, appeared upon the threshold of the door leading -from the quadrangular courtyard into the gardens of the Petit-Nesle. It -was the Vicomte de Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -He also was a suitor for Colombe's hand, but by no means a favored one. -He was a fair-haired scamp, with a pink face, consequential, insolent, -garrulous, forever boasting of his relations with women, who often used -him as a cloak for their serious amours, overflowing with pride in his -post of secretary to the king, which permitted him to approach his -Majesty in the same way in which his greyhounds and parrots and monkeys -approached him. The provost, therefore, was not deceived by his apparent -favor and the superficial familiarity of his relations with his Majesty, -which favor and familiarity he owed, so it was said, to his decidedly -unmoral additions to the duties of his post. Furthermore, the Vicomte de -Marmagne had long since devoured all his patrimony, and had no other -fortune than the liberality of François. How it might happen any day -that this liberal disposition would cease, so far as he was concerned, -and Messire Robert d'Estourville was not fool enough to rely, in matters -of such importance, upon the caprice of a very capricious monarch. He -had therefore gently denied the suit of the Vicomte de Marmagne, -admitting to him confidentially and under the seal of secrecy that his -daughter's hand had long been promised to another. Thanks to this -confidential communication, which supplied a motive for the provost's -refusal, the Vicomte de Marmagne and Messire Robert d'Estourville had -continued to be in appearance the best friends in the world, although -from that day the viscount detested the provost, and the provost was -suspicious of the viscount, who could not succeed in concealing his -rancor beneath an affable and smiling exterior from a man so accustomed -as Messire Robert to peer into the dark corners of courts, and the -deepest depths of men's hearts. So it was that, whenever the viscount -made his appearance, the provost expected to find in him, -notwithstanding his invariably affable and engaging demeanor, a bearer -of bad news, which he would always impart with tears in his eyes, and -with the feigned, premeditated grief which squeezes out poison upon a -wound, drop by drop. -</p> - -<p> -As for Comte d'Orbec, the Vicomte de Marmagne had wellnigh come to an -open rupture with him; it was one of the rare instances of court -enmities visible to the naked eye. D'Orbec despised Marmagne, because -Marmagne had no fortune and could make no display. Marmagne despised -D'Orbec, because D'Orbec was old and had consequently lost the power of -making himself agreeable to women; in fine, they mutually detested each -other, because, whenever they met upon the same path, one of them had -taken something from the other. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that when they met on this occasion the two courtiers greeted -each other with that cold, sardonic smile which is never seen save in -palace antechambers, and which means, "Ah! if we weren't a pair of -cowards, how long ago one of us would have ceased to live!" -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless, as it is the historian's duty to set down everything, good -and bad alike, it is proper to state that they confined themselves to -this salutation and this smile, and that Comte d'Orbec, escorted by the -provost, and without exchanging a word with Marmagne, left the house -immediately by the same door by which his enemy entered. -</p> - -<p> -Let us hasten to add, that, notwithstanding the hatred which kept them -asunder, these two men were ready, in case of need, to unite temporarily -to destroy a third. -</p> - -<p> -Comte d'Orbec having taken his leave, the provost found himself -<i>tête-à-tête</i> with the Vicomte de Marmagne. He walked toward him with -a joyous countenance, in striking contrast to the melancholy visage with -which the other awaited him. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my dear provost," said Marmagne, to open the conversation, "you -seem in extremely good spirits." -</p> - -<p> -"While you, my dear Marmagne," rejoined the provost, "seem sadly -depressed." -</p> - -<p> -"Simply because, as you know, my poor D'Estourville, my friends' -misfortunes afflict me as keenly as my own." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, I know your heart," said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"And when I saw you in such a joyous mood, with your future son-in-law, -Comte d'Orbec,—for your daughter's betrothal to him is no longer a -secret, and I congratulate you upon it, my dear D'Estourville—" -</p> - -<p> -"You know that I told you long ago that Colombe's hand was promised, my -dear Marmagne." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, but, 'pon honor, I cannot understand how you can consent to part -from such a fascinating child." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! I do not propose to part from her," replied Messire Robert. "My -son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec, will bring his whole establishment across the -Seine, and will take up his abode at the Grand-Nesle, while I shall -spend my unoccupied moments at the Petit." -</p> - -<p> -"My poor friend!" exclaimed Marmagne, shaking his head with an air of -profound sadness, and placing one hand upon the provost's arm while with -the other he wiped away a tear which did not exist. -</p> - -<p> -"Why 'poor friend'?" demanded Messire Robert. "Come! what have you to -tell me now?" -</p> - -<p> -"Am I the first, pray, to tell you the unpleasant news?" -</p> - -<p> -"What is it? Speak out!" -</p> - -<p> -"You know, my dear provost, that we must take things philosophically in -this world, and there is an old proverb which we poor weak mortals -should keep constantly in mind, for it sums up the accumulated wisdom of -all nations." -</p> - -<p> -"What is the proverb? Say what you have to say." -</p> - -<p> -"Man proposes, my dear friend, man proposes, and God disposes." -</p> - -<p> -"In God's name, what have I proposed for him to dispose of? Say on, I -beg you, and let us have done with it." -</p> - -<p> -"You have intended the Grand-Nesle for the residence of your daughter -and son-in-law?" -</p> - -<p> -"Most assuredly; and I trust that they will be installed there within -three months." -</p> - -<p> -"Undeceive yourself, my dear provost, undeceive yourself; the Hôtel de -Nesle is no longer your property at this moment. Pardon me for -afflicting you thus, but I thought, knowing your somewhat hasty nature, -that it would be better for you to learn the news from the mouth of a -friend, who would spare your feelings in the telling as much as -possible, rather than from some malicious fellow, who would take a keen -delight in your misfortune, and brutally east it in your faee, Alas! no, -my friend, the Grand-Nesle is yours no longer." -</p> - -<p> -"Who has taken it from me, I pray to know?" -</p> - -<p> -"His Majesty." -</p> - -<p> -"His Majesty!" -</p> - -<p> -"Himself, so you see that the disaster is irreparable." -</p> - -<p> -"When was it done?" -</p> - -<p> -"This morning. If I had not been detained by my duties at the Louvre, -you would have been sooner apprised of it." -</p> - -<p> -"You are mistaken, Marmagne; it's some false report set afloat by my -enemies, and which you are in too great haste to repeat." -</p> - -<p> -"I would be glad for many reasons if it were so, but unfortunately I was -not told of it; I heard it." -</p> - -<p> -"You heard it? what?" -</p> - -<p> -"I heard the king with his own month present the Grand-Nesle to -another." -</p> - -<p> -"Who is this other?" -</p> - -<p> -"An Italian adventurer, a paltry goldsmith, whose name you perhaps have -heard; an intriguing rascal named Benvenuto Cellini, who came from -Florence some two months since, whom the king has taken upon his -shoulders for some unknown reason, and to whom he paid a visit to-day -with his whole court at the Cardinal of Ferrara's hotel, where this -pretended artist has established his studio." -</p> - -<p> -"And you say that you were present, viscount, when the king presented -the Grand-Nesle to this wretch?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was," replied Marmagne, pronouncing the words very slowly and -distinctly, and dwelling upon them with evident relish. -</p> - -<p> -"Oho!" said the provost, "very good! I am ready for your adventurer: let -him come and take possession of his royal gift." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean that you would offer resistance?" -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure!" -</p> - -<p> -"To an order of the king?" -</p> - -<p> -"To an order of God or the devil,—to any order, in short, which -should undertake to eject me from this place." -</p> - -<p> -"Softly, provost, softly," said Marmagne, "over and above the king's -wrath, to which you expose yourself, this Benvenuto Cellini is in -himself more to be feared than you think." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know who I am, viscount?" -</p> - -<p> -"First of all, he stands very high in his Majesty's good graces,—only -for the moment, to be sure,—but it is none the less true." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know that I, the Provost of Paris, represent his Majesty at the -Châtelet, that I sit there beneath a canopy, in a short coat and a -cloak with a collar, with my sword at my side, a hat with waving plumes -on my head, and in my hand a staff covered with blue velvet?" -</p> - -<p> -"Secondly, I will tell you that this accursed Italian makes no scruple -of offering combat, as if he stood on equal terms with them, to princes, -cardinals, and popes." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know that I have a private seal which imparts the fullest -authority to those documents to which it is affixed?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is said, furthermore, that the damned bully wounds or kills -recklessly every one who ventures to oppose him." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you not know that a bodyguard of twenty-four men-at-arms is at my -orders night and day?" -</p> - -<p> -"They say that he attacked a goldsmith against whom he had a grudge, -although he was surrounded by a guard of sixty men." -</p> - -<p> -"You forget that the Hôtel de Nesle is fortified, that the walls are -crenellated, and there are machicoulis above the doors, to say nothing -of the city fortifications which render it impregnable on one side." -</p> - -<p> -"It is said that he is as thoroughly at home in the science of sieges as -Bayard or Antonio de Leyra." -</p> - -<p> -"As to that we shall see." -</p> - -<p> -"I am sorely afraid." -</p> - -<p> -"I will bide my time." -</p> - -<p> -"Look you, my dear friend, will you allow me to offer you a little -advice?" -</p> - -<p> -"Say on, so that it be brief." -</p> - -<p> -"Do not try to struggle with one who is stronger than you." -</p> - -<p> -"Stronger than I, a paltry Italian mechanic! Viscount, you exasperate -me!" -</p> - -<p> -"You may find reason to repent, 'pon honor! I speak whereof I know." -</p> - -<p> -"Viscount, you try my temper." -</p> - -<p> -"Consider that the fellow has the king on his side." -</p> - -<p> -"And I have Madame d'Etampes." -</p> - -<p> -"His Majesty may take it ill of you to resist his will." -</p> - -<p> -"I have already done it, Monsieur, and successfully." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I know, in the matter of the toll at the bridge of Mantes. -But—" -</p> - -<p> -"But what?" -</p> - -<p> -"One risks nothing, or very little at all events, in resisting a weak, -good-natured king, while one risks everything in entering into a contest -with a powerful, formidable opponent like Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"By Mahomet's belly, Viscount, do you propose to drive me mad?" -</p> - -<p> -"On the contrary, my purpose is to make you discreet." -</p> - -<p> -"Enough, Viscount, enough! Ah! the villain shall pay dear, I swear, for -these moments that your friendship has caused me to pass." -</p> - -<p> -"God grant it, Provost! God grant it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, very good! You have nothing else to tell me?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, no, I believe not," the viscount replied, as if he were trying to -recall some item of news which would make a fitting pendant to the -other. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, adieu!" cried the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, my poor friend!" -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu!" -</p> - -<p> -"At all events I have given you warning." -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu!" -</p> - -<p> -"I shall have no reason to reproach myself: that consoles me." -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu! adieu!" -</p> - -<p> -"Good luck attend you! But I must say that I express that wish with but -little hope of its being gratified." -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu! adieu! adieu!" -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu!" -</p> - -<p> -And the Vicomte de Marmagne, sighing as if his heart would burst, and -with grief-stricken face, took his departure, gesticulating mournfully, -after he had pressed the provost's hand as if he were saying farewell to -him forever. -</p> - -<p> -The provost followed him, and with his own hands secured the street door -behind him. -</p> - -<p> -It will readily be understood that this friendly conversation had heated -Messire d'Estourville's blood and stirred his bile to an extreme degree. -He was looking around in search of some one upon whom he might vent his -ill-humor, when he suddenly remembered the young man whom he had seen -emerging from the Grand-Nesle as he entered with Comte d'Orbec. As -Raimbault was at hand he had not far to seek for one who could answer -his questions touching that stranger, so he summoned the gardener with -one of those imperative gestures which admit no delay, and asked him -what he knew about the young man. -</p> - -<p> -The gardener replied that the individual to whom his master referred had -presented himself in the king's name, to inspect the Grand-Nesle; that -he did not consider it his duty to take anything upon himself, and -therefore referred him to Dame Perrine, who good-naturedly showed him -over the whole establishment. -</p> - -<p> -The provost thereupon rushed to the Petit-Nesle to demand an explanation -from the worthy duenna, but she unfortunately had just gone out to -purchase the weekly supply of provisions. -</p> - -<p> -There remained Colombe, but as the provost could not believe that she -had seen the youthful stranger, after the forcible and explicit terms in -which he had forbidden Dame Perrine to allow good-looking young men to -approach her, he did not even speak to her on the subject. -</p> - -<p> -As his duties required him to return to the Grand Châtelet, he -departed, ordering Raimbault, on pain of instant dismissal, to admit no -person to the Grand or Petit-Nesle, whoever he might be, or in -whosesoever name he might come, especially the miserable adventurer who -had been admitted previously. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that, when Ascanio presented himself on the following day with -his wares, in accordance with Dame Perrine's suggestion, Raimbault -simply opened a small window, and informed him through the bars that the -Hôtel de Nesle was closed to everybody, particularly to him. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, as may be imagined, withdrew in despair; but we hasten to say -that he did not for a moment attribute this extraordinary reception to -Colombe; the maiden had bestowed but one glance upon him, had uttered -but one sentence, but that glance was so eloquent of shy affection, and -there was such a wealth of loving melody in that one sentence, that it -had seemed to Ascanio since he parted from her as if an angel's voice -were singing in his heart. -</p> - -<p> -He fancied therefore, and with good reason, that, as he had been seen by -the provost, the provost was the author of that terrible order of which -he was the victim. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap08"></a></h4> - -<h4>VIII -<br /><br /> -PREPARATIONS FOR ATTACK AND DEFENCE</h4> - -<p> -Ascanio had no sooner returned to the studio on the previous day, and -made his report to Benvenuto touching that part of his expedition which -related to the topography of the Hôtel de Nesle, than the goldsmith, -seeing that it met his requirements in every respect, hastened to the -bureau of Seigneur de Neufville, the first secretary of the king's -treasury, to obtain from him documentary evidence of the royal gift. -Seigneur de Neufville demanded until the following day to assure himself -of the validity of Master Benvenuto's claims, and, although the latter -considered him extremely impertinent to refuse to take his word for it, -he realized the reasonableness of the demand, and assented, resolved -however not to allow Messire de Neufville a half-hour's grace on the -following day. -</p> - -<p> -He was punctual to the minute, and was at once admitted to the -secretary's presence, which he considered a favorable augury. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Monseigneur," he said, "is the Italian a liar, or did he tell you -the truth?" -</p> - -<p> -"The whole truth, my dear friend." -</p> - -<p> -"That is very fortunate." -</p> - -<p> -"And the king has ordered me to hand you a deed of gift in proper form." -</p> - -<p> -"It will be welcome." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet—" continued the secretary, hesitatingly. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what more is there? Let us hear." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet if you would allow me to offer you some good advice—" -</p> - -<p> -"Good advice! the devil! that's a rare article, Monsieur le Secrétaire; -say on, say on." -</p> - -<p> -"I should advise you to seek another location for your studio than the -Grand-Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed!" retorted Benvenuto dryly; "think you that it is not a -convenient location?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is, indeed; and truth compels me to state that you would have great -difficulty in finding a better." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, what is the matter then?" -</p> - -<p> -"That it belongs to a personage of too much importance for you to come -in collision with him without danger." -</p> - -<p> -"I myself belong to the noble King of France," rejoined Cellini, "and I -shall never flinch so long as I act in his name." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, but in our country, Master Benvenuto, every nobleman is king -in his own house, and in seeking to eject the provost from the house -which he occupies you risk your life." -</p> - -<p> -"We must all die sooner or later," was Cellini's sententious reply. -</p> - -<p> -"You are determined, then—" -</p> - -<p> -"To kill the devil before the devil kills me. Trust me for that, -Monsieur le Secrétaire. Let the provost look well to himself, as all -those must do who assume to oppose the king's wishes, especially when -Master Benvenuto Cellini has it in charge to carry them out." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon Messire Nicolas de Neufville made an end of his philanthropic -observations, but alleged all sorts of formalities to be complied with -before delivering the deed. But Benvenuto tranquilly seated himself, -declaring that he would not stir until the document was placed in his -hands, and that he was determined to stay the night there, if necessary, -having foreseen that possibility, and taken the precaution to say to his -people that he might not return. -</p> - -<p> -Taking note of this determination, Messire Nicolas de Neufville, -regardless of consequences, delivered the deed of gift to Benvenuto -Cellini, taking pains, however, to advise Messire Robert d'Estourville -of what he had been compelled to do, in part by the king's will, in part -by the goldsmith's persistence. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto returned to his domicile without saying anything to anybody of -what he had done, locked up the deed in the drawer in which he kept his -precious stones, and calmly resumed his work. -</p> - -<p> -The information transmitted to the provost by the secretary convinced -Messire Robert that Benvenuto, as the Vicomte de Marmagne had said that -he would do, persisted in his purpose to take possession of the Hôtel -de Nesle, peaceably or by force. The provost, therefore, prepared to -maintain his rights, sent for his twenty-four sergeants-at-arms, posted -sentinels upon the walls, and went to the Châtelet only when the duties -of his office absolutely compelled him to do so. -</p> - -<p> -Days passed, however, and Cellini, tranquilly occupied with the work he -had in hand, made not the least demonstration. But the provost felt -certain that this apparent tranquillity was only a ruse, and that his -foe proposed to wait until he had grown weary of watching, and then take -him unawares. And so Messire Robert, with eyes and ears always on the -alert, his mind always in a state of extreme tension, and engrossed with -warlike thoughts, was finally reduced by this condition of affairs, -which was neither peace nor war, to a state of feverish expectation and -anxiety, which threatened, if it were prolonged, to make him as mad as -the governor of the Castle of San Angelo. He could not eat or sleep, and -grew perceptibly thinner. -</p> - -<p> -From time to time he would abruptly draw his sword and begin to make -passes at a wall, shouting:— -</p> - -<p> -"Let him come on! let him come on, the villain! Let him come on, I am -ready for him!" -</p> - -<p> -But Benvenuto did not come on. -</p> - -<p> -D'Estourville had his calmer moments, too, during which he would succeed -in persuading himself that the goldsmith's tongue, was longer than his -sword, and that he would never dare to carry out his damnable schemes. -It was at one of these moments that Colombe, happening to come out of -her room, observed all the warlike preparations, and asked her father -what was the occasion of them. -</p> - -<p> -"A scoundrel to be chastised, that's all," the provost replied. -</p> - -<p> -As it was the provost's business to chastise, Colombe did not even ask -who the scoundrel was whose chastisement was preparing, being too deeply -preoccupied with her own thoughts not to be content with this brief -explanation. -</p> - -<p> -In very truth, Messire Robert with a single word had made a fearful -change in his daughter's life; that life, hitherto so calm, so simple, -so obscure and secluded, that life of peaceful days and tranquil nights, -was like a lake whose surface is suddenly ruffled by a tempest. She had -felt at times before that her soul was sleeping, that her heart was -empty, but she thought that her solitude was the cause of her -melancholy, and attributed the emptiness of her heart to the fact that -she had lost her mother in her infancy. And now, without warning, her -existence, her thoughts, her heart and her soul were filled to -overflowing, but with grief. -</p> - -<p> -Ah! how she then sighed for the days of ignorance and tranquillity, when -the commonplace but watchful friendship of Dame Perrine was almost -sufficient for her happiness; the days of hope and faith, when she -reckoned upon the future as one reckons upon a friend; the days of -filial trust and confidence, when she believed in the affection of her -father. Alas! her future now was the hateful love of Comte d'Orbec; her -father's affection was simply ambition so disguised. Why, instead of -being the only inheritor of a noble name and vast fortune, was she not -the child of some obscure bourgeois of the city, who would have cared -for and cherished her? In that case she might, have fallen in with this -young artist, in whose speech there was so much to move and fascinate, -this handsome Ascanio, who seemed to have such a wealth of happiness and -love to bestow. -</p> - -<p> -But when the rapid beating of her heart and her flushed cheeks warned -her that the stranger's image had filled her thoughts too long, she -condemned herself to the task of banishing the lovely dream, and -succeeded in placing before her eyes the desolating reality. Since her -father had made known to her his matrimonial plans, she had expressly -forbidden Dame Perrine to receive Ascanio, upon one pretext or another, -threatening to tell her father everything if she disobeyed; and as the -governess, fearing to be accused of complicity with him, had said -nothing of the hostile projects of Ascanio's master, poor Colombe -believed herself to be well protected in that direction. -</p> - -<p> -It must not be supposed, however, that the sweet-natured child was -resigned to the idea of obeying her father's commands. No; her whole -being revolted at the thought of an alliance with this man, whom she -would have hated had she really known what hate was. Beneath her -beautiful, pale brow she revolved a thousand thoughts, hitherto unknown -to her mind,—thoughts of revolt and rebellion, which she looked upon -almost as crimes, and for which she asked God's forgiveness upon her -knees. Then it occurred to her to go and throw herself at the king's -feet. But she had heard it whispered that the same idea had occurred to -Diane de Poitiers under much more terrible circumstances, and that she -left her honor there. Madame d'Etampes might protect her too, if she -chose. But would she choose? Would she not greet the complaints of a -mere child with a contemptuous smile? Such a smile of mockery and -contempt she had seen upon her father's lips when she begged him to keep -her with him, and it made a terrible impression upon her. -</p> - -<p> -Thus Colombe had no refuge but God: and she knelt before her -<i>prie-Dieu</i> a hundred times a day, imploring the Omnipotent to send -succor to her weakness before the end of the three months which still -separated her from her formidable <i>fiancé</i>, or, if she could hope -for no relief on earth, to allow her at least to join her mother in -heaven. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio's existence, meanwhile, was no less troublous and unhappy than -that of his beloved. Twenty times since Raimbault had made known to him -the order which forbade his admission to the Hôtel de Nesle had he -loitered dreaming about the lofty walls which separated him from his -life,—in the morning before anybody had risen, and at night after -everybody was asleep. But not once, either openly or furtively, did he -try to make his way into the forbidden garden. He still had that -virginal respect of early youth, which protects the woman whom one loves -against the very passion which she may have to fear at a later period. -</p> - -<p> -But this did not prevent Ascanio, as he worked away at his carving and -chasing, from indulging in many an extravagant dream, to say nothing of -those he dreamed in his morning and evening promenades, or during his -troubled sleep at night. These dreams were concerned more especially -with the day, at first so much dreaded, now so eagerly desired by him, -when Benvenuto should assume possession of the Hôtel de Nesle; for -Ascanio knew his master, and that all this apparent tranquillity was -that of a volcano breeding an eruption. Cellini had given out that the -eruption would take place on the following Sunday. Ascanio had no doubt, -therefore, that on the following Sunday Cellini's undertaking would be -accomplished. -</p> - -<p> -But so far as he was able to judge in his walks around the Séjour de -Nesle, the undertaking would not be accomplished without some -difficulty, thanks to the guard which was constantly maintained upon the -walls; and Ascanio had observed about the hotel all the indications of a -fortified post. If there should be an attack, there would be a defence; -and as the fortress seemed little disposed to capitulate, it was clear -that it must be taken by assault. It was at that decisive moment that -Ascanio's chivalrous nature might expect to find an opportunity to -display itself. There would be a battle, there would be a breach in the -walls to carry, and perhaps there would be a conflagration. Ah! -something of that sort was what he longed for! a conflagration most of -all,—a conflagration whereby Colombe's life would be endangered! Then -he would dart up the tottering staircases, among the burning rafters, -and over the crumbling walls. He would hear her voice calling for help; -he would seek her out, take her in his arms, dying and almost -unconscious, and bear her away to safety through the roaring sea of -flame, her heart against his, and inhaling her breath. Then, having -brought her safely through a thousand dangers, he would lay her at the -feet of her despairing father, who would reward his gallant conduct by -giving her to the man who had saved her life. Or else, as he bore her in -his arms over a frail plank thrown across the flaming chasm, his foot -would slip, and they would fall together and die in each other's arms, -their hearts blending in one last sigh, in a first and last kiss. This -latter alternative was not to be despised by one who had so little hope -in his heart as Ascanio; for next to the felicity of living for each -other, the greatest happiness is to die together. -</p> - -<p> -Thus it will be seen that all our friends were passing through some very -agitated days and nights, with the exception of Benvenuto Cellini, who -seemed entirely to have forgotten his hostile designs upon the Hôtel de -Nesle, and of Scozzone, who knew nothing of them. -</p> - -<p> -The whole week passed away thus, and Benvenuto Cellini, having worked -conscientiously throughout the six days that composed it, and having -almost completed the clay model of his Jupiter, donned his coat of mail -on the Saturday about five o'clock, buttoned his doublet over it, and, -bidding Ascanio accompany him, bent his steps toward the Hôtel de -Nesle. When they reached the spot, Cellini made the circuit of the -walls, spying out the weak spots, and meditating his plan of siege. -</p> - -<p> -The attack offered more than one difficulty, as the provost had said to -his friend Marmagne, as Ascanio had informed his master, and as -Benvenuto was now able to see for himself. The Château de Nesle was -crenellated and machicolated, was defended by a double wall on the river -side, and furthermore by the city moats and ramparts on the side of the -Pré-aux-Clercs. It was one of those massive and imposing feudal -structures, which were equal to the task of defending themselves by -their mass alone, provided that the doors were securely fastened, and of -repelling without outside assistance the assaults of <i>tirelaines</i> and -<i>larroneurs</i>, as they were called in those days, or of the king's men, -if need were. This was often the case at that interesting epoch, when -one was generally compelled to do police duty for himself. -</p> - -<p> -Having made his reconnaissance according to all the ancient and modern -rules of strategy, and deeming it to be his duty to summon the place to -surrender before laying siege to it, he knocked at the little door by -which Ascanio had once entered. For him as for Ascanio the small window -opened; but it was the martial countenance of an archer, instead of that -of the pacific gardener, which appeared in the opening. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you want?" the archer demanded of the stranger who dared to -knock at the door of the Hôtel de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -"To take possession of the hotel, which has been given to me, Benvenuto -Cellini," replied the goldsmith. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good,—wait," rejoined the fellow, and he went at once to -notify Messire d'Estourville, as he had been ordered to do. -</p> - -<p> -A moment later he returned, accompanied by the provost, who did not show -himself, but stood listening, with bated breath, in a corner, surrounded -by part of his garrison, in order to judge the better of the gravity of -the affair. -</p> - -<p> -"We do not know what you mean," said the archer. -</p> - -<p> -"If that be so," said Cellini, "hand this document to Messire le -Prévôt; it is a certified copy of the deed of gift." And he passed the -parchment through the window. -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant disappeared a second time; but as he had simply to put out -his hand to hand the copy to the provost, the window opened again almost -immediately. -</p> - -<p> -"Here is his answer," said the sergeant, passing through the bars the -parchment torn in pieces. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good," rejoined Cellini with perfect tranquillity. "<i>Au -revoir</i>." -</p> - -<p> -He returned to his studio, highly gratified by the attention with which -Ascanio had followed his scrutiny of the place, and the young man's -judicious suggestions as to the <i>coup de main</i> they were to attempt at -some time; and he assured his pupil that he would have made a -distinguished general, were it not that he was destined to become a -still more distinguished artist, which, in Cellini's view, was -infinitely preferable. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning the sun rose in all his glory; Benvenuto had requested -his workmen to come to the studio, although it was Sunday, and not one -of them failed to appear. -</p> - -<p> -"My children," said the master, "it is undoubtedly true that I engaged -you to work at the goldsmith's trade, and not to fight. But during the -two months that we have been together we have learned to know one -another so well that, in a serious emergency, I feel that I can count -upon you, as you all and always can count upon me. You know what I have -in contemplation: we are but poorly accommodated here, with but little -air and little space, and our elbows are too cramped to allow us to -undertake great works, or even to use the forge with any degree of -vigor. The king, in the presence of you all, deigned to bestow upon me a -larger and more commodious abode; but, as he has no leisure to bestow -upon trifling details, he left it to me to install myself therein. Now, -the present possessor does not choose to give over to me this property -which his Majesty has so generously presented to me; therefore we must -take it. The Provost of Paris, who retains possession in the face of his -Majesty's order, (it would seem that such things are of common -occurrence in this land,) does not know the man with whom he has to do; -as soon as I am refused, I demand; as soon as I am resisted, I take by -force. Are you disposed to assist me? I do not conceal from you that -there will be danger in so doing: there is a battle to be fought, there -are walls to be scaled, and other harmless amusements to be indulged in. -There is nothing to fear from the police or the patrol, because we act -by his Majesty's authority; but it may mean death, my children. -Therefore, let those who wish to go elsewhere do so without hesitation, -let those who wish to remain here not be ashamed to say as much; I ask -for none but bold and resolute hearts. If you leave me to go alone with -Pagolo and Ascanio, have no fear on our behalf. I know not how I shall -go to work; but I do know this, that I will not be disappointed for -that. But, by the blood of Christ! if you lend me your hearts and your -arms, as I hope you will, woe to the provost and the provostry. Now that -you are fully instructed in the matter, speak: will you follow me?" -</p> - -<p> -They all shouted with one voice:— -</p> - -<p> -"Anywhere, master; wherever you choose to lead us!" -</p> - -<p> -"Bravo, my children! Then you are all in for the sport?" -</p> - -<p> -"All!" -</p> - -<p> -"Then let the tempest howl!" cried Benvenuto; "at last we are to have a -little diversion. I have been rusty long enough. Up, up, brave hearts -and swords! Ah! thank God! we are soon to give and receive a few lusty -blows! Look you, my dear boys, look you, my gallant friends, we must arm -ourselves, we must agree upon a plan; let them be ready to look to -themselves, and <i>vive la joie</i>! I will give you all that I possess in -the way of weapons, offensive and defensive, in addition to those that -are hanging on the wall, where every one can choose at will. Ah! what we -really need is a good culverin: but there's its value in arquebuses, -hackbuts, pikes, swords, and daggers; and there are coats of mail -galore, and cuirasses and helmets. Come, haste, haste, and let us dress -for the ball! the provost shall pay for the music!" -</p> - -<p> -"Hurrah!" cried all his companions. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon the studio was the scene of a commotion, a tumult, wonderful -to look upon; the verve and enthusiasm of the master infected every -heart and every face. They tried on cuirasses, brandished swords, tested -the point of daggers, laughed and sang, as if a masquerade or festival -of some sort were in progress. Benvenuto ran hither and thither, handing -a boot to this one, buckling the belt of another, and feeling the blood -course hotly and freely through his veins, as if this were the life he -truly loved. -</p> - -<p> -The workmen meanwhile indulged in jokes at one another's expense, -commenting freely upon the bellicose demeanor and awkward attitudes of -their fellows. -</p> - -<p> -"Look, master!" cried one of them; "look at Simon-le-Gaucher,<a name="FNanchor_4_1" id="FNanchor_4_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_1" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> putting -his sword on the same side as we! On the right, man! on the right!" -</p> - -<p> -"See Jehan," retorted Simon, "holding his halberd as he'll hold his -cross when he's a bishop!" -</p> - -<p> -"There's Pagolo putting on a double coat of mail!" said Jehan. -</p> - -<p> -"Why not?" replied Pagolo. "Hermann the German is arraying himself like -a knight in the days of the Emperor Barbarossa!" -</p> - -<p> -In fact, the youth referred to by the appellation of Hermann the German -(a somewhat pleonastic title, as his name alone was so distinctively -Germanic in sound as to indicate that its owner belonged to some one of -the circles of the Holy Empire),—Hermann, we say, had covered himself -from head to foot with iron, and resembled one of the gigantic statues -which the sculptors of that artistic age were accustomed to carve upon -tombs. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, although the physical strength of this redoubtable comrade -from beyond the Rhine had become proverbial in the studio, remarked that -he would be likely to experience some difficulty in moving, being so -completely encased, and that his usefulness would certainly be lessened -rather than increased. Hermann's only reply was to leap upon a table as -lightly as if he were clad in velvet, take down an enormous hammer, wave -it around his head, and strike the anvil three such terrific blows that -each of them drove it an inch into the ground. There was nothing to say -to such a reply; so Benvenuto waved his hand and nodded his head -respectfully in token of satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio alone made his toilet apart from the others. He could not avoid -a feeling of uneasiness as to the results of the enterprise upon which -they were about to embark; for it might well be that Colombe would not -forgive him for attacking her father, especially if the struggle should -lead to some grave catastrophe, and he would find himself farther -removed from her heart, although nearer to her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone, half joyous, half anxious, wept one moment and laughed the -next. The change of location and the prospect of a battle were by no -means unpleasing to her, but as for blows and wounds, that was another -matter; the preparations for the combat made the frolicsome creature -dance for joy, but its possible results made the woman that was in her -tremble. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto at last noticed her, smiling and weeping at the same time, and -he went to her side. -</p> - -<p> -"Thou wilt remain here, Scozzone, with Ruperta," he said, "and prepare -lint for the wounded, and a good dinner for those who come safely -through it." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh no, no!" cried Scozzone; "oh pray let me go with you! With you I -have courage enough to defy the provost and all his myrmidons, but alone -here with Ruperta I should die of anxiety and fear." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I could never consent to that," replied Benvenuto; "it would -trouble me too much to think that some mishap might befall thee. Thou -wilt pray for us, dear child, while awaiting our return." -</p> - -<p> -"Listen, Benvenuto," rejoined the maiden, as if struck by a sudden -thought, "you understand, of course, that I cannot endure the thought of -remaining quiet here while you are fighting yonder, wounded, perhaps -dying. But there is a way of satisfying both of us; instead of praying -for your safety here in the studio, I will go and pray in the church -nearest to the spot. In that way I shall be out of danger, and shall -know the result immediately, whether it be a victory or a defeat." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, so be it," replied Benvenuto; "it is understood, of course, -that we shall not go forth to kill others, or to be killed ourselves, -without first fulfilling the pious duty of listening to mass. We will go -together to the church of the Grands Augustins, which is nearer than any -other to the Hôtel de Nesle, and will leave thee there, little one." -</p> - -<p> -These arrangements determined upon, and the preparations for the affray -at an end, they drank a glass of Burgundy to the success of their -enterprise. To their weapons, offensive and defensive, they added -hammers, tongs, ladders, and ropes, and left the studio, not after the -manner of an army corps, but two by two, at sufficiently long intervals -not to attract attention. It was not that a <i>coup de main</i> was a more -unfrequent occurrence in those days than an <i>émeute</i> or a change of -ministry in these days of ours; but, truth to say, it was not customary -to select the Sabbath day, or the hour of noon, for this sort of -diversion, and it required all Benvenuto's audacity, reinforced by his -consciousness that right was on his side, to venture upon such an -undertaking. -</p> - -<p> -One after another our heroes arrived at the Grands Augustins, and, -having given their weapons and tools into the charge of the sacristan, -who was a friend of Simon-le-Gaucher, they entered the church to listen -devoutly to the blessed sacrifice of the mass, and to implore God's help -in exterminating as many archers as possible. -</p> - -<p> -Truth compels us to state, however, that despite the gravity of the -impending crisis, despite his exemplary piety, and despite the -importance of the matters to which his prayers had reference, Benvenuto -had no sooner entered the church than his actions indicated that his -mind was upon something very different. His distraction was due to the -fact that just behind him, but on the other side of the nave, sat a young -girl reading from an illuminated missal,—a young girl so adorably -lovely that she might well have confused the thoughts of a saint, much -more of a sculptor. Under such circumstances the artist sadly interfered -with the devotions of the Christian. The gallant Cellini could not -resist the desire to have some one to join him in his admiration, and as -Catherine, who was at his left, would certainly have frowned upon his -inattention, he turned to Ascanio, who was at his right, with the -purpose of bidding him turn his eyes toward the lovely picture. -</p> - -<p> -But Ascanio's eyes needed no bidding in that direction; from the moment -that he entered the church his gaze was riveted upon the maiden, and his -eyes never left her face. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, seeing that he was absorbed in contemplation of the same -object, simply nudged him with his elbow. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Ascanio; "yes, it is Colombe. O master, is she not -beautiful?" -</p> - -<p> -It was indeed Colombe; her father, not anticipating an attack at high -noon, had given her permission, not without some reluctance, to go to -the Augustins to pray. Colombe, it is true, was very earnest in her -request, for it was the only consolation that remained to her. Dame -Perrine was by her side. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah çà! who is Colombe?" was Benvenuto's very natural query. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! yes, you do not know her. Colombe is the daughter of the provost, -Messire d'Estourville himself. Is she not beautiful?" he said again. -</p> - -<p> -"No," rejoined Benvenuto, "no, it's not Colombe. 'T is Hebe, Ascanio, -the goddess of youth; the Hebe whom my great King François has ordered -at my hands; the Hebe of whom I have dreamed, for whom I have prayed to -God, and who has come down from above in response to my prayer." -</p> - -<p> -Regardless of the incongruity of the idea of Hebe reading her missal, -and pouring out her heart in prayer, Benvenuto continued his hymn to -beauty simultaneously with his devotion and his military plans: the -goldsmith, the Catholic, and the strategist predominated in his mind by -turns. -</p> - -<p> -"Our Father who art in heaven—Look, Ascanio, what clean-cut, -expressive features!—Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth -as it is in heaven—How fascinatingly graceful the undulating -outline of her figure!—Give us this day our daily bread—And -thou sayest that such a lovely child is the daughter of that rascally -provost whom I propose to exterminate with my own hand?—And -forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against -us—Even though I have to burn down the Hôtel to do -it—Amen!" -</p> - -<p> -And Benvenuto crossed himself, having no doubt that he had just -concluded a most expressive rendering of the Lord's prayer. -</p> - -<p> -The mass came to an end while he was still absorbed in these -heterogeneous ideas, which might seem somewhat profane in the case of a -man of different temperament at a different epoch, but which were -altogether natural in so reckless a nature as Cellini's, at a time when -Clement Marot was putting the seven penitential psalms into gallant -verse. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as the <i>Ite, missa est</i>, was pronounced, Benvenuto and -Catherine exchanged a warm grasp of the hand. Then, while the girl, -wiping away a tear, remained on the spot where she was to await the -result of the combat, Cellini and Ascanio, their eyes still fixed upon -Colombe, who had not once looked up from her book, went with their -companions to take a drop of holy water; after which they separated, to -meet in a deserted <i>cul-de-sac</i> about half-way from the church to -the Hôtel de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -Catherine, in accordance with the prearranged plan, remained to the -celebration of high mass, as did Colombe and Dame Perrine, who had -simply arrived a little early, and had listened to the first service -only as a preparation for the more solemn ceremony to follow; nor had -they any reason to suspect that Benvenuto and his apprentices were upon -the point of cutting all the lines of communication with the house they -had so imprudently quitted. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap09"></a></h4> - -<h4>IX -<br /><br /> -THRUST AND PARRY</h4> - -<p> -The decisive moment had arrived. Benvenuto divided his men into two -detachments: one was to attempt, by every possible means, to force the -door of the Hôtel; the other was to cover the operations of the first, -and to keep from the walls, with arquebus shots or with their swords, -any of the besieged who might appear upon the battlements, or who might -attempt a sortie. Benvenuto took command of this last detachment in -person, and selected our friend Ascanio for his lieutenant. At the head -of the other he placed Hermann, the good-humored, gallant German, who -could flatten an iron bar with a hammer, and a man with his fist. He -chose for his second in command little Jehan, a rascal of fifteen years, -as active as a squirrel, mischievous as a monkey, and impudent as a -page, for whom the Goliath had conceived a very deep affection, for the -reason, doubtless, that the playful youngster was forever tormenting -him. Little Jehan proudly took his place beside his captain, to the -great chagrin of Pagolo, who in his double cuirass was not unlike the -statue of the Commandeur in the rigidity of his movements. -</p> - -<p> -Having thus made his dispositions, and reviewed his men and inspected -their weapons for the last time, Benvenuto addressed a few words to the -brave fellows who were about to face danger, perhaps death, in his -cause, with such good will. Then he grasped each man's hand, crossed -himself devoutly, and cried, "Forward!" -</p> - -<p> -The two parties at once took up their line of march, and, skirting the -Quai des Augustins, which was deserted at that hour in that spot, they -very soon arrived at the Hôtel de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon Benvenuto, unwilling to attack his enemy without first going -through all the formalities prescribed by custom in such cases, went -forward alone, waving a white handkerchief at the end of his sword, to -the same small door as before, and knocked. As before, he was questioned -through the barred opening as to the object of his visit. Benvenuto -repeated the same formula, saying that he had come to take possession of -the château given him by the king. But he was less fortunate than on -the former occasion, in that he was not honored with any reply at all. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon, facing the door, he exclaimed, in loud, distinct tones:— -</p> - -<p> -"To thee, Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, do I, Benvenuto -Cellini, goldsmith, sculptor, painter, and engineer, make known that his -Majesty François I. has in his good pleasure, as it was his right to -do, given to me absolutely the Grand-Nesle. As thou dost insolently -maintain thy hold upon it, and, in contravention of the royal will, dost -refuse to deliver it to me, I hereby declare to thee, Robert -d'Estourville, Seigneur de Villebon, Provost of Paris, that I have come -to take possession of the Grand-Nesle by force. Defend thyself -therefore, and, if evil comes of thy refusal, know that thou wilt be -held answerable therefor on earth and in heaven, before man and before -God." -</p> - -<p> -With that Benvenuto paused, and waited; but not a sound came from behind -the walls. He thereupon loaded his arquebus, and ordered his men to make -ready their weapons; then, assembling the leaders Hermann, Ascanio, and -Jehan in council, he said to them:— -</p> - -<p> -"You see, my children, that it is not possible to avoid the conflict. -Now it is for us to decide in what way we shall begin the attack." -</p> - -<p> -"I will break in the door," said Hermann, "and do you follow me in; -that's all." -</p> - -<p> -"With what will you do it, my Samson?" queried Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -Hermann looked about and saw on the quay a piece of timber which four -ordinary men would have found it difficult to lift. -</p> - -<p> -"With that beam," he said. -</p> - -<p> -He walked to where it lay, coolly picked it up, placed it under his arm, -and fixed it there like a rain in its socket, then returned to his -general. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile a crowd was beginning to collect, and Benvenuto, excited -thereby, was on the point of giving orders for the attack to begin, when -the captain of the king's archers, notified doubtless by some -conservative citizen, appeared at the corner of the street, accompanied -by five or six mounted men. This captain was a friend of the provost, -and although he knew perfectly well what was toward, he rode up to -Benvenuto, hoping to intimidate him doubtless, and while his people -checked Hermann's advance, he said:— -</p> - -<p> -"What is your desire, and why do you thus disturb the peace of the -city?" -</p> - -<p> -"The man who really disturbs the peace," replied Cellini, "is he who -refuses to obey the king's orders, not he who executes them." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean?" inquired the captain. -</p> - -<p> -"I mean that I hold a deed in due form, delivered to me by Messire de -Neufville, secretary of the royal treasury, wherein his Majesty grants -to me the Hôtel du Grand-Nesle. But the people who are in possession -refuse to recognize this deed, and thereby keep me from my own. Now in -one way or another, I have got it into my head that, since Scripture -says that we must render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, -Benvenuto Cellini is entitled to take what belongs to Benvenuto -Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes! and instead of preventing us from taking possession of our -property, you ought to lend us a hand," cried Pagolo. -</p> - -<p> -"Be silent, rascal," said Benvenuto, stamping angrily; "I have no need -of anybody's assistance. Dost thou understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are right in theory, but wrong in practice," rejoined the captain. -</p> - -<p> -"How may that be?" demanded Benvenuto, who felt that the blood was -beginning to rise in his cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -"You are right to wish to enter into possession of your property, but -you are wrong to undertake to do it in this way; for you will not gain -much, I promise you, fighting walls with your swords. If I were to give -you a little friendly advice, it would be to apply to the officers of -justice, and carry your grievance to the Provost of Paris, for example. -With that, adieu, and good luck to you!" -</p> - -<p> -And the captain of the king's archers rode away with a sneering laugh, -whereupon the crowd laughed too. -</p> - -<p> -"He laughs best who laughs last," said Benvenuto Cellini. "Forward, -Hermann, forward!" -</p> - -<p> -Hermann took up his joist once more, and while Cellini, Ascanio, and two -or three of the most skilful marksmen of the party, arquebus in hand, -stood in readiness to fire upon the wall, he rushed forward like a -living catapult against the small door, which they deemed to be easier -to burst in than the large one. -</p> - -<p> -But when he approached the wall a shower of stones began to rain down -upon him, although no defenders could be seen; for the provost had -ordered stones to be piled on top of the wall, and it was necessary only -to push lightly against the piles to send them down upon the heads of -the besiegers. -</p> - -<p> -The latter, being thus warmly received, recoiled a step or two, but, -although taken entirely by surprise by this alarming method of defence, -no one was wounded save Pagolo; he was so overburdened with his double -cuirass that he could not fall back so quickly as the others, and was -wounded in the heel. -</p> - -<p> -Hermann himself was no more disturbed by this shower of pebbles than an -oak tree by a hail-storm, and kept on to the door, where he at once set -to work and began to deal such blows against it that it soon became -evident that, stout as it was, it could not long withstand such -treatment. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto and his men meanwhile stood ready with their arquebuses to -fire upon anybody who might appear upon the wall, but no one appeared. -The Grand-Nesle seemed to be defended by an invisible garrison, and -Benvenuto raged inwardly at his inability to do anything to assist the -dauntless German. Suddenly he happened to glance at the old Tour de -Nesle, which stood by itself, as we have said, on the other side of the -quay, and bathed its feet in the Seine. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait, Hermann," cried Cellini, "wait, my good fellow; the Hôtel de -Nesle is ours as surely as my name is Benvenuto Cellini, and I am a -goldsmith by trade." -</p> - -<p> -Motioning to Ascanio and his two companions to follow him, he ran to the -tower, while Hermann, in obedience to his orders, stepped back out of -range of the stones, and awaited the fulfilment of the general's -promise, leaning upon his timber as a Swiss would lean upon his halberd. -</p> - -<p> -As Benvenuto anticipated, the provost had neglected to station a guard -in the old tower, so that he took possession of it unopposed, and, -running up the stairs, four at a leap, reached the summit in a moment; -the terrace overlooked the walls of the Grand-Nesle, as a steeple -overlooks a town, so that the besieged, who a moment before were -sheltered by their ramparts, suddenly found themselves entirely -unprotected. -</p> - -<p> -The report of an arquebus and the hissing of a bullet, followed by the -fall of an archer, warned the provost that the face of affairs was in -all probability about to change. -</p> - -<p> -At the same moment Hermann, realizing that he would now have a free -field, resumed his joist, and began to batter away again at the door, -which the besieged had strengthened somewhat during the momentary -suspension of hostilities. -</p> - -<p> -The crowd, with the marvellous instinct of self-possession always -noticeable in such bodies, realized that shooting was to form part of -the entertainment, and that spectators of the tragedy about to be -enacted were likely to be splashed with blood; and they no sooner heard -the report of Benvenuto's arquebus and the cry of the wounded archer -than they dispersed like a flock of pigeons. -</p> - -<p> -A single individual remained. -</p> - -<p> -This was no other than our friend, Jacques Aubry, the student, who had -kept the appointment made the preceding Sunday with Ascanio, in the hope -of enjoying his game of tennis. -</p> - -<p> -He had but to east a glance over the battle-field to understand what was -going on. -</p> - -<p> -It is not difficult to divine the determination arrived at by Jacques -Aubry, from what we have already seen of his character. To play at -tennis or with fire-arms was equally sport to him; and as he guessed -that the besiegers were most likely to be his friends, he enlisted under -their banner. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my boys," he said, walking up to the group which was waiting for -the door to be burst in to rush into the citadel, "we are having a bit -of a siege, are we? Peste! you're not attacking a cabin, and it's a -good deal of an undertaking for so few of you to try to take a strong -place like this." -</p> - -<p> -"We are not alone," said Pagolo, who was dressing his heel; and he -pointed to Benvenuto and his three or four companions, who were keeping -up such a well sustained fire upon the wall that the stones were falling -much less freely than at first. -</p> - -<p> -"I see, I see, Master Achilles," said Jacques Aubry, "for you are like -him in being wounded in the heel, in addition to a thousand other points -of similarity, no doubt. I see: yes, there's my friend Ascanio, and the -master doubtless, on top of the tower yonder." -</p> - -<p> -"Very true," said Pagolo. -</p> - -<p> -"And that fellow banging away at the door so lustily is one of you also, -isn't he?" -</p> - -<p> -"That's Hermann," said little Jehan proudly. -</p> - -<p> -"Peste! how he goes on!" said the student. "I must go and congratulate -him." -</p> - -<p> -He sauntered along with his hands in his pockets, regardless of the -bullets whistling above his head, to the brave German, who kept at his -task with the regularity of a machine. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you need anything, my dear Goliath?" said Jacques Aubry. "I am at -your service." -</p> - -<p> -"I am thirsty," replied Hermann, without pausing in his work. -</p> - -<p> -"Peste! I can well believe it; that's thirsty work you're doing there, -and I wish I had a cask of beer to offer you." -</p> - -<p> -"Water!" said Hermann, "water!" -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean that mild beverage will satisfy you? So be it. The -river is at hand, and you shall be served in a moment." -</p> - -<p> -Jacques ran to the river, filled his helmet with water, and took it to -the German. He leaned his beam against the wall, swallowed at a draught -all that the helmet contained, and handed it back to the student empty. -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks," he said, and, taking up the beam once more, he resumed his -work. -</p> - -<p> -An instant later he said, "Go and tell the master to be in readiness, -for we are getting on famously here." -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry started for the tower, and in a very few moments he stood -between Ascanio and Benvenuto, who were keeping up such a brisk and -effective fire that they had already shot down two or three men, and the -provost's archers were beginning to' think twice before showing -themselves upon the walls. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, as Hermann had sent word to Benvenuto, the door was beginning -to yield, and the provost resolved to make one last effort; he cheered -on his men to such good purpose that the stones began to rain down once -more. But two or three arquebus shots speedily calmed anew the ardor of -the besieged, who, despite all Messire Robert's promises and -remonstrances, coyly remained out of range. Thereupon Messire Robert -himself appeared, alone, carrying in his hands an enormous stone, and -made ready to hurl it down upon Hermann's head. -</p> - -<p> -But Benvenuto was not the man to allow his retainer to be taken by -surprise. As soon as he caught sight of the provost rashly venturing -where no one else ventured to go, he put his weapon to his shoulder; it -would have been all up with Messire Robert, had not Ascanio, just as -Cellini pulled the trigger, thrown up the barrel with a quick motion of -his hand accompanied by a sharp exclamation, so that the bullet whistled -harmlessly through the air. Ascanio had recognized Colombe's father. -</p> - -<p> -As Benvenuto turned furiously upon him to demand an explanation, the -stone, thrown with all the force the provost could impart to it, fell -full upon Hermann's helmet. Even the enormous strength of the modern -Titan was not equal to the task of sustaining such a blow; he relaxed -his hold of the timber, threw out his arms as if seeking something to -cling to, and, finding nothing within reach, fell to the ground -unconscious, with a terrible crash. -</p> - -<p> -Besieged and besiegers simultaneously set up a shout. Little Jehan and -three or four comrades who were near Hermann ran to him to carry him -away from the wall, and look to his injuries; but the large and small -doors of the Hôtel de Nesle opened at the same moment, and the provost, -at the head of twelve or fifteen men, darted upon the wounded man, -cutting and slashing vigorously, as did all his followers, so that Jehan -and his comrades were forced to retreat, although Benvenuto was shouting -to them to hold their ground, and that he would come and help them. The -provost seized the opportunity; eight of his men lifted Hermann, who was -still unconscious, by the arms and legs, and seven took up a position to -protect their retreat, so that, while Cellini, Ascanio, and their three -or four comrades on the terrace of the tower were hurrying down the four -or five flights of stairs which lay between them and the street, Hermann -and his bearers re-entered the Grand-Nesle. When Cellini, arquebus in -hand, appeared at the door of the tower, the door of the Hôtel was just -closing behind the last of the provost's men-at-arms. -</p> - -<p> -There was no disguising the fact that this was a check, and a serious -check at that. Cellini, Ascanio, and their comrades had, it is true, -disabled three or four of the besieged, but the loss of these three or -four men was much less disastrous to the provost, than was the loss of -Hermann to Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -The besiegers were dazed for a moment. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly Ascanio and Cellini looked at each other, as if by a common -impulse. -</p> - -<p> -"I have a plan," said Cellini, looking to the left, that is to say, -toward the city. -</p> - -<p> -"And so have I," Ascanio rejoined, looking to the right, that is to say, -toward the fields. -</p> - -<p> -"I have devised a plan to bring the garrison out of the castle." -</p> - -<p> -"And I a plan to open the door for you, if you do bring them out." -</p> - -<p> -"How many men do you need?" -</p> - -<p> -"A single one will suffice." -</p> - -<p> -"Choose." -</p> - -<p> -"Will you come with me, Jacques Aubry?" said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"To the end of the world, my dear fellow, to the end of the world. But I -shouldn't be sorry to have some sort of a weapon, the end of a sword for -instance, or a suspicion of a dagger—four or five inches of steel to -feel my way with if occasion requires." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, take Pagolo's sword," said Ascanio; "he can't use it, for he's -nursing his heel with his right hand and crossing himself with the -other." -</p> - -<p> -"And here's my own dagger to complete your outfit," said Cellini. -"Strike with it all you please, young man, but do not leave it in the -wound; it would be altogether too handsome a present to the wounded man, -for the hilt was carved by myself, and is worth a hundred golden crowns, -if it is worth a sou." -</p> - -<p> -"And the blade?" queried Jacques Aubry. "The hilt is very valuable, no -doubt, but at such a time the blade is of the greatest importance to my -mind." -</p> - -<p> -"The blade is priceless," rejoined Benvenuto; "with it I killed my -brother's murderer." -</p> - -<p> -"Bravo!" cried the student. "Come, Ascanio, let's be off." -</p> - -<p> -"I am ready," said Ascanio, winding five or six lengths of rope around -his body, and putting one of the ladders over his shoulder,—"I am -ready." -</p> - -<p> -The two venturesome youths walked along the quay a hundred yards or -thereabouts, then turned to the left, and disappeared around the corner -of the wall of the Grand-Nesle, behind the city moat. -</p> - -<p> -Let us leave Ascanio to carry out his scheme, and follow Cellini in the -development of his. -</p> - -<p> -The objects upon which his eyes rested, when, as we have said, he looked -toward the left, that is, in the direction of the city, were two women, -standing amid a group of timid spectators at some little -distance,—two women, in whom he thought he recognized the -provost's daughter and her governess. -</p> - -<p> -They were in fact Colombe and Dame Perrine, who, after hearing mass, set -out to return to the Petit-Nesle, and had come to a stand-still in the -crowd, trembling with alarm on account of what they had heard of the -siege that was in progress, and of what they saw with their own eyes. -</p> - -<p> -But Colombe no sooner perceived that there was a momentary cessation of -hostilities, which left the road open for her, than, heedless of the -entreaties of Dame Perrine, who begged her not to risk her safety in the -tumult, she went forward resolutely, impelled by her anxiety for her -father, and leaving Dame Perrine entirely free to follow her or to -remain where she was. As the duenna was really deeply attached to her -charge, she determined to accompany her, notwithstanding her fright. -</p> - -<p> -They left the group just as Ascanio and Jacques Aubry turned the corner -of the wall. -</p> - -<p> -Now Benvenuto Cellini's plan may be divined. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as he saw the two women coming toward him, he himself stepped -forward to meet them, and gallantly offered his arm to Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"Have no fear, madame," he said; "if you will deign to accept my arm I -will escort you to your father." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe hesitated, but Dame Perrine seized the arm on her side which -Benvenuto had forgotten to offer her. -</p> - -<p> -"Take his arm, my dear, take it," she said, "and let us accept this -noble knight's protection. Look, look! there is Monsieur le Prévôt, -leaning over the wall: he is anxious about us, no doubt." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe took Benvenuto's arm, and the three walked to within a step or -two of the door. -</p> - -<p> -There Cellini stopped, and said to the provost in a loud voice, making -sure that Colombe's arm and Dame Perrine's were safely within his -own:— -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur le Prévôt, your daughter who is here desires to enter; I -trust that you will open the door to her, unless you prefer to leave so -charming a hostage in your enemy's hands." -</p> - -<p> -Twenty times within two hours the provost, behind his ramparts, had -thought of his daughter, whom he had so imprudently allowed to go out, -being in considerable doubt as to the possibility of admitting her -again. He was hoping that she would be warned in time, and would be wise -enough to go to the Grand Châtelet and await results, when he saw -Cellini leave his companions and go to meet two women, in whom he -recognized Colombe and Dame Perrine. -</p> - -<p> -"The little fool!" he muttered beneath his breath; "but I can't leave -her in the midst of these miscreants." -</p> - -<p> -He opened the wicket, and showed his face behind the grating. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," said he, "what are your terms!" -</p> - -<p> -"These," said Benvenuto. "I will allow Madame Colombe and her governess -to enter, but only on condition that you come forth with all your men, -and we will then decide our dispute by a fair fight in the open. They -who remain in possession of the battle-field shall have the Hôtel de -Nesle; '<i>Vœ victis</i>!' as your compatriot Brennus said." -</p> - -<p> -"I accept," said the provost, "on one condition." -</p> - -<p> -"What is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"That you and your people stand back to give my daughter time to come in -and my archers time to go out." -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed," said Cellini; "but do you come out first, and let Madame -Colombe go in afterward; when she is safely inside, you will throw the -key over the wall to her, and thus leave yourself no opportunity to -retreat." -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed," said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"Your word?" -</p> - -<p> -"On the faith of a gentleman. And yours!" -</p> - -<p> -"On the faith of Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -These terms being agreed upon, the door opened, and the provost's -retainers filed out, and drew up in two rows before the door, Messire -d'Estourville at their head. They were nineteen in all. On the other -side, Benvenuto, without Ascanio, Hermann, and Jacques Aubry, had -but eight men remaining, and of these Simon-le-Gaucher was -wounded,—luckily in the right hand. But Benvenuto was not given to -counting his foes; it will be remembered that he did not hesitate to -attack Pompeo single-handed, although he was attended by a dozen sbirri. -He was only too glad, therefore, to abide by his agreement, for he -desired nothing so much as a general and decisive action. -</p> - -<p> -"You may go in now, madame," he said to his fair prisoner. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe flew across the space which lay between the two camps as swiftly -as the bird whose name she bore, and threw herself panting into the -provost's arms. -</p> - -<p> -"Father! father!" she cried, weeping, "in Heaven's name, do not expose -yourself!" -</p> - -<p> -"Go inside!" said the provost sharply, taking her by the arm, and -leading her to the door; "'t is your folly that reduces us to this -extremity." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe passed through the door, followed by Dame Perrine, to whom fear -had lent, if not wings, as to her lovely ward, at least legs, which she -thought she had lost ten years before. -</p> - -<p> -The provost closed the door behind them. -</p> - -<p> -"The key! the key!" cried Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -True to his promise, the provost took the key from the lock and threw it -over the wall, so that it fell into the courtyard. -</p> - -<p> -"And now," cried Benvenuto, rushing upon the provost and his troop, -"every man for himself, and God for us all!" -</p> - -<p> -A terrible struggle ensued, for before the provost's people had time to -lower their weapons and fire, Benvenuto with his seven workmen was in -their midst, slashing to right and left with the terrible sword which he -handled in such masterly fashion, and which, forged by his own hand, met -few coats of mail or breastplates able to resist it. The soldiers -thereupon cast aside their useless arquebuses, drew their swords, and -began to cut and thrust in return. But, despite their numbers and their -gallantry, in less time than it takes to write the words, they were -scattered all about the square, and two or three of the bravest, wounded -so severely that they could tight no longer, were forced to fall back. -</p> - -<p> -The provost saw the danger, and being a brave man, who in his time had -achieved some fame as a fighting man, he rushed forward to confront this -redoubtable Benvenuto Cellini, whom nobody seemed able to withstand. -</p> - -<p> -"To me!" he cried; "to me, infamous robber! and let us decide the -affair! What say you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! I could ask nothing better," replied Benvenuto. "If you will bid -your people not to interfere with us, I am your man." -</p> - -<p> -"Stand where you are!" said the provost to his men. -</p> - -<p> -"Let not one of you stir!" said Cellini to his. -</p> - -<p> -And the combatants on either side stood rooted in their places, silent -and motionless, like the Homeric warriors, who ceased their own fighting -in order to miss no part of a contest between two renowned chiefs. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon the provost and Cellini, each of whom already held his naked -sword in his hand, attacked each other at the same instant. -</p> - -<p> -The provost was a clever fencer, but Cellini's skill in that direction -was of the very first order. For ten or twelve years past the provost -had not once had occasion to draw his sword. On the other hand, during -those same ten or twelve years hardly a day had passed that Benvenuto -had not had or made an occasion to draw his. At the outset, therefore, -the provost, who had counted a little too much upon his own prowess, -became conscious of his enemy's superiority. -</p> - -<p> -Cellini, for his part, meeting with a resistance which he hardly -anticipated from a man of the robe, exerted all the energy, activity, -and cunning of which he was capable. It was a marvellous thing to watch -his sword, which, like the triple sting of a serpent, threatened the -head and the heart at the same instant, flying from place to place, and -hardly giving his adversary time to parry, much less to make a single -thrust. And so the provost, realizing that he had to do with one -stronger than himself, began to give ground, still defending himself, -however. Unluckily for Messire Robert, his back was toward the wall, so -that a very few steps brought him up against the door, for which he -instinctively aimed, although he was well aware that he had thrown the -key over the wall. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached that point he felt that he was lost, and like a wild -boar at bay, he summoned all his strength, and delivered three or four -lusty blows in such rapid succession that it was Benvenuto's turn to -parry: once indeed he was a second too late, and his adversary's blade -grazed his breast, despite the excellent coat of mail he wore. But, like -a wounded lion bent upon speedy vengeance, Benvenuto, the moment that he -felt the sharp point of the sword, gathered himself for a spring, and -would have run the provost through with a deadly lunge, had not the door -behind him suddenly given way at that moment, so that Messire -d'Estourville fell over backwards, and the sword came in contact with -the individual who had saved him by opening the door so unexpectedly. -</p> - -<p> -But the result was different from what might have been expected, for the -wounded man said nothing, while Benvenuto gave utterance to a terrible -cry. He had recognized Ascanio in the man whom he had unintentionally -wounded. He had no eyes for Hermann or for Jacques Aubry, who stood -behind his victim. Like a madman, he threw his arms around the young -man's neck, seeking the wound with his eyes and his hand and his mouth, -and crying:— -</p> - -<p> -"Slain, slain, slain by my hand! Ascanio, my child, I have killed thee!" -and roaring and weeping, as lions roar and weep. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Hermann extricated the provost, unharmed, from between -Ascanio's and Cellini's legs, and, taking him under his arm as he might -have done with a baby, deposited him in a little house where Raimbault -kept his gardening tools. He locked the door upon him, drew his sword, -and assumed a posture indicative of his purpose to defend his prisoner -against any one who might undertake to recapture him. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry made but one bound from the pavement to the top of the -wall, brandishing his dagger triumphantly, and shouting: "Blow, -trumpets, blow! the Grand-Nesle is ours!" -</p> - -<p> -How all these surprising things had come to pass the reader will -discover in the following chapter. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_4_1" id="Footnote_4_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_1"><span class="label">[4]</span></a>Left-handed.</p></div> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap10"></a></h4> - -<h4>X -<br /><br /> -OF THE ADVANTAGE OF FORTIFIED TOWNS</h4> - -<p> -The Hôtel de Nesle, on the side bounded by the Pré-aux-Clercs, was -doubly defended by its walls and by the city moat, so that on that side -it was considered impregnable. Now Ascanio very sensibly reflected that -it is seldom deemed necessary to guard what cannot be taken, and he -determined to make an attack upon the point where the besieged had not -thought of providing against one. -</p> - -<p> -With that object in view he set out with his friend Jacques Aubry, not -dreaming that, as he disappeared in one direction, Colombe would appear -in the other, and provide Benvenuto with a means of compelling the -provost to adopt a course which he was most reluctant to adopt. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio's scheme was very difficult of execution, and very dangerous in -its possible results. He proposed to cross a deep moat, scale a wall -twenty-five feet high, and at the end perhaps fall into the midst of the -enemy. Not till he arrived at the brink of the moat and of his -enterprise did he realize the difficulty of crossing the one and -carrying through the other; and then his determination, firm as it was -at the outset, wavered for an instant. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry halted some ten or twelve paces behind his friend, and -stood tranquilly gazing from the wall to the moat. Having measured them -both with his eye, he said:— -</p> - -<p> -"I beg you, my dear fellow, to have the kindness to inform me why you -bring me hither, unless it be to fish for frogs. Ah! yes,—you glance -at your ladder. Very good. I understand. But your ladder is only twelve -feet long, while the wall is twenty-five feet high and the moat ten -wide, which makes a difference of twenty-three feet, if my reckoning is -correct." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio was taken aback for a moment by this unanswerable arithmetic; -but suddenly he cried, striking his forehead with his hand:— -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! I have an idea! Look!" -</p> - -<p> -"Where?" -</p> - -<p> -"There!" said Ascanio; "there!" -</p> - -<p> -"That's not an idea you are pointing at," rejoined the student, "but an -oak tree." -</p> - -<p> -There was in truth a huge oak growing near the outer edge of the moat, -the upper branches of which gazed inquisitively over the wall of the -Séjour de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -"What? don't you understand?" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes! yes! I begin to see through it now. Yes, it's the very thing. I -see it all. The oak and the wall form part of the arch of a bridge which -your ladder will complete: but the abyss yawns beneath, my friend, and -an abyss full of mud. The devil! we mustn't forget that. I am wearing -my best clothes, and Simonne's husband is beginning to grumble about -giving me credit." -</p> - -<p> -"Help me to hoist the ladder," said Ascanio; "that's all I ask of you." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" said the student, "and I am to stay below! Thanks!" -</p> - -<p> -Each of them seized a branch, and they were soon in the tree. By their -united strength they succeeded in pulling the ladder up after them to -the top of the tree, where they lowered it like a drawbridge, and found -to their intense satisfaction that while one end rested firmly upon a -stout branch, the other end extended two or three feet beyond the wall. -</p> - -<p> -"But when we are upon the wall, what are we to do?" Aubry inquired. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, when we're upon the wall we will pull the ladder after us, and go -down by it." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good. There is only one trifling difficulty, and that is that the -wall is twenty-five feet high, and the ladder only twelve." -</p> - -<p> -"I have provided for that," said Ascanio, unwinding the rope from his -body. He then made one end fast to the trunk of the tree, and threw the -other over the wall. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! great man, I understand you," cried Aubry, "and I am proud and -happy to break my neck with you." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! what do you propose to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Go across," and Aubry prepared to cross the space that lay between them -and the wall. -</p> - -<p> -"No, no!" said Ascanio, "it is my place to go first." -</p> - -<p> -"Which finger is wet?" said Aubry, holding out his hand to his companion -with two fingers open and two closed. -</p> - -<p> -"So be it," said Ascanio, touching one of the two closed fingers. -</p> - -<p> -"You have won," said Aubry. "Go on: but keep cool, don't get excited." -</p> - -<p> -"Never fear." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio started out upon the flying bridge, while Jacques Aubry steadied -it by sitting upon the end; the ladder was a frail support, but the -daring youth was light. The student, hardly daring to breathe, thought -that he wavered for an instant; but he passed quickly over the narrow -space that separated him from the wall, and arrived there safe and -sound. He was still in very great danger if any of the besieged should -happen to espy him, but his anticipations were verified. -</p> - -<p> -"No one in sight," he shouted to his companion,—"no one!" -</p> - -<p> -"If that is so," said Aubry, "on with the dance!" -</p> - -<p> -And he ventured upon the narrow, trembling path, while Ascanio, putting -his whole weight upon the other end of the ladder, repaid the service -rendered him. As he was as light and as active as Ascanio, he was at his -side in an instant. -</p> - -<p> -Both of them sat astride the wall and drew the ladder across; they then -made fast the other end of the rope to it, and lowered it, swinging it -out so that the lower end would rest on the ground at a safe distance -from the wall; lastly, Ascanio, who had won the privilege of making -experiments, took the rope in both hands and slid down until his feet -rested upon the topmost round of the ladder; another second and he was -on the ground. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry followed him with similar good fortune, and the two -friends found themselves in the garden. -</p> - -<p> -It was plainly advisable for them to act at once. All their manœuvring -had taken considerable time, and Ascanio was fearful lest his absence -and Aubry's had been prejudicial to the master's interests. Drawing -their swords as they ran, they hastened to the door leading into the -first courtyard, where the garrison should be, assuming that they had -not changed their position. When they reached the door, Ascanio put his -eye to the keyhole, and saw that the courtyard was empty. -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto has succeeded," he cried; "the garrison has gone out. The -hotel is ours!" and he tried to open the door, which proved to be -locked. -</p> - -<p> -Both of the young men put forth all their strength in an effort to force -it. -</p> - -<p> -"This way! this way!" exclaimed a voice, which found an echo in -Ascanio's heart: "this way, Monsieur!" -</p> - -<p> -He turned and saw Colombe at a window on the ground floor. In two bounds -he was at her side. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" exclaimed Jacques Aubry, following him; "it seems that we have -friends in the citadel! Aha! you didn't tell me that, my boy!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! save my father, Monsieur Ascanio!" cried Colombe, without any -indication of surprise at the young man's appearance, and as if his -presence were the most natural thing in the world. "They are fighting -outside, do you know, and it's all for me, all on my account! O mon -Dieu! mon Dieu! grant that they kill not one another!" -</p> - -<p> -"Have no fear," said Ascanio, darting into the apartment, which had a -door leading into the little courtyard; "have no fear, I will answer for -everything!" -</p> - -<p> -"Have no fear," said Jacques Aubry, following at his heels; "have no -fear, we will answer for everything!" -</p> - -<p> -As he entered the room Ascanio heard his name called a second time, but -by a voice much less musical than the other. -</p> - -<p> -"Who calls me?" he said. -</p> - -<p> -"I, my young friend," the same voice replied, with a most pronounced -Teutonic accent. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu!" cried Aubry, "'t is our Goliath! What the deuce are you doing -in that hen-roost?" he added, looking through the window of the -gardener's shed, at which he saw a face which he recognized as -Hermann's. -</p> - -<p> -"I haf found myself here, but I know not how I haf here come. Draw the -bolt, that I may go and fight. Quick, quick, quick! my hand itches." -</p> - -<p> -"There you are!" said the student, rendering Hermann the service he -requested. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Ascanio was hurrying toward the door opening on the quay, -where he could hear a tremendous clashing of swords. When naught but the -thickness of the wood separated him from the combatants, he feared that, -if he showed himself at that moment, he might fall into the hands of his -enemies, so he first looked out through the grated wicket. There he saw -Cellini facing him, eager, excited and thirsting for the blood of his -antagonist, and realized that Messire Robert was lost. He picked up the -key, which lay on the ground, opened the door quickly, and thinking of -nothing save his promise to Colombe, received in his shoulder the blow -which, but for him, would inevitably have transfixed the provost. -</p> - -<p> -We have already witnessed the result of that occurrence. Benvenuto, in -desperation, threw himself upon Ascanio's neck; Hermann imprisoned the -provost in the same cage from which he had just been set free himself; -and Jacques Aubry, perched upon the rampart, flapped his wings and -crowed lustily in honor of the victory. -</p> - -<p> -The victory was in very truth complete; the provost's people, when their -master was made prisoner, did not even try to dispute it, but laid down -their arms. -</p> - -<p> -Accordingly the goldsmiths all entered the courtyard of the Grand-Nesle, -thenceforth their property, and secured the door behind them, leaving -the archers and sergeants outside. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, however, took no part in the latter proceedings; he still -held Ascanio in his arms, having removed his coat of mail, torn away his -doublet, and finally reached the wound, and was stanching the flow of -blood with his handkerchief. -</p> - -<p> -"My Ascanio, my child!" he said again and again; "wounded, wounded by -me! what will thy mother in heaven say? Forgive me, Stefana, forgive me! -Art thou in pain? tell me. Does my hand hurt thee? Will this accursed -blood never stop? A surgeon, quickly! Pray, will not some one call a -surgeon?" -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry ran out of the courtyard at the top of his speed. -</p> - -<p> -"It is nothing, dear master, it is nothing," said Ascanio; "a mere -scratch on my arm.—Don't feel so terribly, for I assure you it's -nothing." -</p> - -<p> -The surgeon, brought to the hotel by Jacques Aubry five minutes later, -confirmed Ascanio's assurance that the wound was not dangerous, although -quite deep, and at once set about bandaging it. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! what a weight you lift from my heart!" said Cellini. "Then I am not -thy murderer, dear child! But what is the matter, my Ascanio? thy pulse -is beating madly, and the blood rushing to thy face! O Monsieur le -Chirurgien, we must take him away from here,—the fever is laying -hold of him." -</p> - -<p> -"No, no, master," said Ascanio, "on the contrary I feel much better. -Leave me here, leave me here, I implore you!" -</p> - -<p> -"My father?" suddenly inquired a voice behind Benvenuto, which made him -jump; "what have you done with my father?" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto turned and saw Colombe, pale and rigid, seeking the provost -with her glance, as she asked for him with her voice. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! he is safe and sound, Mademoiselle! safe and sound, thanks be to -Heaven!" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks be to this poor boy, who received the blow intended for him," -said Benvenuto, "for you may truly say that this gallant fellow saved -your life, Monsieur le Prévôt.—How's this? where are you, Messire -Robert?" exclaimed Cellini, looking about for the provost, whose -disappearance he could not understand. -</p> - -<p> -"He is here, master," said Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -"Where, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Here, in the little prison." -</p> - -<p> -"O Monsieur Benvenuto!" cried Colombe, darting to the shed with a -gesture of mingled entreaty and reproach. -</p> - -<p> -"Open, Hermann," said Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -Hermann obeyed, and the provost appeared in the doorway, somewhat -humiliated by his misadventure. Colombe threw herself into his arms. -</p> - -<p> -"O father! father!" she cried; "are you not wounded? has no harm -befallen you?" and as she spoke she looked at Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"No," said the provost in his harsh voice, "no, thank Heaven! nothing -has happened to me." -</p> - -<p> -"And—and—" queried Colombe, in a faltering tone, "is it true -that this youth—" -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot deny that he arrived at just the right time." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," interposed Cellini, "yes, at the right time to receive the sword -thrust which I intended for you, Monsieur le Prévôt. Yes, Mademoiselle -Colombe, yes," he added, "you owe your father's life to this brave -fellow, and if Monsieur le Prévôt doesn't proclaim it from the -housetops, he is an ingrate as well as a liar." -</p> - -<p> -"I trust that his rescuer will not have to pay too dearly for his -gallantry," rejoined Colombe, blushing at her own audacity. -</p> - -<p> -"O Mademoiselle!" cried Ascanio, "I would gladly have shed all my blood -in such a cause!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well, Messire le Prévôt," said Cellini, "see what tender -emotions you have caused to spring up. But Ascanio may not be able to -bear the excitement. The bandage is in place, and it would be well for -him, I think, to take a little rest now." -</p> - -<p> -What Benvenuto had said to the provost of the service rendered him by -the wounded man was no more than the truth; and as every truth has an -innate strength of its own, the provost in his heart could but admit -that he owed his life to Ascanio. He therefore put a good face on the -matter, and approached the wounded man, saying:— -</p> - -<p> -"Young man, an apartment in my hotel is at your service." -</p> - -<p> -"In your hotel, Messire Robert!" exclaimed Cellini, with a laugh, for -his good humor returned as his anxiety on Ascanio's account vanished; -"in your hotel? Why, do you really wish to begin the battle over again?" -</p> - -<p> -"What!" cried the provost, "do you claim the right to turn my daughter -and myself out of doors?" -</p> - -<p> -"By no means, Messire. You now occupy the Petit-Nesle. Very good! keep -the Petit-Nesle, and let us live on such terms as good neighbors should. -Be good enough, Messire, to make no opposition to Ascanio's being at -once made comfortable in the Grand-Nesle, where we will join him this -evening. Thereafter, if you prefer war—" -</p> - -<p> -"O father!" cried Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"No! peace!" said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"There can be no peace without conditions, Monsieur le Prévôt. Do me -the honor to accompany me to the Grand-Nesle, or the favor to receive me -at the Petit, and we will draw up our treaty." -</p> - -<p> -"I will go with you, Monsieur," said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"So be it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle," said D'Estourville then to his daughter, "be good enough -to return to your apartments and await my return there." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, notwithstanding the harsh tone in which this command was -uttered, presented her forehead to her father to kiss, and with a -courtesy addressed to everybody present, so that Ascanio might come in -for a share of it, she withdrew. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio followed her with his eyes until she disappeared. As there was -nothing further to detain him in the courtyard, he asked to be taken -inside. Hermann thereupon took him under the arms as if he were a child, -and transported him to the Grand-Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -"On my word, Messire Robert," said Benvenuto, who had also looked after -the maiden while she was in sight, "on my word! you were very judicious -to send my late prisoner away, and I thank you for the precaution,—on -my honor I do. I am free to say that Mademoiselle Colombe's presence -might have been prejudicial to my interests by making me too weak, and -too willing to forget that I am a victor, to remember simply that I am -an artist,—that is to say, a lover of every perfect form and of all -divine beauty." -</p> - -<p> -Messire d'Estourville acknowledged the compliment by a decidedly -ungracious contortion of his features; he followed the goldsmith, -however, without outwardly manifesting his ill-humor, but mumbling dire -threats beneath his breath. Cellini, to put the finishing touch to his -mortification, begged him to go over his new abode with him. The -invitation was conveyed in such courteous terms that it was impossible -to decline. The provost therefore accompanied his neighbor, who showed -him no mercy, and left not a corner of the garden nor a room in the -château unvisited. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! this is truly magnificent," said Benvenuto when they had finished -the tour of inspection, during which they were actuated by widely -opposed emotions. "Now, Monsieur le Prévôt, I can understand and -excuse your repugnance to give up this property; but I need not say that -you will be most welcome whenever you may choose, as to-day, to do me -the honor of calling upon me in my poor abode." -</p> - -<p> -"You forget, Monsieur, that I am here to-day for no other purpose than -to listen to your conditions and state my own. I am ready to listen." -</p> - -<p> -"How so, Messire Robert? On the contrary, I am at your service. But if -you choose to allow me first to make known my wishes to you, you will -then be free to give expression to your own." -</p> - -<p> -"Say on." -</p> - -<p> -"First of all, the one essential clause." -</p> - -<p> -"What is that?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is this:— -</p> - -<p> -"ARTICLE I.—Messire Robert d'Estourville doth concede Benvenuto -Cellini's right to the property called the Grand-Nesle, doth freely -abandon it to him, and doth renounce all claim thereto forever, for -himself and his heirs." -</p> - -<p> -"Accepted," said the provost. "But if it should please the king to take -from you what he has now taken from me, and to give to some other what -he has now given to you, I am not to be held responsible." -</p> - -<p> -"Ouais!" said Cellini, "there's some mischievous mental reservation -hidden in that, Monsieur le Prévôt. But no matter; I shall know how to -retain what I have won. Let us pass to the next." -</p> - -<p> -"'T is my turn," said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"That is no more than fair." -</p> - -<p> -"ARTICLE II.—Benvenuto Cellini agrees to make no attack upon the -Petit-Nesle, which is and is to remain the property of Robert -d'Estourville; furthermore, he will not even attempt to gain a footing -there as a neighbor, and under the guise of friendship." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good," said Benvenuto, "although the clause is by no means -conceived in kindness; but if the door is thrown open to me I shall not -show myself so devoid of courtesy as to refuse to enter." -</p> - -<p> -"I will give orders to avert that possibility," retorted the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us to the next." -</p> - -<p> -"I continue:— -</p> - -<p> -"ARTICLE III.—The first courtyard, between the Grand and Petit -Nesles, shall be common to both estates." -</p> - -<p> -"That is quite right," said Benvenuto, "and you will do me the justice -to believe that if Mademoiselle Colombe desires to go out, I shall not -keep her a prisoner." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! never fear: my daughter will go in and out by a door which I -undertake to have cut in the wall. I simply wish to make sure of an -entrance for carriages and wagons." -</p> - -<p> -"Is that all?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," replied Messire Robert. "Apropos," he added, "I trust that you -will allow me to remove my furniture." -</p> - -<p> -"That is no more than fair. Your furniture is yours, as the Grand-Nesle -is mine. Now, Messire le Prévôt, let us add one more clause to the -treaty,—a clause purely benevolent in its purpose." -</p> - -<p> -"State it." -</p> - -<p> -"ARTICLE IV. and last.—Messire Robert d'Estourville and Benvenuto -Cellini lay aside all ill will, and loyally and sincerely agree to abide -in peace." -</p> - -<p> -"I accept the article, but only in so far as it does not bind me to bear -aid to you against those who may attack you. I agree to do nothing to -injure you, but I do not agree to make myself agreeable to you." -</p> - -<p> -"As to that, Monsieur le Prévôt, you know perfectly well that I can -defend myself alone, do you not? If there is no objection now on your -part," added Cellini, passing the pen to him, "sign, Monsieur le -Prévôt, sign." "I will sign," said the provost, suiting the action to -the word, and each of the contracting parties retained a copy of the -treaty. -</p> - -<p> -This formality at an end, Messire d'Estourville returned to the -Petit-Nesle, being in great haste to scold poor Colombe for her rash -expedition. Colombe hung her head, and let him say what he chose, not -hearing a single word of his reproaches; for during all the time that -they endured the girl was engrossed by a single longing, to ask her -father for news of Ascanio. But it was useless: try as hard as she -would, she could not force the wounded youth's name beyond her lips. -</p> - -<p> -While these things were taking place on one side of the wall, on the -other side, Catherine, who had been sent for from the church, made her -entry into the Grand-Nesle; the fascinating madcap threw herself into -Benvenuto's arms, pressed Ascanio's hand, complimented Hermann, made -sport of Pagolo, laughed, wept, sang, asked questions, all in the same -breath. She had suffered terribly, for the reports of fire-arms had -reached her ears and interrupted her prayers again and again. But now -everything was all right, everybody had come out safe and sound from the -battle, save four dead and three wounded men, and Scozzone's high -spirits did homage to both victory and victors. -</p> - -<p> -When the uproar caused by Catherine's arrival had subsided in some -measure, Ascanio remembered the motive which brought the student to the -spot so opportunely. He turned to Benvenuto and said:— -</p> - -<p> -"Master, my comrade Jacques Aubry and I were to try our hands at a game -of tennis to-day. In good sooth, I am hardly in condition to be his -partner, as our friend Hermann says. He has assisted us so gallantly in -our undertaking, however, that I venture to beg you to take my place." -</p> - -<p> -"With all my heart," said Benvenuto; "but you must look to yourself, -Master Jacques Aubry." -</p> - -<p> -"I will try, I will try, Messire." -</p> - -<p> -"We shall sup together afterward, and you know that the victor will be -expected to drink two bottles more than his vanquished opponent." -</p> - -<p> -"Which means that I shall be carried home dead drunk, Master Benvenuto. -<i>Vive la joie!</i> this suits me. Ah! the devil! there's Simonne waiting -for me, too! Pshaw! I had to wait for her last Sunday. It's her turn -to-day, so much the worse for her." -</p> - -<p> -With that the two seized balls and rackets, and hied them to the garden. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap11"></a></h4> - -<h4>XI -<br /><br /> -OWLS, MAGPIES, AND NIGHTINGALES</h4> - -<p> -As this was the blessed Sabbath day, Benvenuto did nothing more than -play tennis, rest after playing, and inspect his new property. But on -the following day the work of moving began, and was fully completed two -days later, by virtue of the assistance of his new companions. On the -third day Benvenuto resumed his modelling as calmly as if nothing had -happened. -</p> - -<p> -When the provost realized that he was definitively vanquished, when he -learned that Benvenuto's studio, tools, and workmen were actually -installed at the Grand-Nesle, rage took possession of him once more, and -he began to plot and plan for vengeance. He was in one of his most -wrathful moments when the Vicomte de Marmagne surprised him on the -morning of this same third day, Wednesday. Marmagne could not resist the -longing to gratify his vanity by triumphing over the sorrows and -reverses of his friends, as every man who is a coward and an idiot loves -to do. -</p> - -<p> -"Well!" he said, "I told you so, my dear Provost." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! is it you, Viscount? Good morning." -</p> - -<p> -"Well! was I right or wrong?" -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! right. Are you well?" -</p> - -<p> -"At all events I have no reason to reproach myself in this accursed -business. I gave you sufficient warning." -</p> - -<p> -"Has the king returned to the Louvre?" -</p> - -<p> -"'Nonsense!' you said; 'a workman, a nobody, a fine sight it will be!' -You have seen it, my poor friend." -</p> - -<p> -"I asked you if his Majesty has returned from Fontainebleau?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, and he keenly regrets not having reached Paris on Sunday, in order -to look on from one of his towers at his goldsmith's victory over his -provost." -</p> - -<p> -"What is said at court?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, they say that you were thoroughly whipped." -</p> - -<p> -"Hum!" said the provost, who began to be annoyed by this desultory -conversation. -</p> - -<p> -"How was it? Did he really give you such an ignominious whipping?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why—" -</p> - -<p> -"He killed two of your men, did he not?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think so." -</p> - -<p> -"If you wish to replace them, I have two Italian bravos, consummate -fighting-men, who are quite at your service. You will have to pay them -well, but they are sure men." -</p> - -<p> -"We shall see: I won't say no. If not for myself, I may require them for -my son-in-law, Comte d'Orbec." -</p> - -<p> -"Whatever they may say, I cannot believe that this Benvenuto cudgelled -you personally." -</p> - -<p> -"Who says so?" -</p> - -<p> -"Everybody. Some are indignant, like myself; others laugh, like the -king." -</p> - -<p> -"Enough! we have not seen the end of this affair." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! you were very wrong to compromise yourself with such a clown, and -for such a paltry affair!" -</p> - -<p> -"I shall fight for my honor henceforth." -</p> - -<p> -"If there had been a woman in the affair, why, you might properly have -drawn your sword against such people: but for a mere place to sleep -in—" -</p> - -<p> -"The Hôtel de Nesle is a place for princes to sleep in." -</p> - -<p> -"Agreed; but even so, think of exposing yourself for such a matter to be -chastised by a blackguard!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! I have an idea, Marmagne," said the provost. "Parbleu! you are so -devoted to me that I long to render you a friendly service, and I am -delighted to have the opportunity now. For a nobleman, and secretary to -the king, you are wretchedly located on Rue de la Huchette, my dear -Viscount. Now I recently requested for a friend of mine, from the -Duchesse d'Etampes, who refuses nothing that I ask, apartments in such -one of the king's palaces as my friend might select. I obtained the -privilege for him, not without difficulty, but it so happens that he has -been called to Spain on urgent business. I have therefore at my disposal -the document signed by the king containing this grant of apartments. I -cannot make use of it myself; will you have it? I should be happy to -acknowledge thus your services and your generous friendship." -</p> - -<p> -"Dear D'Estourville, how can I ever repay you? It is quite true that I -am living in very unsuitable quarters, and I have complained to the king -a score of times." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall insist upon one condition." -</p> - -<p> -"What is that?" -</p> - -<p> -"That, inasmuch as you are at liberty to take your choice among all the -royal hotels, you will choose—" -</p> - -<p> -"Go on, I am waiting." -</p> - -<p> -"The Hôtel de Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! you were laying a trap for me." -</p> - -<p> -"Not at all; and to show you that I am speaking seriously, here is the -document, duly signed by his Majesty, with the necessary blanks for the -name of the beneficiary, and of the place selected. I will write the -Hôtel du Grand-Nesle, and leave you to insert such names as you -choose." -</p> - -<p> -"But this damned Benvenuto?" -</p> - -<p> -"Is entirely off his guard, relying upon a treaty we entered into and -signed. Whoever cares to enter will find the doors open, and if on a -Sunday he will find the rooms empty. In any event, it's not a matter of -turning Benvenuto out, but simply of sharing the Grand-Nesle with him; -for it is quite large enough for three or four families. Benvenuto will -hear reason.—Well! what are you doing now?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am writing my names and titles in the grant. Do you see?" -</p> - -<p> -"Beware! Benvenuto is more to be feared than you think." -</p> - -<p> -"Bah! I will take my two fire-eaters and surprise him some Sunday." -</p> - -<p> -"What! compromise yourself with a clown for such a trifling matter?" -</p> - -<p> -"A victor is always right; and then, too, I shall be avenging a friend." -</p> - -<p> -"Good luck to you then; I have given you fair warning, Marmagne." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks twice over,—once for the gift and once for the warning." -</p> - -<p> -And Marmagne, delighted beyond measure, thrust the precious paper in his -pocket, and set out in all haste to make sure of his two bravos. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good!" said Messire d'Estourville, rubbing his hands and looking -after him. "Go on, Viscount, and one of two things will come of -it,—either you will avenge me for Benvenuto's victory, or Benvenuto -will avenge me for your sarcasm, in any case, I shall be the gainer. I -make my enemies of each other; let them fight and kill; I will -applaud every blow on either side, for all will be equally gratifying to -me." -</p> - -<p> -Let us now cross the Seine and look in upon the occupants of the -Grand-Nesle, and see how they were employing their time, pending the -results of the provost's militant hatred. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, in the tranquil confidence of conscious strength, had quietly -resumed the work he had in hand, without suspecting or caring for -Messire d'Estourville's animosity. His day was divided thus. He rose at -daybreak, and went at once to a small, isolated room that he had -discovered in the garden, above the foundry, with a window from which -one could look obliquely into the flower garden of the Petit-Nesle; -there he worked during the forenoon upon the model of a small statue of -Hebe. After dinner, that is to say, at one o'clock in the afternoon, he -went to the studio and worked at his Jupiter; in the evening, for -relaxation, he played a game of tennis, or went for a walk. -</p> - -<p> -Now let us see how Catherine employed her time. She sewed and sang and -ran hither and thither, instinct with joyous life, much more at her ease -in the Grand-Nesle than at the Cardinal of Ferrara's palace. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, whose wound made it impossible for him to work, did not find -the time irksome, notwithstanding the activity of his mind, for he was -dreaming. -</p> - -<p> -If now, availing ourselves of the thief's privilege of climbing walls, -we enter the Petit-Nesle, this is what we shall see there. In the first -place, Colombe, in her chamber, dreaming like Ascanio. We beg leave to -pause here for the moment; all that we can say is, that, while Ascanio's -dreams were rose-colored, poor Colombe's were black as night. And then -here is Dame Perrine just setting out to market, and we must, if you -please, follow her for an instant. -</p> - -<p> -For a long time—so at least it seems to us—we have lost sight -of the good dame; indeed, it must be said that courage was not her -predominating virtue, and amid the perilous encounters we have described -she had purposely kept herself out of sight. But when peace began to -bloom once more, the roses reappeared in her cheeks, and as Benvenuto -resumed his artistic labors she peaceably resumed her joyous humor, her -chattering, her gossip's inquisitiveness,—in a word, the practice of -all the excellent housewifely qualities. -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine on her way to market was obliged to pass across the common -courtyard, for the new door for the Petit-Nesle was not yet made. Now it -happened, by the merest chance, that Ruperta, Benvenuto's old -maid-servant, was setting out at precisely the same moment to purchase -her master's dinner. These two estimable individuals were much too well -suited to each other to share the antipathies of their masters; so they -walked along together on the best possible terms, and, as talking -shortens the longest road by half, they talked. -</p> - -<p> -Ruperta began by inquiring of Dame Perrine the price of various -articles, and the names of the dealers in the quarter: from that they -passed to more interesting subjects. -</p> - -<p> -"Is your master such a terrible man?" queried Dame Perrine. -</p> - -<p> -"Terrible! when you don't offend him he is as gentle as a Jesus; but, -dame! when one doesn't do as he wishes, I must say that he's not very -agreeable. He is fond, oh! very fond, of having his own way. That's his -mania; and when he once gets a thing in his head, all the five hundred -thousand devils in hell can't drive if out. But you can lead him like a -child by pretending to obey him, and it's very pleasant to hear him -talk. You should hear him say to me, 'Dame Ruperta,' (he calls me -Ruperta in his strange pronunciation, although my real name is Ruperte, -at your service,) 'Dame Ruperta, this is an excellent leg of mutton, and -done to a turn; Dame Ruperta, your beans are seasoned most triumphantly; -Dame Ruperta, I look upon you as the queen of governesses,'—and all -this so winningly that it touches one to the heart." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>À la bonne heure!</i> But he kills people, they say." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh yes! when he's crossed, he kills very handily. It's a custom of his -country; but it's only when he's attacked, and then only in -self-defence. Otherwise he is very light-hearted and prepossessing." -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't seen him myself. He has red hair, hasn't he?" -</p> - -<p> -"No indeed! His hair is as black as yours and mine,—as mine was, that -is. All! you have never seen him? Well, just come in casually some time -to borrow something, and I'll show him to you. He's a handsome man, and -would make a superb archer." -</p> - -<p> -"Apropos of handsome men, how is our comely youth to-day? The wounded -man, I mean, the attractive young apprentice who received such a -terrible wound in saving the provost's life." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio? Pray do you know him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Do I know him! He promised my young mistress Colombe and myself to show -us his jewels. Remind him of it, if you please, my dear madame. But all -this doesn't answer my question, and Colombe will be very glad to know -that her father's savior is out of danger." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! you can tell her that he is doing very well. He got up just now. -But the surgeon has forbidden his leaving his room, although I think a -breath of fresh air would do him a world of good. It's out of the -question, though, in this burning sun. Your Grand-Nesle garden is a -veritable desert. Not a shaded spot anywhere; no vegetation but nettles -and briers, and four or five leafless trees. It's enormous, but very -unpleasant to walk in. Our master consoles himself with tennis, but poor -Ascanio isn't well enough yet to hold a racket, and must be bored to death. -He's so active, the dear boy,—I speak of him in that way because -he's my favorite, and is always courteous to his ciders. He's not like -that bear of a Pagolo, or Catherine the giddy-pate." -</p> - -<p> -"And you say that the poor fellow—" -</p> - -<p> -"Must be eating his heart out with having to pass whole days on a couch -in his bedroom." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed kind-hearted Dame Perrine, "pray tell the poor boy -to come over to the Petit-Nesle, where there is such beautiful shade. I -will gladly admit him, although Messire le Prévôt has expressly -forbidden it. Why, it would be most virtuous in me to disobey him, in -order to benefit the man who saved his life. And you talk of ennui! We -are the ones who are drying up with it. The comely apprentice will -divert us; he will tell us tales of his Italy, and show us his necklaces -and bracelets, and chatter with Colombe. Young folks like to be together -and prattle, and they languish in solitude. So it's agreed, isn't it? -Just tell your Benjamin that he's at liberty to come and walk in our -garden whenever he pleases, provided he comes alone, or with you, Dame -Ruperte, to give him your arm. Knock four times, the first three gently -and the last louder: I shall know what it means, and I will come and -open the door." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks for Ascanio and myself; I will not fail to tell him of your -amiable offer, and he will not fail to avail himself of it." -</p> - -<p> -"I am delighted to think so, Dame Ruperte." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Au revoir</i>, Dame Perrine! Charmed to have made the acquaintance of -such an estimable person." -</p> - -<p> -"The same to you, Dame Ruperte." -</p> - -<p> -The two gossips bowed low to each other, and parted with mutual -satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -The gardens of the Séjour de Nesle were in truth, as Ruperta said, dry -and scorched on one side of the wall, cool and shady as a forest on the -other. The provost's miserly instinct led him to leave the garden of the -Grand-Nesle uncared for, as the cost of keeping it in condition would -have been considerable, and he was not sufficiently sure of his title to -renew, perhaps for the benefit of his successor, the trees which he had -lost no time in cutting down as soon as he took possession. His -daughter's presence at the Petit-Nesle accounted for his leaving the -shady thickets there untouched, as the poor child had no other -recreation than to sit beneath them. Raimbault and his two assistants -sufficed to keep Colombe's garden in order, and even to embellish it -somewhat. -</p> - -<p> -It was laid out and planted in extremely good taste. At the back was the -kitchen garden, Dame Perrine's kingdom; along the wall dividing it from -the Grand-Nesle Colombe had her flower garden, called by Dame Perrine -the Morning Avenue, because the sun's early rays fell full upon it, and -sunrise was the time ordinarily selected by Colombe to water her -marguerites and roses. Let us note, in passing, that from the room over -the foundry in the Grand-Nesle one could see every movement of the -lovely gardener without being seen. Following out Dame Perrine's -geographical nomenclature, there was the Noonday Avenue, terminated by a -thicket where Colombe loved to sit, and read or embroider, during the -beat of the day. At the other end of the garden was the Evening Avenue, -planted with a triple row of lindens, which made it delightfully cool -and fresh: it was here that Colombe was accustomed to walk after supper. -</p> - -<p> -This last named avenue Dame Perrine had in mind as a spot well adapted -to hasten the convalescence of the wounded Ascanio. She was very -careful, however, to say nothing to Colombe of her charitable -intentions. It was possible that she would be too obedient to her -father's commands, and would refuse to concur in her governess's open -defiance of them. And in that case what would Dame Ruperta think of her -neighbor's authority and influence? No; since she had gone so far, -perhaps a little recklessly, she must go on to the end. Indeed, the good -woman's offence was excusable when we reflect that she had no one but -Colombe to whom she could speak from morning till night, and more often -than not Colombe was so deeply absorbed in her own thoughts that she did -not reply. -</p> - -<p> -The reader will readily understand Ascanio's ecstasy when he learned -that paradise was open to him, and how fervently he blessed Ruperta. He -insisted upon availing himself of his good fortune on the instant, and -Ruperta had all the difficulty in the world in persuading him that he -ought at least to wait until evening. He had every reason to believe -that Dame Perrine's suggestion was made with Colombe's sanction, and -that thought made him mad with joy. With how great impatience, -therefore, mingled with vague alarm, did he count the dragging hours! At -last, at last, the clock struck five. The apprentices left the studio. -Benvenuto had been away since noon, and was believed to have gone to the -Louvre. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon Ruperta said solemnly to the apprentice, who gazed at her as -she had not been gazed at for many a year:— -</p> - -<p> -"Now that the time has come, follow me, young man." -</p> - -<p> -They crossed the courtyard together, and she knocked four times at the -door leading into the precincts of the Petit-Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -"Say nothing of this to the master, good Ruperta," said Ascanio, who -knew that Cellini was a good deal of a scoffer and sceptic in the matter -of love, and did not choose to have his pure flame profaned by his -witticisms. -</p> - -<p> -Ruperta was on the point of making inquiries as to the reason for this -injunction, which it would be hard for her to obey, when the door opened -and Dame Perrine appeared. -</p> - -<p> -"Come in, my fine fellow," she said. "How are you to-day? Pallor becomes -you, do you know: it's a pleasure to look at you. Come in also, Dame -Ruperta: take the path to the left, young man, Colombe is just coming -down to the garden; it's the time when she always walks. Do you try and -persuade her not to scold me too severely for admitting you." -</p> - -<p> -"What!" cried Ascanio,—"Mademoiselle Colombe doesn't know—" -</p> - -<p> -"No indeed! Do you think she would have consented to disobey her father? -I have brought her up on correct principles. I disobeyed for both, -myself. Faith! I don't care! we can't always live like hermits. -Raimbault won't see anything, or, if he does, I have a way to make him -hold his tongue; if worse comes to worst, it won't be the first time I -have held my own against Monsieur le Prévôt!" -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine was very loquacious concerning her master, but Ruperta -alone followed her in what she said. Ascanio was standing still, -listening to nothing save the beating of Ids heart. He did, however, -hear these words, let fall by Dame Perrine as they moved away:— -</p> - -<p> -"This is the path where Colombe walks every evening, and she will soon -be here without doubt. You see that the sun won't reach you here, my -gallant invalid." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio expressed his thanks with a gesture, and walked forward a few -steps, once more immersed in his reverie, and anticipating what was to -come with mingled anxiety and impatience. He heard Dame Perrine say to -Ruperta as they walked along,— -</p> - -<p> -"This is Colombe's favorite bench." -</p> - -<p> -And upon that he left the two gossips to continue their walk and their -conversation, and sat softly down without a word upon the sacred seat. -</p> - -<p> -What was his purpose? whither was he going? He had no idea. He sought -Colombe because she was young and fair, and he was young and fair. No -ambitious thought had ever entered his head in connection with her. To -be near her was his only desire: for the rest he put his trust in God, -or, rather, he did not look so far into the future. There is no -to-morrow in love. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, for her part, had thought more than once, and in spite of -herself, of the young stranger who had appeared to her in her loneliness -as Gabriel appeared to Mary. To see him once more had been from the -first the secret desire of this child, who had hitherto had no desire. -But, being abandoned by an inconsiderate father to the guardianship of -her own virtue, she was too high-minded not to deal with herself with -the severity which noble souls never think themselves free to dispense -with unless their will is fettered. She therefore bravely put aside her -thoughts of Ascanio, and yet those thoughts persisted in forcing a way -through the triple ramparts Colombe had built around her heart, more -easily than Ascanio made his way through the wall of the Grand-Nesle. So -it was that Colombe had passed the three or four days since the -engagement, alternating between the fear of not seeing Ascanio again, -and alarm at the thought of being in his presence. Her only consolation -was to dream of him as she sat at her work or walked in the garden. -During the day she shut herself up in her own room, to the despair of -Dame Perrine, who was thereby doomed to carry on a perpetual monologue -in the abyss of her own thoughts. As soon as the intense heat of the day -had gone by, she would go down to the cool, shady path, poetically -christened by Dame Perrine the Evening Avenue, and there, sitting on the -bench where Ascanio now sat, she would allow the sun to set and the -stars to rise, listening and replying to her thoughts, until Dame -Perrine came to tell her that it was time to retire. -</p> - -<p> -At the usual hour, then, the young man saw Colombe suddenly appear, book -in hand, at the end of the path where he was sitting. She was reading -the "Lives of the Saints," a dangerous romance of faith and love, well -adapted, perhaps, to prepare one for the cruel sufferings of life, but -not, surely, for the cold realities of the world. Colombe did not see -Ascanio at first, but started back in surprise when she saw a strange -woman with Dame Perrine. At that decisive moment, Dame Perrine, like a -determined general, plunged boldly to the heart of the question. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear Colombe," she said, "I know your kind heart so well that I didn't -think I needed your express sanction to allow a poor wounded youth, who -received his wound in your father's cause, to come and take the air -under these trees. You know there is no shade at the Grand-Nesle, and -the surgeon won't answer for his life unless he can walk an hour every -day." -</p> - -<p> -While she was uttering this well intentioned but barefaced falsehood, -Colombe suddenly spied Ascanio, and a vivid flush suffused her cheeks. -The apprentice, meanwhile, in the presence of Colombe, could hardly -summon strength to rise to his feet. -</p> - -<p> -"It wasn't my sanction that was necessary, Dame Perrine," said the -maiden at last, "but my father's." -</p> - -<p> -As she said these words, sadly but firmly, Colombe reached the stone -bench upon which Ascanio had been sitting. -</p> - -<p> -He overheard her, and said, with clasped hands:— -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me, Madame. I thought—I hoped that your kindness had -ratified Dame Perrine's courteous offer; but if it is not so," he -continued, in a tone of great gentleness, not unmixed with pride, "I beg -you to excuse my involuntary boldness, and I will withdraw at once." -</p> - -<p> -"But it is not for me to decide," replied Colombe hastily, deeply moved. -"I am not mistress here. Remain to-day at all events, even if my -father's prohibition was meant to extend to him who saved his life: -remain, Monsieur, if for nothing else than to receive my thanks." -</p> - -<p> -"O Madame!" murmured Ascanio, "it is for me to thank you, and I do so -from the bottom of my heart. But by remaining shall I not interfere with -your walk? The place I have taken, too, is ill chosen." -</p> - -<p> -"Not at all," rejoined Colombe mechanically, without apparently paying -attention, so embarrassed was she, to the other end of the stone bench. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment Dame Perrine, who had not stirred since Colombe's -mortifying reprimand, growing weary of her own immobility and her young -mistress's silence, took Dame Ruperta's arm and walked softly away. -</p> - -<p> -The young people were left alone. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, whose eyes were fixed upon her book, did not at first observe -the departure of her governess, and yet she was not reading, for there -was a mist before her eyes. She was still excited and dizzy. All that -she was capable of doing, and that she did instinctively, was to conceal -her agitation, and repress the violent beating of her heart. Ascanio, -too, was beside himself; he was excessively pained when he thought that -Colombe desired to send him away, and insanely happy when he fancied -that he could detect signs of emotion in his inamorata; and these sudden -alternations of emotion in his enfeebled state transported and unnerved -him at the same time. He was like one in a swoon, and yet his thoughts -followed upon one another's heels with astounding rapidity and force. -"She despises me! she loves me!" he said to himself almost in the same -breath. He glanced at Colombe, silent and still, and the tears rolled -down his cheeks, although he felt them not. Meanwhile a bird was singing -in the branches overhead; the leaves were scarcely stirring in the -gentle breeze. From the Augustine church the evening Angelus came -floating softly downward through the air. Never was July evening more -calm and peaceful. It was one of Nature's solemn moments, when the soul -enters a new sphere,—one of those moments which seem twenty years, -and which one remembers all his life. -</p> - -<p> -The two lovely children, so well suited to each other, had but to move -their hands to join them, and yet it seemed as if there were a yawning -gulf between them. -</p> - -<p> -After a moment or two Colombe raised her head:— -</p> - -<p> -"You are weeping!" she cried, obeying an impulse stronger than her will. -</p> - -<p> -"I am not weeping," said Ascanio, falling back upon the bench; but his -hands were wet with tears when he took them from his face. -</p> - -<p> -"It is true," he said, "I am weeping." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, what is the matter? I will call some one. Are you in pain?" -</p> - -<p> -"Only from my thoughts." -</p> - -<p> -"What thoughts, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was thinking that perhaps it would have been better for me to die the -other day." -</p> - -<p> -"Die! How old are you, pray, that you should talk thus of dying?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nineteen: but the age of unhappiness is a fit age for death." -</p> - -<p> -"And what of your kindred, who would weep for you?" said Colombe, -unconsciously eager for a glimpse into the past of this life, of which -she had a confused feeling that the future would be involved with her -own. -</p> - -<p> -"I have no father or mother, and there is no one to weep for me save my -master, Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"Poor orphan!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, an orphan indeed! My father never loved me, and I lost my mother -at ten years, just when I was beginning to understand her love and -return it. My father—But what am I saying, and what are my father -and my mother to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes! Go on, Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Saints in heaven! you remember my name!" -</p> - -<p> -"Go on, go on," whispered Colombe, putting her hands before her face to -hide her blushes. -</p> - -<p> -"My father was a goldsmith, and my dear mother was herself the daughter -of a Florentine goldsmith, named Raphael del Moro, of a noble Italian -family; for in our Italian republics, to work implies no dishonor, and -you will see more than one ancient and illustrious name on the sign of a -shop. My master, Cellini, for example, is as noble as the King of -France, if not even more so. Raphael del Moro, who was poor, compelled -his daughter Stefana to marry, against her will, a fellow goldsmith -almost of his own age, but very wealthy. Alas! my mother and Benvenuto -Cellini loved each other, but were both fortuneless. Benvenuto was -travelling everywhere to make a name for himself and earn money. He was -far away, and could not interfere to prevent the marriage. Gismondo -Gaddi (that was my father's name) soon began to detest his wife because -she did not love him, although he never knew that she loved somebody -else. My father was a man of a violent and jealous disposition. May he -forgive me if I accuse him wrongfully, but children have a relentless -memory for their wrongs. Very often my mother sought shelter by my -cradle from his brutal treatment, but he did not always respect that -sanctuary. Sometimes he struck her, may God forgive him! while she held -me in her arms: and at every blow my mother would give me a kiss to help -deaden the pain. Ah! I remember well both the blows my mother received -and the kisses she gave me. -</p> - -<p> -"The Lord, who is just, dealt a blow at my father where he would feel it -most keenly,—in his wealth, which was dearer to him than anything -else in the world. Disaster after disaster overwhelmed him. He died of -grief because his money was all gone, and my mother died a few days after, -because she thought that she was no longer beloved. -</p> - -<p> -"I was left alone in the world. My father's creditors laid hands upon -all that he left, and, in all their ferreting to make sure that they had -forgotten nothing, they failed to discover a little weeping child. An -old maid-servant who was fond of me kept me two days from charity, but -she was living on charity herself, and had none too much bread for her -own needs. -</p> - -<p> -"She was uncertain what to do with me, when a man covered with dust -entered the room, took me in his arms, embraced me, weeping, and, having -given the good old woman some money, took me away with him. It was -Benvenuto Cellini, who had come from Rome to Florence expressly to find -me. He cherished me, instructed me in his art, and kept me always with -him, and, as I say he is the only one who would weep for my death." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe listened with lowered eyes and oppressed heart to the orphan's -story, which in the matter of loneliness was her own, and to the story -of the poor mother's life, which would perhaps be hers some day; for she -too was doomed to marry against her will a man who would hate her -because she would not love him. -</p> - -<p> -"You are unjust to God," she said to Ascanio; "there is some one, your -kind master at least, who loves you, and you knew your mother. I cannot -remember my mother's kisses, for she died in giving birth to me. I was -brought up by my father's sister, a crabbed, ill-tempered woman, and yet -I mourned her bitterly when I lost her two years ago, for in the absence -of any other affection my heart clung to her as ivy clings to a cliff. -For two years I have been living in this place with Dame Perrine, and -notwithstanding my loneliness, and although my father comes very rarely -to see me, these two years have been and will be the happiest of my -whole life." -</p> - -<p> -"You have indeed suffered much," said Ascanio, "but though the past has -been so painful, why do you dread the future? Yours, alas! is full of -glorious promise. You are nobly born, rich, and beautiful, and the -shadow of your early years will only bring out in bolder relief the -splendor of the rest of your life." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe sadly shook her head. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh mother! mother!" she murmured. -</p> - -<p> -When, rising in thought above the paltry present, one loses sight of the -trivial necessities of the moment in the brilliant flashes which -illuminate and epitomize a whole life, past and future, the heart is -sometimes affected with a dangerous vertigo; and when one's memory is -laden with a thousand sorrows, when one dreads bitter anguish to come, -the same heart is often a prey to terrible emotion and fatal weakness. -One must be very strong not to fall when the weight of destiny is -pressing down upon one's heart. These two children, who had already -suffered so much, who had been always alone, had but to pronounce a -single word to make a single future for their twofold past; but one was -too dutiful, the other too respectful, to pronounce that word. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio gazed at Colombe, however, with infinite tenderness in his eyes, -and Colombe permitted his scrutiny with divine trust. With clasped -hands, and in the tone in which he might have prayed, the apprentice -said to the maiden:— -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe, if you have any desire which I can gratify by pouring out all -my blood to gratify it, if any disaster threatens you, and nothing more -than a life is needed to avert it, say one word to me, Colombe, as you -might say it to your brother, and I shall be very happy." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, thanks!" said Colombe; "I know that you have already nobly -risked your life once at a word from me; but God alone can save me this -time." -</p> - -<p> -She had no time to say more, for Dame Perrine and Dame Ruperta stopped -in front of them at that moment. -</p> - -<p> -The gossips had made the most of their time, as well as the two lovers, -and had formed a close alliance, based upon mutual sympathy. Dame -Perrine had confided to Dame Ruperta an infallible cure for chilblains, -and Dame Ruperta, not to be outdone, had imparted to Dame Perrine the -secret of preserving plums. After such an exchange of confidence, it is -easy to understand that they were thenceforth united for life and death, -and they had agreed to meet frequently, whatever the cost. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Colombe," said Dame Perrine, as they drew nigh the bench, "do you -still bear me a grudge? Tell me, wouldn't it have been a shame to -refuse admission to him but for whom the house would have no master? -Shouldn't we do our utmost to help cure this youth of a wound received -for us? Look, Dame Ruperta, and see if he doesn't already look better, -and if he hasn't more color than when he came." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes indeed," assented Ruperta, "he never had more color when he was in -the best of health." -</p> - -<p> -"Consider, Colombe," continued Dame Perrine, "it would be downright -murder to interrupt convalescence so happily begun. Come, the end -justifies the means. You will allow me to admit him to-morrow at dusk, -won't you? It will be a pleasant change for you as well, poor child, and -a very innocent one, God knows, when Dame Ruperta and I are both here. -Upon my word, Colombe, you need some sort of a change. And who is there -to tell the provost that we have softened his stern orders a bit? And -remember that, before he gave the order, you told Ascanio that he might -come and show you his jewels; he forgot them to-day, so he must bring -them to-morrow." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe looked at Ascanio; the color had fled from his cheeks, and he -was awaiting her reply in an agony of suspense. -</p> - -<p> -In the eyes of a poor girl, kept a prisoner and tyrannized over, there -was a world of flattery in this humility. There was then some one in the -world whose happiness depended upon her, whom she could make glad or sad -with a word! Every one exults in his own power. The insolent airs of -Comte d'Orbec had humiliated Colombe very recently. The hapless -prisoner—forgive her, pray!—could not resist the longing to see -the joyful light shine in Ascanio's eyes, so she said, with a blush and a -smile,— -</p> - -<p> -"Dame Perrine, what is this you have persuaded me to do?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio tried to speak, but could only clasp his hands effusively; his -knees trembled under him. -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, fair lady!" said Ruperta, with a deep courtesy. "Come, Ascanio, -you are still weak, and it is time to go in. Give me your arm, and let -us go." -</p> - -<p> -The apprentice could hardly muster strength to say "Adieu" and "Thanks!" -but he supplemented his words with a look in which his heart spoke -volumes, and meekly followed the servant, his whole being overflowing -with joy. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe fell back upon the bench, absorbed in thought, and conscious of -a pleasurable excitement, for which she reproached herself, and which -was entirely unfamiliar to her. -</p> - -<p> -"Until to-morrow!" said Dame Perrine, triumphantly, as she took leave -of her guests after escorting them to the door; "if you choose, young -man, you can come in this way every day for three months." -</p> - -<p> -"And why for three months only?" asked Ascanio, who had dreamed of -coming always. -</p> - -<p> -"Dame!" was Dame Perrine's reply, "because in three months Colombe is to -marry Comte d'Orbec." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio needed all the strength of his will to keep from falling. -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe to marry Comte d'Orbec!" he muttered. "O mon Dieu! mon Dieu! so -I deceived myself! Colombe does not love me!" -</p> - -<p> -As Dame Perrine closed the door behind him at that moment, and Dame -Ruperta was walking in front of him, neither of them overheard. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap12"></a></h4> - -<h4>XII -<br /><br /> -THE KING'S QUEEN</h4> - -<p> -We have said that Benvenuto left the studio about noon without saying -whither he was going. He went to the Louvre to return the visit -François I. paid him at the Cardinal of Ferrara's hotel. -</p> - -<p> -The king had kept his word. The name of Benvenuto Cellini was given to -all the doorkeepers and ushers, and all the doors flew open before -him,—all the doors save one, that leading to the council chamber. -François was discussing affairs of state with the first men in his -realm, and, although the king's orders were explicit, they dared not -introduce Cellini in the midst of the momentous session then in progress -without further instructions from his Majesty. -</p> - -<p> -In truth, France was at this time in a critical situation. We have thus -far said but little of affairs of state, feeling sure that our readers, -especially those of the gentler sex, would prefer affairs of the heart -to politics; but we have at last reached a point where we can no longer -draw back, and where we must needs cast a glance, which we will make as -brief as possible, at France and Spain, or rather at François I. and -Charles V., for in the sixteenth century kings were nations. -</p> - -<p> -At the period at which we have arrived, by virtue of one of the -periodical movements of the political see-saw, of which both so often -felt the effects, François's situation had recently improved, and -Charles's grown worse in equal degree. In fact, things had changed -materially since the Treaty of Cambrai, which was negotiated by two -women, Margaret of Austria, aunt of Charles V., and the Duchesse -d'Angoulême, mother of François I. This treaty, which was the -complement of the treaty of Madrid, provided that the King of Spain -should cede Burgundy to the King of France, and that the King of France -should renounce his claim to the homage of Flanders and Artois. -Furthermore, the two young princes, who served as hostages for their -father, were to be sent back to him in exchange for the sum of two -millions of golden crowns. Lastly, good Queen Eleanora, Charles V.'s -sister, who was promised at first to the Constable (Bourbon) as a reward -for his treachery, and was afterwards married to François as a pledge -of peace, was to return to the court of France with the two children, to -whom she had been as affectionate and devoted as any mother. These -stipulations were carried out with equal good faith on both sides. -</p> - -<p> -But it will readily be believed that François's renunciation of his -claim to the Duchy of Milan, exacted from him during his captivity, was -only momentary. He was no sooner a free man once more, no sooner -restored to power and health, than he turned his eyes again toward -Italy. It was with the object of procuring countenance of his claims at -the Court of Rome that he had married his son Henri, become Dauphin by -the death of his elder brother François, to Catherine de Medicis, niece -of Pope Clement VII. -</p> - -<p> -Unfortunately, just at the moment when all the preparations for the -king's meditated invasion were completed, Clement VII. died, and was -succeeded by Alexander Farnese, who ascended the throne of St. Peter -under the name of Paul III. -</p> - -<p> -Now Paul III. was determined not to allow himself to be inveigled into -supporting the party of the Emperor, or of the King of France, but to -adhere strictly to the policy of holding an equal balance between them. -</p> - -<p> -With his mind at ease in that direction, the Emperor laid aside all -anxiety on the subject of the preparations of France, and busied himself -fitting out an expedition against Tunis, which had been seized by the -corsair Cher-Eddin, so famous under the name of Barbarossa, who, having -driven out Muley Hassan, had taken possession of the country, and was -laying Sicily waste. -</p> - -<p> -The expedition was entirely successful, and Charles V., after destroying -three or four ships, sailed into the Bay of Naples in triumph. -</p> - -<p> -There he received tidings which tended to encourage him still more. -Charles III., Duke of Savoy, although he was the maternal uncle of -François I., had followed the counsel of his new wife, Beatrice, -daughter of Emmanuel of Portugal, and had abandoned the party of the -King of France; so that when François, by virtue of his former treaties -with Charles III., called upon him to receive his troops, the Duke of -Savoy answered by refusing to do so, and François was reduced to the -unenviable necessity of forcing the passage of the Alps, which he had -hoped to find open to him by favor of his ally and kinsman. -</p> - -<p> -But Charles X. was awakened from his feeling of security by a veritable -thunder-clap. The king marched an army into Savoy so promptly that the -duke found his province actually under occupation by the French troops -before he suspected that it was invaded. Biron, who was in command of -the army, seized Chambéry, appeared upon the Alpine passes, and -threatened Piedmont just as Francesco Sforza, terror-stricken doubtless -by the news of Biron's success, died suddenly, leaving the Duchy of -Milan without an heir, and thereby not only making its conquest an easy -matter for François, but giving him a strong claim to it as well. -</p> - -<p> -Biron marched down into Italy, and seized Turin. There he halted, -pitched his camp on the banks of the Sesia, and awaited developments. -</p> - -<p> -Charles V. meanwhile had left Naples for Rome. The victory he had won -over the long time enemies of Christ procured him the honor of a -triumphal entry into the capital of Christendom. This entry intoxicated -the Emperor to such a point, that, contrary to his custom, he went -beyond all bounds, and in full consistory accused François I. of -heresy, basing the accusation upon the protection he accorded the -Protestants, and upon his alliance with the Turks. Having recapitulated -all their former causes of disagreement, wherein, according to his view, -François was always the first at fault, he swore to wage a war of -extermination against his brother-in-law. -</p> - -<p> -His disasters in the past had made François as prudent as he formerly -was reckless. And so, as soon as he found himself threatened at one time -by the forces of Spain and of the Empire, he left D'Annebaut to guard -Turin, and called Biron back to France, with orders to devote himself -entirely to protecting the frontiers. -</p> - -<p> -Those who were familiar with the chivalrous and enterprising character -of François were at a loss to understand this retrograde movement, and -supposed from his taking one backward step that he considered himself -whipped in advance. This belief still further exalted the pride of -Charles V.; he took command of his army in person, and resolved upon -invading France from the south. -</p> - -<p> -The results of this attempted invasion are well known. Marseilles, which -had held out against the Connétable de Bourbon and the Marquis of -Pescara, the two greatest soldiers of the time, had no difficulty in -holding out against Charles V., a great politician, but of only moderate -capacity as a general. Charles was not discouraged, but left Marseilles -behind, and attempted to march upon Avignon; but Montmorency had -constructed an impregnable camp between the Durance and the Rhone, -against which Charles expended his force to no purpose. So that, after -six weeks of fruitless endeavor, repulsed in front, harassed upon the -flanks, and in great danger of having his retreat cut off, he ordered a -retreat which strongly resembled a rout, and, having narrowly escaped -falling into his enemy's hands, succeeded with great difficulty in -reaching Barcelona, where he arrived without men or money. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon all those who were awaiting the issue of his expedition to -declare themselves declared against Charles V. Henry VIII. cast off his -wife, Catherine of Aragon, in order to espouse his mistress, Anne -Boleyn. Soliman attacked the kingdom of Naples and Hungary. The -Protestant princes of Germany entered into a secret league against the -Emperor. Lastly, the people of Ghent, weary of the incessant burdens -imposed upon them to defray the expense of the war against France, -suddenly rose in revolt, and sent ambassadors to François to invite him -to place himself at their head. -</p> - -<p> -But amid this universal upheaval, which threatened to destroy the -Emperor's fortunes, new negotiations were entered upon by the King of -France and himself. The two monarchs had an interview at Aigues-Mortes, -and François, bent upon peace, which he felt to be an absolute -necessity for France, was determined thenceforth to rely upon friendly -negotiations to effect his objects, and not upon an armed struggle. -</p> - -<p> -He therefore caused Charles to be informed of the proposition of the men -of Ghent, offering him at the same time liberty to pass through France -on his way to Flanders. -</p> - -<p> -The council had been called together to discuss this subject, when -Benvenuto knocked at the door, and François, true to his promise, as -soon as he was advised of the great artist's presence, ordered that he -be admitted. Benvenuto therefore heard the end of the discussion. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, messieurs," François was saying, "yes, I agree with Monsieur de -Montmorency, and it is my dream to conclude a lasting alliance with the -Emperor elect, to raise our two thrones above all the rest of -Christendom, and to wipe out all these corporations, communes, and -popular assemblies which assume to set bounds to our royal power by -refusing us to-day the arms, to-morrow the money, of our subjects. My -dream is to force back into the bosom of the true religion all the -heresies which distress our holy Mother Church. My dream is, lastly, to -unite all our forces against the enemies of Christ, to drive the Turkish -Sultan from Constantinople, were it only to prove that he is not, as he -is alleged to be, my ally, and to establish at Constantinople a second -empire rivalling the first in power, in splendor, and in extent. That is -my dream, messieurs, and I have given it that name so that I may not -allow myself to be unduly exalted by hope of success, nor unduly cast -down if the future shall demonstrate, as it may, its impracticability. -But if it should be fulfilled, constable, if it should be fulfilled, if -I were to have France and Turkey, Paris and Constantinople, the Occident -and the Orient, confess, messieurs, that it would be grand,—that it -would be sublime!" -</p> - -<p> -"I understand, then, Sire," said the Duc de Guise, "that it is -definitely decided that you decline the suzerainty proffered you by the -Ghentese, and that you renounce the former domains of the house of -Burgundy?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is so decided: the Emperor shall see that I am an ally as loyal as I -am a loyal foe. But first of all, and in any event, I desire and shall -demand that the Duchy of Milan be restored to me: it belongs to me by -hereditary right and by imperial investiture, and I will have it, on my -honor as a gentleman, but, I trust, without breaking with my brother -Charles." -</p> - -<p> -"And you will offer to allow Charles V. to pass through France on his -way to Ghent to chastise the rebels?" asked Poyet. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Monsieur le Chancelier," was the king's reply; "despatch M. de -Fréjus to-day to extend the invitation in my name. Let us show him that -we are disposed to go any length to maintain peace. But if he prefers -war—" -</p> - -<p> -A majestic, awe-inspiring gesture accompanied this phrase, interrupted -for an instant as François caught sight of his artist standing modestly -near the door. -</p> - -<p> -"But if he prefers war," he resumed, "by my Jupiter, of whom Benvenuto -brings me news, I swear that it shall be war bloody, desperate, and -terrible! Well, Benvenuto, where is my Jupiter?" -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," replied Cellini, "I bring you the model of your Jupiter: but do -you know of what I was dreaming as I looked at you and listened to you? -I was dreaming of a fountain for your Fontainebleau,—a fountain to be -surmounted by a colossal statue sixty feet high, holding a broken lance -in its right hand, and with the left resting on its sword hilt. This -statue, Sire, should represent Mars,—that is to say, your Majesty; -for your nature is all courage, and you use your courage judiciously, and -for the defence of your glory. Stay, Sire, that is not all: at the four -corners of the base of the statue there should be four seated -figures,—Poetry, Painting, Sculpture, and Generosity. Of that I was -dreaming as I looked at you and listened to you, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"And you shall cause your dream to live in marble or bronze, Benvenuto: -such is my wish," said the king in a commanding tone, but with a -cordial, kindly smile. -</p> - -<p> -All the members of the council applauded, for all deemed the king worthy -of the statue, and the statue worthy of the king. -</p> - -<p> -"Meanwhile," said the king, "let us see our Jupiter." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto drew the model from beneath his cloak, and placed it upon the -table, around which the destiny of the world had so recently been -debated. -</p> - -<p> -François gazed at it for a moment with undisguised admiration. -</p> - -<p> -"At last!" he cried, "at last I have found a man after my own heart. My -friend," he continued, laying his hand upon Benvenuto's shoulder, "I -know not which of the two experiences the greater happiness, the prince -who finds an artist who thoroughly sympathizes with and understands all -his ideas, such an artist as yourself in short, or the artist who meets -a prince capable of appreciating him. I think that my pleasure is the -greater, upon my word." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh no, Sire, permit me!" cried Cellini; "surely mine is much the -greater." -</p> - -<p> -"No, mine, Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"I dare not contradict your Majesty, and yet—" -</p> - -<p> -"Let us say that we experience an equal amount of pleasure, my friend." -</p> - -<p> -"You have called me your friend, Sire," said Benvenuto; "that is a word -which pays me a hundred times over for all that I have done or can ever -do for your Majesty." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! it is my purpose to prove to you, Benvenuto, that it was no -empty, meaningless word that escaped me, and that I called you my friend -because you are my friend in fact. Bring me my Jupiter completed as soon -as possible, and whatever you may ask of me when you bring it, upon my -honor as a gentleman, you shall have if a king's hand can procure it for -you. Do you hear, messieurs? If I forget my promise, remind me of it." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," cried Benvenuto, "you are a great and a noble king, and I am -ashamed that I am able to do so little for you, who do so much for me." -</p> - -<p> -Having kissed the hand the king held out to him, Cellini replaced the -statue of Jupiter under his cloak, and left the council chamber with his -heart overflowing with pride and joy. -</p> - -<p> -As he left the Louvre, he met Primaticcio about to go in. -</p> - -<p> -"Whither go you so joyously, my dear Benvenuto?" he said, as Cellini -hastened along without seeing him. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! Francesco, is it you?" cried Cellini. "Yes, you are quite right. I -am joyous indeed, for I have just seen our great, our sublime, our -divine François I.—" -</p> - -<p> -"And did you see Madame d'Etampes?" queried Primaticcio. -</p> - -<p> -"Who said things to me, Francesco, that I dare not repeat, although they -say that modesty is not my strong point." -</p> - -<p> -"But what did Madame d'Etampes say to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"He called me his friend, Francesco, do you understand? He talked to me -as familiarly as he talks to his marshals. Finally, he said that when my -Jupiter is finished I may ask whatever favor I choose, and it is -accorded in advance." -</p> - -<p> -"But what did Madame d'Etampes promise you?" -</p> - -<p> -"What a strange man you are, Francesco!" -</p> - -<p> -"Why so?" -</p> - -<p> -"You persist in talking about Madame d'Etampes when I speak of the -king." -</p> - -<p> -"Because I know the court better than you do, Benvenuto; because you are -my countryman and my friend: because you have brought me a breath of air -from our dear Italy, and in my gratitude I desire to save you from a -great danger. Mark what I say, Benvenuto: the Duchesse d'Etampes is your -enemy, your mortal enemy. I have told you this before, when I only -feared it; I repeat it to-day, when I am perfectly sure of it. You have -offended her, and if you do not appease her, Benvenuto, she will ruin -you. Benvenuto, mark well what I say: Madame d'Etampes is the king's -queen." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu, what is all this?" cried Cellini, with a laugh. "I have -offended Madame d'Etampes! how so, in God's name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I know you, Benvenuto, and I supposed that you knew no more than I -or the woman herself as to the cause of her aversion to you. But what -can we do? Women are so constituted; they hate as they love, without -knowing why, and the Duchesse d'Etampes hates you." -</p> - -<p> -"What would you have me do?" -</p> - -<p> -"What would I have you do! I would have the courtier rescue the -sculptor." -</p> - -<p> -"I, the courtier of a courtesan!" -</p> - -<p> -"You are wrong, Benvenuto," said Primaticcio, smiling: "Madame d'Etampes -is very beautiful, as every artist must admit." -</p> - -<p> -"I admit it," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, go and say so to herself, and not to me. I ask nothing more -than that to make you the best friends in the world. You have wounded -her by some artist's whim, and it is your place to make the first -advances toward her. -</p> - -<p> -"If I wounded her," said Cellini, "I did it unintentionally, or rather -without malice. She said some hitter words to me which I did not -deserve; I put her back where she belonged, and she did deserve it." -</p> - -<p> -"Never mind, never mind! forget what she said, Benvenuto, and make her -forget your reply. I tell you again she is imperious and vindictive, and -she has the king's heart in her hand,—a king who loves art, it is -true, but who loves love more. She will make you repent your audacity, -Benvenuto; she will make enemies for you; she it was who inspired the -provost with courage to resist you. And listen: I am just setting out -for Italy; I am going to Rome by her command; and my journey, Benvenuto, -is aimed at you,—I, your friend, am compelled to become the -instrument of her spleen." -</p> - -<p> -"What are you to do at Rome?" -</p> - -<p> -"What am I to do there? You have promised the king to emulate the -ancients, and I know that you are a man to keep your promise. But the -duchess thinks you a braggart, and with a view of crushing you by the -comparison no doubt, she is sending me, a painter, to Rome to make casts -of the most beautiful of the ancient statues, the Laocoön, the Venus, -the Knife-Grinder, and God knows what!" -</p> - -<p> -"That is, indeed, refinement of hatred," said Benvenuto, who, -notwithstanding his good opinion of himself, was not altogether -confident of the result of a comparison of his work with that of the -great masters; "but to yield to a woman," he added, clenching his fists, -"never! never!" -</p> - -<p> -"Who spoke of yielding? I will show you an excellent way to accomplish -it. She is pleased with Ascanio; she wishes to employ him, and has -instructed me to bid him call upon her. Now, nothing could be simpler -than for you to accompany your pupil to the Hôtel d'Etampes and -introduce him yourself to the fair duchess. Seize the opportunity; take -with you one of those marvellous jewels which you alone can make, -Benvenuto; show it to her first, and when you see her eyes glisten as -she looks at it, offer it to her as an unworthy tribute to her beauty. -She will accept, will thank you gracefully, and will in return make you -some present worthy of you and take you back into favor. If, on the -other hand, you have that woman for an enemy, abandon henceforth all the -great things of which you are dreaming. Alas! I too have been compelled -to stoop for a moment, only to rise to my full stature immediately. -Until then that dauber Rosso was preferred to me; he was put forward -everywhere, and always over my head. They made him Intendant of the -Crown." -</p> - -<p> -"You are unjust to him, Francesco," said Cellini, unable to conceal his -real thought; "he is a great painter." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think so?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am sure of it." -</p> - -<p> -"And so am I sure of it," said Primaticcio, "and that is just why I hate -him. They were using him to crush me; I flattered their wretched vanity, -and now I am the great Primaticcio, and they are using me to crush you. -Do as I did, therefore, Benvenuto; you will never repent having followed -my advice. I implore you for your own sake and mine, I implore you in -the name of your renown and your future, both of which you will -compromise if you persist in your obstinacy." -</p> - -<p> -"It is hard," said Cellini, who was, however, perceptibly weakening in -his determination. -</p> - -<p> -"If not for yourself, Benvenuto, for the sake of our great king. Do you -wish to tear his heart by compelling him to choose between a mistress he -adores, and an artist he admires?" -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! so be it! For the king's sake I will do it!" cried Cellini, -overjoyed to find a pretext which would spare his self-esteem. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>À la bonne heure!</i>" said Primaticcio. "You understand, of course, -that if a single word of this conversation should be repeated to the -duchess, it would cause my ruin." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! I trust that you have no fears on that score." -</p> - -<p> -"If Benvenuto gives his word, all is said." -</p> - -<p> -"You have it." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case, adieu, brother." -</p> - -<p> -"A pleasant journey to you." -</p> - -<p> -"And good luck to you." -</p> - -<p> -The two friends, having exchanged a cordial grasp of the hand, parted, -each with a gesture which summarized their whole conversation. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap13"></a></h4> - -<h4>XIII -<br /><br /> -SOUVENT FEMME VARIE</h4> - -<p> -The Hôtel d'Etampes was not far from the Hôtel de Nesle. Our readers -will not be surprised therefore at our rapid flight from one to the -other. -</p> - -<p> -It was located near the Quai des Augustins, and extended the whole -length of Rue Gilles-le-Gueux, which was at a later date sentimentally -christened Rue Gît-le-Cœur. The principal entrance was upon Rue de -l'Hirondelle. François I. had presented it to his mistress to induce -her to become the wife of Jacques Desbrosses, Comte de Penthièvre, as -he had given the dukedom of Etampes and the government of Bretagne to -Jacques Desbrosses, Comte de Penthièvre, to induce him to marry his -mistress. -</p> - -<p> -The king had spared no pains to render his gift worthy of the lovely -Anne d'Heilly. He had caused the old edifice to be refurbished and made -over according to the latest style. -</p> - -<p> -Upon its frowning façade the delicate flowers of the Renaissance sprang -into life by magic, like so many thoughts of love. It was evident from -the zeal displayed by the king in the decoration of this princely abode, -that he anticipated passing almost as much of his time there as the -duchess herself. The apartments were furnished with royal magnificence, -and the whole establishment was upon the footing of that of a real -queen, much more extensive and luxurious, indeed, than that of the -chaste and kindly Eleanora, sister of Charles V. and the lawful wife of -François I., who was a personage of so little importance in the world, -as well as at the French court. -</p> - -<p> -If we are so indiscreet as to make our way into the duchess's sleeping -apartment early in the morning, we shall find her half reclining upon a -couch, her charming head supported by one of her lovely hands, and -passing the other carelessly through her chestnut locks, which shone -with a golden light. Her bare feet seem even smaller and whiter than -they really are in her wide black velvet slippers, and her floating, -<i>négligée</i> morning gown lends an irresistible charm to the coquette's -fascinations. -</p> - -<p> -The king is in the room, standing by a window, but he is not looking at -his duchess. He is tapping his fingers rhythmically against the glass, -and seems to be deep in meditation. He is thinking, no doubt, of the -momentous question of Charles V.'s journey through France. -</p> - -<p> -"Pray what are you doing there, Sire, with your back turned?" the -duchess finally asks, petulantly. -</p> - -<p> -"Making verses for you, my love, and they are finished at last, I -believe." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, repeat them to me quickly, I pray you, my gallant crowned poet!" -</p> - -<p> -"That I will," the king replies, with the confidence of a laurel-crowned -rhymer. "Listen:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">'Étant seul et auprès d'une fenêtre,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Par un matin comme le jour peignait,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Je regardais Aurore à main senestre,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Qui à Phœbus le chemin enseignait,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Et d'autre part ma mie qui peignait</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Son chef doré, et vis ses luisans yeux,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dont un jeta un trait si gracieux,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Qu'à haute voix je fus contraint de dire;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dieux immortels! rentrez dedans vos cieux,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Car la beauté de ceste vous empire!'"<a name="FNanchor_5_1" id="FNanchor_5_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_1" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -"Oh, the lovely verses!" says the duchess, clapping her hands. "Look at -Aurora to your heart's content: henceforth I'll not be jealous of her, -since to her I owe such charming verses. Say them to me once again, I -beg." -</p> - -<p> -François obligingly repeated his flattering lines, for his own benefit -as well as hers, but this time Anne said nothing. -</p> - -<p> -"What is the matter, my fair siren?" said François, who expected a -second compliment. -</p> - -<p> -"The matter is, Sire, that I am considering whether I will say to you -again even more emphatically what I said last evening: a poet has even -less pretext than a knightly king for allowing his mistress to be -insulted, for she is at the same time his mistress and his Muse." -</p> - -<p> -"Again, naughty one!" rejoined the king with an impatient gesture: "an -insult indeed, bon Dieu! Your wrath is implacable, in good sooth, my -nymph of nymphs, when it leads you to neglect my verses." -</p> - -<p> -"Monseigneur, I hate as warmly as I love." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet suppose I were to beg you to lay aside your animosity to -Benvenuto,—a great fool, who knows not what he says, who talks just -as he fights, heedless of consequences, and who had not, I swear, the -slightest purpose to wound you. You know, moreover, that clemency's the -attribute of goddesses, dear goddess mine, so pray forgive the simpleton -for love of me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Simpleton, indeed!" muttered Anne. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, a sublime simpleton, I grant you!" said François: "I saw him -yesterday, and he promised to do marvellous things. He is a man, I -verily believe, who has no rival in his art, and will hereafter shed as -much lustre on my reign as Andrea del Sarto, Titian, and Leonardo da -Vinci. You know how I love my artists, dearest duchess, so be -complaisant and indulgent to him, I beg you. Mon Dieu! an April shower, -a woman's caprice, and an artist's whim have more of fascination than of -ennui for me. Come, come, do you, whom I do love so dearly, pardon at my -bidding." -</p> - -<p> -"I am your servant, Sire, and I will obey you." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks. In return for this favor accorded by the woman's kindly heart, -you may demand such gift as pleases you that lies within the prince's -power to bestow. But, alas! 't is growing late, and I must leave you. -The council meets again to-day. 'T is an insufferable bore! Ah! my good -brother Charles makes the king's trade most irksome to me. With him -cunning replaces chivalry, the pen the sword; and 't is a burning shame. -Upon my soul, I think we need new words to be devised for all this -science and erudition of government. Adieu! my poor beloved. I will do -my best to be adroit and clever. You are very fortunate, my dear, for -you have only to remain beautiful, and Heaven has made that an easy task -for you. Adieu! nay, do not rise, my page is waiting for me in the -antechamber. <i>Au revoir</i>, and think of me." -</p> - -<p> -"As always, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -François waved a last farewell to her with his hand, raised the -hangings, and went out, leaving the fair duchess alone; and she, true to -her promise, began at once, if we must say it, to think of other things. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes was of an impulsive, active, ambitious nature. Having -eagerly sought and gallantly won the king's love, it was not long before -that love ceased to satisfy her restless spirit, and she began to suffer -from ennui. Neither Admiral Biron, nor the Comte de Longueval, whom she -loved for some time, nor Diane de Poitiers, whom she always hated, -furnished a sufficient amount of excitement for her needs; but within a -week the void in her heart had been measurably filled, and she had begun -to live again, thanks to a new hate and a new love. She hated Cellini -and loved Ascanio, and she was thinking of one or the other while her -women were completing her toilet. -</p> - -<p> -When she was fully dressed except as to her headgear, the Provost of -Paris and the Vicomte de Marmagne were announced. -</p> - -<p> -They were among the most devoted partisans of the duchess in the warfare -which existed at court between the Dauphin's mistress, Diane de -Poitiers, and herself. One is naturally glad to see one's friends when -thinking of one's enemies, and the manner of Madame d'Etampes was -infinitely gracious as she gave the scowling provost and the smiling -viscount her hand to kiss. -</p> - -<p> -"Messire le Prévôt," she began, in a tone in which unfeigned wrath was -blended with compassion that contained no suggestion of offence, "we -have been informed of the infamous treatment you have received from this -Italian clown,—you, our best friend,—and we are extremely -indignant." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," replied D'Estourville, neatly turning his misfortune into an -occasion for flattery, "I should have been ashamed if one of my years -and character had been spared by the villain who was not deterred by -your beauty and charm." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" said Anne, "I think only of you; as to the insult to me -personally, the king, who is really too indulgent to these insolent -foreigners, has begged me to forget it, and I have done so." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case, madame, the request we have to make will doubtless be but -ill received, and we ask your permission to withdraw without stating -it." -</p> - -<p> -"What, Messire d'Estourville! am I not at your service at all times, and -whatever may happen? Speak! speak! or I shall lose my temper with so -distrustful a friend." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, madame, this is what we have to say. I had believed that I -might dispose of this grant of lodgings which I owe to your munificence -in favor of the Vicomte de Marmagne, and naturally we cast our eyes upon -the Hôtel de Nesle, which has fallen into such bad hands." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" said the duchess. "You interest me immensely." -</p> - -<p> -"The viscount, madame, accepted my suggestion in the first place with -the utmost enthusiasm; but now, upon reflection, he hesitates, and -thinks with terror of the redoubtable Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon me, my good friend," the viscount interposed,—"pardon me, you -explain the matter very ill. I am not afraid of Benvenuto, but of the -anger of the king. I have no fear of being killed by the Italian clown, -to use madame's words,—no, no! What I fear, so to speak, is that I -may kill him, and that some ill may come to me for having deprived our -lord and master of a servitor by whom he seems to set great store." -</p> - -<p> -"I ventured to hope, madame, that, in case of need, your protection -would not fail him." -</p> - -<p> -"It has never yet failed my friends," said the duchess; "and, -furthermore, have you not on your side a better friend than -I,—justice? Are you not acting in accordance with the king's will?" -</p> - -<p> -"His Majesty," Marmagne replied, "did not himself designate the Hôtel -de Nesle as the abode of any other than Benvenuto, and our choice, under -those circumstances, would seem very much like revenge,—there's no -denying it. And then, suppose that I kill this Cellini, as I can promise -to do, for I shall have two sure men with me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! mon Dieu!" exclaimed the duchess, showing her white teeth as she -smiled, "the king's protection extends to living men, but I fancy that -he takes but little thought to avenge the dead, and when his admiration -for art is deprived of this particular subject, he will remember naught -save his affection for me, I trust. The man insulted me publicly and -outrageously, Marmagne! do you forget it?" -</p> - -<p> -"But, madame," rejoined the prudent viscount, "be very sure that you -know all you will have to defend." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you are perfectly clear, viscount." -</p> - -<p> -"Nay, madame, if you will permit me, I do not wish to leave you in -ignorance upon any point. It may be that force will fail to effect our -purpose with this devil of a man. In that event, we shall have recourse -to stratagem; if he escapes my bravos in his Hôtel in broad daylight, -they will meet him again some night by accident in a lonely street, -and—they have daggers, madame, as well as swords." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand," said the duchess, nor did she turn a shade paler while -listening to this little scheme of assassination. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, madame?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, viscount, I see that you are a man of precautions, and that it's -not well to be numbered among your enemies, deuce take me!" -</p> - -<p> -"But touching the affair itself, madame?" -</p> - -<p> -"'T is serious, in very truth, and is perhaps worth reflecting upon; but -what was I saying? Every one knows, the king himself included, that this -man has wounded me grievously in my pride. I hate him as bitterly as I -hate my husband or Madame Diane, and i' faith I think that I can promise -you—What is it, Isabeau? why do you interrupt us?" -</p> - -<p> -The duchess's last words were addressed to one of her women, who entered -hurriedly in a state of intense excitement. -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! madame," said she, "I ask madame's pardon, but the Florentine -artist, Benvenuto Cellini, is below with the loveliest little golden -vase you can imagine. He said very courteously that he has come to -present it to your ladyship, and he requests the favor of speaking with -you a moment." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" exclaimed the duchess, with an expression of gratified pride; -"what reply did you make to him, Isabeau?" -</p> - -<p> -"That madame was not dressed, and that I would go and inform her of his -presence." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good. It would seem," the duchess added, turning to the dismayed -provost, "that our enemy sees the error of his ways, and begins to -realize who we are, and what we can do. All the same, he will not come -off so cheaply as he thinks, and I don't propose to accept his excuses -all in a moment. He must be made to feel the enormity of his offence and -the weight of our indignation a little more sensibly. Say to him, -Isabeau, that you have informed me, and that I bid him wait." -</p> - -<p> -Isabeau went out. -</p> - -<p> -"I was saying, Vicomte de Marmagne," resumed the duchess, with a -perceptible softening in her tone, "that what you were speaking of is a -very serious matter, and that I could hardly promise to give my -countenance to what is, after all, nothing less than ambuscade and -murder." -</p> - -<p> -"But the insult was so pronounced!" the provost ventured, to say. -</p> - -<p> -"The reparation will be no less so, I trust, messire. This famous pride, -which has resisted the will of sovereigns, is yonder in my antechamber -awaiting the good pleasure of a woman, and two hours of this purgatory -will, in all conscience, sufficiently atone for an impertinent word. We -must not be altogether pitiless, provost. Forgive him, as I shall -forgive him two hours hence. Ought my influence over you to be less than -the king's over me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Kindly permit us to take leave now, madame," said the provost, bowing, -"for I prefer not to make a promise to my real sovereign which I could -not keep." -</p> - -<p> -"Take your leave! oh no!" said the duchess, who was determined to have -witnesses of her triumph. "I intend, Messire le Prévôt, that you shall be -present at the humiliation of your enemy, and thus we shall both be avenged -by the same stroke. I devote the next two hours to you and the viscount; -nay, do not thank me. They say that you are marrying your daughter to -Comte d'Orbec, I believe?—a beautiful <i>parti</i>, in sooth. -Fine, I should have said, not beautiful.<a name="FNanchor_6_1" id="FNanchor_6_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_1" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> Pray, sit you down, messire! -Do you know that my consent is needful for this marriage, and you've not -asked it yet, but I will give it you. D'Orbec is as devoted to me as -yourself. I hope that we are at last to see your lovely child, and have -her for our own, and that her husband will not be so ill advised as not -to bring her to court. What is her name, messire?" -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"A sweet, pretty name. 'T is said that one's name has an influence upon -one's destiny: if it be so, the poor child should have a tender heart, -and be foredoomed to suffer. Well, Isabeau, what is it now?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing, madame; he said that he would wait." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes! 't is well. I had forgotten him already. Yes, yes, messire, I -say again, keep your eye on Colombe; the count's a husband of the same -sort as mine, as ambitious as the Duc d'Etampes is avaricious, and quite -capable of exchanging his wife for some duchy. And then you must be -beware of me as well, especially if she's as pretty as she's said to be! -You will present her to me, will you not, messire? 'T will be no more -than fair, so that I may be prepared to defend myself." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess, exultant in anticipation of her triumph, ran on thus for a -long while with apparent unconcern, although her impatient joy could be -discerned in her every movement. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well," she said at last, "another half-hour and the two hours -will have passed; then we will release poor Benvenuto from his agony. -Put yourselves in his place; he must suffer terribly, for he is little -wonted to this sort of sentry-go. To him the Louvre is always open, and -the king always visible. In truth, I pity him, although he well deserves -it. He must be gnashing his teeth, must be not? And then to be unable to -give vent to his anger. Ha! ha! ha! I shall have many a hearty laugh -over this. But what is that I hear? Bon Dieu! all that shouting and -uproar!" -</p> - -<p> -"May it not be that the soul of the damned is wearying of Purgatory?" -suggested the provost, with renewed hope. -</p> - -<p> -"I propose to go and see," said the duchess, turning pale. "Come with -me, my masters, come." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, persuaded by the arguments we have heard to make his peace -with the all-powerful favorite, on the day following his conversation -with Primaticcio took the little golden vase as a peace-offering, and -repaired to the Hôtel d'Etampes, with Ascanio leaning on his arm, still -very weak and very pale after a night of suffering. In the first place, -the footmen refused to announce him at so early an hour, and he lost a -good half-hour parleying with them. He had already begun to lose his -temper, when Isabeau at last made her appearance, and consented to -announce him to her mistress. She returned to say to Benvenuto that the -duchess was dressing, and he must wait a short time. He took patience, -therefore, and sat himself down upon a stool beside Ascanio, who was -considerably overdone, by the walk, in conjunction with his fever and -his painful thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -An hour passed. Benvenuto began to count the minutes. "After all," he -thought, "the toilette of a duchess is the most important function of -the day, and I don't propose to lose the benefit of the step I have -taken for a quarter of an hour more or less." -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless, in the face of this philosophical reflection, he began to -count the seconds. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Ascanio turned paler and paler; he was determined to say -nothing to his master of his sufferings, and had accompanied him without -a word; but he had eaten nothing that morning, and, although he refused -to acknowledge it, he felt that his strength was failing him. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto could not remain seated, but began to stalk up and down the -room. -</p> - -<p> -A quarter of an hour passed. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you suffering, my child?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -"No, master, indeed I'm not: you are the one who is suffering. Be -patient, I beg you, for she cannot be long now." -</p> - -<p> -At that moment Isabeau appeared again. -</p> - -<p> -"Your mistress is very slow," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -The mischievous girl went to the window, and looked at the clock in the -courtyard. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, you have waited only an hour and a half," she said; "why do you -complain, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -As Cellini frowned, she laughed in his face, and tripped away. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, by a violent effort, subdued his wrath once more. But in -order to do it he was obliged to resume his seat, and sat with folded -arms, silent and stem. He seemed calm; but his wrath was fermenting -silently. Two servants stood like statues at the door, observing him -with a serious expression, which seemed to him derisory. -</p> - -<p> -The clock struck the quarter. Benvenuto glanced at Ascanio, and saw that -he was paler than ever, and almost ready to faint. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah ça!" he cried, throwing his self-restraint to the winds, "so this -is done designedly! I chose to believe what I was told, and wait -good-naturedly: but if an insult is intended—and I am so little -wonted to them, that the thought did not occur to me—if an insult -is intended, I am not the man to allow myself to be insulted, even by a -woman, and I go. Come, Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, Benvenuto, raising in his powerful hand the unhospitable -stool, on which the duchess in her wrath had humiliated him for two -mortal hours without his knowledge, let it fall to the floor and -shattered it. The valets made a movement toward him, but he half drew -his dagger and they stopped. Ascanio, terrified for his master, essayed -to rise, but his excitement had exhausted what remained of his strength, -and he fell to the floor unconscious. Benvenuto at first did not see -him. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment the duchess appeared in the doorway, pale and trembling -with wrath. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I go," Benvenuto repeated in a voice of thunder, perfectly well -aware of her presence, but addressing the valets: "do you tell the woman -that I take my present with me to give to somebody, I know not whom, who'll -be more worthy of it than herself. Tell her that, if she took me for -one of her valets, like yourselves, she made a sad mistake, and that we -artists do not sell our loyalty and homage as she sells her love! And -now make way for me! Follow me, Ascanio!" -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, he turned toward his beloved pupil, and saw that his eyes -were closed, and that his head had fallen back against the wall. -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio!" he cried, "Ascanio, my child, fainting, perhaps dying! O -Ascanio, my beloved! and 't is this woman again—" And Benvenuto -turned with a threatening gesture to Madame d'Etampes, at the same time -starting to carry Ascanio away in his arms. -</p> - -<p> -The duchess meanwhile, transfixed with rage and terror, had not moved or -spoken. But when she saw Ascanio with his head thrown back, and his long -hair dishevelled, as white as marble, and so beautiful in his pallor, -she rushed to him in obedience to an irresistible impulse, and fell on -her knees opposite Benvenuto, seizing one of Ascanio's hands in her own. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, the child is dying! If you take him away, monsieur, you will kill -him. He may need immediate attention. Jerome, run and fetch Master -André. I do not mean that he shall go from here in this condition, do -you understand? You may go or stay, as you please, but leave him." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto cast a penetrating glance at the duchess, and one of deep -anxiety at Ascanio. He realized that there could be no danger in leaving -his cherished pupil in the care of Madame d'Etampes, while there might -be very serious danger in removing him without proper precaution. His -mind was soon made up, as always, for swift and inexorable decision was -one of Cellini's most striking good or had qualities. -</p> - -<p> -"You will answer for him, madame?" he said. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, with my life!" cried the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -He softly kissed his apprentice on the forehead, and, wrapping his cloak -about him, stalked proudly from the room, with his hand upon his dagger, -not without exchanging a glance of hatred and disdain with the duchess. -As for the two men, he did not deign to look at them. -</p> - -<p> -Anne followed her enemy so long as she could see him with eyes blazing -with wrath; then, with an entire change of expression, her eyes rested -sadly and anxiously upon the comely invalid; love took the place of -anger, the tigress became a gazelle once more. -</p> - -<p> -"Master André," she said to her physician, who entered hurriedly, "save -him; he is wounded and dying." -</p> - -<p> -"It is nothing," said Master André, "a mere passing weakness." -</p> - -<p> -He poured upon Ascanio's lips a few drops of a cordial which he always -carried about him. -</p> - -<p> -"He is coming to himself," cried the duchess, "he moved. Now, master, he -must be kept quiet, must he not? Take him into yonder room," she said to -the valets, "and lay him upon a couch.—But, hark ye," she added, -lowering her voice, so that none but they could hear: "if one word -escapes you as to what you have seen and heard, your neck shall pay for -your tongue. Go." -</p> - -<p> -The trembling lackeys bowed, and, gently lifting Ascanio, bore him away. -</p> - -<p> -Remaining alone with the provost and the Vicomte de Marmagne, prudent -and passive spectators of the outrage upon her, Madame d'Etampes eyed -them both, especially the latter, with a scornful glance, but she -speedily repressed the inclination to express her contempt in words. -</p> - -<p> -"I was saying, viscount," she began in a bitter tone, but calmly, "I was -saying that the thing you proposed was very serious; but I did not -reflect sufficiently upon it. I have sufficient power, I think, to -permit me to strike down a traitor, even as I should have sufficient, if -need were, to deal with indiscreet friends. The king would condescend to -punish him this time, I trust; but I choose to avenge myself. Punishment -would make the insult public; vengeance will bury it. You have been cool -and clever enough, messieurs, to postpone my vengeance, in order not to -compromise its success, and I congratulate you upon it. Be shrewd enough -now, I conjure you, not to let it escape you, and do not compel me to -have recourse to others than yourselves. Vicomte de Marmagne, it is -necessary to speak plainly to you. I guarantee you equal impunity with -the executioner; but if you care for my advice, I advise you and your -sbirri to lay aside the sword, and trust to the dagger. Say nothing, but -act, and that promptly; that is the most satisfactory response. Adieu, -messieurs." -</p> - -<p> -With these words, uttered in a short, abrupt tone, the duchess extended -her hand as if to point out the door to the two noblemen. They bowed -awkwardly, too confused to find words in which to frame an excuse, and -left the room. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, to think that I am only a woman, and am obliged to resort to such -dastards!" exclaimed Anne, looking after them while her lips curled -disdainfully. "Oh how I despise them all, royal lover, venal husband, -valet in silken doublet, valet in livery,—all save a single one whom -in my own despite I admire, and another whom I delight to love!" -</p> - -<p> -She entered the room to which the interesting invalid had been carried. -As she approached the couch Ascanio opened his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"It was nothing," said Master André to the duchess. "The young man has -received a wound in the shoulder, and fatigue, some mental shock, or -hunger, it may be, caused a momentary faintness, from which he has -completely recovered, as you see, by the use of cordials. He is fully -restored now, and may safely be taken home in a litter." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good," said the duchess, handing a purse to Master André, who -bowed low and went out. -</p> - -<p> -"Where am I?" said Ascanio, seeking to collect his thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -"You are with me, at my home, Ascanio," the duchess replied. -</p> - -<p> -"At your home, madame? Ah! yes, I recognize you; you are Madame -d'Etampes, and I remember too—Where is Benvenuto? Where is my -master?" -</p> - -<p> -"Do not stir, Ascanio; your master is safe, never fear. He is dining -peaceably at home at the present moment." -</p> - -<p> -"But how does it happen that he left me here?" -</p> - -<p> -"You lost consciousness, and he trusted you to my care." -</p> - -<p> -"And you assure me, madame, that he is in no danger; that he went from -here unharmed?" -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you again, I promise you, Ascanio, that he has never been less -exposed to danger than at this moment. Ungrateful boy, when I, Duchesse -d'Etampes, am watching over him and caring for him with the tender -solicitude of a sister, to persist in speaking of his master!" -</p> - -<p> -"O madame, I pray you pardon me, and accept my thanks!" said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed, it's high time!" rejoined the duchess, shaking her pretty head -with a sly smile. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon she began to speak, giving to every word a tender intonation, -and to the simplest phrases the subtlest of meanings, asking every -question greedily and at the same time with respect, and listening to -every reply as if her destiny depended upon it. She was humble, soft and -caressing as a cat, quick to grasp every cue, like a consummate actress, -leading Ascanio gently back to the subject if he wandered from it, and -giving him all the credit for ideas which she evolved and cunningly led -up to; seeming to distrust herself, and listening to him as if he were -an oracle; exerting to the utmost the cultivated, charming intellect -which, as we have said, caused her to be called the loveliest of -blue-stockings and the most learned of beauties. In short, this -interview became in her hands the most cajoling flattery, and the -cleverest of seductions. As the youth for the third or fourth time made -ready to take his leave, she said, still detaining him:— -</p> - -<p> -"You speak, Ascanio, with so much eloquence and fire of your goldsmith's -art, that it is a perfect revelation to me, and henceforth I shall see -the conception of a master where I have hitherto seen only an ornament. -In your opinion Benvenuto is the great master of the art?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame, he has surpassed the divine Michel-Angelo himself." -</p> - -<p> -"I am pleased to hear it. You lessen the ill will I bear him on account -of his rude behavior to me. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! you must not mind his roughness, madame. His brusque manner -conceals a most ardent and devoted heart; but Benvenuto is at the same -time the most impatient and fiery of men. He thought that you were -making him wait in mere sport, and the insult—" -</p> - -<p> -"Say the mischief," rejoined the duchess with the simulated confusion of -a spoiled child. "It is the truth that I was not dressed when your -master arrived, and I simply prolonged my toilet a little. It was wrong, -very wrong. You see that I confess my sins to you freely. I knew not -that you were with him," she added eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"True, madame, but Cellini, who is not very sagacious, I admit, and whose -confidence has been sadly abused, deems you to be—I may say it to -you who are so gracious and kind—very wicked and very terrible, and -he thought that he detected an insult in what was nothing more than -child's play." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think so?" queried the duchess, unable wholly to repress a -mocking smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, forgive him, madame! he is noble-hearted and generous, and if he -knew you as you are, believe me, he would ask your pardon for his error -on his knees." -</p> - -<p> -"Say no more, I pray you! Do you think to make me love him now? I bear -him a grudge, I tell you, and, to begin with, I propose to raise up a -rival." -</p> - -<p> -"That will be difficult, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"No, Ascanio, for you, his pupil, shall be the rival. Allow me, at -least, if I must do homage to this great genius who detests me, to do it -indirectly. Say, will you, of whose charming inventive talent Cellini -himself boasts, refuse to place your talent at my service? And since you -do not share your master's prejudices against my person, will you not -prove it to me by consenting to assist in embellishing it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame, all that I am and all the power I have is at your service. You -are so kind to me, you have inquired with so much interest concerning my -past and my hopes for the future, that I am henceforth devoted to you -heart and soul." -</p> - -<p> -"Child, I have done nothing yet, and I ask nothing from you at present -except a little of your talent. Tell me, have you not seen some jewel of -surpassing beauty in your dreams? I have superb pearls; into what -marvellous creation would you like to transform them, my pretty wizard? -Shall I confide to you an idea of my own? A moment since, as you lay in -yonder room with pale cheeks and head thrown back, I fancied that I saw -a beautiful lily whose stalk was bending in the wind. Make me a lily of -pearls and silver to wear in my corsage," said the enchantress, placing -her hand upon her heart. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! madame, such kindness—" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, do you care to repay my kindness, as you call it? Promise me -that you will take me for your confidante, your friend, that you will -hide nothing from me of your acts, your plans, your sorrows, for I see -that you are unhappy. Promise to come to me when you stand in need of -help or counsel." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, madame, you bestow one favor more upon me, rather than ask a proof -of my gratitude." -</p> - -<p> -"However that may be, you promise?" -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! I would have given you the promise yesterday, madame; for -yesterday I might have thought that I might some day need your help or -counsel; but to-day it is in no one's power to help me." -</p> - -<p> -"Who knows?" -</p> - -<p> -"I know, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah me! Ascanio, you are unhappy, you are unhappy, you cannot deceive -me." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio sadly shook his head. -</p> - -<p> -"You are disingenuous with a friend, Ascanio; 't is not well done of -you," the duchess continued, taking the young man's hand, and softly -pressing it. -</p> - -<p> -"My master must be anxious, madame, and I am afraid that my presence -discommodes you. I feel quite well again. Allow me to withdraw." -</p> - -<p> -"How eager you are to leave me! Wait at least until a litter is prepared -for you. Do not resist; it is the doctor's order, and my own." -</p> - -<p> -Anne called a servant, and gave him the necessary orders, then bade -Isabeau bring her pearls and some of her jewels, which she handed to -Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"How I restore your freedom," she said; "but when you are fully restored -to health, my lily will be the first thing you give your mind to, will -it not? Meanwhile, think upon it, I beg you, and as soon as you have -finished your design come and show it to me." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Madame la Duchesse." -</p> - -<p> -"And do you not wish me to think upon how I can be of service to you, -and to do whatever you wish, since you are doing for me what I wish? -Come, Ascanio, come, my child, and tell me what you sigh for? For at -your age one seeks in vain to still the heating of his heart, turn his -eyes away, and close his lips,—one always sighs for something. Do you -deem me to be so devoid of power and influence that you disdain to make -me your confidante?" -</p> - -<p> -"I know, madame," rejoined Ascanio, "that you enjoy all the power which -you deserve. But no human power will avail to help me in my present -plight." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me all the same," said the duchess; "I insist!" Then, with -fascinating coquetry, softening her voice and her expression, she added, -"I beseech you!" -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! alas! madame," cried Ascanio, as his grief overflowed. "Alas! -since you speak so kindly to me, and since my departure will cover my -shame and tears, I will do, not as I should have done yesterday, address -a prayer to the duchess, but make a confidante of the woman. Yesterday I -would have said, 'I love Colombe, and I am happy!' To-day I will say, -'Colombe does not love me, and there is nothing left for me to do but to -die!' Adieu, madame, and pity me!" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio hurriedly kissed Madame d'Etampes's hand, as she stood mute and -motionless, and vanished. -</p> - -<p> -"A rival! a rival!" said Anne, as if awaking from a dream; "but she does -not love him, and he shall love me, for I will have it so! Oh yes! I -swear that he shall love me, and that I will kill Benvenuto!" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_5_1" id="Footnote_5_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_1"><span class="label">[5]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Standing alone beside my window,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">One morning as the day was breaking,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">I saw at my left hand Aurora</span><br /> -<span class="i0">To Phœbus pointing out his daily road;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">And on the other hand my sweetheart combing</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Her golden locks; I saw her beaming eyes</span><br /> -<span class="i0">That shone so lovingly upon me,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">That I was fain to cry aloud:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">"Immortal Gods! return to your abodes celestial,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Her loveliness doth put yours to the blush."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_6_1" id="Footnote_6_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_1"><span class="label">[6]</span></a>"Je dis beau, c'est bon que je devrais dire."</p></div> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap14"></a></h4> - -<h4>XIV -<br /><br /> -WHEREIN IT IS PROVEN THAT SORROW IS THE<br /> -GROUNDWORK OF THE LIFE OF MAN</h4> - -<p> -We ask pardon for the bitter misanthropy of this title. It is the fact -that the present chapter will exhibit scarcely any other coherent -principle than sorrow, and therein will resemble life. The reflection is -not new, as a celebrated character in comic opera would say, but it is -consoling, in that it will perhaps he accepted as an apology by the -reader, whom we are about to lead, even as Virgil led Dante, from -despair to despair. -</p> - -<p> -No offence is intended either to the reader or to Virgil. -</p> - -<p> -Our friends, in very truth, at the moment at which we have now arrived, -mere all, beginning with Benvenuto and ending with Jacques Aubry, -plunged in melancholy, and we are about to see them gradually engulfed -in the dark rising tide of sorrow. -</p> - -<p> -We left Benvenuto exceedingly anxious concerning Ascanio's condition. On -his return to the Grand-Nesle, he thought but little of the wrath of -Madame d'Etampes, I promise you. His sole preoccupation was his dear -invalid. So it was that his joy knew no hounds when the door opened to -give admission to a litter, and Ascanio, leaping lightly to the ground, -grasped his hand, and assured him that he was no worse than in the -morning. But Benvenuto's brow quickly grew dark at the apprentice's -first words, and he listened with an expression of peculiar -dissatisfaction while the younger man said:— -</p> - -<p> -"Master, I propose to show you that you have done a wrong for which you -must make amends, and I am sure that you will thank me instead of -hearing me ill will for it. You are mistaken with relation to Madame -d'Etampes; she neither despises nor hates you; on the contrary, she -honors and admires you, and you must agree that you were very rude in -your treatment of her,—a woman and a duchess. Master, Madame -d'Etampes is not only as beautiful as a goddess, she is as kind as an -angel, modest and enthusiastic, simple-minded and noble, and at heart -her disposition is lovely. What you deemed insulting insolence this -morning was nothing more than childish mischief. I implore you, for your -own sake—you surely would not be unjust—as well as for mine, -whom she made welcome and cared for with such touching kindness, not to -persist in your insulting contempt for her. I will answer for it that -you will have no difficulty in persuading her—But you do not -answer me, dear master. You shake your head. Can it be that I have -wounded you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Hark ye, my child," rejoined Benvenuto gravely. "I have often told you -that in my view there is but one thing in the world forever beautiful, -forever young, forever fruitful, and that is art divine. And yet, I -think, I hope, I know, that in certain tender hearts love also counts -for much,—a deep and noble sentiment, which may make happy a whole -life; but it is very rare. For what is love in most cases? A fancy of a -day, a joyous intimacy, in which both parties are deceived, and very -often in the best of faith. I make sport of this love, as it is called, -Ascanio, with great freedom as you know; I laugh at its high-flown -pretensions and its stilted language. I do not slander it. To say truth, -it rather pleases me; it has <i>in petto</i> all the joy, all the -sweetness, all the jealousy of a serious passion, but its wounds are not -mortal. Comedy or tragedy, after a certain time one hardly remembers it -save as a sort of theatrical performance. And then, Ascanio, while women -are charming creatures, to my mind all save a very few do not deserve -and do not understand anything more than this passing fancy. To give -them more, one must be a dupe or an imprudent fool. Take Scozzone, for -example: if she should enter my heart, she would be terrified at what -she saw therein; I leave her at the threshold, and she sings and dances, -she is light of heart and happy. Moreover, Ascanio, these ever changing -alliances have a less durable basis, which however is all-sufficient for -the artist,—the worship of form, and the adoration of pure beauty. -That is their serious side, and it is on account of that I say no ill of -them, although I laugh at them. But, Ascanio, mark this: there are other -passions which do not make me laugh, but make me -tremble,—terrible, insensate passions, as impossible as things we -see in dreams." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" thought Ascanio, "can he have learned aught of my mad -passion for Colombe?" -</p> - -<p> -"They afford neither pleasure nor happiness," continued Cellini, "and -yet they take possession of one's whole being; they are vampires which -slowly drink your whole existence, which devour your heart little by -little; they hold you in a deathly embrace, and you cannot extricate -yourself. Ascanio, Ascanio, beware of such a passion. 'T is clear that -they are mere chimeras, and that they can in no way profit one, and yet -men who know this well plunge into them body and soul, and abandon their -lives to them almost with joy." -</p> - -<p> -"He has that in his mind! he knows all!" said Ascanio to himself. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear son," pursued Benvenuto, "if there still is time, break these -bonds which would hold you fast forever; you will bear the mark of them, -but try at least to save your life." -</p> - -<p> -"Who told you that I love her, in God's name?" demanded the apprentice. -</p> - -<p> -"If you do not love her, God be praised!" exclaimed Benvenuto, thinking -that Ascanio denied the impeachment, when he simply asked a question. -"Beware at all events, for I saw this morning that she loves you." -</p> - -<p> -"This morning! Of whom are you speaking? What do you mean?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of whom am I speaking? of Madame d'Etampes." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame d'Etampes!" echoed the bewildered apprentice. "Why, master you -are wrong, it's not possible. You say that you saw that Madame d'Etampes -loves me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, I am forty years old; I have lived, and I know whereof I -speak. By her manner of looking at you, by the favorable opinion which -she has succeeded in leading you to form of her, I would dare swear that -she loves you; and from the enthusiasm with which you defended her just -now I was much afraid that you had fallen in love with her as well. In -that case, dear Ascanio, you would be lost: her love, hot enough to -consume your whole being, when it left you, would leave you with no -illusion, no faith, no hope, and you would have no other resource but to -love others as you had been loved yourself, and to carry to other hearts -the havoc that had been wrought in your own." -</p> - -<p> -"Master," said Ascanio, "I do not know whether Ha dame d'Etampes loves -me, but I am perfectly sure that I do not love Madame d'Etampes." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was no more than half convinced by Ascanio's apparent -sincerity, for he thought that he might be deceived as to his own -feelings. He said nothing more on the subject, and in the days which -followed often gazed at the apprentice with a sad face. -</p> - -<p> -It should be said, however, that he did not seem to be troubled -exclusively on Ascanio's account. He gave every indication of being -tormented by some personal distress. He lost his frank, joyous manner, -and no longer indulged in his original pranks of former days. He always -secluded himself during the forenoon in his room over the foundry, and -had given explicit orders that he should not be disturbed there. The -rest of the day he worked at the gigantic statue of Mars with his -accustomed ardor, but without talking about it with his accustomed -effusiveness. Especially in Ascanio's presence did he seem gloomy, -embarrassed, and almost shamefaced. He seemed to avoid his dear pupil as -if he were his creditor or his judge. In short, it was easy to see that -some great sorrow or some great passion had found its way into that -manly heart, and was laying it waste. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio was hardly more happy; he was persuaded, as he had said to -Madame d'Etampes, that Colombe did not love him. Comte d'Orbec, whom he -knew only by name, was, in his jealous thoughts, a young and attractive -nobleman, and Messire d'Estourville's daughter, the happy betrothed of a -well favored, nobly born lover, had never for an instant thought of an -obscure artist. Even if he had retained the vague and fleeting hope -which never deserts a heart overflowing with love, he had himself -destroyed his last chance if Madame d'Etampes was really in love with -him, by disclosing to her the name of her rival. This proposed marriage, -which she might perhaps have prevented, she would now do everything in -her power to hasten forward; and poor Colombe would feel the full force -of her hatred. Yes, Benvenuto was right; that woman's love was in very -truth a terrible and deadly thing; but Colombe's love would surely be -the sublime, celestial sentiment of which the master had first spoken, -and alas! that immeasurable blessing was destined for another! -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio was in despair; he had believed in Madame d'Etampes's -friendship, and now it seemed that this deceitful friendship was a -dangerous passion; he had hoped for Colombe's love, and it seemed that -her supposititious passion was nothing more than indifferent friendship. -He felt that he almost hated both these women, who had so falsified his -dreams in that each of them regarded him as he would have liked to be -regarded by the other. -</p> - -<p> -Entirely absorbed by a feeling of hopeless discouragement, he did not -once think of the lily ordered by Madame d'Etampes, and in his jealous -anger he would not repeat his visit to the Petit-Nesle, despite the -entreaties and reproaches of Ruperta, whose innumerable questions he -left unanswered. Sometimes, however, he repented of the resolution he -made on the first day, which was assuredly cruel to none but himself. He -longed to see Colombe, to demand an explanation. But of what? Of his own -extravagant visions! However, he would see her, he would think in his -softer moments; he would confess his love to her as a crime, and she was -so tender-hearted that perhaps she would comfort him as if it were, a -misfortune. But how explain his absence, how excuse himself in the -maiden's eyes? -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio allowed the days to pass in innocent, sorrowful reflections, and -did not dare to take any decided step. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe awaited Ascanio's coming with mingled terror and joy on the day -following that on which Dame Perrine floored the apprentice with her -direful revelation; but in vain did she count the hours and the minutes, -in vain did Dame Perrine keep her ears on the alert. Ascanio, who had -recovered in good time from his swoon, and might have availed himself of -Colombe's gracious permission, did not come, attended by Ruperta, and -give the preconcerted signal at the door in the wall of the Petit-Nesle. -What did it mean? -</p> - -<p> -It meant that Ascanio was ill, dying perhaps, at all events too ill to -come. At least that was what Colombe thought; she passed the whole -evening kneeling at her prie-Dieu, weeping and praying, and when she -ceased to pray she found that she continued to weep. That discovery -terrified her. The anxiety which oppressed her heart was a revelation to -her. Indeed, there was sufficient cause for alarm, for in less than a -month Ascanio had taken possession of her thoughts to such a degree as -to make her forget her God, her father, and her misery. -</p> - -<p> -But there was room in her mind for nothing now but this: Ascanio was -suffering within two steps of her; he would die before she could see -him. It was no time to reason, but to weep and weep. If he should be -saved, she would reflect. -</p> - -<p> -The next day it was still worse. Perrine watched for Ruperta, and as -soon as she saw her leave the house rushed out to go to market for news -far more than for supplies. Now Ascanio was no longer seriously ill; he -had simply refused to go to the Petit-Nesle, without replying to Dame -Ruperta's eager questions otherwise than by obstinately keeping silent. -The two gossips were reduced to conjectures: such a thing was entirely -incomprehensible to them. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, however, did not seek long for the explanation; she said to -herself at once:— -</p> - -<p> -"He knows all: he has learned that in three months I shall be Comte -d'Orbec's wife, and he has no wish to see me again." -</p> - -<p> -Her first impulse was to be grateful to her lover for his anger, and to -smile. Let him explain this secret joy who can; we are simply the -historian. But soon, upon reflection, she took it ill of Ascanio that he -was able to believe that she was not in despair at the thought of such -a union. -</p> - -<p> -"So he despises me," she said to herself. -</p> - -<p> -All these impulses, indignant or affectionate, were very dangerous: they -laid bare the heart which before knew not itself. Colombe said to -herself aloud, that she did not desire to see Ascanio; but she -whispered, that she awaited his coming to justify herself. She suffered -in her timorous conscience; she suffered in her misapprehended love. -</p> - -<p> -It was not the only passion which Ascanio did not understand. There was -another more powerful, more impatient to make itself known, and which -dreamed darkly of happiness, as hatred dreams of vengeance. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes did not believe, did not choose to believe, in -Ascanio's profound passion for Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"A child who has no conception of what he really wants," she said to -herself, "who falls in love with the first pretty girl he sees, who has -come in collision with the high and mighty airs of an empty-headed -little fool, and whose pride takes offence at the least obstacle. Oh! -when he realizes what true love is, ardent, clinging love,—when he -knows that I, Duchesse d'Etampes, whose caprice rules a kingdom, love -him!—Ah! but he must know it!" -</p> - -<p> -The Vicomte de Marmagne and the Provost of Paris suffered in their -hatred, as Anne and Colombe suffered in their love. They harbored mortal -enmity to Benvenuto,—Marmagne especially. Benvenuto had caused him to -be despised and humiliated by a woman; Benvenuto constrained him to be -brave, for before the scene at the Hôtel d'Etampes the viscount might -have had him poniarded by his people on the street, but now he must -needs go and beard him in his own house, and Marmagne shuddered with -dismay at the prospect. We do not readily pardon those who force us to -realize that we are cowards. -</p> - -<p> -Thus all were suffering, even Scozzone. Scozzone the madcap laughed and -sang no more, and her eyes were often red with weeping. Benvenuto did -not love her. Benvenuto was always cold, and sometimes spoke sharply to -her. -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone had for a long time had a fixed idea, which had become a -monomania with her. She was determined to become Benvenuto's wife. When -she first went to him, expecting to serve him as a plaything, and he -treated her with all the consideration due a wife, and not as a mere -light o' love, the poor child was greatly exalted by such unlocked for -respect and honor, and at the same time she felt profoundly grateful to -her benefactor, and unaffectedly proud to find herself so highly -esteemed. Afterward, not at Benvenuto's command, but in response to his -entreaty, she gladly consented to serve him as model, and by dint of -seeing her own form and features so often reproduced, and so often -admired, in bronze, in silver, and in gold, she had simply attributed -half of the goldsmith's success to herself; for the lovely outlines, -which were so loudly praised, belonged to her much more than to the -master. She blushed with pleasure when Benvenuto was complimented upon -the purity of the lines of this or that figure; she complacently -persuaded herself that she was indispensable to her lover's renown, and -had become a part of his glory, even as she had become a part of his -heart. -</p> - -<p> -Poor child! she did not dream that she had never been to the artist that -secret inspiration, that hidden divinity, which every creator evokes, -and which makes him a creator. Because Benvenuto copied her graceful -attitudes, she believed in good faith that he owed everything to her, -and little by little she took courage to hope that, after raising the -courtesan to the rank of mistress, he would raise the mistress to the -rank of wife. -</p> - -<p> -As dissimulation was altogether foreign to her character, she had avowed -her ambition in very precise terms. Cellini listened to her gravely, and -replied,— -</p> - -<p> -"This requires consideration." -</p> - -<p> -The fact was that he would have preferred to return to the Castle of San -Angelo at the risk of breaking his leg a second time in making his -escape. Not that he despised his dear Scozzone; he loved her dearly, and -sometimes a little jealously, as we have seen, but he adored art before -everything, and his true and lawful wife was sculpture first of all. -Furthermore, when he should be married, would not the husband depress -the spirits of the gay Bohemian? Would not the <i>pater-familias</i> -interfere with the freedom of the sculptor? And, again, if he must marry -all his models, he would commit bigamy a hundred times over. -</p> - -<p> -"When I cease to love Scozzone, and to need her as a model," he said to -himself, "I will find some worthy fellow for her, too short-sighted to -look back into the past and to divine the future, who will see nothing -but a lovely woman and the marriage portion I will give her. Thus I will -satisfy her mania for wearing the name of wife, bourgeois fashion." For -Benvenuto was convinced that Scozzone's desire was simply to have a -husband, and that it mattered little to her who the husband might be. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, he left the ambitious damsel to take what comfort she could -in her fancies. But since their installation at the Grand-Nesle, her -eyes had been opened, and she realized that she was not so necessary to -Cellini's life and work as she thought, for she could no longer with her -gayety dispel the cloud of melancholy which overhung his brow, and he -had begun to model a Hebe in wax for which she was not asked to pose. At -last, the poor child—<i>horribile dictu</i>!—had essayed to -play the coquette with Ascanio in Cellini's presence, and there had been -not the slightest drawing together of the eyebrows to bear witness to the -master's jealous wrath. Must she then bid farewell to all her blissful -dreams, and become once more a poor, humiliated creature? -</p> - -<p> -As to Pagolo, if any one cares to sound the depths of his heart, we -venture to say that he had never been more gloomy and taciturn than of -late. -</p> - -<p> -It may be imagined that the hilarious student, Jacques Aubry, had -escaped this contagious depression of spirits. Not at all; he had his -own cause for rejoining. Simonne, after waiting a long while for him on -the Sunday of the siege of Nesle, returned to the conjugal mansion in a -rage, and had since stubbornly refused to meet the impertinent embryo -lawyer upon any pretext whatsoever. He, in revenge, had withdrawn his -custom from his capricious charmer's husband, but that disgusting -tradesman evinced at the news no other sentiment than the keenest -satisfaction; for although Jacques Aubry wore out his clothes quickly -and recklessly—always excepting the pockets—we must add that -his guiding economical maxim was never to pay for them. When Simonne's -influence was no longer exerted as a counterpoise to the absence of -money, the selfish tailor concluded that the honor of dressing Jacques -Aubry did not compensate him for the loss he suffered by dressing him -for nothing. -</p> - -<p> -Thus our poor friend found himself at one and the same time bereft of -his love and cut short in his supply of clothing. Luckily, as we have -seen, he was not the man to wither away in melancholy. He soon fell in -with a charming little consolation named Gervaise. But Gervaise was -bristling all over with principles of all sorts, which to his mind were -most absurd. She eluded him again and again, and he wore his heart out -in devising means to bring the flirt to her senses. He almost lost the -power to eat and drink, especially as his infamous landlord, who was own -cousin to his infamous tailor, refused to give him credit. -</p> - -<p> -Thus all whose names have figured prominently in these pages were sorely -ill at ease,—from the king, who was very anxious to know whether -Charles V. would or would not conclude to pass through France, to Dame -Perrine and Dame Ruperta, who were much put out at their inability to -continue their gossip. If our readers, like Jupiter of old, had the -wearisome privilege of listening to all the complaints and all the -wishes of mankind, they would hear a plaintive chorus something like -this:— -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry: "If Gervaise would only cease to laugh in my face!" -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone: "If Benvenuto would only have one pang of jealousy!" -</p> - -<p> -Pagolo: "If Scozzone could only bring herself to detest the master!" -</p> - -<p> -Marmagne: "If I might have the good fortune to surprise Cellini alone!" -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes: "If Ascanio only knew how I love him!" -</p> - -<p> -Colombe: "If I could see him for one moment,—long enough to justify -myself!" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio: "If she would only explain!" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto: "If I dared confess my agony to Ascanio!" -</p> - -<p> -All: "Alas! alas! alas!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap15"></a></h4> - -<h4>XV -<br /><br /> -WHEREIN IT APPEARS THAT JOY IS NOTHING MORE<br /> -THAN SORROW IN ANOTHER FORM</h4> - -<p> -All these longings were to be gratified before the end of the week. But -their gratification was destined to leave those who had formed them more -unhappy and more melancholy than ever. Such is the universal law; every -joy contains the germ of sorrow. -</p> - -<p> -In the first place Gervaise ceased to laugh in Jacques Aubry's face; a -change most ardently desired by the student, as the reader will -remember. Jacques Aubry had discovered the golden fetters which were to -bind the damsel to his chariot. They consisted in a lovely ring carved -by Benvenuto himself, and representing two clasped hands. -</p> - -<p> -It should be said that, since the day of the siege, Jacques Aubry had -conceived a warm friendship for the outspoken and energetic nature of -the Florentine artist. He did not interrupt him when he was -speaking,—an unheard of thing! He kept his eyes fixed upon him and -listened to him with respect, which was more than he had ever consented -to do for his professors. He admired his work with an enthusiasm which, -if not very enlightened, was at least very warm and sincere. On the -other hand, his loyalty, his courage, and his jovial disposition -attracted Cellini. He was just strong enough at tennis to make a good -fight, but to lose in the end. He was his match at table, within a -bottle. In short he and the goldsmith had become the best friends in the -world, and Cellini, generous because his wealth was inexhaustible, had -one day forced him to accept this little ring, which was carved with -such marvellous skill that, in default of the apple, it would have -tempted Eve, and sown discord between Peleus and Thetis. -</p> - -<p> -On the morrow of the day when the ring passed from Jacques Aubry's hands -to those of Gervaise, Gervaise resumed a serious demeanor, and the -student hoped that she was his. Poor fool! on the contrary, he was hers. -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone succeeded, as she desired, in kindling a spark of jealousy in -Benvenuto's heart. This is how it came about. -</p> - -<p> -One evening, when her wiles and coquetries had as usual failed to arouse -the master from his imperturbable gravity, she assumed a solemn -expression herself. -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto," said she, "it seems to me, do you know, as if you had -forgotten your promise to me." -</p> - -<p> -"What promise is that, my dear child?" rejoined Benvenuto, apparently -seeking an explanation of her reproach from the ceiling. -</p> - -<p> -"Haven't you promised a hundred times to marry me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I don't remember it." -</p> - -<p> -"You don't remember it?" -</p> - -<p> -"No; I should say that my only reply was, 'This requires -consideration.'" -</p> - -<p> -"Well! have you considered it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"With what result?" -</p> - -<p> -"That I am still too young to be anything else than your lover, -Scozzone. We will speak of it again later." -</p> - -<p> -"And I am no longer foolish enough, monsieur, to be content with so -vague a promise as that, and to wait for you forever." -</p> - -<p> -"Do as you please, little one, and if you are in so great a hurry, go -ahead." -</p> - -<p> -"But what prejudice have you against marriage, after all? Why need it -make any change in your life? You will have made a poor girl, who loves -you, happy, that's all." -</p> - -<p> -"What change will it make in my life, Scozzone?" said Benvenuto gravely. -"You see yonder candle, whose pale flame but feebly lights this great -room where we are: I place an extinguisher over it, and now it is quite -dark. Marriage would do the same to my life. Light the candle again, -Scozzone: I detest the darkness." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand," cried Scozzone volubly, bursting into tears, "you bear -too illustrious a name to give to a poor girl, a nobody, who has given -you her heart and her life, all that she had to give, and is ready to -suffer everything for you, who lives only in your life, who loves only -you—" -</p> - -<p> -"I know it, Scozzone, and I assure you that I am as grateful as -possible." -</p> - -<p> -"Who has gladly done her best to enliven your solitude, who, knowing -your jealous disposition, never looks at the cavalcades of handsome -archers and sergeants, who has always closed her ears to the soft words -which she has not failed to hear, nevertheless, even here." -</p> - -<p> -"Even here?" rejoined Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, here, even here, do you understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Scozzone," cried Benvenuto, "it's not one of my comrades, I trust, who -has dared so to insult his master!" -</p> - -<p> -"He would marry me if I would let him," continued Scozzone, attributing -Cellini's wrath to a rejuvenescence of his love for her. -</p> - -<p> -"Scozzone, tell me the insolent varlet's name. It's not Ascanio, I -hope." -</p> - -<p> -"There is a man who has said to me more than a hundred times, -'Catherine, the master abuses you; he will never marry you, sweet and -pretty as you are; he is too proud for that. Oh! if he loved you as I -love you, or if you would love me as you love him!'" -</p> - -<p> -"Give me his name, the traitor's name!" cried Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"But I simply would not listen to him," continued Scozzone, enchanted at -the success of her stratagem; "on the contrary, all his soft words were -wasted, and I threatened to tell you all if he kept on. I loved only -you. I was blind, and the gallant got nothing by his fine speeches and -his languishing looks. Oh, put on your indifferent air, and pretend not -to believe me! it is all true, none the less." -</p> - -<p> -"I do not believe you, Scozzone," said Benvenuto, who saw that, if he -desired to know his rival's name, he must employ a very different method -from any he had hitherto attempted. -</p> - -<p> -"What, you don't believe me?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"You think that I am lying?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think that you are mistaken." -</p> - -<p> -"In your opinion, then, it's not possible for any one to love me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I don't say that." -</p> - -<p> -"But you think it?" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto smiled, for he saw that he had found a way to make Catherine -speak. -</p> - -<p> -"But there is some one who loves me, and that's the truth," continued -Scozzone. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto made another gesture indicating incredulity. -</p> - -<p> -"He loves me more than you ever loved me, more than you ever will love -me, monsieur, do you understand?" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto began to laugh heartily. -</p> - -<p> -"I am very curious to know who this gallant Médor is," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"His name is not Médor," retorted Catherine. -</p> - -<p> -"What then,—madis?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nor Amadis. His name is—" -</p> - -<p> -"Galaor?" -</p> - -<p> -"His name is Pagolo, if you must know." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! so it's Monsieur Pagolo!" muttered Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it's Monsieur Pagolo," rejoined Scozzone, wounded by the -contemptuous tone in which Cellini uttered his rival's name,—"a boy -of good family, sedate, quiet, devout, and who would make a most excellent -husband." -</p> - -<p> -"Is that your opinion, Scozzone?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it is my opinion." -</p> - -<p> -"And yet you have never given him any hope?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have never listened to him. Oh! I was a great fool! But after -this—" -</p> - -<p> -"You are right, Scozzone; you should listen to him, and reply to him." -</p> - -<p> -"How so? What's that you say?" -</p> - -<p> -"I bid you listen when he speaks to you of love, and not turn him away. -I will attend to the rest." -</p> - -<p> -"But—" -</p> - -<p> -"But, never fear, I have my plan." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>À la bonne heure.</i> But I hope you don't propose to punish him very -severely, poor devil; he acts as if he were confessing his sins when he -says, 'I love you.' Play him a trick, if you choose, but not with your -sword. I ask mercy for him." -</p> - -<p> -"You will be content with my vengeance, Scozzone, for it will turn to -your advantage." -</p> - -<p> -"In what way?" -</p> - -<p> -"It will help to gratify one of your fondest desires." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean, Benvenuto?" -</p> - -<p> -"That is my secret." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, if you knew what an absurd figure he cuts when he tries to be -tender!" said the volatile creature, incapable of remaining sad five -minutes in succession. "And so, naughty man, you are still interested to -know whether any one is paying court to your giddy girl? You do still -love poor Scozzone a little?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. But do not fail to follow the instructions I give you in regard to -Pagolo to the letter." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, don't be afraid! I can play a part as well as another. It won't be -long before he will say to me, 'Catherine, are you still cruel?' and I -will reply, 'What! again, Monsieur Pagolo?' But in a not very indignant -tone, you understand,—encouraging rather. When he sees that I am no -longer harsh, he will think he's conquered the world. But what shall you -do to him, Benvenuto? When shall you begin to take your revenge upon -him? Will it be long drawn out, and very amusing? Shall we laugh?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, we shall laugh," Benvenuto replied. -</p> - -<p> -"And you will always love me?" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto imprinted an assenting kiss upon her forehead,—the best of -all answers, since it answers for everything without answering for -anything. -</p> - -<p> -Poor Scozzone did not suspect that Cellini's kiss was the beginning of -his vengeance. -</p> - -<p> -The Vicomte de Marmagne's wish that he might find Benvenuto alone was -also gratified. This is how it came about. -</p> - -<p> -Spurred on by the provost's anger, goaded by the memory of Madame -d'Etampes's disdain, and influenced above all by his inordinate avarice, -the viscount, having resolved to attack the lion in his den with the aid -of his two sbirri, selected for his enterprise Saint Eloy's day, when -the studio was likely to be deserted, as it was a holiday in the -goldsmith's guild. He was proceeding along the quay, with his head high, -and his heart beating fast, his two bravos walking ten steps behind him. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well!" said a voice at his side: "here's a fine young gentleman -on amorous conquest bent, with his valorous bearing for the lady, and -his two sbirri for the husband." -</p> - -<p> -Marmagne turned, thinking that some one of his friends was speaking to -him, but he saw only a stranger who was going in the same direction as -himself, but whom in his absorption he had failed to observe. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll wager that I have guessed the truth, my fair sir," continued the -stranger. "I will bet my purse against yours, without knowing what it -contains, that you are out on some such errand. Oh, tell me nothing! -it's one's duty to be circumspect in love. My own name is Jacques Aubry; -my profession, student; and I am on my way at present to an appointment -with my sweetheart, Gervaise Philipot, a pretty girl, but, between -ourselves, of appalling virtue, which suffered shipwreck, however, upon -a certain ring. To be sure the ring was a jewel, and a jewel of -marvellous workmanship, nothing less than one of Benvenuto Cellini's -own!" -</p> - -<p> -Until then the Vicomte de Marmagne had hardly listened to the -confidences of his loquacious interlocutor, and had been careful not to -reply. But his interest was aroused by the name of Benvenuto Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"One of Benvenuto Cellini's carvings! The devil! That's a royal gift for -a student to make!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! pray understand, my dear baron—Are you baron, count, or -viscount?" -</p> - -<p> -"Viscount," said Marmagne, biting his lips at the impertinent -familiarity with which the student assumed to address him, but anxious -to find out if he could not procure some valuable information from him. -</p> - -<p> -"Pray understand, my dear viscount, that I did not buy it. No, although -I'm an artist in my way, I don't put my money into such trifles. -Benvenuto himself gave it to me in acknowledgment of my lending him a -hand last Sunday to take the Grand-Nesle from the provost." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you are Cellini's friend?" Marmagne inquired. -</p> - -<p> -"His most intimate friend, viscount, and I glory in it. Between -ourselves it's a friendship for life and death. Doubtless you also know -him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"You are very fortunate. A sublime genius, is he not, my dear fellow? -Pardon me: I say, 'my dear fellow,' but it's simply my way of speaking; -besides I think that I am nobly born, too,—at least my mother used to -tell my father so whenever he beat her. However, I am, as I told you, -the admirer, the confidant, the brother of the great Benvenuto Cellini, -and consequently a friend to his friends, and a foe to his foes; for my -sublime goldsmith doesn't lack foes. In the first place Madame -d'Etampes, secondly, the Provost of Paris, the old villain, and thirdly, -a certain Vicomte de Marmagne, a great, lanky creature, whom you perhaps -know, and who proposes, so they say, to take possession of the -Grand-Nesle. Pardieu! he'll have a warm reception!" -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto has heard of his claim, has he?" queried Marmagne, beginning -to take a very decided interest in the student's conversation. -</p> - -<p> -"He has been warned; but—Hold! I must, not tell you, so that the -aforesaid Marmagne may receive the chastisement he deserves." -</p> - -<p> -"From what you say I judge that Benvenuto is on his guard?" -</p> - -<p> -"On his guard? why, Benvenuto is always on his guard. He has come within -an ace of being assassinated, I don't know how many times; but, thank -God, he has always come safely out of it!" -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean by on his guard?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! I don't mean that he has a garrison, as that old poltroon of a -provost had; no, no, quite the contrary. Indeed, he is entirely alone at -this moment as all the fellows have gone to Vanvres for a holiday. I was -to go myself, and play a game of tennis with him, dear Benvenuto. -Unluckily Gervaise's convenience conflicted with the great artist's, and -naturally, as you will agree, I gave the preference to Gervaise." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case I will take your place with Benvenuto," said Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"Do so; it will be a meritorious action on your part; go, my dear -viscount, and say to Benvenuto from me that he will see me this evening. -Three knocks, rather loud, is the signal, you know. He adopted that -precaution on account of that great oaf of a Marmagne, who is likely, so -he imagines, to try to play him some scurvy trick. Do you know this -Vicomte de Marmagne?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! so much the worse! You might have described him to me." -</p> - -<p> -"What for?" -</p> - -<p> -"So that I might suggest a little game with clubs to him, if I should -fall in with him. I don't know why it is, but although I never saw him, -do you know I particularly detest your Marmagne, my dear fellow, and if -he ever falls in my way, I propose to pummel him in fine shape. But -pardon me: here we are at the Augustins, and I am compelled to leave -you. By the way, what is your name, my friend?" -</p> - -<p> -The viscount walked away as if he did not hear the question. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" said Jacques Aubry, "it seems that we prefer to remain -<i>incog</i>; that's the purest chivalry, or I don't know myself. As you -please, my dear viscount, as you please." -</p> - -<p> -And Jacques Aubry thrust his hands in his pockets and strutted down Rue -de Battoir, at the end of which Gervaise lived, whistling a student's -song. -</p> - -<p> -The Vicomte de Marmagne continued his journey toward the Grand-Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was in fact alone, as Jacques Aubry had said; Ascanio had -wandered away, I know not where, to dream; Catherine had gone with -Ruperta to visit one of her friends, and all the workmen and apprentices -were holiday making at Vanvres. -</p> - -<p> -The master was in the garden working at the clay model of his gigantic -statue of Mars, whose colossal head could see the Louvre over the roof's -of the Grand-Nesle, when little Jehan, who was on guard at the door for -the day, deceived by Marmagne's manner of knocking, took him for a -friend, and admitted him with his two sbirri. -</p> - -<p> -If Benvenuto did not, like Titian, work with his coat of mail upon his -back, he did, like Salvator Rosa, work with his sword at his side, and -his carbine within reach of his hand. Marmagne therefore quickly -discovered that life had gained very little by surprising him; he had -simply surprised an armed man. -</p> - -<p> -The viscount did not even try to dissemble his bravado born of -poltroonery; and when Cellini, in an imperative tone which called for an -immediate reply, demanded why he had come upon his premises,— -</p> - -<p> -"I have no business with you," was his answer; "I am the Vicomte de -Marmagne; I am the king's secretary, and here is an order from his -Majesty," he added, holding a paper above his head, "which allots a -portion of the Grand-Nesle to me; I am here to make provision for -arranging to my taste that portion of the hotel which is allotted to me, -and which I shall occupy henceforth." -</p> - -<p> -With that, Marmagne, still followed by his two sbirri, stalked toward -the door of the château. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto seized his carbine, which was, as we have said, within his -reach, and with one bound stood in front of the door on the stoop. -</p> - -<p> -"Halt where you are!" he cried in a terrible voice, stretching out his -right arm in Marmagne's direction; "one step more, and you're a dead -man!" -</p> - -<p> -The viscount at once stopped short, although after these preliminaries -we might perhaps have anticipated a desperate conflict. -</p> - -<p> -But there are men to whom is given the power to strike terror to other -men's hearts. There is an indescribable something in their look, their -gestures, their attitude, as in the look, the gestures, and the attitude -of the lion. The air about them is instinct with awe; their power is -felt afar off. When they stamp upon the ground, clench their fists, knit -their brows, or inflate their nostrils, the boldest hesitate to attack -them. A wild beast, whose young are attacked, has but to bristle up and -breathe noisily to make the assailant tremble. The men of whom we speak -are living dangers. Valiant hearts recognize their like in them, and go -straight forward to meet them, despite their secret emotion. But the -weak, the timid, the cowardly, recoil at sight of them. -</p> - -<p> -Now Marmagne, as the reader has discovered, was not a valiant heart, and -Benvenuto had all the appearance of a living danger. -</p> - -<p> -And so when the viscount heard the redoubtable goldsmith's voice, and -observed the imperial gesture of the arm extended toward him, he -realized that death for himself and his two sbirri lay dormant in the -carbine, the sword, and the dagger with which he was armed. -</p> - -<p> -Furthermore, little Jehan, seeing that his master was threatened, had -armed himself with a pike. -</p> - -<p> -Marmagne felt that his game was up, and that he would be only too -fortunate if he could extricate himself safe and sound from the wasps' -nest he had stumbled upon. -</p> - -<p> -"It's all right! it's all right! Messire Goldsmith," he said. "All that -we wanted was to know whether you were or were not disposed to obey his -Majesty's orders. You scoff at them, and refuse to abide by them! Very -good! We shall apply to some one who will find a way to compel their -execution. But do not hope that we shall do ourselves the honor of -bargaining with you. <i>Bonsoir</i>!" -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Bonsoir</i>!" said Benvenuto, with his hearty laugh. "Jehan, show -these gentlemen out." -</p> - -<p> -The viscount and his two sbirri shamefacedly retreated from the -Grand-Nesle, cowed by one man, and shown out by a mere boy. -</p> - -<p> -Such was the lamentable result of the fulfilment of the viscount's wish: -"If only I could find Benvenuto alone!" -</p> - -<p> -As he had been even more cruelly treated by fate in the matter of his -desires than Jacques Aubry and Scozzone, who did not even yet detect the -irony of destiny, our valorous viscount was furious. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame d'Etampes was right," he said to himself, "and I am fain to -follow the advice she gave me; I must break my sword and sharpen my -dagger. This devil of a man is just what he is said to be, very -intolerant, and not at all agreeable. I saw it written plainly enough in -his eyes, that if I took another step I was a dead man; but in every -lost cause there is a possibility of revenge. Look well to yourself, -Master Benvenuto! look well to yourself!" -</p> - -<p> -He proceeded to lay the blame upon his companions, who were tried men, -however, and would have asked nothing better than to earn their money -honestly, by slaying or being themselves slain: in retiring, they had -simply obeyed their master's orders. They promised to give a better -account of themselves in an ambuscade; but as Marmagne, to shield his -own honor, claimed that the check he had met with was due to them, he -informed them that he did not propose to accompany them in their next -undertaking, and that they must go through with it alone as best they -could. It was the very thing they most desired. -</p> - -<p> -Having enjoined silence upon them concerning their recent experience, he -called upon the Provost of Paris, and informed him that he had concluded -that the surest way to avoid all suspicion was to postpone Benvenuto's -punishment until some day when, as frequently happened, he ventured into -a lonely, deserted street with a considerable sum of money, or some -valuable piece of his handiwork. Then it would be believed that he had -been murdered by robbers. -</p> - -<p> -It now remains for us to see how the wishes of Madame d'Etampes, -Ascanio, and Cellini were gratified to their increased sorrow. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap16"></a></h4> - -<h4>XVI -<br /><br /> -A COURT</h4> - -<p> -Meanwhile Ascanio had completed the design for his lily, and, perhaps -from mere curiosity, perhaps under the influence of the magnet which -attracts the wretched to those who sympathize with them, he at once -repaired to the Hôtel d'Etampes. It was about two o'clock in the -afternoon, and just at that hour the duchess was sitting upon her -throne, surrounded by a veritable court; but similar orders to those -which were given at the Louvre relating to Benvenuto, were given at the -Hôtel d'Etampes for Ascanio. He was therefore at once escorted to a -reception-room, and his arrival was made known to the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -She trembled with joy at the thought that the young man was about to see -her in all her splendor, and gave certain orders in a low tone to -Isabeau, who had brought her the message, Isabeau returned to Ascanio, -took him by the hand without a word, led him into a corridor, raised a -heavy curtain, and gently pushed him forward. He found himself in the -duchess's salon, immediately behind the arm-chair of the sovereign of -the mansion, who guessed his presence more by the thrill which ran -through her whole being than by the rustling of the curtain, and gave -him her fair hand to kiss over her shoulder, which his lips almost -touched in the position in which he stood. -</p> - -<p> -The lovely duchess was, as we have said, surrounded by a veritable -court. At her right was seated the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, ambassador of -Charles V.; Monsieur de Montbrion, governor of Charles d'Orléans, the -king's second son, was at her left; the rest of the company sat in a -circle at her feet. -</p> - -<p> -With the leading personages of the kingdom—warriors, statesmen, -magistrates, artists,—were assembled the leaders of the Protestant -sect, which Madame d'Etampes secretly favored; great nobles all, and -much courted, who had constituted themselves courtiers of the favorite. -It was a gorgeous throng, and dazzling to the eyes at first sight. The -conversation was enlivened with satirical remarks of all sorts -concerning Diane de Poitiers, mistress of the Dauphin, and the bitter -enemy of Madame d'Etampes. But Anne took no part in this petty warfare -of quips and cranks, save by a word or two thrown in at random now and -then, as, "Softly, messieurs, softly! no abuse of Madame Diane, or -Endymion will be angry!" or, "Poor Madame Diane! she was married the day -I was born!" -</p> - -<p> -Except for these sparks with which she lighted up the conversation, -Madame d'Etampes hardly spoke to anybody beside her two neighbors. She -talked with them in undertones, but with great animation, and not so low -that Ascanio, who was humble and abashed among so many great men, could -not hear her. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Monsieur de Montbrion," said she confidentially to her left hand -neighbor, "we must make an admirable prince of your pupil; he is the -real king of the future, you know. I am ambitious for the dear child, -and I am engaged at this moment in carving out an independent -sovereignty for him in case God should take his father from us. Henri -II., a poor creature, between ourselves, will be King of France; so be -it. Our king will be a French king, and we will leave Madame Diane and -Paris to his elder brother. But we will take with us, with our Charles, -the heart of Paris. The court will be where I am, Monsieur de Montbrion; -I shall displace the sun. We shall have great painters like Primaticcio, -charming poets like Clement Marot, who is fidgeting about yonder in his -corner without speaking, a sure proof that he would like an opportunity -to repeat some verses to us. All these people are at heart more vain -than selfish, and more thirsty for glory than for money. Ant he who has -the greatest wealth, but he who will flatter them most freely, will have -them on his side. And he who has them will be always great, for they -will shed lustre upon any place upon which their rays fall. The Dauphin -cares for naught but jousting! Oh, well! let him keep the lances and -swords, and we will take the pens and the brushes with us. Never fear, -Monsieur de Montbrion, I will never allow myself to be put down by -Madame Diane, the queen in expectancy. Let her wait patiently till time -and chance give her kingdom. I shall have made one for myself twice -over meanwhile. What say you to the Duchy of Milan? There you will not -be very far from your friends at Geneva; for I know that you are not -altogether indifferent to the new doctrine blown over from Germany. -Hush! we will speak of this again, and I will tell you things that will -surprise you. Why has Madame Diane assumed to set herself up as -protectress of the Catholics? She protects, I protest; that's the -difference between us." -</p> - -<p> -With an imperative gesture and a meaning glance, Madame d'Etampes -brought her confidences upon this subject to a close, leaving the -governor of Charles d'Orléans sadly bewildered. He was on the point of -replying, nevertheless, but found that the duchess had already turned to -the Duke of Medina-Sidonia. -</p> - -<p> -We have said that Ascanio could hear all. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," so Madame d'Etampes began, "does the -Emperor finally conclude to pass through France? He can hardly do -otherwise, to tell the truth, and a net on land is always preferable to -a yawning gulf at sea. His cousin Henry VIII. would have no scruples -about kidnapping him, and if he escaped the English he would fall into -the hands of the Turk. By land the three Protestant princes would oppose -his passage. What can he do? He must either proceed through France, or -else—cruel sacrifice!—forego the chastisement of the rebels of -Ghent, his dear compatriots. For our great Emperor Charles is a good -burgher of Ghent. That is very evident in the slight respect which he has -shown on occasion for Royal Majesty. Memories of that sort are what make -him so timid and circumspect to-day, Monsieur de Medina. Oh, we understand -it all! He fears that the King of France will avenge the prisoner in Spain, -and that the prisoner at Paris may pay the balance of the ransom due -from the prisoner of the Escurial. O mon Dieu! let his mind be at ease; -even if he does not comprehend our chivalrous loyalty, he has heard of -it, I trust." -</p> - -<p> -"Most assuredly, Madame la Duchesse," said the ambassador, "we know the -loyalty of François I. when left to his own devices, but we fear—" -</p> - -<p> -The duke paused. -</p> - -<p> -"You fear his advisers, do you not?" rejoined the duchess. "Yes, yes! -Oh, I know very well that advice from a pretty mouth, advice which -should take a clever and satirical form, would never fail of influence -upon a king's mind. It is your duty to think of that, Monsieur -l'Ambassadeur, and take your precautions accordingly. After all, you -must have full powers, or, if not full powers, a little paper signed in -blank, wherein a good many things can be inserted in a few words. We -know how it's done. We have studied diplomacy; indeed, I once asked the -king to make me an ambassador, for I believe that I have a decided -talent for negotiation. Yes, I am sure that it would be very painful for -Charles V. to give up a slice of his empire in order to obtain his -release, or to assure his inviolability. On the other hand, Flanders is -one of the fairest jewels of his crown; it is the inheritance of his -mother, Marie de Bourgogne, and it is hard to renounce the patrimony of -one's ancestors with a stroke of the pen, especially when that patrimony -is a great duchy, which may well be transformed into a little monarchy. -But what am I saying, mon Dieu! I, who have a perfect horror of -politics, for it is universally agreed that politics and women do not go -well together. To be sure, I let fall a word or two thoughtlessly now -and then on affairs of state, but if his Majesty presses me and insists -upon my expressing my thoughts more fully, I beg him to spare me such -tiresome discussions, and sometimes I run away and leave him alone to -dream upon them. You, clever diplomatist that you are, and who know -mankind so well, will tell me that these words tossed into the air are -just the ones which take root in minds like the king's, and that such -words, which are supposed to have been blown away by the wind, almost -always have more weight than a long harangue which is not listened to. -That may be, Monsieur le Duc de Medina, that may be, but I am only a -poor woman, engrossed with ribbons and gewgaws, and you understand all -these serious matters a thousand times better than I; but the lion may -have need of the ant, the skiff may save the ship. We are here to come -to an understanding, Monsieur le Duc, and that's all we have to do." -</p> - -<p> -"If you choose, madame," said the ambassador, "it will be very quickly -done." -</p> - -<p> -"Who gives to-day receives to-morrow," continued the duchess, evading a -direct reply; "my womanly instinct will always lead me to advise -François I. to perform great and generous deeds, but instinct often -turns its back on reason. We must also think of our interest, of the -interest of France, of course. But I have confidence in you, Monsieur de -Medina; I will ask your advice, and upon the whole I think that the -Emperor will do well to rely upon the king's word. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! if you were in our interest, madame, he would not hesitate." -</p> - -<p> -"Master Clement Marot," said the duchess, abruptly breaking off the -conversation, as if she had not heard the ambassador's last exclamation; -"Master Clement Marot, do you not happen to have some flowing madrigal, -or some stately sonnet to repeat to us?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said the poet, "sonnets and madrigals are natural flowers -beneath your feet, and grow apace in the sunshine of your lovely eyes: -half a score of lines have come to my mind simply from looking into -them." -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed, master! Very good! we will listen to them. Ah! Messire le -Prévôt, welcome; pray forgive me for not seeing you at once. Have you -news of your future son-in-law, our friend Comte d'Orbec?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, madame," replied D'Estourville, "he writes that he is to hasten -his return, and we shall soon see him, I trust." -</p> - -<p> -A half suppressed sigh made Madame d'Etampes start, but she said, -without turning toward its author:— -</p> - -<p> -"He will be welcomed by us all. Well, Vicomte de Marmagne," she -continued, "have you found the sheath of your dagger?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, madame; but I am on the trace of it, and I know how and where to -find it now." -</p> - -<p> -"Good luck to you then, Monsieur le Vicomte, good luck to you. Are you -ready, Master Clement? we are all ears." -</p> - -<p> -"The subject is the duchy of Etampes," said Marot. -</p> - -<p> -A murmur of approval ran through the room, and the poet recited the -following lines in an affected voice:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Ce plaisant val que l'on nomme Tempé</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dont mainte histoire est encore embellie,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Arrosé d'eau, si doux, si attrempé,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sachez que plus il n'est en Thessalie;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Jupiter, roi qui les cœurs gagne et lie,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">L'a de Thessale en France remué,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Et quelque peu son propre nom mué,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Car pour Tempé veut qu'Etampes s'appelle,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ainsi lui plait, ainsi l'a situé</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Pour y loger de France la plus belle."<a name="FNanchor_7_1" id="FNanchor_7_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_1" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes clapped her hands and smiled, and all the hands and all -the lips applauded after her. -</p> - -<p> -"Faith!" said she, "I see that Jupiter transported Pindarus to France -when he transported Tempe." -</p> - -<p> -With that the duchess rose, and all the company followed suit. She was -fully justified in deeming herself the veritable queen; and it was a -true queenly gesture with which she took leave of her guests, and it was -as a queen that all sainted her as they withdrew. -</p> - -<p> -"Remain," she said in a low voice to Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio obeyed. -</p> - -<p> -But when all the others had left the room, it was no haughty and -disdainful queen, but an humble and passionate woman, who turned and -confronted the young artist. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, born of humble parents, brought up far from the world, in the -almost cloister-like twilight of the studio, and an unaccustomed guest -in palaces, whither he had accompanied his master only on rare -occasions, was already giddy, confused, dazzled by the light and noise -and conversation. His mind was attacked by something very like vertigo -when he heard Madame d'Etampes speak in such simple terms, or rather so -coquettishly, of such grave subjects, and touch lightly in familiar -phrase upon the destinies of kings and the dismemberment of kingdoms. -The woman, like a very Providence, had in some sort distributed to each -one his portion of joy or sorrow; she had with the same hand rattled -fetters and let crowns fall. And lo! this sovereign of the loftiest -earthly things, proud as Lucifer with her noble flatterers, turned to -him not only with the soft glance of the loving woman, but with the -suppliant air of the slave who fears. Ascanio had suddenly become the -leading character in the play, instead of a simple spectator. -</p> - -<p> -It should be said that the coquettish duchess had skilfully planned and -brought about this effect. Ascanio was conscious of the empire which -this woman assumed, despite his efforts to combat it, not over his -heart, but over his mind; and like the child that he was, he sought to -hide his trouble beneath a cold, stern demeanor. It may perhaps be that -he had seen his spotless Colombe pass like a ghost between the duchess -and himself,—Colombe with her white robe and her luminous brow. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_7_1" id="Footnote_7_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_1"><span class="label">[7]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That lovely valley called the Vale of Tempe,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Whose refreshing shade doth many a tale adorn.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Watered by cool and limpid streamlets,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Is no more to be found in Thessaly:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">For Jupiter, the king who conquers hearts and binds them,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Has bodily transported it from Thessaly to France,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">And in a slight degree has changed its name:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">For <i>Tempe</i> read <i>Etampes</i>; such is his will,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">And he hath so ordained, and placed it there,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">That there might dwell she who is France's loveliest.</span> -</div></div></div> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap17"></a></h4> - -<h4>XVII -<br /><br /> -LOVE AS PASSION</h4> - -<p> -"Madame," said Ascanio, "you requested me to design a lily, do you -remember? You ordered me to bring the design to you as soon as it should -be completed. I completed it this morning, and I have it here." -</p> - -<p> -"We have time enough, Ascanio," said the duchess, with a smile, and in a -siren's voice. "Sit you down, pray. Well, my bonny invalid, what of your -wound?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am entirely recovered, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"So far as your shoulder is concerned; but here?" said the duchess, -laying her hand upon the young man's heart, with a graceful gesture, and -a world of sentiment in her tone. -</p> - -<p> -"I beg you, madame, to forget all that nonsense; I am very angry with -myself for having annoyed your ladyship with it." -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! what means this air of constraint? What means this clouded -brow, and this harsh voice? All those men wearied you, did they not, -Ascanio?—and as for myself, I hate and abhor them, but I fear them! -Oh how I longed to be alone with you! Did you not see how quickly I -dismissed them?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are right, madame; I felt sadly out of place in such a -distinguished company. I, a poor artist, who am here simply to show you -this lily." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! mon Dieu! in a moment, Ascanio," continued the duchess, slinking -her head; "you are very cold, and very sober with a friend. The other -day you were so expansive and so delightful! Why this change, Ascanio? -Doubtless some speech of your master's, who cannot endure me. How could -you listen to him, Ascanio? Come, be frank; you have discussed me with -him, have you not? and he told you that it was dangerous to trust me; -that the friendly feeling I had manifested for you concealed some snare; -he told you, did he not, that I detest you?" -</p> - -<p> -"He told me that you loved me, madame," retorted Ascanio, looking -earnestly into her face. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes was speechless for a moment, in presence of the -thoughts which rushed through her mind. She wished without doubt that -Ascanio should know her love, but she would have liked time to prepare -him for it, and to extinguish gradually, without seeming interested in -so doing, his passion for Colombe. How that the ambuscade she had -arranged was discovered, she must fight her battle in the broad -daylight, and win the victory openly if at all. She made her decision in -a second. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, yes," said she, "I do love you. Is it a crime? Is it a sin even? -Can one command one's love or hatred? You should never nave known that I -love you. For why tell you, when you love another? But that man revealed -the whole truth, he laid bare my heart to you, and he did well, Ascanio. -Look upon it, and you will see there adoration so deep that you can but -be touched by it. And now, Ascanio, you must love me too, mark that." -</p> - -<p> -Anne d'Etampes, a potent, superior nature, disdainful by instinct and -ambitious from weariness of her surroundings had had several lovers -hitherto, but not one love. She had fascinated the king, Admiral Brion -had taken her by surprise, the Comte de Longueval caught her fancy for -the moment, but throughout all these intrigues the head had always taken -the place of the heart. At last, one day she found this young, true -love, tender and deep, which she had so often summoned without avail, -and now another woman disputed its possession with her. Ah! so much the -worse for that other woman! She could not know what an irresistible -passion she had to contend with. All the determination and all the -violent impulses of her heart, she, Anne d'Etampes, would make manifest -in her affection. That woman did not yet know what a fatal thing it -would be to have the Duchesse d'Etampes for her rival, the Duchesse -d'Etampes, who desired to have her Ascanio to herself, and whose power -was such that she could, with a look, a word, a gesture, crush whatever -might come between him and herself. The die was cast, the ambition and -the beauty of the king's mistress were thenceforth to serve no other -masters than her love for Ascanio and her jealousy of Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -Poor Colombe, at that moment bending over her embroidery, sitting at her -spinning-wheel, or kneeling before her prie-Dieu! -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, in presence of so outspoken and so redoubtable a passion, felt -fascinated, carried away, and dismayed, all at the same moment. -Benvenuto had said, and Ascanio now realized, that this was no mere -whim; but he was deficient, not in the strength to struggle, but in the -experience which would have taught him to feign submission. He was -hardly twenty years old, and was too candid to pretend; he fancied, poor -child, that the memory of Colombe, the name of the innocent girl uttered -by him, would be an offensive and defensive weapon, a sword and a -shield, while on the other hand it was sure to drive the shaft still -deeper into the heart of Madame d'Etampes, who perhaps would soon have -grown weary of a love in which she had no rival and no battle to wage. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, Ascanio," she resumed more calmly, seeing that the young man held -his peace, alarmed perhaps by the words she had let fall, "let us for -to-day forget my love, which an imprudent word of yours inopportunely -awakened. Let us think now of yourself only. Oh! I love you more on your -own account than mine, I swear to you. I long to brighten your life as -you have brightened mine. You are an orphan, take me for your mother. -You heard what I said to Montbrion and Medina, and you may have thought -that I am all ambition. 'T is true, I am ambitious, but for you alone. -How long is it since I conceived this project of creating an independent -duchy in the heart of Italy for a son of France? Only since I have loved -you. If I were queen there, who would be the veritable king? You. For -you I would cause empire and kingdom to change places! Ah! Ascanio, you -do not know me; you do not know what a woman I am. You see that I tell -you the whole truth, I unfold my plans to you without reserve. How do -you, in your turn, confide in me, Ascanio. What are your wishes, that I -may fulfil them! What are your passions, that I may minister to them!" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame, I desire to be as frank and loyal as yourself, and to tell you -the truth, as you have told it to me. I ask nothing, I wish nothing, I -long for nothing, save Colombe's love." -</p> - -<p> -"But she loves you not; you yourself told me so!" -</p> - -<p> -"I was desperate the other day, true. But to-day who can say?" Ascanio -lowered his eyes and his voice: "For you love me!" he added. -</p> - -<p> -The duchess was taken aback by this instance of the instinctive -divination of true love. There was a moment of silence, and that moment -sufficed for her to collect her thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, let us not talk to-day of affairs of the heart," she said. "I -made that request once before; I make it again. Love isn't the whole of -life to you men. For instance, have you never thirsted for wealth, -honors, glory?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! yes, yes! for a month past I have most ardently longed for them," -replied Ascanio, always reverting to the same idea in spite of himself. -</p> - -<p> -Again there was a pause. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you fond of Italy?" Anne resumed with effort. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, madame," said Ascanio. "There are flowering orange groves there, -beneath which it is so pleasant to wander and converse. There the bluest -of blue skies surrounds, caresses, and adorns everything that is -beautiful." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, to fly thither with you!—to have you all to myself!—to -be all in all to you, as you would be all in all to me! Mon Dieu! mon -Dieu!" cried the duchess, likewise yielding to the irresistible force of -her love. But she at once recovered herself, fearing to frighten Ascanio -again, and continued: "I thought that you loved art before everything." -</p> - -<p> -"Before everything I love—to love!" said Ascanio. "Oh! it is my great -master Cellini, not I, who throws his whole being into his work. He is -the great, the marvellous, the sublime artist! I am a poor apprentice, -nothing more. I came to France with him, not to acquire wealth, nor -glory, but because I loved him, that's all, and it was impossible for me -to part from him; for at that time he was everything to me. I have no -personal will, no strength independent of his strength. I became a -goldsmith to gratify him, and because he wished it, as I became a carver -because of his enthusiasm for skilful and delicate carving." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well," said the duchess, "now listen: to live in Italy, -all-powerful, almost a king; to patronize artists, Cellini at their -head; to give him bronze, and silver and gold, to carve and cast and -mould; and beyond all that, to love and be loved. Say, Ascanio, is it -not a lovely dream?" -</p> - -<p> -"It would be Paradise, madame, if it were Colombe whom I loved and who -loved me." -</p> - -<p> -"Still Colombe, always Colombe!" cried the duchess. "So be it; since the -subject persistently forces itself into our words and our thoughts; -since your Colombe is here with us, constantly before your eyes, and -constantly in your heart, let us speak of her and of myself frankly and -without hypocrisy: she does not love you, and you know it full well." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no! I do not know it now, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"But how can she love you when she is to marry another?" cried the -duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"Her father forces her, perhaps." -</p> - -<p> -"Her father forces her! And do you think that if you loved me as you -loved her,—do you think that if I were in her place there is in this -wide world any force or will or power that could keep us apart? Oh, I -would leave everything, I would fly from everything, I would run to your -arms, and would give you my love, my honor, and my life to guard! No, -no! I say she does not love you. And now would you have me tell you -something else? you do not love her!" -</p> - -<p> -"What! I not love Colombe! I think you said that I do not love her, -madame?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, you do not love her. You deceive yourself. At your age, one -mistakes the need of loving for love. If you had seen me first, you -would love me instead of her. Oh, when I think that you might have loved -me! But no, no! it is much better that you should choose me in -preference to her. I do not know this Colombe; she is lovely and pure, -and whatever you choose; but these slips of girls know nothing about -loving. Your Colombe would never have told you what I, whom you despise, -have just said; she would have too much vanity, too much diffidence, too -much shame perhaps. But my love is simple, and expresses itself in -simple words. You despise me, you think that I forget my sex, and all -because I don't dissemble. Some day, when you know the world better, -when you have drunk so deeply of life that you have reached the -dregs,—sorrow,—then you will think better of your present -injustice, then you will admire me. But I do not choose to be admired, -Ascanio, I choose to be loved. I say again, Ascanio, if I loved you -less, I might be false, artful, coquettish; but I love you too well to -try to fascinate you. I long to receive your heart as a gift, not to -steal it. What will be the end of your love for that child? Tell me. You -will suffer, my best beloved, and that's all. But I can serve you in -many ways. In the first place, I have suffered for two, and perhaps God -will permit my surplusage of suffering to be credited to you; and then I -lay my wealth, my power, my experience, all at your feet. I will add my -life to yours, and will save you from all sorts of missteps and from all -forms of corruption. To arrive at fortune, or even to attain glory, an -artist must often stoop to base, crawling expedients. You will be beyond -all necessity for that with me. I will lift you ever higher and higher; -I will be your stepping-stone. With me you will continue to be the -proud, the noble, the pure Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"But Colombe! Colombe, madame! Is not she too an immaculate pearl?" -</p> - -<p> -"My child, believe what I say," replied the duchess, relapsing from -feverish exaltation to melancholy. "Your pure white, innocent Colombe -will make your life monotonous and dreary. You are both too divine. God -didn't make angels to be joined together, but to make bad people -better." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess's manner was so eloquent, and her voice so sincere, that -Ascanio was conscious of a thrill of affectionate compassion stealing -over him, in spite of himself. -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! madame," he said, "I see that I am indeed honored by your -affection, and I am very deeply touched; but it is even better to love!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, how true! how true that is! I prefer your disdain to the king's -softest words. Ah me! I love for the first time: for the first time, I -swear!" -</p> - -<p> -"And the king? pray do you not love him, madame?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, I am his mistress, but he is not my master." -</p> - -<p> -"But he loves you!" -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" cried Anne, gazing earnestly into Ascanio's face, and -seizing both his hands in hers: "Am I so fortunate that you are jealous? -Does the king's love offend you? Listen: hitherto I have been in your -eyes the duchess, wealthy, noble, powerful, offering to stir up crowned -heads and overturn thrones. Do you prefer the poor, lonely woman, out of -the world, with a simple white robe, and a wild flower in her hair? Do -you prefer that, Ascanio? Let us leave Paris, the court, the world! Let -us take refuge in some far off nook in your sunny Italy, beneath the -lofty pines of Rome, or on the shores of your lovely Bay of Naples. Here -I am: I am ready. O Ascanio, Ascanio, does it really flatter your pride, -that I would sacrifice a crowned lover for your sake?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said Ascanio, whose heart was beginning to melt in the flame -of so great a passion, "madame, my heart is too proud and too exacting; -you cannot give me the past." -</p> - -<p> -"The past! O you men, you men! always cruel! The past! In God's name -ought an unfortunate woman to be compelled to answer for her past, when -it has almost always been made what it was by events and circumstances -stronger than herself? Suppose that a storm should arise and a whirlwind -carry you off to Italy; when you return, one year, two years, three -years hence, should you take it ill of your Colombe, whom you love so -dearly to-day, because she had obeyed her parents and married Comte -d'Orbec? Would you make her virtue a subject of reproach? would you -punish her for obeying one of God's commandments? And if she had not -your memory to feed upon, if she had never known you,—if, in her -deathly ennui, crushed with grief, forgotten for a moment by God, she -had sought to gain some knowledge of that paradise called love, the door -of which was closed to her,—if she had loved another than her -husband, whom she could not love,—if in a moment of delirium she -had given her heart in exchange for another,—she would then be -ruined in your eyes, dishonored in your heart. She could no longer hope -to be blessed by your love, because she had not an unsullied past to -give in exchange for your heart. Oh! I repeat, it is unjust, it is -cruel!" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame—" -</p> - -<p> -"Who told you that is not my story? Listen to what I say, and -believe what I declare to be the truth. I say again that I have suffered -for both; and this poor woman, whom God forgives, you refuse to forgive. -You do not understand how much greater and nobler it is to raise one's -self from the abyss after falling into it, than to pass close by without -seeing it, having the bandage of happiness over your eyes. O Ascanio, -Ascanio! I deemed you better than the others, because you were younger, -and fairer to look upon—" -</p> - -<p> -"O madame!" -</p> - -<p> -"Reach me your hand, Ascanio, and at one bound I will spring from the -bottom of the abyss to your heart. Will you? To-morrow I will have -broken with the king, the court, the world. Oh, I am valiant in love! -But I do not wish to make myself any greater than I am. It would be but -a trifling sacrifice for me, believe me. All these men are not worth one -glance from you. But, if you would trust to me, dear child, you would -let me retain my authority, and continue my plans for you. I would make -you great, and you men can do without love if you attain glory: you are -ambitious,—you may not know it yet, but you are. As for the king's -love, don't be alarmed about that: I will turn it aside upon some other -to whom he will give his heart while I retain his mind. Choose, Ascanio. -Powerful through my means and with me, or I humble through your means -and with you. Look you: a short time since, as you know, I was in this -chair, and the most powerful courtiers were at my feet. Sit you in my -place: sit you there, and behold me at your feet. Oh, how I love to be -here, Ascanio! oh what bliss to see you and look into your eyes! You -turn pale, Ascanio! Oh, if you would but tell me that you would love me -some day, though not for a long, a very long while!" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame! madame!" cried Ascanio, hiding his face in his hands, and -covering eyes and ears, so conscious was he of the potent fascination of -the aspect and the accent of the siren. -</p> - -<p> -"Do not call me madame, do not call me Anne," said the duchess, putting -aside his hands: "call me Louise. It is also my name, but a name by -which no one has ever called me, and it shall be yours. Louise! -Louise!—Do you not think it a sweet name, Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -"I know one sweeter still," replied Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Beware, Ascanio!" cried the wounded lioness: "if you make me suffer too -keenly, I may perhaps come to hate you as much as I love you." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" replied the young man, shaking his head, as if to avert the -spell: "Mon Dieu! you confuse my thoughts, and overwhelm my heart! Am I -delirious? Have I a fever? Am I dreaming? If I say harsh things to you, -forgive me, for I do it to awaken myself. I see you, lovely, adored, a -queen, here at my feet. It cannot be that such temptations exist except -to lead souls to perdition. Ah! you are, as you say, in an abyss; but -instead of rising out of it yourself, you would draw me in. Oh, do not -expose my weakness to such a trial!" -</p> - -<p> -"There is neither temptation, nor trial, nor dream; there is a -resplendent reality for us both: I love you, Ascanio, I love you!" -</p> - -<p> -"You love me, but you will repent of your love hereafter and will -reproach me some day for what you have brought into my life, or what I -have taken away from yours." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! you do not know me," cried the duchess, "if you think me weak -enough to repent. Stay: will you have a pledge?" -</p> - -<p> -Anne hastily seated herself at a table upon which were writing -materials, and, seizing a pen, dashed off a few words. -</p> - -<p> -"Take this," she said, "and doubt me again, if you dare!" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio took the paper and read:— -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -"Ascanio, I love you: go with me where I go, or let -me go with you where you go. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"ANNE D'HEILLY." -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -"Oh, that cannot be, madame! It seems to me that my love would be a -cause of shame to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Shame!" cried the duchess: "do I know shame? I am too proud for that. -My pride is my virtue!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! I know a lovelier and more saintly virtue than that," said Ascanio, -clinging to the thought of Colombe with a desperate effort. -</p> - -<p> -The blow struck home. The duchess rose, trembling with indignation. -</p> - -<p> -"You are an obstinate, hard-hearted child, Ascanio," she said in a -broken voice: "I would fain have spared you much suffering, but I see -that sorrow alone can teach you what life is. You will come back to me, -Ascanio; you will return wounded, bleeding, heartbroken, and you will -know then the worth of your Colombe and of myself. I will forgive you -then, because I love you; but ere that time comes terrible things will -happen. <i>Au revoir.</i>" -</p> - -<p> -And Madame d'Etampes, wild with love and hatred, left the room, -forgetting that the two lines she had written in a moment of exaltation -remained in Ascanio's hands. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap18"></a></h4> - -<h4>XVIII -<br /><br /> -LOVE AS A DREAM</h4> - -<p> -As soon as Ascanio was out of Madame d'Etampes's presence, the -fascinating influence which emanated from her disappeared, and he could -once more see clearly the condition of his own heart, as well as what -was going on about him. How, he recalled two things he had said. Colombe -might love him, since the Duchesse d'Etampes loved him. Thenceforth his -life did not belong to him: his instinct had served him well in -suggesting these two thoughts to him, but it had led him astray when it -inspired him to give utterance to them. If the honest, upright soul of -the young man had been capable of descending to dissimulation, all would -have been well, but he had simply put the wounded and much to be dreaded -duchess on her guard. The struggle henceforth was to be the more -terrible, in that Colombe only was threatened. -</p> - -<p> -However, this passionate and perilous scene with the duchess was of -service to Ascanio in one respect. He carried away from it a new-born -feeling of exaltation and confidence. His mind, excited by the spectacle -it had witnessed as well as by its own efforts, was more active than -ever, and more inclined to audacious deeds; so that he gallantly -determined to find out what basis there might be for his hopes, and to -sound the depths of Colombe's heart, though he were to find nothing more -than indifference there. If Colombe really loved Comte d'Orbec, why -contend longer against Madame d'Etampes? She might do what she would -with a rebellious, despised, desolate, despairing existence. He would be -ambitious, he would become gloomy and evil-minded; what matter if he -did? But first of all he must put an end to his doubts, and go with a -determined step to meet his fate. If worse came to worst, Madame -d'Etampes's promise would take care of the future. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio arrived at this decision as he returned along the quay, watching -the sun sink in a sea of flame behind the black, frowning Tour de Nesle. -When he reached the hôtel, without delay or hesitation, he went first -to put together a few jewels, then resolutely knocked four times at the -door leading to the Petit-Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine chanced to be in the neighborhood. With astonishment, -mingled with curiosity, she made haste to open the gate. But when she -saw the apprentice, she felt called upon to assume a very frigid -demeanor. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! is it you, Monsieur Ascanio? What do you wish?" -</p> - -<p> -"I wish to show these jewels to Mademoiselle Colombe immediately, good -Dame Perrine. Is she in the garden?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, in her path. But wait, young man, wait for me!" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, who had not forgotten the road, walked swiftly away without -giving another thought to the governess. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us see," said she, stopping to reflect. "I think my best course is -not to join them, but to leave Colombe free to select her purchases and -her gifts. It would not be becoming for me to be there, if, as is -probable, she puts something aside for me. I will arrive when she has -completed her purchases, and then I should certainly be very ungrateful -to refuse. That's what I'll do, stay here and not embarrass the dear, -kind-hearted child." -</p> - -<p> -It will be seen that the good woman was not deficient in delicacy. -</p> - -<p> -For ten days past Colombe had not found it necessary to ask herself if -Ascanio had become her dearest thought. The pure-souled, unsophisticated -child did not know what love was, but her heart was overflowing with -love. She told herself that she did wrong to indulge in such dreams, but -she excused herself on the ground that she certainly should never see -Ascanio again, and that she should not have the consolation of -justifying herself in his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Upon this pretext she passed all her evenings upon the bench where he -had sat beside her, and there she would talk to him, listen to him, and -concentrate her whole soul upon the memory. And when the darkness came -on, and Dame Perrine bade her retire, the lovely dreamer would return to -the house with reluctant steps, and not until she was recalled to -herself would she remember her father's commands, Comte d'Orbec, and the -rapid flight of time. Her sleepless nights were hard to bear, but not -sufficiently so to efface the charm of her visions of the evening. -</p> - -<p> -On this evening, as usual, Colombe was living over again the delicious -hour she had passed with Ascanio, when, happening to raise her eyes, she -uttered a sharp cry. -</p> - -<p> -He was standing before her, gazing at her in silence. -</p> - -<p> -He found her changed, but lovelier than ever. Pallor and melancholy were -most becoming to her ideally beautiful face. She seemed to belong still -less to earth. And so Ascanio, gazing admiringly upon her enhanced -charms, was assailed once more by his former modest apprehensions, which -Madame d'Etampes's passion had dissipated for a moment. How could this -celestial creature ever love him? -</p> - -<p> -The two lovely children, who had loved each other so long without a -word, and who had already suffered so much, were at last face to face. -They ought, no doubt, to have traversed in an instant the space they had -traversed step by step, and separately, in their dreams. They might now -come to an understanding first of all, and then allow all their long -pent-up emotion to find expression in an outburst of joy. -</p> - -<p> -But they were both too timid for that, and although their emotion -betrayed each to the other, their angel hearts did not come together -until they had first made a detour. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, speechless and blushing, had risen to her feet by a sudden -impulse. Ascanio, pale with the intensity of his emotion, repressed with -a trembling hand the rapid beating of his heart. -</p> - -<p> -They both began to speak at once: he to say, "Forgive me, mademoiselle, -but you gave me leave to show you some jewels;" she to say, "I am glad -to see that you are entirely recovered, Monsieur Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -They ceased speaking simultaneously, but nevertheless they had perfectly -understood each other: and Ascanio, emboldened by the involuntary smile -which the incident naturally brought to the maiden's lips, rejoined, -with somewhat more assurance:— -</p> - -<p> -"Are you so kind as to remember that I was wounded?" -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed, yes; and Dame Perrine and I have been very anxious and -astonished not to see you." -</p> - -<p> -"I did not intend to come again." -</p> - -<p> -"Why not, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -At this decisive moment Ascanio was fain to lean against a tree for -support, but in a moment he summoned all his strength and all his -courage, and said breathlessly:— -</p> - -<p> -"I may confess it now: I loved you!" -</p> - -<p> -"And now?" -</p> - -<p> -The question came from Colombe's lips almost without her knowledge: it -would have put to flight all the doubts of an older hand than Ascanio, -but it simply revived his hopes a little. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, alas!" he continued, "I have measured the distance that lies -between us, and I know that you are happily betrothed to a noble count." -</p> - -<p> -"Happily!" interposed Colombe, with a bitter smile. -</p> - -<p> -"What! you do not love the count! Great God! Pray tell me, is he not -worthy of you?" -</p> - -<p> -"He is rich and powerful, far above me: but you have seen him?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, and I was afraid to inquire. Besides, I cannot say why, but I felt -certain that he was young and attractive, and that he was agreeable to -you." -</p> - -<p> -"He is older than my father, and he frightens me," said Colombe, hiding -her faee in her hands with a gesture of abhorrence which she could not -repress. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<a id="figure04"></a> -<img src="images/figure04.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Ascanio, beside himself with joy, fell on his knees, with clasped hands, -pale as death, his eyes half closed, but a sublime light shone out from -beneath his eyelids, and a smile fit to rejoice God's heart played about -his colorless lips. -</p> - -<p> -"What is the matter, Ascanio?" said Colombe in alarm. -</p> - -<p> -"What is the matter!" cried the young man, finding in the excess of his -joy the audacity which sorrow first gave him; "What is the matter! why, -I love you, Colombe!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio! Ascanio!" murmured Colombe, in a tone that was half reproof, -half pleasure, and it must be said, as soft as a confession of love. -</p> - -<p> -But they understood each other; their hearts were united, and before -they were conscious of it, their lips had followed suit. -</p> - -<p> -"My friend," said Colombe, softly pushing Ascanio away. -</p> - -<p> -They gazed into one another's faces in ecstasy: the two angels -recognized each other at last. Life does not contain two such moments. -</p> - -<p> -"And so," said Ascanio, "you do not love Comte d'Orbec: you are free to -love me." -</p> - -<p> -"My friend," said Colombe, in her sweet, grave voice, "no one save my -father ever kissed me before, and he, alas! very rarely. I am an -ignorant child, and I know nothing of life; but I know from the thrill -which your kiss caused me that it is my duty henceforth to belong only -to you or to Heaven. Yes, if it were otherwise, I am sure that it would be -a crime! Your lips have consecrated me your <i>fiancée</i> and your wife, -and though my father himself should say no, I would listen only to the -voice of God, which says yes in my heart. Here is my hand, which is -yours." -</p> - -<p> -"Angels of paradise, hear her and envy me!" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -Such ecstasy is not to be pictured or described. Let those who can -remember, remember, ft is impossible to put upon paper the words, the -looks, the hand-pressures of these pure-hearted lovely children. Their -spotless souls flowed together, as do the waters from two springs, -without changing their nature or their color. Ascanio did not sully with -the shadow of an impure thought the chaste brow of his beloved; Colombe -laid her head in perfect trust upon her lover's shoulder. Had the Virgin -Mary looked down upon them from on high she would not have turned her -head away. -</p> - -<p> -When one begins to love, one is in haste to bring to the support of his -love all that he can of his past, present, and future. As soon as they -could speak calmly, Ascanio and Colombe described to each other all -their sorrows, all their hopes, of the days just gone by. It was -charming to both to find that each had the other's story to tell. They -had suffered much, and they smiled upon each other as they remembered -their suffering. -</p> - -<p> -But when they came to speak of the future, then they became serious and -sad. What had God in store for them for the morrow? According to all -divine laws they were made for each other; but human prejudices would -declare their union ill assorted, monstrous. What were they to do? How -persuade Comte d'Orbec to renounce his wife? how persuade the Provost of -Paris to give his daughter to an artisan? -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! my friend," said Colombe, "I promised you that I would belong to -you or to Heaven,—I see that it must be to Heaven. -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Ascanio, "to me. Two children like ourselves cannot move the -world alone; but I will speak to my dear master, Benvenuto Cellini. He -is powerful, Colombe, and sees all things from a higher level! He acts -on earth as God ordains in heaven, and whatever his will has undertaken -he accomplishes. He will give you to me. I do not know how he will do -it, but I am sure. He loves obstacles. He will speak to King François; -he will persuade your father. The only thing he could not bring to pass -you did without his intervention,—you loved me. The rest ought to be -very simple. You see that I believe in miracles now, my best beloved." -</p> - -<p> -"Dear Ascanio, you hope and I hope. Would you like me also to try an -experiment? There is a person whose influence over my father's mind is -unbounded. Shall I not write to Madame d'Etampes?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame d'Etampes!" cried Ascanio. "Mon Dieu! I had forgotten her." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he told her, simply and without affectation, how he had seen -the duchess, how she had declared her love for him, and how, that very -day, within an hour, she had pronounced herself the enemy of his -beloved. But of what consequence was it? Benvenuto's task would be a -little more difficult, that was all. One adversary more would not -terrify him. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear," said Colombe, "you have faith in your master, and I have -faith in you; speak to Cellini as soon as possible, and let him decide -our fate." -</p> - -<p> -"To-morrow I will tell him everything. He loves me so well that he will -understand me instantly. But what is it, my Colombe? How sad you are!" -</p> - -<p> -Each sentence of Ascanio's narrative had made Colombe doubly conscious -of her love for him by forcing the sharp sting of jealousy into her -heart, and more than once she convulsively pressed Ascanio's hand, which -she held in her own. -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, Madame d'Etampes is very beautiful. She is beloved by a great -king. Mon Dieu! did she make no impression upon your heart?" -</p> - -<p> -"I love you!" said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait here for me." -</p> - -<p> -She returned a moment later with a beautiful fresh white lily. -</p> - -<p> -"When you are working at that woman's lily of gold and jewels," said -she, "glance sometimes at the simple lilies from your Colombe's garden." -</p> - -<p> -With that she put her lips to the flower and handed it to the -apprentice, as coquettishly as Madame d'Etampes herself could have done. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment Dame Perrine appeared at the end of the path. -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu and <i>au revoir</i>!" said Colombe, putting her hand to her -lover's lips with a furtive, graceful gesture. -</p> - -<p> -The governess approached them. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my child," she said to Colombe, "have you given the delinquent a -good scolding, and selected your jewels?" -</p> - -<p> -"Take this, Dame Perrine," said Ascanio, putting the box of trinkets in -the good woman's hands still unopened; "Mademoiselle Colombe and I have -decided that you shall yourself choose whatever suits you best, and I -will come again to-morrow for the others." -</p> - -<p> -With that he ran off with his joy, darting a farewell glance at Colombe, -which told her all that he had to tell. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe sat with her hands folded upon her breast as if to confine the -happiness it contained,—while Dame Perrine was making her choice -among the marvels brought by Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -Alas! the poor child was very soon and very cruelly awakened from her -sweet dreams. -</p> - -<p> -A woman appeared, escorted by one of the provost's men. -</p> - -<p> -"Monseigneur le Comte d'Orbec, who is to return day after to-morrow," -said this woman, "places me at madame's service from to-day. I am -familiar with the newest and prettiest styles, and I am commanded by -Monsieur le Comte and Messire le Prévôt to make for madame a -magnificent brocade gown, as Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes is to present -madame to the queen on the day of her Majesty's departure for -Saint-Germain, four days hence." -</p> - -<p> -After the scene we have described, the reader may imagine the despairing -effect of this twofold news upon Colombe. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap19"></a></h4> - -<h4>XIX -<br /><br /> -LOVE AS AN IDEA</h4> - -<p> -The next morning at daybreak Ascanio, resolved to place his destiny in -his master's hands at once, repaired to the foundry where Cellini worked -every morning. But as he was about to knock at the door of what the -master called his cell, he heard Scozzone's voice. He supposed that she -was posing, and he discreetly withdrew, to return a little later. -Meanwhile he walked about the gardens of the Grand-Nesle, reflecting -upon what he should say to Cellini, and what Cellini would probably say -to him. -</p> - -<p> -But Scozzone was not posing,—far from it. She had never before set -foot in the cell, to which no one, to her great disappointment, was ever -admitted. So it was that the master's wrath was terrible to behold, -when, happening to turn his head, he saw Catherine behind him, with her -great eyes open wider than ever. The imprudent damsel's desire to see -found little to gratify it, after all. A few drawings upon the walls, a -green curtain before the window, a statue of Hebe begun, and a -collection of sculptor's utensils, comprised the whole contents of the -room. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you want, little serpent? Why have you come here? In God's name -will you follow me to hell?" cried Benvenuto at sight of Catherine. -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! master," said Scozzone, in her softest voice, "I assure you I am -not a serpent. I confess that rather than part from you I would joyfully -follow you to hell if necessary, and I come here because it is the only -place where I can speak to you in secret." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! make haste! What have you to say to me?" -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! Benvenuto," exclaimed Scozzone, spying the outlined statue, -"what an admirable figure! It is your Hebe. I had no idea it was so far -advanced; how lovely it is!" -</p> - -<p> -"Is it not?" said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes! very lovely, and I understand that you would not want me to -pose for such a subject. But who is your model?" inquired Scozzone, -anxiously. "I have not seen any woman go in or out." -</p> - -<p> -"Hush! Come, my dear girl, you surely did not come here to talk of -sculpture." -</p> - -<p> -"No, master it's about our Pagolo. I did as you bade me, Benvenuto. He -took advantage of your absence last evening to annoy me with his eternal -love, and, as you commanded, I listened to him to the end." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! the traitor! What did he say to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! it's enough to make one die with laughing, and I would have given -anything in the world could you have been there. Please understand that, -in order not to arouse suspicion, the hypocrite finished the clasp you -had given him to make, while he was speaking to me, and the file that he -held in his hand added not a little to the pathos of his speech. -</p> - -<p> -"'Dear Catherine,' said he, 'I am dying for love of you; when will you -take pity on my martyrdom? One word, I only ask for one word. Just see -to what I expose myself for your sake! if I had not finished this clasp, -the master might suspect something, and if he suspected anything he -would kill me without mercy; but I defy everything for your lovely eyes. -Jésu! this accursed work doesn't advance at all. After all, Catherine, -what good does it do you to love Benvenuto? He doesn't thank you for it; -he is always indifferent to you. And I would love you with a love which -would be so ardent and so circumspect at the same time! No one would -discover it, you would never be compromised, and you could rely on my -discretion, whatever might happen. Look you,' he added, made bold by my -silence, 'I have already found a safe retreat, hidden from every eye, -where I could take you without fear.'—Ha! ha! you would never guess -the place the sly rascal had selected, Benvenuto. I give you a hundred, a -thousand guesses; none but men with hang-dog looks, and eyes on the -ground discover such out of the way corners. He proposed to quarter -me,—where do you suppose?—in the head of your great statue of -Mars. 'We can go up,' he said, 'with a ladder.' He assured me that there -is a very pretty apartment there, out of every one's sight, and with a -magnificent view of the surrounding country." -</p> - -<p> -"Faith, it's not a bad idea," said Benvenuto, with a laugh; "and what -reply did you make, Scozzone?" -</p> - -<p> -"I replied with a great burst of laughter, which I could not keep back, -and which sorely disappointed Mons. Pagolo. He undertook then to be very -pathetic, to reproach me with having no heart, and with wishing to cause -his death, and so forth, and so forth. All the time working away with -hammer and file, he talked to me in that strain for a full half-hour, -for he's a loquacious rascal when he gives his mind to it." -</p> - -<p> -"What reply did you give him finally, Scozzone?" -</p> - -<p> -"What reply? Just as you knocked at the door, and he placed his clasp, -finished at last, upon the table, I took his hand, and said to him very -soberly, 'Pagolo, you have talked like a jewel!' That was why you found -him looking so like an idiot when you came in." -</p> - -<p> -"You were wrong, Scozzone; you should not have discouraged him so." -</p> - -<p> -"You told me to listen to him and I listened. Do you think it's so very -easy for me to listen to handsome boys? Suppose something should happen -some fine day?" -</p> - -<p> -"You should not only listen to him, my child, but you must give him an -answer: it is indispensable to my plan. Speak to him at first without -anger, then indulgently, and then encouragingly. When you have reached -that point, I will tell you what else you must do." -</p> - -<p> -"But that may have results you do not intend, do you know? At least you -should be there." -</p> - -<p> -"Never fear, Scozzone, I will appear at the right moment. You have only -to rely upon me, and follow my instructions to the letter. Go now, -little one, and leave me to my work." -</p> - -<p> -Catherine tripped lightly away, laughing in pleased anticipation of the -fine trick Cellini proposed to play upon Pagolo, of the nature of which, -however, she could not form the least conception. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, when she had left him, did not resume his work, as he had -said; he rushed to the window which looked obliquely upon the garden of -the Petit-Nesle, and stood there in rapt contemplation. A knock at the -door rudely aroused him from his reverie. -</p> - -<p> -"Hail and tempest!" he cried in a rage, "who is there now? can I not be -left in peace? Ten thousand devils!" -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me, master," said Ascanio's voice; "if I disturb you, I will go -away." -</p> - -<p> -"What! is it you, my child? No, no, surely not; you never disturb me. -What is it, pray? what do you want with me!" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto lost no time in opening the door for his beloved pupil. -</p> - -<p> -"I interfere with your solitude and your work," said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"No, Ascanio, you are always welcome." -</p> - -<p> -"Master, I have a secret to confide to you, a service to ask of you." -</p> - -<p> -"Speak. Will you have my purse? do you need my arm or my thoughts?" -</p> - -<p> -"I may have need of them all, dear master." -</p> - -<p> -"So much the better! I am yours body and soul, Ascanio. I have a -confession to make to you, too: yes, a confession, for although I have -committed no sin, I think, still I shall have some remorse until I am -absolved by you. But do you speak first." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, master.—But, great Heaven! what is that cast?" cried -Ascanio, interrupting himself. -</p> - -<p> -His eye had just fallen upon the statue of Hebe, and in the statue he -recognized Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"It is Hebe," replied Benvenuto, with glistening eyes; "it is the -goddess of youth. Do you think it beautiful, Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, wonderful! But those features: I know them, I cannot be mistaken!" -</p> - -<p> -"Rash boy! Since you raise the veil half-way, I must needs snatch it -away altogether, and so, after all, your confidence will come after -mine. Sit down, Ascanio; you shall have my heart spread out before you -like an open book. You need me, you say: I, too, need that you should -hear me. I shall be relieved of a great weight when you know all." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio sat down, paler than the culprit about to listen to the reading -of the death sentence. -</p> - -<p> -"You are a Florentine, Ascanio, and I do not need to ask you if you know -the story of Dante Alighieri. One day he saw a child named Beatrice -passing along the street, and he loved her. The child died and he loved -her still, for it was her soul that he loved and souls do not die; but -he crowned her with a crown of stars, and placed her in paradise. That -done, he set about analyzing human passions, sounding the depths of -poetry and philosophy; and when, purified by suffering and -contemplation, be readied the gates of heaven, where Virgil, that is, -Wisdom, was to leave him, he was not obliged to stop for lack of a -guide, because he found Beatrice, that is, Love, awaiting him on the -threshold. -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, I have my Beatrice, dead like the other, and adored as she -was. This has been hitherto a secret between God and her and myself. I -am weak to resist temptation; but my adoration for her has remained -intact amid all the impure passions to which I have yielded. I had -placed my light too high for corruption to reach it. The man plunged -heedlessly into dissipation, the artist remained true to his mysterious -betrothal; and if I have done anything creditable, Ascanio,—if inert -matter, silver or clay, has been made to assume form and life under my -fingers, if I have sometimes succeeded in imparting beauty to marble and -life to bronze,—it has been because my resplendent vision has given -me counsel, support, and instruction for twenty years past. -</p> - -<p> -"But I know not how it is, Ascanio: perhaps there is a distinction -between the poet and the goldsmith, between the moulder of ideas, and -the moulder of gold. Dante dreams: I need to see. The name of Maria is -all-sufficient to him; I must have before me the face of the Madonna. We -divine his creations; we touch mine. That perhaps is why my Beatrice was -not enough, or rather was too much for me, a sculptor. Her mind was ever -present with me, but I was compelled to seek the human form. The angelic -woman who shed a bright light upon my life had been beautiful, most -certainly, beautiful above all in the qualities of her heart, but she -did not realize the type of undying beauty upon which my imagination -dwelt. I found myself constrained therefore to seek elsewhere, to -invent. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, tell me this, Ascanio; do you think that, if my sculptor's ideal -had presented itself to me living on this earth, and if I had bestowed a -share of my admiration upon it, I should have been ungrateful and -faithless to my poetic ideal? Do you think that my celestial apparition -would in that case have ceased to visit me, that the angel would be -jealous of the woman? Do you think it? I ask you the question, Ascanio, -and you will know some day why I ask it of you rather than of -another,—why I tremble as I await your reply, as if you were my -Beatrice herself." -</p> - -<p> -"Master," said Ascanio gravely and sadly, "I am too young to have an -opinion upon such lofty subjects: I think, however, in my heart, that -you are one of the chosen men whom God leads, and that what you find -upon your path has been placed there by God, not by chance." -</p> - -<p> -"That is really your belief, is it not, Ascanio? You are of opinion that -the terrestrial angel, the realization of my longing, would be sent by -God, and that the other celestial angel would not be angry at my -desertion? In that case, I may venture to tell you that I have found my -ideal, that it is living, that I can sec it, and almost touch it. -Ascanio, the model of all beauty, of all purity, the type of infinite -perfection to which we artists aspire, is near at hand, it breathes, and -I can admire, it every day. Ah! all that I have done hitherto is as -nothing compared with what I will do. This Hebe, which you think -beautiful, and which is, in very truth, my <i>chef-d'œuvre</i>, does not -satisfy me as yet: my living dream stands beside its image, and seems to -me a hundred times more glorious; but I will attain it! I will attain -it! Ascanio, a thousand white statues, all of which resemble it, are -already forming and rising in my brain. I see them, I feel their -presence, and some day they will come forth. -</p> - -<p> -"And now, Ascanio, would you like me to show you my lovely inspiration? -it should be close by us. Every morning, when the sun rises, it shines -upon me from below. Look." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto drew the curtain aside from the window, and pointed to the -garden of the Petit-Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -In her leafy avenue Colombe was walking slowly along, her head resting -upon her hand. -</p> - -<p> -"How fair she is, is she not?" said Benvenuto ecstatically. "Phidias and -old Michel-Angelo created nothing purer, and the ancients, if they -equal, do not surpass that graceful young head. How beautiful she is!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! yes, beautiful indeed!" murmured Ascanio, who had resumed his seat, -without strength to move or to think. -</p> - -<p> -There was a moment's pause, while Benvenuto feasted upon his joy, and -Ascanio brooded over his pain. -</p> - -<p> -"But, master," the apprentice timidly ventured to say, "where will this -artist's passion lead you? What do you mean to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio," replied Cellini, "she who is dead is not and cannot be mine. -God simply showed her to me, and did not implant any human love for her -in my heart. Strangely enough, he did not even lead me to feel what she -was to me until he had taken her from the world. She is naught but a -memory in my life, a vague, indistinct image. But if you have understood -me, Colombe more nearly touches my existence, my heart: I dare to love -her: I dare to say to myself, 'She shall be mine!' -</p> - -<p> -"She is the daughter of the Provost of Paris," said Ascanio, trembling. -</p> - -<p> -"And even if she were a king's daughter, Ascanio, you know what my will -is capable of. I have attained whatever object I have sought to attain, -and I never longed for aught more ardently. I know not as yet by what -means I shall gain my end, but she must be my wife." -</p> - -<p> -"Your wife! Colombe your wife!" -</p> - -<p> -"I will apply to my mighty sovereign," continued Benvenuto. "I will -people the Louvre and Chambord with statues if he wishes. I will cover -his tables with ewers and candelabra, and when I ask no other price than -Colombe he will not he François I. if he refuses. O Ascanio, I am -hopeful, I am hopeful! I will seek him in the midst of his whole court. -See, three days hence, when he starts for Saint-Germain, you will come -with me. We will carry the silver salt-box, which is completed, and the -designs for a gateway at Fontainebleau. Every one will admire them, for -they are fine, and he will admire them, and will marvel more than the -others. I will give him a similar surprise every week. I have never been -conscious of a more fruitful creative power. My brain is boiling night -and day: this love of mine, Ascanio, has increased my power and renewed -my youth. When François sees all his wishes gratified as soon as they are -formed,—ah! then I will no longer request, but demand. He will make -me great, and I will make myself rich, and the Provost of Paris, for all -his provostship, will be honored by the alliance. Upon my soul, Ascanio, -I am going mad! Such thoughts make me lose control of myself. She mine! -Dreams of heaven! Do you realize what it means, Ascanio? Colombe mine! -Embrace me, my child; since I have confessed it all to you, I dare to -listen to my hopes. My heart is calmer now; you have in a measure -legalized my happiness. You will understand some day what I mean by -that. Meanwhile, it seems to me that I love you more dearly since you -have received my confidence: it was good of you to listen. Embrace me, -dear Ascanio!" -</p> - -<p> -"But you do not seem to think, master, that perhaps she doesn't love -you." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, hush, Ascanio! I have thought of it, and then I have envied your -youth and beauty. But what you say of the far-seeing designs of God -reassures me. She is waiting for me to come to her. Whom should she -love? some courtier fop, altogether unworthy of her! Furthermore, -whoever he may be for whom she is destined, I am as nobly born as he, -and I have more genius." -</p> - -<p> -"Comte d'Orbec, they say, is hex <i>fiancé</i>." -</p> - -<p> -"Comte d'Orbec? so much the better! I know him. He is the king's -treasurer, and I go to him for the gold and silver to be used in my -work, and for the sums which his Majesty's bounty allots to me. Comte -d'Orbec is a crabbed, worn out old curmudgeon! He doesn't count, and -there will be little glory in supplanting such an animal. Go to, -Ascanio; it is I whom she will love, not for my sake, but for her own, -because I shall be the demonstration of her loveliness, so to speak, -because she will be appreciated, adored, immortalized. Moreover, I have -said, 'I wish it!' and, I say again, I never have used that phrase that -I have not succeeded. There is no human power which can hold out against -the energy of my passion. I shall, as always, go straight to my goal, -with the inflexibility of destiny. She shall be mine, I tell you, though -I have to turn the whole kingdom topsy-turvy. And if perchance any rival -should block my way—Demonio! let him beware! You know me, Ascanio: I -will kill him with this hand now grasping thine. But forgive me, -Ascanio, in God's name! Egotist that I am, I forget that you have a -secret to confide to me, and a service to ask at my hands. I shall never -pay my debt to you, dear child, but say on, say on. For you, as well as -myself, I can do what it is my will to do." -</p> - -<p> -"You are wrong, master: there are things which God alone can do, and I -know that I must rely upon Him and none other. I will leave my secret, -therefore, between my feebleness and His might." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio left the room. -</p> - -<p> -He had hardly closed the door when Cellini drew the green curtain, and, -placing his table by the window, began to model his Hebe, his heart -filled with joy in the present, and a sense of security for the future. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>END OF VOL. I.</h4> - -<p><a id="part2"></a><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/figure05.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h3>THE SYDNEY LIBRARY EDITION</h3> - - - -<h2>THE ROMANCES OF<br /> -ALEXANDRE DUMAS</h2> - - - - -<h4>Volume XI.</h4> - - - - -<h3>ASCANIO</h3> - - - - -<h4><i>PART SECOND</i></h4> - - - - -<h4>NEW YORK</h4> - -<h4>GEORGE D. SPROUL</h4> - -<h5>Publisher</h5> - -<h5>1898</h5> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h5><i>Copyright, 1895</i>,</h5> - -<h5>By Little, Brown, and Company.</h5> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h5>University Press:</h5> - -<h5>John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.</h5> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>CONTENTS</h4> - -<p class="nind">Chapter -<br /> - -<a href="#chap01_II">I. The Trafficker in his own Honor</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap02_II">II. Four Varieties of Brigands</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap03_II">III. An Autumn Night's Dream</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap04_II">IV. Stefana</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap05_II">V. Domiciliary Visits</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap06_II">VI. Charles the Fifth at Fontainebleau</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap07_II">VII. The Ghostly Monk</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap08_II">VIII. What One sees at Night from the Top<br /> -of a Poplar</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap09_II">IX. Mars and Venus</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap10_II">X. The Rivals</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap11_II">XI. Benvenuto at Bay</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap12_II">XII. Of the Difficulty which an Honest<br /> -Man experiences in Procuring his<br /> -own Committal to Prison</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap13_II">XIII. In which Jacques Aubry rises to Epic<br /> -Proportions</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap14_II">XIV. Of the Difficulty which an Honest<br /> -Man experiences in Securing his<br /> -Release from Prison</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap15_II">XV. An Honest Theft</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap16_II">XVI. Wherein it is proved that a Grisette's<br /> -Letter, when it is burned, makes as<br /> -much Flame and Ashes as a Duchess's</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap17_II">XVII. Wherein it is proved that True Friendship<br /> -is capable of carrying devotion<br /> -to the Marrying Point</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap18_II">XVIII. The Casting</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap19_II">XIX. Jupiter and Olympus</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap20_II">XX. A Prudent Marriage</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap21_II">XXI. Resumption of Hostilities</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap22_II">XXII. A Love Match</a><br /> - -<a href="#chap23_II">XXIII. Mariage de Convenance</a></p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>ASCANIO</h4> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap01_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>I -<br /><br /> -THE TRAFFICKER IN HIS OWN HONOR</h4> - -<p> -It was the day on which Colombe was to be presented to the queen. -</p> - -<p> -The whole court was assembled in one of the state apartments at the -Louvre. After hearing mass the court was to depart for Saint-Germain, -and they were awaiting the coming of the king and queen to go to the -chapel. Except a few ladies who were seated, everybody was moving about -from place to place, laughing and talking. There was the rustle of silks -and brocades, and the clash of swords; loving and defiant glances were -exchanged, together with arrangements for future meetings, of amorous or -deadly purport. It was a dazzling, bewildering scene of confusion and -splendor; the costumes were superb, and cut in the latest style; among -them, adding to the rich and interesting variety, were pages, dressed in -the Italian or Spanish fashion, standing like statues, with arms akimbo, -and swords at their sides. It was a picture overflowing with animation -and magnificence, of which all that we could say would be but a very -feeble and colorless description. Bring to life all the dandified, -laughing cavaliers, all the sportive easy-mannered ladies who figure in -the pages of Brantôme and the "Heptameron," put in their mouths the -crisp, clever, outspoken, idiomatic, eminently French speech of the -sixteenth century, and you will have an idea of this seductive court, -especially if you recall the saying of François I.: "A court without -women is a year without spring, or a spring without flowers." The court -of François I. was a perpetual spring, where the loveliest and noblest -of earthly flowers bloomed. -</p> - -<p> -After the first bewilderment caused by the confusion and uproar, it was -easy to see that there were two hostile camps in the throng: one, -distinguished by lilac favors, was that of Madame d'Etampes; the other, -whose colors were blue, hoisted the flag of Diane de Poitiers. Those who -secretly adhered to the Reformed religion belonged to the first faction, -the unadulterated Catholics to the other. Among the latter could be seen -the dull, uninteresting countenance of the Dauphin; the intelligent, -winning, blonde features of Charles d'Orléans, the king's second son, -flitted here and there through the ranks of the faction of Madame -d'Etampes. Conceive these political and religious antipathies to be -complicated by the jealousy of women and the rivalry of artists, and the -result will be a grand total of hatred, which will sufficiently explain, -if you are surprised at them, a myriad of scornful glances and -threatening gestures, which all the courtier-like dissembling in the -world cannot conceal from the observation of the spectator. -</p> - -<p> -The two deadly enemies, Anne and Diane, were seated at the opposite ends -of the room, but, notwithstanding the distance between them, not five -seconds elapsed before every stinging quip uttered by one of them found -its way to the ears of the other, and the retort, forwarded by the same -couriers, returned as quickly by the same road. -</p> - -<p> -Amid all these silk and velvet-clad noblemen, in an atmosphere of clever -sayings, in his long doctor's robe, stern-featured but indifferent, -walked Henri Estienne, devotedly attached to the cause of the -Reformation, while not two steps away, and equally oblivious of his -surroundings, stood the Florentine refugee, Pietro Strozzi, pale and -melancholy, leaning against a pillar, and gazing doubtless in his heart -at far-off Italy, whither he was destined to return in chains, there to -have no repose save in the tomb. We need not say that the nobly born -Italian, a kinsman, through his mother, of Catherine de Medicis, was -heart and soul devoted to the Catholic party. -</p> - -<p> -There, too, talking together of momentous affairs of state, and stopping -frequently to look each other in the face as if to give more weight to -what they were saying, were old Montmorency, to whom the king had given -less than two years before the office of Constable, vacant since the -fall of Bourbon, and the chancellor, Poyet, bursting with pride over the -new tax he had imposed, and the ordinance of Villers-Cotterets, just -countersigned by him.<a name="FNanchor_8_1" id="FNanchor_8_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_1" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> -</p> - -<p> -Mingling with none of the various groups, taking part in no -conversation, the Benedictine and Cordelier François Rabelais, with a -smile which showed his white teeth, watched and listened and sneered, -while Triboulet, his Majesty's favorite jester, rolled his humpback and -his biting jests around between the legs of the guests, taking advantage -of his pygmy-like stature to bite here and there without danger, if not -without pain. -</p> - -<p> -Clement Marot, resplendent in a brand-new coat as <i>valet-de-chambre</i> -to the king, seemed fully as uncomfortable as on the day of his reception -at the Hôtel d'Etampes. It was evident that he had in his pocket some -poor fatherless sonnet, which he was seeking to dress in the guise of an -impromptu conception. But alas! we all know that inspiration comes from -on high, and we cannot control it. A ravishing idea had come to his mind -unbidden upon the name of Madame Diane. He struggled against it, but the -Muse is a mistress, not a lover; the lines formed themselves without his -assistance, the rhymes matched themselves to one another as if by some -magic power which he could not control. In fine, the wretched verses -tormented him more than we can say. He was devoted to Madame d'Etampes -beyond question, and to Marguerite de Navarre,—that too, was -incontestable,—as was the fact that the Protestant party was the one -toward which his sympathies leaned. It may even be that he was in search -of an epigram against Madame Diane, when this madrigal in her honor came -to his mind; but come it did. And how, we pray to know, when such superb -lines were evolved in his brain in laudation of a Catholic, could he -forbear, despite his zeal for the Protestant cause, to confide them in a -whisper to some appreciative friend of literary tastes? -</p> - -<p> -That is what poor Marot did. But the injudicious Cardinal de Tournon, to -whose bosom he intrusted his verses, deemed them so beautiful, so -magnificent, that, in spite of himself, he passed them on to M. le Duc -de Lorraine, who lost no time in telling Madame Diane of them. Instantly -there was a great whispering among the partisans of the blue, in the -midst of which Marot was imperatively summoned, and called upon to -repeat them. The lilacs, when they saw Marot making his way through the -crowd toward Madame Diane, hastened in the same direction, and crowded -around the poet, enchanted and terrified at the same time. At last the -Duchesse d'Etampes herself left her place, being curious, as she said, -to see how "that knave Marot,<a name="FNanchor_9_1" id="FNanchor_9_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_1" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> who had so much wit, would set about -praising Madame Diane." -</p> - -<p> -Poor Clement Marot, as he was about to begin, after bowing low to Diane -de Poitiers, who smiled upon him, turned his head slightly to glance -about and caught the eye of Madame d'Etampes; she also smiled upon him, -but the smile of the one was gracious, and of the other awe-inspiring. -And so it was with a trembling and uncertain voice that poor Marot, -burning up on one side, and frozen on the other, repeated the following -verses:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Etre Phœbus bien souvent je désire,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Non pour connaître herbes divinement,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Car la douleur que mon cœur veut occire</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ne se guérit par herbe aucunement.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Non pour avoir ma place au firmament,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Non pour son arc encontre Amour laisir,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Car à mon roi ne veux être rebelle.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Être Phœbus seulement je désir,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Pour être aimé de Diane la belle."<a name="FNanchor_10_1" id="FNanchor_10_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_1" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Marot had barely littered the last syllable of this charming madrigal, -when the blues applauded vociferously, while the lilacs preserved a -deathly silence. Thereupon, emboldened by the applause on the one hand, -and chagrined by the frigid reception accorded his effusion on the -other, he boldly presented the <i>chef-d'œuvre</i> to Madame de Poitiers. -</p> - -<p> -"To 'Diane the fair,'" he said in an undertone, bowing to the ground -before her; "you understand, madame, fair in your own right and by -contrast." -</p> - -<p> -Diane thanked him with her sweetest smile, and Marot turned away. -</p> - -<p> -"One may venture to write verses in praise of a fair one, after having -done the same in honor of the fairest," said the ill-fated poet -apologetically as he passed Madame d'Etampes; "you remember, madame, 'De -France la plus belle.'" -</p> - -<p> -Anne replied with a withering glance. -</p> - -<p> -Two groups, composed of acquaintances of the reader, stood aloof from -the throng during this incident. In one were Ascanio and Cellini: -Benvenuto was weak enough to prefer the "Divina Commedia" to airy -conceits. The other group consisted of Comte d'Orbec, the Vicomte de -Marmagne, Messire d'Estourville, and Colombe, who had implored her -father not to mingle with the crowd, with which she then came in contact -for the first time, and which caused her no other sensation than terror. -Comte d'Orbec gallantly refused to leave his <i>fiancée</i>, who was to be -presented by the provost to the queen after mass. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio and Colombe, although they were equally bewildered by their -strange surroundings, had spied each other at once, and from time to -time stealthily exchanged glances. The two pure-hearted, timid children, -both of whom had been reared in the solitude which makes noble hearts, -would have been isolated and lost indeed in that gorgeous and corrupt -throng, had they not been so situated that they could see and thereby -mutually strengthen and encourage each other. -</p> - -<p> -They had not met since the day they confessed their love. Half a score -of times Ascanio had tried to gain admission to the Petit-Nesle, but -always in vain. The new servant, presented to Colombe by Comte d'Orbec, -invariably answered his knock instead of Dame Perrine, and dismissed him -unceremoniously. Ascanio was neither rich enough nor bold enough to try -to buy the woman. Furthermore he had naught but sad news, which she -would learn only too soon, to impart to his beloved; the news of the -master's avowal of his own passion for Colombe, and the consequent -necessity, not only of doing without his support, but perhaps of having -to contend against him. -</p> - -<p> -As to the course to be pursued, Ascanio felt, as he had said to Cellini, -that God alone could now save him. And being left to his own resources -he had, in his innocence, resolved to attempt to soften Madame -d'Etampes. When a hope upon which one has confidently relied is blasted, -one is always tempted to have recourse to the most desperate expedients. -The all-powerful energy of Benvenuto not only had failed Ascanio, but -would undoubtedly be turned against him. Ascanio determined, therefore, -with the trustfulness of youth, to appeal to what he believed he had -discovered of grandeur and nobleness and generosity in the character of -Madame d'Etampes, in an attempt to arouse the sympathy of her by whom he -was beloved with his suffering. Afterward, if that last fragile branch -slipped from his hand, what could he do, a poor, weak friendless child, -but wait? That was why he had accompanied Benvenuto to court. -</p> - -<p> -The Duchesse d'Etampes had returned to her place. He joined the throng -of her courtiers, reached a position behind her, and finally succeeded -in making his way to her chair. Chancing to turn her head, she saw him. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, is it you, Ascanio?" she said, coldly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Madame la Duchesse. I came hither with my master, Benvenuto, and -my excuse for venturing to address you is my desire to know if you were -hopelessly dissatisfied with the drawing of the lily which you kindly -ordered me to prepare, and which I left at the Hôtel d'Etampes the -other day." -</p> - -<p> -"No, in very truth, I think it most beautiful," said Madame d'Etampes, -somewhat mollified, "and connoisseurs to whom I have shown it, notably -Monsieur de Guise here, are entirely of my opinion. But will the -completed work be as perfect as the drawing? and if you think that you -can promise that it will, will my gems be sufficient?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, madame, I hope so. I should have liked, however, to place on the -heart of the flower a large diamond, which would glisten there like a -drop of dew; but it would be too great an expense perhaps to incur for a -work intrusted to an humble artist like myself." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, we can indulge in that extravagance, Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"But a diamond of that size would be worth some two hundred thousand -crowns, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, we will reflect thereon. But," added the duchess, lowering -her voice, "confer a favor upon me, Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"I am at your service, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"A moment since, while listening to Marot's insipid trash, I spied Comte -d'Orbec at the other end of the room. Find him out, if you please, and -say to him that I would speak with him." -</p> - -<p> -"What, madame!" exclaimed Ascanio, turning pale at the count's name. -</p> - -<p> -"Did you not say that you were at my service?" continued Madame -d'Etampes haughtily. "Moreover, my reason for asking you to undertake -this commission is that you are interested in the subject of the -conversation I wish to have with Comte d'Orbec, and it may well give you -food for reflection, if they who are in love do ever reflect." -</p> - -<p> -"I will obey you, madame," said Ascanio, apprehensive lest he should -displease her at whose hands he hoped to obtain salvation. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good. Pray address the count in Italian,—I have my reasons for -requesting you to do so,—and return to me with him." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, to avoid the danger of any further collision with his -redoubtable foe, walked away, and asked a young nobleman wearing a lilac -favor if he had seen Comte d'Orbec, and where he was. -</p> - -<p> -"There he is," was the reply, "that old ape whispering with the Provost -of Paris, and standing so near that lovely girl." -</p> - -<p> -The lovely girl was Colombe, at whom all the dandies were gazing with -admiring curiosity. The old ape seemed to Ascanio as repulsive a -creature as a rival could desire. After scrutinizing him for a moment he -walked up to him, and to Colombe's unbounded amazement accosted him in -Italian, requesting him to go with himself to Madame d'Etampes. The -count excused himself to his fiancée and friends, and made haste to -obey the duchess's command, followed by Ascanio, who did not take his -leave until he had bestowed a significant reassuring glance upon poor -Colombe, who was confounded by the extraordinary message, and more than -all else by the sight of the messenger. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, count, good morning," said Madame d'Etampes, as her eye fell upon -D'Orbec; "I am charmed to see you, for I have matters of importance to -discuss with you. Messieurs," she added, addressing those who were -standing near, "we have still a quarter of an hour to await the coming -of their Majesties, and if you will allow me I will seize the -opportunity to talk with my old friend Comte d'Orbec." -</p> - -<p> -All the noblemen who had crowded about the duchess hastened to stand -discreetly aside; in obedience to this unceremonious dismissal, and left -her with the king's treasurer in one of the window embrasures, as large -as one of our salons of to-day. Ascanio was about to do as the rest did, -but, at a sign from the duchess, he remained. -</p> - -<p> -"Who is this young man?" queried the count. -</p> - -<p> -"An Italian page who does not understand a word of French; you may speak -before him exactly as if we were alone." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, madame," rejoined D'Orbec; "I have obeyed your orders -blindly, without even seeking to know your motives. You expressed a wish -that my future wife should be presented to the queen to-day. Colombe is -here with her father; but, now that I have complied with your command, I -confess that I should be glad to understand it. Do I presume too much, -madame, in asking you for some little explanation?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are the most devoted of my faithful friends, D'Orbec; happily there -is still much that I can do for you, but I do not know if I shall ever -be able to pay my debt to you: however, I will try. This treasurership -which I have given you is simply the corner stone upon which I propose -to build your fortune, count." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame!" said D'Orbec, bowing to the ground. -</p> - -<p> -"I am about to speak frankly to you, therefore; but before all let me -offer my congratulations. I saw your Colombe just now: she is truly -ravishingly beautiful; a little awkward, but that adds to her charm. And -yet, between ourselves, I have racked my brain in vain,—I know you, -and I cannot understand with what object you, a serious, prudent man, but -slightly enamored, I fancy, of youth and beauty, are entering into this -marriage. I say, with what object, for there must necessarily be -something underneath it: you are not the man to take such a step at -random." -</p> - -<p> -"Dame! one must settle down, madame; and the father is an old villain -who has ducats to leave to his daughter." -</p> - -<p> -"But how old is he, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, some fifty-five or six years." -</p> - -<p> -"And you, count?" -</p> - -<p> -"About the same age; but he is so used up." -</p> - -<p> -"I begin to understand, and to recognize your fine hand. I knew that you -were above mere vulgar sentiment, and that yonder child's fascinations -did not constitute the attraction for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Fie, madame! I have never even thought of them; if she had been ugly it -would have been all the same; she happens to be pretty, so much the -better." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, that's all right, count, otherwise I should despair of you." -</p> - -<p> -"And now that you have found me, madame, will you deign to inform -me—" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, it is simply that I am indulging in some beautiful dreams for you," -the duchess interposed. "Where I would like to see you, D'Orbec, do you -know, is in Poyet's place, for I detest him," she added, with a -malevolent glance at the chancellor, who was still walking with the -constable. -</p> - -<p> -"What, madame, one of the most exalted posts in the realm?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, are you not yourself an eminent man, count? But alas! my power is -so precarious; my throne is upon the brink of an abyss. Even at this -moment I am in mortal terror. The king has for a mistress the wife of a -nobody, a petty judge named Féron. If the woman were ambitious we -should be ruined. I ought to have taken the initiative myself in this -whim of his Majesty's. Ah! I shall never find another like the little -Duchesse de Brissac, whom I presented to him; a sweet woman of no force -of character, a mere child. I shall always weep for her; she was not -dangerous, and talked to the king of nothing but my perfections. Poor -Marie! she assumed all the burdens of my position, and left me all the -benefits. But this Féronnière, as they call her, why, it requires all -my power to draw François I. away from her. I have exhausted my whole -arsenal of seductions, and am driven, alas! to my last intrenchment, -habit." -</p> - -<p> -"How so, madame?" -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu, yes, I devote myself almost exclusively to his mind now, for -his heart is elsewhere; you can understand how much I need an auxiliary. -Where can I find her,—a devoted, sincere friend, of whom I can be -sure? Ah! I would repay her with such quantities of gold and such a host -of honors! Seek out such a one for me, D'Orbec. You know how closely the -king and the man are allied in the person of our sovereign, and to what -lengths the man can lead the king on. If we could be, not rivals but -allies, not mistresses but friends; if, while one held sway over -François, the other might hold sway over François I., France would be -ours, count, and at what a moment! just as Charles V. is about to plunge -into our net of his own free will, when we can hold him to ransom on -such terms as we choose, and take advantage of his imprudence to assure -ourselves a magnificent future in case of accident. I will explain my -plans to you, D'Orbec. This Diane who pleases you so much would no -longer threaten our fortunes, and the Chevalier de France might -become—But here is the king." -</p> - -<p> -Such was the way of Madame d'Etampes; she rarely explained her meaning, -but left it to be guessed. She would sow ideas in a man's mind, and set -avarice, ambition, and natural perversity at work; and then she would -conveniently interrupt herself. A great and useful art, which cannot be -too highly commended to many poets and innumerable lovers. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that Comte d'Orbec, eager in the pursuit of gain and honors, -corrupt to the last degree and worn out by years and dissipation, -perfectly understood the duchess, whose eyes more than once during the -interview had wandered toward Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio's noble and straightforward nature was quite incapable of -sounding the depths of this mystery of iniquity and infamy, but he had a -vague foreboding that this strange and ominous conversation concealed -some terrible peril for his beloved, and he gazed at Madame d'Etampes in -terror. -</p> - -<p> -An usher announced the king and queen. In an instant everybody was -standing, hat in hand. -</p> - -<p> -"God have you in his keeping, messieurs," said François as he entered -the room. "I have some weighty news which I must make known to you at -once. Our dear brother, the Emperor Charles V., is at this moment <i>en -route</i> for France, if he has not already passed the frontier. Let us -prepare, messieurs, to welcome him worthily. I need not remind my loyal -nobility of the obligations imposed upon us by the laws of hospitality -at such a time. We proved at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, that we -knew how kings should be received. Within the month Charles V., will be -at the Louvre." -</p> - -<p> -"And I, my lords," said Queen Eleanora in her sweet voice, "thank you in -advance in my royal brother's name for the welcome you will accord him." -</p> - -<p> -The nobles replied with shouts of "Vive le Roi! Vive la Reine! Vive -l'Empereur!" -</p> - -<p> -At that moment something wriggled its way along between the legs of the -courtiers toward the king; it was Triboulet. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," said the fool, "will you permit me to dedicate to your Majesty a -work I am about to print?" -</p> - -<p> -"With all the pleasure in the world, fool," the king replied; "but I -must first know the title of the work, and how far advanced it is." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, the work will be entitled the 'Almanac of Fools,' and will -contain a list of the greatest idiots that the world has ever seen. As -to the progress I have made with it, I have already inscribed upon the -first page the name of the king of all fools past and to come." -</p> - -<p> -"Who might this illustrious worthy be, whom you give me for cousin, and -select for king of fools?" -</p> - -<p> -"Charles V., Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"Charles V.," cried the king; "and why Charles V.?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because there is no other than Charles V. in the world, who, after -detaining you a prisoner at Madrid as he did, would be insane enough to -pass through your Majesty's dominions." -</p> - -<p> -"But suppose that he does pass through the very heart of my dominions -without accident?" -</p> - -<p> -"In that case," said Triboulet, "I promise to erase his name and put -another in its place." -</p> - -<p> -"Whose name will that be?" queried the king. -</p> - -<p> -"Yours, Sire; for in allowing him to pass you will show yourself a -greater fool than he." -</p> - -<p> -The king roared with laughter. The courtiers echoed his merriment. Poor -Eleanora alone turned pale. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good!" said François, "put my name in place of the Emperor's at -once, for I have given my word of honor, and I'll stand to it. As to the -dedication, I accept it, and here is the price of the first copy that -appears." -</p> - -<p> -With that the king tossed a well filled purse to Triboulet, who caught -it in his teeth, and hopped away on all fours, growling like a dog with -a bone. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said the Provost of Paris to the queen, as he stepped forward -with Colombe, "will your Majesty permit me to avail myself of this -joyful moment to present to you under happy auspices my daughter -Colombe, whom you have condescended to receive as one of your maids of -honor?" -</p> - -<p> -The kindly queen addressed a few words of congratulation and -encouragement to poor abashed Colombe, at whom the king meanwhile was -gazing in admiration. -</p> - -<p> -"By my halidome, Messire le Prévôt," said François, smiling, "do you -know that it's nothing less than high treason to have kept such a pearl -so long buried and out of sight,—a pearl so well adapted to shine in -the garland of beauties who surround the majesty of our queen. If you -are not punished, for the felony, Messire Robert, you may thank the mute -intercession of those lovely downcast eyes." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon the king, with a graceful salutation to the charming girl, -passed on to the chapel followed by the whole court. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said the Duke of Medina-Sidonia, offering his hand to the -Duchesse d'Etampes, "shall we not allow the throng to pass, and remain a -little behind? We shall be more conveniently situated here than -elsewhere for a word or two of importance which I have to say to you in -private." -</p> - -<p> -"I am at your service, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," replied the duchess. "Do -not go, Comte d'Orbec; you may say anything, Monsieur de Medina, before -this old friend, who is my second self, and this young man, who speaks -nothing but Italian." -</p> - -<p> -"Their discretion is of no less consequence to you than to me, madame, and -if you feel sure of them—But we are alone, and I will go straight -to the point without digression or concealment. You understand that his -Sacred Majesty has determined to pass through France,—that he is in -all probability already within her boundaries. He is well aware, however, -that his path lies between two long lines of enemies, but he relies upon -the chivalrous loyalty of the king. You have yourself advised him so to -rely, madame, and I frankly admit that, having vastly more power than -any titular minister, you have enough influence over François to set a -trap for the Emperor, or guarantee his safety, according as your advice -is friendly or unfriendly. But why should you turn against us? It is -neither for the state's interest nor your own to do so." -</p> - -<p> -"Go on, monseigneur; you have not said all that you have to say, I -fancy?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, madame. Charles V. is a worthy successor of Charlemagne, and what a -disloyal ally might demand from him as ransom he proposes to bestow as a -gift, and to leave neither hospitality nor friendly counsel unrewarded?" -</p> - -<p> -"Superb! he will act with no less discretion than grandeur." -</p> - -<p> -"King François I. has always ardently desired the Duchy of Milan, -madame, and Charles will consent to cede that province, a never-ending -subject of contention between France and Spain, in consideration of an -annual rent charge." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand," said the duchess, "the Emperor's finances are in a -straitened condition, as everybody knows; on the other hand, the -Milanese is ruined by a score of wars, and his Sacred Majesty would not -be sorry to transfer his claim from a poor to an opulent debtor. I -refuse, Monsieur de Medina; you must yourself understand that such a -proposition could not be acceptable." -</p> - -<p> -"But, madame, overtures have already been made to his Majesty on the -subject of this investiture, and he seemed delighted with the idea." -</p> - -<p> -"I know it; but I refuse. If you can dispense with my consent, so much -the better for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame, the Emperor is especially desirous to know that you are in his -interest, and whatever you may desire—" -</p> - -<p> -"My influence is not merchandise to be bought and sold, Monsieur -l'Ambassadeur." -</p> - -<p> -"O madame, who implied such a thing?" -</p> - -<p> -"Hark ye! you assure me that your master desires my support, and between -ourselves he is wise. Very well! to promise it to him I demand less than -he offers. Follow me closely. This is what he must do. He must promise -François I. the investiture of the Duchy of Milan, but as soon as he -has left France behind, he must remember the violated treaty of Madrid, -and forget his promise." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, that would mean war, madame!" -</p> - -<p> -"Stay a moment, Monsieur de Medina. His Majesty will cry out and -threaten, no doubt. Thereupon Charles will consent to make the Milanese -an independent state, and will give it, free of all tribute, to Charles -d'Orléans, the king's second son; in that way the Emperor will not -aggrandize a rival. That will be worth a few crowns to him, monseigneur, -and I think that you can have nothing to say against it. As to any -personal desires I may have, as you suggested a moment since, if his -Sacred Majesty enters into my plans, he may let fall in my presence, at -our first interview, a bauble of more or less brilliancy, which I will -pick up, if it is worth the trouble, and retain as a souvenir of the -glorious alliance concluded between the successor of the Cæsars, King -of Spain and the Indies, and myself." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess turned to Ascanio, who was as terrified by her dark and -mysterious schemes as the Duke of Medina was disturbed by them, and as -Comte d'Orbec seemed delighted. -</p> - -<p> -"All this for you, Ascanio," she whispered. "To win your heart I would -sacrifice France. Well, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur," she continued aloud, -"what have you to say to that?" -</p> - -<p> -"The Emperor alone can decide upon a matter of such gravity, madame; -nevertheless, everything leads me to believe that he will acquiesce in -an arrangement which almost terrifies me, it seems so favorable to us." -</p> - -<p> -"If it will set your mind at rest, I will say to you that it is in -reality equally favorable to me, and that is why I undertake to make the -king accept it. We women have our own political schemes, more profound -sometimes than yours. But I can promise you that mine are in no wise -inimical to your interests: indeed, how could they be? Meanwhile, -however, pending the decision of Charles V., you may be sure that I -shall not lose an opportunity to act against him, and that I shall do my -utmost to induce his Majesty to detain him as a prisoner." -</p> - -<p> -"What! Madame, is this your way of beginning an alliance?" -</p> - -<p> -"Go to, Monsieur l'Ambassadeur. Can a statesman like yourself fail to -see that the most essential thing for me is to put aside all suspicion -of undue influence, and that to espouse your cause openly would be the -surest method of ruining it? Moreover, I do not propose that any one -shall ever be able to betray me or denounce me. Let me be your enemy, -Monsieur le Duc, and let me talk against you. What does it matter to -you? Do you not know what mere words amount to? If Charles V. refuses to -accept my terms I will say to the king, 'Sire, trust to my generous -womanly instinct. You must not recoil before just and necessary -reprisals.' And if the Emperor accepts, I will say, 'Sire, trust to my -feminine, that is to say, feline sharpness; you must resign yourself to -commit an infamous but advantageous act." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, madame!" said the Duke of Medina, bowing low, "what a pity it is -that you should be a queen, you would have made such a perfect -ambassador!" -</p> - -<p> -With that the duke took leave of Madame d'Etampes, and walked away, -enchanted with the unexpected turn the negotiations had taken. -</p> - -<p> -"Now it is my purpose to speak plainly and without circumlocution," said -the duchess to Comte d'Orbec, when she was alone with Ascanio and him. -"You know three things, count: first, that it is most important for my -friends and myself that my power should at this moment be put beyond -question and beyond the reach of attack; secondly, that when this -arrangement is once carried through, we shall have no occasion to dread -the future, that Charles d'Orléans will fill the place of François I., -and that the Duke of Milan, whom I shall have made what he is, will owe -me much more gratitude than the King of France, who has made me what I -am; thirdly, that your Colombe's beauty has made a vivid impression upon -his Majesty. Very well! I address myself now, count, to the superior -individual, who is not influenced by vulgar prejudices. You hold your -fate in your own hands at this moment: do you choose that Trésorier -d'Orbec should succeed Chancelier Poyet, or, in more positive terms, -that Colombe d'Orbec should succeed Marie de Brissac?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio in his horror made a movement which D'Orbec did not notice, as -he met the searching gaze of Madame d'Etampes with a villanous leer. -</p> - -<p> -"I desire to be chancellor," he replied briefly. -</p> - -<p> -"Good! then we are both saved. But what of the provost?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh," said the count, "you can find some fat office for him; only let it -be lucrative rather than honorable, I beg; it will all fall to me when -the gouty old rascal dies." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio could contain himself no longer. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame!" he exclaimed in a voice of thunder, stepping forward. -</p> - -<p> -He had no time to say more, the count had no time to be astonished, for -the folding doors were thrown open and the whole court flocked in. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes roughly seized Ascanio's hand, and drew him aside with -her, as she said in his ear, in a suppressed voice, trembling with -passion,— -</p> - -<p> -"Now do you see, young man, how one becomes a king's plaything, and -whither life sometimes leads us, in our own despite?" -</p> - -<p> -She said no more. Her words were interrupted by the uproarious good -humor and witty sallies of the king and courtiers. -</p> - -<p> -François I. was radiant, for Charles V. was coming. There would be -receptions, fêtes, surprises,—a glorious part for him to play. The -whole world would have its eyes fixed upon Paris and its king. He looked -forward with childish joy to the performance of the drama of which he -held all the threads. It was his nature to look at everything on the -brilliant rather than on the serious side, to aim more at effect than -anything else, and to look upon battles as tournaments, and upon royalty -as an art. With a mind well stored with strange, poetic, adventurous -ideas, François I. made of his reign a theatrical performance, with the -world for play-house. -</p> - -<p> -On this day, as he was on the eve of dazzling a rival and Europe, his -clemency and benignity were more charming than ever. -</p> - -<p> -As if reassured by his smiling face, Triboulet rolled up to him just as -he passed through the door. -</p> - -<p> -"O Sire, Sire!" cried the fool dolefully, "I come to take my leave of -you; your Majesty must make up your mind to lose me, and I weep for you -more than for myself. What will become of your Majesty without poor -Triboulet, whom you love so dearly?" -</p> - -<p> -"What! you are going to leave me, fool, at this moment when there is but -one fool for two kings?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire, at this moment, when there are two kings for one fool." -</p> - -<p> -"But I do not propose to have it so, Triboulet. I order you to remain." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case pray see that Monsieur de Vieilleville is informed of your -royal pleasure, for I but told him what people say of his wife, and for -so simple a matter he swore that he would cut off my ears in the first -place, and then tear out my soul—if I had one, added the impious -villain, whose tongue your Majesty should order to be cut out for such -blasphemy." -</p> - -<p> -"La, la!" rejoined the king; "have no fear, my poor fool; the man who -should take your life would be very sure to be hanged a quarter of an -hour after." -</p> - -<p> -"O Sire, if it makes no difference to you—" -</p> - -<p> -"Well! what?" -</p> - -<p> -"Have him hanged a quarter of an hour before. I much prefer that." -</p> - -<p> -The whole assemblage roared with laughter, the king above all the -others. As he walked on he passed Pietro Strozzi, the noble Florentine -exile. -</p> - -<p> -"Signor Pietro Strozzi," he said, "it is a long time, altogether too -long, I confess, since you requested letters of naturalization at our -hands: it is a disgrace to us that, after having fought so valiantly in -Piedmont for the French and like a true Frenchman, you do not yet belong -to us, since your country by birth denies you. This evening, Signor -Pietro, Messire Le Maçon, my secretary, will take steps to hasten the -issuance of your letters of naturalization. Do not thank me: for my honor -and your own Charles V. must find you a Frenchman.—Ah! there you -are, Cellini, and you never come empty-handed. What have you under your -arm, my friend? But stay a moment; it shall not be said, i' faith, that -I did not surpass you in munificence. Messire Antoine Le Maçon, you -will see that letters of naturalization are issued to my good friend -Benvenuto at the same time with the great Pietro Strozzi's, and you will -issue them without expense to him; a goldsmith cannot put his hand upon -five hundred ducats so readily as a Strozzi." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," said Benvenuto, "I thank your Majesty, but I pray you to forgive -my ignorance; what are these letters of naturalization?" -</p> - -<p> -"What!" exclaimed Antoine Le Maçon, with great gravity, while the king -laughed like a madman at the question; "do you not know, Master -Benvenuto, that letters of naturalization are the greatest honor his -Majesty can bestow upon a foreigner,—that you thereby become a -Frenchman?" -</p> - -<p> -"I begin to understand, Sire, and I thank you again," said Cellini. "But -pardon me; as I am already at heart your Majesty's subject, of what use -are these letters?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of what use are the letters?" rejoined François, still in the best of -humor; "why they are of this use, Benvenuto, that now that you are a -Frenchman, I can make you Seigneur du Grand-Nesle, which was not -possible before. Messire Le Maçon, you will add to the letters of -naturalization the definitive deed of the château. Do you understand -now, Benvenuto, of what use the letters of naturalization are?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire, and I thank you a thousand times. One would say that our -hearts understood each other without words, for this favor which you -bestow upon me to-day is a step toward a very, very great favor which I -shall perhaps dare to ask at your hands some day, and is, so to say, a -part of it." -</p> - -<p> -"You know what I promised you, Benvenuto. Bring me my Jupiter, and ask -what you will." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, your Majesty has a good memory, and I hope your word will prove to -be as good. Yes, your Majesty, you have it in your power to gratify a -wish, upon which my life in a measure depends, and you have already, by -a sublime instinct worthy of a king, made its gratification more easy." -</p> - -<p> -"It shall be done, my eminent artist, according to your wish; but, -meanwhile, allow us to see what you have in your hands." -</p> - -<p> -"It is a silver salt dish, Sire, to go with the ewer and the basin." -</p> - -<p> -"Show it me quickly, Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -The king scrutinized, carefully and silently as always, the marvellous -piece of work which Cellini handed him. -</p> - -<p> -"What a blunder!" he said at last; "what a paradox!" -</p> - -<p> -"What! Sire," cried Benvenuto, disappointed beyond measure, "your -Majesty is not pleased with it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly not, monsieur. Why, you spoil a lovely idea by executing it -in silver! it must be done in gold, Cellini. I am very sorry for you, -but you must begin again." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! Sire," said Benvenuto sadly, "be not so ambitious for my poor -works. The richness of the material will destroy these treasures of my -thought, I greatly fear. More lasting glory is to be attained by working -in clay than in gold, Sire, and the names of us goldsmiths survive us -but a little while. Necessity is sometimes a cruel master, Sire, and men -are always greedy and stupid. Who can say that a silver cup for which -your Majesty would give ten thousand ducats, might not be melted down -for ten crowns?" -</p> - -<p> -"How now! do you think that the King of France will ever pawn the dishes -from his table?" -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, the Emperor of Constantinople pawned Our Saviour's crown of -thorns with the Venetians." -</p> - -<p> -"But a King of France took it out of pawn, monsieur." -</p> - -<p> -"Very true; but think of the possible risks, revolution and exile. I -come from a country whence the Medicis have been thrice expelled and -thrice recalled, and it is only kings like your Majesty, who are -glorious in themselves, from whom their treasures cannot be taken away." -</p> - -<p> -"No matter, Benvenuto, no matter, I desire my salt dish in gold, and my -treasurer will hand you to-day a thousand gold crowns of the old weight -for that purpose. You hear, Comte d'Orbec, to-day, for I do not wish -Cellini to lose a minute. Adieu, Benvenuto, go on with your work, the -king does not forget his Jupiter; adieu, messieurs, think of Charles V." -</p> - -<p> -While François was descending the staircase to join the queen, who was -already in her carriage, and whom he was to accompany on horseback, -divers incidents occurred which we must not omit to mention. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto walked up to Comte d'Orbec and said to him: "Be good enough to -have the gold ready for me, Messire le Trésorier. In obedience to his -Majesty's commands I go at once to my house for a bag, and shall be at -your office in a half-hour." The count bowed in token of acquiescence, -and Cellini took his departure alone, after looking around in vain for -Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -At the same time Marmagne was speaking in an undertone with the provost, -who still held Colombo's hand. -</p> - -<p> -"This is a magnificent opportunity," he said, "and I shall go at once -and summon my men. Do you tell D'Orbec to detain Cellini as long as -possible." -</p> - -<p> -With that he disappeared, and Messire d'Estourville went to D'Orbec and -whispered a few words in his ear, after which he said aloud,— -</p> - -<p> -"Meanwhile, count, I will take Colombe back to the Hôtel de Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good," said D'Orbec, "and come and let me know the result this -evening." -</p> - -<p> -They separated, and the provost slowly walked away with his daughter -toward the Hôtel de Nesle, followed without their knowledge by Ascanio, -who did not lose sight of them, but kept his eyes fixed fondly upon his -Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile the king was mounting a superb sorrel, his favorite steed, -presented to him by Henry VIII. -</p> - -<p> -"We are to make a long journey together to-day," he said, -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"'Gentil, joli petit cheval,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Bon à monter, doux à descendre.'<a name="FNanchor_11_1" id="FNanchor_11_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_1" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Faith, there are the first two lines of a quatrain," he added; "cap them -for me, Marot, or you, Master Melin de Saint-Gelais." -</p> - -<p> -Marot scratched his head, but Saint-Gelais anticipated him, and with -extraordinary promptness and success continued:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Sans que tu sois un Bucéphal,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tu portes plus grand qu'Alexandre."<a name="FNanchor_12_1" id="FNanchor_12_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_1" class="fnanchor">[12]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -He was applauded on all sides, and the king, already in the saddle, -waved his hand gracefully in acknowledgment of the poet's swift and -happy inspiration. -</p> - -<p> -Marot returned to the apartments of the Queen of Navarre, more out of -sorts than ever. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know what the matter was with them at court to-day," he -grumbled, "but they were all extremely stupid." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_8_1" id="Footnote_8_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_1"><span class="label">[8]</span></a>It was at Villers-Cotterets, a small town in the department of -Aisne, where François I. had a château, that the famous ordinance -was signed, providing that the acts of sovereign courts should no -longer be written in Latin, but should be drawn up in the vernacular. -This château is still in existence, although sadly shorn of its -pristine magnificence, and diverted from the uses for which it was -originally intended. Begun by François I., who carved the salamanders -upon it, it was finished by Henri II., who added his cipher -and that of Catherine de Medicis. The visitor may still see those -two letters, masterpieces of the Renaissance, connected,—and note -this well, for the spirit of the time is epitomized in this lapidary -fact,—connected by a lover's knot, which includes also the crescent -of Diane de Poitiers. A charming, but, we must agree, a strange -trilogy, which consists of the cipher and arms of the husband, the -wife, and the mistress.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_9_1" id="Footnote_9_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_1"><span class="label">[9]</span></a><i>Ce maraud de Marot.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_10_1" id="Footnote_10_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_1"><span class="label">[10]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I often wish that I were Phœbus,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Not for his heaven-born knowledge of herbs,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">For the pain which I seek to deaden</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Can be cured by no herb that grows.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Nor is it to have my abode in the firmament,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Nor for his bow to contend against Love,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">For I do not choose to betray my king.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">I long to be Phœbus simply for this,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">To be beloved by Diane the fair.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_11_1" id="Footnote_11_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_1"><span class="label">[11]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dainty, pretty little creature,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Kind to mount, to dismount gentle.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p class="nind"><a name="Footnote_12_1" id="Footnote_12_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_1"><span class="label">[12]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though thou'rt not a Bucephalus,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Thou bearest a greater than Alexander.</span> -</div></div></div> - - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap02_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>II -<br /><br /> -FOUR VARIETIES OF BRIGANDS</h4> - -<p> -Benvenuto crossed the Seine in all haste, and procured, not a bag as he -had told Comte d'Orbec that he should, but a small wicker basket given -him by one of his cousins, a nun at Florence. As he was determined to -make an end of the affair that day, and it was already two o'clock, he -did not wait for Ascanio, whom he had completely lost sight of, nor his -workmen, who had gone to dinner; but started at once for Rue -Froid-Manteau, where Comte d'Orbec had his official residence; and -although he kept his eyes open he saw nothing on the way to cause him -the least uneasiness. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached the treasurer's abode that dignitary informed him that -he could not deliver his gold to him at once, as there were certain -indispensable formalities to be gone through with, a notary to be -summoned, and a contract to be drawn up. The count apologized with a -thousand expressions of regret, knowing Cellini's impatient nature, and -was so courteous withal that it was impossible to be angry; and -Benvenuto resigned himself to wait, believing in the reality of these -obstacles to a speedy delivery of the gold. -</p> - -<p> -Cellini desired to take advantage of the delay to send for some of his -workmen, that they might accompany him home, and help him to carry the -gold. D'Orbec quickly volunteered to send one of his servants to the -Hôtel de Nesle with the message; then he led the conversation around to -Cellini's work, and the king's evident partiality for him,—to -anything in short likely to incline Benvenuto to be patient,—which -was the less difficult of accomplishment as he had no reason for wishing -ill to the count, and no suspicion that the count had any reason for -being hostile to him. There was his desire to supplant him with Colombe, -but no one knew of that desire save Ascanio and himself. He therefore -met the treasurer's friendly overtures graciously enough. -</p> - -<p> -Further time was necessary to select gold of the degree of fineness -which the king desired him to have. The notary was very slow in coming. -A contract is not drawn up in a moment. In short, when, after the final -exchange of courtesies, Benvenuto made ready to return to his studio, -night was beginning to fall. He questioned the servant who was sent for -his companions, and was told that they were unable to come, but that he -would gladly carry the gold for him. Benvenuto's suspicions were -aroused, and he declined the offer, courteous as it was. -</p> - -<p> -He placed the gold in his little basket, then passed his arm through the -two handles, and as there was barely room for his arm, the cover was -securely pressed down, and he carried it much more easily than if it had -been in a bag. He had a stout coat of mail with sleeves beneath his -coat, a short sword at his side, and a dagger in his belt. He set out on -his homeward journey at a quick pace, but cautiously nevertheless. Just -before he started he noticed several servants speaking together in low -tones, and that they left the house in a great hurry, but they made a -show of going in a different direction from that taken by him. -</p> - -<p> -To-day, when one can go from the Louvre to the Institute by the Pont des -Arts, Benvenuto's homeward journey would be but a stride, but at that -time it was a long walk. He was obliged, starting from Rue -Froid-Manteau, to follow the quay as far as the Châtelet, cross the -Pont des Meuniers, go across the city by Rue Saint-Barthélemy, cross to -the left bank by the Pont Saint-Michel, and from there go down the river -to the Grand-Nesle by the deserted quay. The reader need not wonder -that, in those days of thieves and cut-throats, Benvenuto, -notwithstanding his courage, felt some anxiety touching so considerable -a sum as that he carried upon his arm; and if he will go forward with us -two or three hundred yards in advance of Benvenuto he will see that his -anxiety was not unjustifiable. -</p> - -<p> -When it began to grow dark, about an hour before, four men of forbidding -appearance, wrapped in great cloaks, stationed themselves upon the Quai -des Augustins, at a point abreast of the church. The river bank was -bordered with walls only at that spot, and was absolutely deserted at -that moment. While they stood there they saw no one pass but the -provost, on his way back to the Châtelet after escorting Colombe to the -Petit-Nesle, and him they saluted with the respect due the constituted -authorities. -</p> - -<p> -They were talking in low tones in a recess formed by the church, and -their hats were pulled well down over their eyes. Two of them are -already known to us: the bravos employed by Vicomte de Marmagne in his -ill-fated expedition against the Grand-Nesle. Their names were Ferrante -and Fracasso. Their companions, who earned their livelihood at the same -honorable calling, were named Procope and Maledent. In order that -posterity may not quarrel over the nationality of these four valiant -captains, as it has done for three thousand years over that of old -Homer, we will add that Maledent was a Picard, Procope a Bohemian, and -that Ferrante and Fracasso first saw the light beneath the soft skies of -Italy. As to their distinctive callings in time of peace, Procope was a -jurist, Ferrante a pedant, Fracasso a dreamer of dreams, and Maledent a -fool. It will be seen that the fact that we are ourselves a Frenchman -does not blind us to the character of the only one of these four toilers -who happened to be our compatriot. -</p> - -<p> -In battle all four were demons. -</p> - -<p> -Let us listen for a moment to their friendly and edifying conversation. -We may be able to judge therefrom what manner of men they were, and what -danger was impending over our good friend, Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"At all events, Fracasso," said Ferrante, "we shan't be hampered to-day -with that great red-faced viscount, and our poor swords can leave their -scabbards without his crying, 'Retreat!'—the coward,—and -forcing us to turn tail." -</p> - -<p> -"Very true," rejoined Fracasso, "but as he leaves us all the risk of the -combat, for which I thank him, he ought to leave us all the profit too. -By what right does the red-haired devil reserve five hundred crowns for -his own part? I admit that the five hundred that remain make a very -pretty prize. A hundred and twenty-five for each of us does us -honor,—indeed, when times are hard, I sometimes find it necessary to -kill a man for two crowns." -</p> - -<p> -"For two crowns! Holy Virgin!" cried Maledent; "shame! that brings -discredit on the profession. Don't say such things when I am with you, -for any one who overheard you might confound us with each other, my dear -fellow." -</p> - -<p> -"What would you have, Maledent?" said Fracasso, in a melancholy tone; -"life has its crosses, and there are times when one would kill a man for -a bit of bread. It seems to me, my good friends, that two hundred and -fifty crowns are worth just twice as much as a hundred and twenty-five. -Suppose that after we have killed our man we refuse to settle with that -great thief of a Marmagne?" -</p> - -<p> -"You forget, brother," rejoined Procope seriously, "that would be -to disregard our agreement, to defraud our patron, and we must be loyal -in everything. Let us hand the viscount the five hundred crowns to the last -sou, as agreed, that is my advice. But <i>distinguamus</i>, let us make -a distinction; when he has pocketed them, and when he realizes that we -are honorable men, I fail to see why we shouldn't fall upon him and take -them from him." -</p> - -<p> -"Well thought of!" exclaimed Ferrante in a judicial tone. "Procope was -always distinguished for uprightness of character conjoined with a vivid -imagination." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! that is because I have studied law a little," said Procope -modestly. -</p> - -<p> -"But," continued Ferrante, with the air of pedantry which was habitual -to him, "let us not involve ourselves in too many plans at once. <i>Secte -ad terminum eamus</i>. Let the viscount sleep in peace; his turn will come. -This Florentine goldsmith is the one we have to deal with at the moment; -for greater security, it was desired that four of us should set upon -him. Strictly speaking one only should have done the deed and pocketed -the price, but the concentration of capital is a social plague, and 't -is much better that the money be divided among several friends. Let us -despatch him swiftly and cleanly. He is no ordinary man, as Fracasso and -I have learned. Let us resign ourselves, therefore, for greater -security, to attack him all four at once. It cannot be long now before -he comes. Attention! be cool, quick of foot and eye, and beware of the -Italian thrusts he'll be sure to try on you." -</p> - -<p> -"I know what it is, Ferrante," said Maledent disdainfully, "to receive a -sword-cut, whether with the edge or the point. Once on a time I made my -way at night into a certain château in the Bourbonnais on business of a -personal nature. Being surprised by the dawn before I had fully -completed it, I had no choice but to conceal myself until the following -night. No place seemed to me so appropriate for that purpose as the -arsenal of the château: there were quantities of stands of arms and -trophies there, and helmets, cuirasses, armlets and cuisses, shields and -targets. I removed the upright upon which one of the suits of armor -hung, put myself in its place, and stood there, motionless upon my -pedestal, with lowered visor." -</p> - -<p> -"This is very interesting," interposed Ferrante; "go on, Maledent; how -can we better employ this period of waiting to perform one exploit, than -in listening to tales of other feats of arms. Go on." -</p> - -<p> -"I did not know," continued Maledent, "that accursed suit of armor was -used by the young men of the family to practise fencing upon. But soon -two strapping fellows of twenty came in, took down a lance and a sword -each, and began to cut and thrust at my casing with all their heart. -Well, my friends, you may believe me or not, but under all their blows -with lance and sword, I never flinched: I stood there as straight and -immovable as if I had really been of wood, and riveted to my base. -Fortunately the young rascals were not of the first force. The father -arrived in due time and urged them to aim at the joints in my armor; but -Saint Maledent, my patron, whom I invoked in a whisper, turned their -blows aside. At last that devil of a father, in order to show the -youngsters how to carry away a visor, took a lance himself, and at the -first blow uncovered my pale and terrified face. I thought I was lost." -</p> - -<p> -"Poor fellow!" said Fracasso sadly, "how could it be otherwise." -</p> - -<p> -"Fancy, if you please, that when they saw my colorless face they took me -for the ghost of their great-grandfather; and father and sons scuttled -away as if the devil was at their heels. Need I say more? I turned my -back, and did as much for my own part; and you see I came out of it with -a whole skin." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, but the important thing in our trade, friend Maledent," said -Procope, "is not only to receive blows manfully, but to deal them -handsomely. It's a fine thing when the victim falls without a sound. In -one of my expeditions in Flanders I had to rid one of my customers of -four of his intimate friends, who were travelling in company. He -proposed at first that I should take three comrades, but I told him that -I would undertake it alone, or not at all. It was agreed that I should -do as I chose, and that I should have the stipend four times over -provided that I delivered four dead bodies. I knew the road they were to -take, and I awaited their coming at an inn which they must of necessity -pass. -</p> - -<p> -"The inn-keeper had formerly belonged to the fraternity, and had left it -for his present occupation, which allowed him to plunder travellers -without risk; but he retained some kindly sentiments for his former -brethren, so that I had no great difficulty in winning him over to my -interest in consideration of a tenth of the reward. With that -understanding we awaited our four horsemen, who soon appeared around a -bend in the road, and alighted in front of the inn, preparatory to -filling their stomachs and resting their horses. The landlord said to -them that his stable was so small that, unless they went in one at a -time, they could hardly move there, and would be in each other's way. -The first who entered was so slow about coming out, that the second lost -patience and went to see what he was doing. He also was in no hurry to -reappear, whereupon the third, weary of waiting, followed the other two. -After some little time, as the fourth was expressing his astonishment at -their delay, mine host remarked: 'Ah! I see what it is: the stable is so -extremely small, that they have gone out through the door at the rear.' -</p> - -<p> -"This explanation encouraged my last man to join his companions and -myself, for you will have guessed that I was in the stable. I allowed -him, however, the satisfaction of uttering one little cry, to say -farewell to the world, as there was no longer any danger. -</p> - -<p> -"In Roman law, Ferrante, would not that he called <i>trucidatio per -divisionem necis</i>? But, deuce take it!" added Procope, changing his -tone, "our man doesn't come. God grant that nothing has happened to him! -It will he pitch dark very soon." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Suadentque cadentia sidera somnos</i>," added Fracasso. "And by the -way, my friends, take care that Benvenuto doesn't in the dark resort to a -trick which I once put in practice myself: it was during my sojourn on -the banks of the Rhine. I always loved the banks of the Rhine, the -country there is so picturesque and at the same time so melancholy. The -Rhine is the river of dreamers. I was dreaming then upon the banks of -the Rhine, and this was the subject of my dreams. -</p> - -<p> -"A nobleman named Schreckenstein, if my memory serves me, was to be put -to death. It was no easy matter, for he never went out without a strong -escort. This is the plan upon which I finally resolved. -</p> - -<p> -"I donned a costume like that worn by him, and one dark evening I lay in -wait for him and his escort. When I saw them coming through the solitude -and darkness, <i>obscuri sub nocte</i>, I made a desperate attack upon -Schreckenstein, who was walking a little ahead; but I was clever enough -to strike off his hat with its waving plumes, and then to change my -position so that I was standing where he should have been. Thereupon I -stunned him with a violent blow with my sword hilt, and began to shout -amid the clashing of swords and the shouts of the others, 'Help! help! -death to the brigands!' so that Schreckenstein's men fell furiously upon -their master and left him dead upon the spot, while I glided away into -the bushes. The worthy nobleman could at least say that he was killed by -his friends." -</p> - -<p> -"It was a bold stroke," said Ferrante, "but if I were to cast a backward -glance upon my vanished past I could find a still more audacious exploit -there. Like you, Fracasso, I had to deal with a chief of partisans, -always well mounted and escorted. It was in a forest in the Abruzzi. I -stationed myself in an enormous oak tree upon a great branch which -stretched out over the road at a point which the personage in question -must pass; and there I waited, musing. The sun was rising and its first -rays fell in long shafts of pale light down through the moss-grown -branches; the morning air was fresh and keen, enlivened by the songs of -birds. Suddenly—" -</p> - -<p> -"Sh!" Procope interrupted him. "I hear footsteps: attention! it's our -man." -</p> - -<p> -"Good!" muttered Maledent, glancing furtively about; "all is silent and -deserted hereabout; fortune is on our side." -</p> - -<p> -They stood without speaking or moving; their dark, threatening faces -could not be distinguished in the gathering gloom, but one might have -seen their gleaming eyes, their hands playing nervously with their -rapiers, and their attitude of breathless suspense; in the half-darkness -they formed a striking dramatic group, which no pencil but Salvator -Rosa's could adequately reproduce. -</p> - -<p> -It was in fact Benvenuto coming on at a rapid pace; as we have said, his -suspicions were aroused, and with his piercing glance he maintained a -constant watch in the darkness. As his eyes were accustomed to the -uncertain light he saw the four bandits issue from their ambush when he -was still twenty yards away, and had time to throw his cloak over his -basket, and draw his sword, before they were upon him. Furthermore, with -the self-possession which never abandoned him, he backed against the -church wall, and thus faced all of his assailants. -</p> - -<p> -They attacked him savagely. He could not retreat, and it was useless to -cry out as the château was five hundred yards away. But Benvenuto was -no novice in deeds of arms, and he received the cut-throats with vigor. -</p> - -<p> -His mind remained perfectly clear, and a sudden thought flashed through -it as he plied his sword. It was evident that this ambuscade was -directed against him, and no other. If therefore he could succeed in -throwing them off the track, he was saved. He began therefore, as the -blows rained down upon him, to joke them upon their pretended mistake. -</p> - -<p> -"What fit has seized you, my fine fellows? Are you mad? What do you -expect to make out of an old soldier like me? Is it my cloak that you -want? Does my sword tempt you? Stay, stay, you! If you want my good -sword, you must earn it! Sang-Dieu! By my soul, for thieves who seem to -have served their apprenticeship, your scent is bad, my children." -</p> - -<p> -With that he charged upon them, instead of falling back before them, but -only took one or two steps away from the wall, and immediately placed -his back against it once more, incessantly slashing and thrusting, -taking pains to throw aside his cloak several times, so that, if they -had been warned by Comte d'Orbec's servants, whom he had seen leave the -house, and who had seen him count the money, they would at least -conclude that he had not the gold upon him. Indeed, his assured manner -of speaking, and the ease with which he handled his sword with a -thousand crowns under his arm, caused the bravos to entertain some -doubts. -</p> - -<p> -"Damnation! do you suppose we have made a mistake, Ferrante?" said -Fracasso! -</p> - -<p> -"I fear so. The man seemed not so tall to me; or even if it is he, he -hasn't the gold, and that damned viscount deceived us." -</p> - -<p> -"I have gold!" cried Benvenuto, thrusting and parrying vigorously all -the while. "I have no gold save a handful of gilded copper; but if you -are ambitious to secure that, my children, you will pay dearer for it -than if it were gold belonging to another, I promise you." -</p> - -<p> -"Deuce take him!" said Procope, "he's really a soldier. Could any -goldsmith fence so cleverly as he? Expend all your wind on him, if you -choose, you fellows; I don't light for glory." -</p> - -<p> -And Procope began to heat a retreat, grumbling to himself, while the -attack of the others relaxed in vigor, by reason of their doubts, as -well as of his absence. Benvenuto, with no such motive for weakening, -seized the opportunity to drive them back, and to start for the -château, backing before his assailants, but fighting all the time, and -defending himself manfully. The savage boar was luring the hounds with -him to his den. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, my brave fellows, come with me," he said "bear me company as far -as the entrance to the Pré-aux-Clercs, the Maison Rouge, where my -sweetheart, whose father sells wine, is expecting me to-night. The road -isn't very safe, so they say, and I should be glad to have an escort." -</p> - -<p> -Upon that pleasantry, Fracasso also abandoned the chase, and went to -join Procope. -</p> - -<p> -"We are fools, Ferrante!" said Maledent; "this isn't your Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, I say it is himself," cried Ferrante, who had at last -discovered the basket bulging out with money under Benvenuto's arm, as a -too sudden movement disarranged his cloak. -</p> - -<p> -But it was too late: the château was within a hundred feet or less, and -Benvenuto was shouting in his powerful voice: "Hôtel de Nesle! ho! -help! help!" -</p> - -<p> -Fracasso had barely time to retrace his steps, Procope to hasten up, and -Ferrante and Maledent to redouble their efforts; the workmen who were -expecting their master, were on the alert. The door of the château was -flung open at his first shout, and Hermann the colossus, little Jehan, -Simon-le-Gaucher, and Jacques Aubry came running out armed with pikes. -</p> - -<p> -At that sight the bravos turned and fled. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait, wait, my dear young friends," Benvenuto shouted to the fugitives; -"won't you escort me a little farther? O the bunglers! who couldn't take -from one lone man a thousand golden crowns which tired his arm!" -</p> - -<p> -The brigands had in fact succeeded in inflicting no other injury than a -slight scratch upon their opponent's hand, and they made their escape -shamefaced, and Fracasso howling with pain. Poor Fracasso at the very -last lost his right eye, and was one-eyed for the rest of his days, a -circumstance which accentuated the tinge of melancholy which was the -most prominent characteristic of his pensive countenance. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my children," said Benvenuto to his companions, when the -footsteps of the bravos had died away in the distance, "we must have -some supper after that exploit. Come all and drink to my escape, my dear -rescuers. But God help inc! I do not see Ascanio among you. Where is -Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -The reader will remember that Ascanio left the Louvre before his master. -</p> - -<p> -"I know where he is?" said little Jehan. -</p> - -<p> -"Where is he, my boy?" asked Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Down at the end of the garden, where he has been walking for half an -hour; the student and I went there to talk with him, but he begged us to -leave him alone." -</p> - -<p> -"Strange!" said Benvenuto. "How did he fail to hear my shout? How is it -that he did not hasten to me with the others? Do not wait for me, but -sup without me, my children. Ah, there you are, Scozzone!" -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! what is this they tell me,—that some one tried to -murder you, master?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, there was something like that." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" cried Scozzone. -</p> - -<p> -"It was nothing, my dear girl, nothing," said Benvenuto consolingly, for -poor Catherine had become as pale as death. "Go now and bring wine, of -the best, for these gallant fellows. Take the keys of the cellar from -Dame Ruperta, Scozzone, and select it yourself." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, you are not going out again?" said Scozzone. -</p> - -<p> -"No, never fear: I am going to find Ascanio in the garden. I have -important matters to discuss with him." -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone and the others returned to the studio, and Benvenuto walked -toward the gate leading to the garden. -</p> - -<p> -The moon was just rising, and the master saw Ascanio very plainly; but, -instead of walking, the young man was climbing a ladder set against the -wall between the gardens of the Grand and Petit-Nesle. When he reached -the top, he pulled the ladder up after him, lowered it on the other -side, and disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto passed his hand over his eyes like a man who cannot believe -what he sees. Forming a sudden resolution, he went straight to the -foundry and up into his cell, stepped to the window sill, and leaped to -the wall of the Petit-Nesle; from there, with the aid of a stout vine, -he dropped noiselessly into Colombe's garden; it had rained in the -morning, and the ground was so damp that his footfalls were deadened. -</p> - -<p> -He put his ear to the ground, and questioned the silence for some -moments. At last he heard subdued voices in the distance, which guided -his steps; he at once rose, and crept cautiously forward, feeling his -way, and stopping from moment to moment. Soon the voices became more -distinct. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto walked toward them, and at last, when he reached the second -path which crossed the garden, he recognized Colombe, or rather divined -her presence in the shadow, dressed in white, and sitting beside Ascanio -on the bench we already know. They were talking in low tones, but -distinctly, and with animation. -</p> - -<p> -Hidden from their observation by a clump of trees, Benvenuto drew near -and listened. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap03_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>III -<br /><br /> -AN AUTUMN NIGHT'S DREAM</h4> - -<p> -It was a beautiful autumn evening, calm and clear. The moon had driven -away almost all the clouds, and the few which remained were scattered -here and there over the star-strewn sky. Around the group talking and -listening in the garden of the Petit-Nesle, everything was calm and -silent, but within their hearts all was sadness and agitation. -</p> - -<p> -"My darling Colombe," said Ascanio, while Benvenuto, standing cold and -pale behind him, seemed to be listening with his heart rather than with -his ears, "my dearest love, why, alas! did our paths meet? When you know -all that I have to tell you of misery and horror, you will curse me for -being the bearer of such news." -</p> - -<p> -"Nay, my dear," replied Colombe, "whatever you may have to tell me, I -shall bless you, for in my eyes you are as one sent by God. I never -heard my mother's voice, but I feel that I should have listened to her -as I listen to you. Go on, Ascanio, and if you have terrible things to -tell me, your voice will at least comfort me a little." -</p> - -<p> -"Summon all your courage and all your strength," said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he told her all that had taken place in his presence between -Madame d'Etampes and Comte d'Orbec; he described the whole plot, a -combination of treason against the kingdom and designs upon the honor of -an innocent child; he subjected himself to the agony of explaining the -infamous bargain made by the treasurer to that ingenuous soul, aghast at -this revelation of wickedness; he must needs to make the maiden, whose -heart was so pure that she did not blush at his words, understand the -cruel refinements of torture and ignominy which hatred and baffled love -suggested to the favorite. All that was perfectly clear to Colombe's -mind was that her lover was filled with loathing and dismay, and, like -the slender vine which has no other support than the sapling to which it -clings, she trembled and shuddered with him. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear," she said, "you must make known this fearful plot against my -honor to my father. My father does not suspect our love, he owes you his -life, and he will listen to you. Oh, never fear! he will rescue me from -the clutches of Comte d'Orbec." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas!" was Ascanio's only reply. -</p> - -<p> -"O my love!" cried Colombe, who understood all the apprehension -contained in her lover's exclamation. "Oh! can you suspect my father of -complicity in so hateful a design? That would be too wicked, Ascanio. -No, my father knows nothing, suspects nothing, I am sure, and although -he has never shown me any great affection, he would never with his own -hand plunge me into shame and misery." -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me, Colombe," rejoined Ascanio, "but your father is not -accustomed to see misery in increased wealth. A title would conceal the -shame, and in his courtier-like pride he would deem you happier as a -king's mistress than as an artist's wife. It is my duty to hide nothing -from you, Colombe: Comte d'Orbec told Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes that -he would answer for your father." -</p> - -<p> -"Just God, is it possible!" cried the poor girl. "Was such a thing ever -seen, Ascanio, as a father who sold his daughter?" -</p> - -<p> -"Such things are seen in all countries and at all times, my poor angel, -and more than ever at this time and in this country. Do not picture to -yourself the world as fashioned after the image of your heart, or -society as taking pattern by your virtue. Yes, Colombe, the noblest -names of France have shamelessly farmed out the youth and beauty of -their wives and daughters to the royal lust: it is looked upon as a -matter of course at court, and your father, if he cares to take the -trouble to justify himself, will not lack illustrious precedents. I beg -you to forgive me, my beloved, for bringing your chaste and spotless -soul so abruptly in contact with this hideous reality; but I cannot -avoid the necessity of showing you the snare that is laid for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, Ascanio!" cried Colombe, hiding her face against the young -man's shoulder; "my father also turns against me. Oh, simply to repeat -it kills me with shame! Where can I fly for shelter? Where but to your -arms, Ascanio? Yes, it is for you to save me now. Have you spoken to -your master, to Benvenuto, who is so strong and great and kindly, -judging by your description of him, and whom I love because you love -him?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nay, do not love him, do not love him, Colombe!" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Why not?" whispered the girl. -</p> - -<p> -"Because he loves you, because, instead of the friend upon whom we -thought we could rely, he is one enemy the more we have to contend -against: an enemy, you understand, and the most formidable of all our -enemies. Listen." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he told her how, as he was on the point of making a confidant -of Benvenuto, the goldsmith described to him his ideal love, and added -that the favorite sculptor of François I. by virtue of the king's word -of honor to which he had never proved false, could obtain whatever he -chose to ask after the statue of Jupiter was cast. As we know, the boon -that Benvenuto proposed to ask was Colombe's hand. -</p> - -<p> -"O God! we have none to look to for succor but thee," said Colombe, -raising her white hands and her lovely eyes to heaven. "All our friends -are changed to enemies, every haven of refuge becomes a dangerous reef. -Are you certain that we are so utterly abandoned?" -</p> - -<p> -"Only too certain," replied Ascanio. "My master is as dangerous to us as -your father, Colombe. Yes," he continued, wringing his hands, "I am -almost driven to hate him, Benvenuto, my friend, my master, my -protector, my father, my God! And yet I ask you, Colombe, why I should -hear him ill will? Because he has fallen under the spell to which every -exalted mind that comes in contact with yours must yield; because he -loves you as I love you. His crime is my own, after all. But you love -me, Colombe, and so I am absolved. What shall we do? For two days I have -been asking myself the question, and I do not know whether I begin to -detest him, or whether I love him still. He loves you, it is true; but -he has loved me so dearly, too, that my poor heart wavers and trembles -in its perplexity like a reed shaken in the wind. What will he do? First -of all, I shall tell him of Comte d'Orbec's designs, and I hope that he -will deliver us from them. But after that, when we find ourselves face -to face as enemies, when I tell him that his pupil is his rival, -Colombe, his will, which is omnipotent as fate, will perhaps be as -blind; he will forget Ascanio to think only of Colombe; he will turn his -eyes away from the man he once loved, to see only the woman he loves, -for I feel myself that between him and you I should not hesitate. I feel -that I would remorselessly sacrifice my heart's past for its future, -earth for heaven! And why should he act differently? he is a man, and to -renounce his love would be more than human. We must therefore, fight it -out, but how can I, feeble and alone as I am, resist him. But no matter, -Colombe: even if I should come some day to hate him I have loved so long -and so well, I tell you now that I would not for all the world subject -him to the torture he inflicted upon me the other morning when he -declared his love for you." -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile Benvenuto, standing like a statue behind his tree, felt the -drops of icy sweat roll down his forehead, and his hand clutched -convulsively at his heart. -</p> - -<p> -"Poor Ascanio! dear heart!" returned Colombe, "you have suffered -bitterly already, and have much to suffer still. But let us face the -future calmly. Let us not exaggerate our griefs, for the prospect is not -altogether desperate. Including God there are three of us to make head -against misfortune. You would rather see me Benvenuto's wife than Comte -d'Orbec's, would you not? But you would also prefer to see me wedded to -the Lord than to Benvenuto? Very well! if I am not yours, I will belong -to none but the Lord, be sure of that, Ascanio. Your wife in this world, -or your betrothed in the other. That is my promise to you, Ascanio, and -that promise I will keep: never fear." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, thou angel from heaven, thanks!" said Ascanio. "Let us forget -the great world around us, and concentrate our lives upon this little -thicket where we now are. Colombe, you haven't told me yet that you love -me. Alas! it would almost seem that you are mine because you could not -do otherwise." -</p> - -<p> -"Hush! Ascanio, hush! do you not see that I am trying to sanctify my -happiness by making it a duty? I love you, Ascanio, I love you!" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto could no longer find strength to stand; he fell upon his knees -with his head against a tree; his haggard eyes were fixed vacantly on -space, while, with his ear turned toward the young people, he listened -with feverish intentness. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear Colombe," echoed Ascanio, "I love you, and something tells me that -we shall be happy, and that the Lord will not abandon the loveliest of -all his angels. Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! in this atmosphere of joy which -surrounds me, I forget the circle of grief which I must enter when I -leave you." -</p> - -<p> -"We must think of to-morrow," said Colombe: "let us help ourselves, -Ascanio, so that God may help us. It would be disloyal, I think, to -leave your master Benvenuto in ignorance of our love, for he would -perhaps incur great risk in contending against Madame d'Etampes and -Comte d'Orbec. It would not be fair: you must tell him everything, -Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"I will obey you, dearest Colombe, for a word from you, as you must -know, is law to me. My heart also tells me that you are right, always -right. But it will be a terrible blow for him. Alas! I judge from my own -heart. It is possible that his love for me may turn to hatred, it is -possible that he will turn me out of doors. In that case how can I, a -stranger, without friends or shelter, resist such powerful enemies as -the Duchesse d'Etampes and the king's treasurer. Who will help me to -defeat the plans of that terrible couple? Who will fight on my side in -this unequal struggle? Who will hold out a helping hand to me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I!" said a deep, grave voice behind them. -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto!" cried the apprentice, without even turning round. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe shrieked and sprang to her feet. Ascanio gazed at his master, -wavering between affection and wrath. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it is I, Benvenuto Cellini," continued the goldsmith,—"I, whom -you do not love, mademoiselle,—I, whom you no longer love, Ascanio, -and who come to save you both, nevertheless." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you say?" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"I say that you must come and sit down again, here by my side, for we -must understand one another. You have no need to tell me aught. I have -not lost a word of your conversation. Forgive me for listening after I -came upon you by chance, but you understand: it is much better that I -should know all. You have said some things very sad and terrible for me -to hear; but some kind things too. Ascanio was sometimes right and -sometimes wrong. It is very true, Mademoiselle, that I would have -disputed you with him. But since you love him, that's the end of it, be -happy; he has forbidden you to love me, but I will force you to it by -giving you to him." -</p> - -<p> -"Dear master!" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"You suffer, monsieur, do you not?" said Colombe clasping her hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, thanks, thanks!" said Benvenuto, as his eyes filled with tears, but -restraining his feelings with a mighty effort. "You see that I suffer. -He would not have noticed it, ungrateful boy! But nothing escapes a -woman's eyes. Yes, I will not tell you a falsehood; I do suffer! and why -not, since you are lost to me? But at the same time I am happy, because -I am able to serve you; you will owe everything to me, and that thought -comforts me a little. You were wrong, Ascanio; my Beatrice is jealous, -and will brook no rival; you, Ascanio, must finish the statue of Hebe. -Adieu, my sweetest dream,—the last!" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto spoke with effort, in a broken voice. Colombe leaned -gracefully toward him, and put her hand in his. -</p> - -<p> -"Weep, my friend, weep," she said softly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes," said Cellini, bursting into tears. -</p> - -<p> -He stood for some time without speaking, weeping bitterly, and trembling -with emotion from head to foot. His forceful nature gladly sought relief -in tears too long held back. Ascanio and Colombe looked on in respectful -silence at this exhibition of bitter grief. -</p> - -<p> -"Except on the day when I wounded you, Ascanio, except at the moment -when I saw your blood flow, I have not wept for twenty years," he said -at last, recovering his self-control; "but it has been a hard blow to -me. I was in such agony just now behind those trees that I was tempted -for a moment to plunge my dagger in my heart, and end it all. The only -thing that held my hand was your need of me, and so you saved my life. -All is as it should be, after all. Ascanio has twenty years more of -happiness to give you than I have, Colombe. And then he is my child: you -will be very happy together, and it will rejoice my father's heart. -Benvenuto will succeed in triumphing over Benvenuto himself, as well as -over his enemies. It is the lot of us creators to suffer, and perhaps -each one of my tears will cause some lovely statue to spring up, as each -of Dante's tears became a sublime strain. You see, Colombe, I am already -returning to my old love, my cherished sculpture: that love will never -forsake me. You did well to bid me weep: all the bitterness has been -washed from my heart by my tears. I am sad still, but I am kind once -more, and I will forget my pain in my efforts to save you." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio took one of the master's hands, and pressed it warmly in his -own. Colombe took the other, and put it to her lips. Benvenuto breathed -more heavily than he had yet done. Shaking his head, he said with a -smile:— -</p> - -<p> -"Do not make it harder for me, but spare me, my children. It will be -better never to speak of this again. Henceforth, Colombe, I will be your -friend, nothing more; I will be your father. The rest is all a dream. -How let us talk of the danger which threatens you, and of what we are to -do. I overheard you a moment since discussing your plans. Mon Dieu! you -are very young, and neither of you has an idea of what life really is. -You offer yourselves, in the innocence of your heart, to the cruel blows -of destiny, unarmed, and you hope to vanquish malignity, avarice, all -the vile passions of which man is capable with your kind hearts and your -smiles! Dear fools! I will be strong and cunning and implacable in your -stead. I am wonted to it, but you,—God created you for happiness and -tranquillity, my lovely cherubs, and I will see to it that you fulfil -your destiny. -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, anger shall not furrow thy calm brow: grief, Colombe, shall -not disturb the pure outlines of thy face. I will take you in my arms, -soft-eyed, charming pair; I will bear you so through all the mire and -misery of life, and will not set you down until you have arrived safe -and sound at perfect joy; and then I'll gaze at you, and be happy in -your happiness. But you must have blind confidence in me; I have my own -peculiar ways, abrupt and hard to understand, and which may perhaps -alarm you a little, Colombe. I conduct myself somewhat after the manner -of artillery, and I go straight to my goal, heedless of what I may meet -on the road. Yes, I think more of the purity of my intentions, I -confess, than of the morality of the means I use. When I set about -modelling a beautiful figure I care but little whether the clay soils my -fingers. The figure finished, I wash my hands, and that's the end of it. -Do you then, mademoiselle, with your refined and timorous heart, leave -me to answer to God for my acts. He and I understand each other. I have -a powerful combination to deal with. The count is ambitious, the provost -avaricious, and the duchess very subtle. They are each and all very -powerful. You are in their power, and in their hands, and two of them -have rights over you: it may perhaps be necessary to resort to craft and -violence. I shall arrange it, however, so that you and Ascanio will have -no part in a contest in every way beneath you. Come, Colombe, are you -ready to close your eyes, and allow yourself to be led? When I say, 'Do -this,' will you do it?—'Remain there,' will you remain?—'Go,' -will you go?" -</p> - -<p> -"What does Ascanio say? asked Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe," returned the apprentice, "Benvenuto is great and good: he -loves us and forgives the injury we have done him. Let us obey him, I -implore you." -</p> - -<p> -"Command me, master," said Colombe, "and I will obey you as if you were -sent by God himself. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, my child. I have but one thing more to ask you; it will cost -you dear, perhaps, but you must make up your mind to it; thereafter your -part will be confined to waiting, and allowing circumstances and myself -to do our work. In order that both of you may have more perfect faith in -me, and that you may confide unhesitatingly in one whose life may not be -unspotted, but whose heart has remained pure, I am about to tell you the -story of my youth. All stories resemble one another, alas! and sorrow -lies at the heart of every one. Ascanio, I propose to tell you how my -Beatrice, the angel of whom I have spoken to you, came to be associated -with my existence; you shall know who she was, and you will wonder less -no doubt at my determination to abandon Colombe to you, when you realize -that by that sacrifice I am but beginning to pay to the child the debt I -owe the mother. Your mother! a saint in paradise, Ascanio! Beatrice -would say blessed; Stefana would say crowned." -</p> - -<p> -"You have always told me, master, that you would tell me your whole -story some day." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, and the moment has come to redeem my promise. You will have even -more confidence in me, Colombe, when you know all the reasons I have for -loving our Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon Benvenuto took a hand of each of his children in his own, and -told them what follows, in his grave, melodious voice, beneath the -glimmering stars in the peaceful silence of the night. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap04_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>IV -<br /><br /> -STEFANA</h4> - -<p> -"Twenty years since, I was twenty years old, as you are now, Ascanio, -and I was at work with a Florentine goldsmith named Raphael del Moro. He -was a good workman and did not lack taste; but he cared more for rest -than for work, allowing himself to be inveigled into attending parties -with disheartening facility, and, although he had little money, himself -leading astray those who were in his studio. Very often I was left alone -in the house, singing over some piece of work I had in hand. In those -days I sang as Scozzone does. All the sluggards in the city came as a -matter of course to Master Raphael for employment, or rather in quest of -pleasure, for he had the reputation of being too weak ever to quarrel. -One grows rich slowly with such habits as his; so he was always hard up, -and soon came to be the most discredited goldsmith in Florence. -</p> - -<p> -"I am wrong. He had a confrère who had even less custom than he, -although he was of a noble family. But it was not for irregularity in -meeting his obligations that Gismondo Gaddi was cried down, but for his -notorious lack of talent and his sordid avarice. As everything intrusted -to him left his hands imperfect or spoiled, and not a customer, unless -he happened to be a stranger, ventured into his shop, Gismondo undertook -to earn his living by usury, and to loan money at enormous interest to -young men desirous of discounting their future prospects. This -profession succeeded better than the other, as Gaddi always demanded -good security, and went into nothing without reliable guaranties. With -that exception, he was, as he himself said, very considerate and -long-suffering; he loaned to everybody, compatriots and foreigners, Jews -and Christians. He would have loaned to St. Peter upon the keys of -paradise, or to Satan upon his estates in hell. -</p> - -<p> -"Need I say that he loaned to my poor Raphael del Moro, who consumed -every day his provision for the morrow, but whose sterling integrity -never wavered. Their constant connection in business, and the social -ostracism to which both were subjected, tended to bring the two -goldsmiths together. Del Moro was deeply grateful for his confrère's -untiring amiability in the matter of advancing money. Gaddi thoroughly -esteemed an honest and accommodating debtor. They were, in a word, the -best friends in the world, and Gismondo would not have missed for an -empire one of the parties with which Del Moro regaled him. -</p> - -<p> -"Del Moro was a widower, but he had a daughter of sixteen, named -Stefana. From a sculptor's point of view Stefana was not beautiful, and -yet her appearance was most striking. Beneath her forehead, which was -almost too high and not smooth enough for a woman, one could see her -brain at work, so to speak. Her great, moist eyes, of a velvety black -hue, moved you to respect and deep emotion as they rested upon you. An -ivory pallor overspread her face, which was lightened by a melancholy -yet charming expression, like the faint sunshine of an autumn morning. I -forget a crown of luxurious raven locks, and hands a queen might have -envied. -</p> - -<p> -"Stefana ordinarily stood bending slightly forward, like a lily swayed -by the wind. You might at times have taken her for a statue of -Melancholy. When she stood erect, when her lovely eyes sparkled, when -her nostrils dilated, when her arm was outstretched to emphasize a -command, you would have adored her as the Archangel Gabriel. She -resembled you, Ascanio, but you have less weakness of resolution and -capacity for suffering. The immortality of the soul was never more -clearly revealed to my eyes than in that slender, graceful body. Del -Moro, who feared his daughter almost as much as he loved her, was -accustomed to say that he had consigned to the tomb only the body of his -wife, that Stefana was her dead mother's soul. -</p> - -<p> -"I was at this time an adventurous youth, an impulsive giddy-pated -creature. I loved liberty before everything. I was bubbling over with -life, and I expended my surplus energy in foolish quarrels and foolish -love affairs. I worked nevertheless with no less passion than I put into -my pleasures, and despite my vagaries I was Raphael's best workman, and -the only one in the establishment who earned any money. But what I did -well, I did by instinct, almost by chance. I had studied the ancients to -good purpose. For whole days I had gazed upon the bas-reliefs and -statues of Athens and Rome, making studies with pencil and chisel, and -constant contact with these sublime artists of former days gave me -purity and precision of outline; but I was simply a successful imitator; -I did not create. Still, I say again, I was incontestably and easily the -cleverest and most hardworking of Del Moro's comrades. I have since -learned that the master's secret wish was that I should marry his -daughter. -</p> - -<p> -"But I was thinking little of settling down; i' faith, I was enamored of -independence, freedom from care, and an outdoor life. I was absent from -the workshop whole days at a time. I would return completely overdone -with fatigue, and yet in a few hours I would have overtaken and passed -Raphael's other workmen. I would fight for a word, fall in love at a -glance. A fine husband I should have made! -</p> - -<p> -"Moreover, my feelings when I was with Stefana in no wise resembled -those aroused by the pretty girls of Porta del Prato or Borgo Pinti. She -almost overawed me; if I had been told that I loved her otherwise than -as an elder sister I should have laughed. When I returned from one of my -escapades I dared not look Stefana in the face. She was more than stern, -she was sad. On the other hand, when fatigue or a praiseworthy zealous -impulse had detained me at home, I always sought Stefana's -companionship, her sweet face, and her sweet voice; my affection for her -had in it something serious and sacred, which I did not at the time -fully understand, but which was very pleasant to me. Very often, amid my -wildest excesses, the thought of Stefana would pass through my mind, and -my companions would ask me why I had suddenly become thoughtful. -Sometimes, when I was in the act of drawing my sword or my dagger, I -would pronounce her name as it were that of my patron saint, and I -noticed that whenever that occurred I retired from the contest unhurt. -But this tender feeling for the dear child, innocent, lovely, and -affectionate as she was, lay dormant at the bottom of my heart as in a -sanctuary. -</p> - -<p> -"For her part, it is certain, that she was as full of indulgence and -kindly feeling for me as she was cold and dignified with my slothful -comrades. She sometimes came to sit in the studio beside her father, and -I would sometimes feel her eyes fixed on my face as she bent over my -work. I was proud and happy in her preference, although I did not -explain my feeling to myself. If one of my comrades indulged in a little -vulgar flattery, and informed me that my master's daughter was in love -with me, I received his insolence so wrathfully that he never repeated -it. -</p> - -<p> -"An accident which befell Stefana proved to me how deeply she had become -rooted in my heart. -</p> - -<p> -"One day when she was in the studio looking at a piece of work, she did -not take away her little white hand quickly enough, and a bungling -workman, who was tipsy, I think, struck the little finger and the finger -beside it with his chisel. The poor child shrieked at first, then, as if -ashamed of it, smiled to reassure us, but her hand as she held it up was -covered with blood. I think I should have killed the fellow had my mind -not been concentrated upon her. -</p> - -<p> -"Gismondo Gaddi, who was present, said that he knew a surgeon in the -neighborhood, and ran to fetch him. The villanous medicaster dressed the -wound, and came every day to see Stefana; but he was so ignorant and -careless that gangrene set in. Thereupon the ass pompously declared -that, despite his efforts, Stefana's right arm would always be -paralyzed. -</p> - -<p> -"Raphael del Moro was in too straitened circumstances to be able to -consult another physician; but when I heard the imbecile announce his -decision, I refused to abide by it. I hurried to my room, emptied the -purse which contained all my savings, and ran off to Giacomo Rastelli of -Perouse, the Pope's surgeon, and the most eminent practitioner in all -Italy. At my earnest entreaty, and as the sum I offered him was by no -means contemptible, he came at once, exclaiming, 'O these lovers!' After -examining the wound, he announced that he would answer for it that -Stefana would be able to use the right arm as well as the other within a -fortnight. I longed to embrace the worthy man. He set about dressing the -poor maimed lingers, and Stefana was at once relieved. But a day or two -later it was necessary to remove the decayed bone. -</p> - -<p> -"She asked me to be present at the operation to give her courage, -whereas I was entirely lacking in it myself, and my heart felt very -small in my breast. Master Giacomo made use of some great instrument -which caused Stefana terrible pain. She could not restrain her groans, -which echoed in my heart. My temples were bathed in a cold perspiration. -</p> - -<p> -"At last the torture exceeded my strength; the cruel tool which tortured -those poor, delicate fingers tortured me no less. I rose, begging Master -Giacomo to suspend the operation, and to wait for me a quarter of an -hour. -</p> - -<p> -"I went down to the studio, and there, as if inspired by my good genius, -I made an instrument of thin, sharp steel which would cut like a razor. -I returned to the surgeon, who with that operated so gently and easily -that the dear girl felt almost no pain. In five minutes it was all over, -and a fortnight later she gave me the hand to kiss, which, as she said, -I had preserved. -</p> - -<p> -"But it would be impossible for me to describe the poignant emotion I -passed through when I saw the suffering of my poor Résignée, as I -sometimes called her. -</p> - -<p> -"Resignation was, in truth, the natural condition of her mind. Stefana -was not happy; her father's improvidence and recklessness distressed her -beyond measure; her only consolation was religion; like all unhappy -women she was pious. Very often, as I entered some church to pray, for I -have always loved God, I would spy Stefana in a corner weeping and -praying. -</p> - -<p> -"Whenever, as too frequently happened, Master Del Moro's reckless -extravagance left her penniless, she would appeal to me with a simple, -trustful confidence, which went to my heart. She would say, dear girl, -with the simplicity characteristic of noble hearts: 'Benvenuto, I beg -you to pass the night at work, to finish that reliquary, or that ewer, -for we have no money at all.' -</p> - -<p> -"I soon adopted the habit of submitting to her every piece of work that -I completed, and she would point out its imperfections and advise me -with extraordinary sagacity. Solitude and sorrow had inspired and -elevated her mind more than one would think possible. Her words, which -were at once innocent and profound, taught me more than one secret of my -art, and often opened new possibilities to my mind. -</p> - -<p> -"I remember one day when I showed her a medal which I was engraving for -a cardinal, and which had a representation of the cardinal's head on one -side, and on the other Jesus walking on the sea, and holding out his -hand to St. Peter, with this legend: '<i>Quare dubitasti?</i>' Wherefore -didst thou doubt? -</p> - -<p> -"Stefana was well pleased with the portrait, which was a very good -likeness, and very well executed. She looked at the reverse in silence -for a long while. -</p> - -<p> -"'The face of Our Lord is very beautiful,' she said at last, 'and if it -were intended for Apollo or Jupiter I should find nothing to criticise. -But Jesus is something more than beautiful; Jesus is divine. The lines -of this face are superb in their purity, but where is the soul? I admire -the man, but I look in vain for the God. Consider, Benvenuto, that you -are not an artist simply, but a Christian as well. My heart, you know, -has often bled; that is to say, alas! my heart has often doubted; and I, -too, have shaken off my depression when I saw Jesus holding out his hand -to me, and have heard the sublime words, "Wherefore hast thou doubted?" -Ah, Benvenuto, your image of him is less beautiful than he. In his -celestial countenance there was the sadness of the afflicted father, and -the clemency of the king who pardons. His forehead shone, but his mouth -smiled; he was more than great, he was good.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Wait a moment, Stefana,' said I. -</p> - -<p> -"I effaced what I had done, and in a few moments I once more began upon -the Savior's face under her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"'Is that better?' I asked, as I handed it to her. -</p> - -<p> -"'Oh yes!' she replied, with tears in her eyes; 'so our blessed Lord -appeared to me when I was heavy-hearted. Yes, I recognize him now by his -expression of compassion and majesty. Ah, Benvenuto! I advise you always -henceforth to follow this course: before taking the wax in hand, be sure -of the thought; you possess the instrument, master the expression; you -have the material part, seek the spiritual part; let your fingers never -be aught but the servants of your mind.' -</p> - -<p> -"Such was the counsel given me by that child of sixteen, in her sublime -good sense. When I was alone I reflected upon what she had said to me, -and realized that she was right. Thus did she guide and enlighten my -instinct. Having the form in my mind, I sought the idea, and to combine -the form and the idea in such wise that they would issue from my hands a -perfectly blended whole, as Minerva came forth all armed from the brain -of Jupiter. -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! how lovely is youth, and how its memories do overpower one! -Ascanio, Colombe, this lovely evening we are passing together reminds me -of all those I passed by Stefana's side sitting upon a bench outside her -father's house. She would gaze up at the sky, and I would gaze at her. -It was twenty years ago, but it seems only yesterday; I put out my hand -and fancy that I can feel hers, but it is yours, my children; what God -does is well done. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, simply to see her in her white dress was to feel tranquillity steal -over my soul! Often when we parted we had not uttered a word, and yet I -carried away from those silent interviews all sorts of fine and noble -thoughts, which made me better and greater. -</p> - -<p> -"But all this had an end, as all happiness in this world has. -</p> - -<p> -"Raphael del Moro had but little farther to go to reach the lowest -depths of destitution. He owed his kind neighbor Gismondo Gaddi two -thousand ducats, which he knew not how to pay. The thought drove this -honest man to desperation. He wished at least to save his daughter, and -intrusted his purpose to give her to me to one of the workmen, doubtless -that he might broach the subject to me. But he was one of the idiots -whom I had lost my temper with when they threw Stefana's sisterly -affection at my head as a reproach. The blockhead did not even allow -Raphael to finish. -</p> - -<p> -"'Abandon that scheme, Master Del Moro,' he said; 'the suggestion would -not be favorably received, my word for it.' -</p> - -<p> -"The goldsmith was proud: he believed that I despised him on account of -his poverty, and he never referred to the subject again. -</p> - -<p> -"Some time after, Gismondo Gaddi came to demand payment of his debt, and -when Raphael asked for more time. -</p> - -<p> -"'Hark ye,' said Gismondo, 'give me your daughter's hand, and I will -give you a receipt in full.' -</p> - -<p> -"Del Moro was transported with joy. To be sure Gaddi had the reputation -of being a little covetous, a little high-tempered, and a little -jealous, but he was rich, and what the poor esteem and envy most, alas! -is wealth. When Raphael mentioned this unexpected proposition to his -daughter, she made no reply; but that evening, as we left the bench -where we had been sitting together, to return to the house, she said to -me, 'Benvenuto, Gismondo Gaddi has asked my hand in marriage, and my -father has given his consent.' -</p> - -<p> -"With those simple words she left me. I leaped to my feet, and in a sort -of frenzy I went out of the city and wandered about over the fields. -Throughout the night, now running like a madman, and again lying at full -length upon the grass and weeping, a myriad of mad, desperate, frenzied -thoughts chased one another through my disordered brain. -</p> - -<p> -"'She, Stefana, the wife of that odious Gismondo!' I said to myself, -when I had in some degree recovered my self-control, and was seeking to -collect my wits. 'The thought overpowers me and terrifies me as well, -and as she would certainly prefer me, she makes a mute appeal to my -friendship, to my jealousy. Ah, yes! I am jealous, furiously jealous; -but have I the right to be? Gaddi is morose and violent tempered, but -let us be just to one another. What woman would be happy with me? Am I -not brutal, capricious, restless, forever involved in dangerous quarrels -and unholy intrigues? Could I conquer myself? No, never; so long as the -blood boils in my veins as at present, I shall always have my hand on my -dagger, and my foot outside the house. -</p> - -<p> -"'Poor Stefana! I should make her weep and suffer, I should see her lose -color and pine away. I should hate myself, and should soon come to hate -her as well, as a living reproach. She would die, and I should have her -death to answer for. No, I am not made—alas! I feel that I am -not—for calm, peaceful family joys; I must have liberty, space, -conflict, anything rather than the peace and monotony of happiness. I -should break in my grasp that fragile, delicate flower. I should torture -that dear, loving heart by my insults, and my own existence, my own -heart would be blighted by remorse. But would she be happier with this -Gismondo Gaddi? Why should she marry him? We were so happy together. -After all, Stefana must know that an artist's instincts and temperament -do not easily accommodate themselves to the rigid bonds, the commonplace -necessities of family life. I must say farewell to all my dreams of -glory, renounce the thought of making my name famous, and abandon art, -which thrives on liberty and power. How can one create when held a -prisoner at the domestic fireside? Say, O Dante Alighieri! O -Michel-Angelo, my master, how you would laugh to see your pupil rocking -his children to sleep, and asking his wife's pardon! No, I will be brave -in my own behalf, and generous to Stefana: sad and alone I will dream -out my dream and fulfil my destiny.' -</p> - -<p> -"You see, my children, that I make myself no better than I am. There was -some selfishness in my decision, but there was also much deep and -sincere affection for Stefana, and my raving seemed to border closely on -common sense. -</p> - -<p> -"The next morning I returned to the workshop in a reasonably tranquil -frame of mind. Stefana also seemed calm, but she was paler than usual. A -month passed thus. One evening Stefana said, as we parted,— -</p> - -<p> -"'In a week, Benvenuto, I shall be Gismondo Gaddi's wife.' -</p> - -<p> -"As she did not leave me at once, I had time to look at her. She stood -with her hand on her heart, bending beneath her burden of sorrow, and -her sweet smile was sad enough to make one weep. She gazed at me with a -sorrowful expression, but without the least indication of reproach. It -seemed to me as if my angel, ready to leave earth behind, was saying -farewell to me. She stood thus, mute and motionless, for a moment, then -entered the house. -</p> - -<p> -"I was destined never to see her more in this world. -</p> - -<p> -"This time again I left the city bareheaded and running like a madman; -but I did not return the next day, or the next; I kept on until I -reached Rome. -</p> - -<p> -"I remained at Rome five years; I laid the foundation of my reputation, -I won the friendship of the Rope, I had duels and love affairs and -artistic success, but I was not contented,—something was lacking. -Amid my engrossing occupations I never passed a day without turning my -eyes toward Florence. There was no night when I did not see in my dreams -Stefana, pale-faced and sad, standing in the doorway of her father's -house, and gazing at me. -</p> - -<p> -"After five years I received a letter from Florence, sealed with black. -I read and reread it so many times that I know it now by heart. -</p> - -<p> -"It ran thus:— -</p> - -<p> -"'Benvenuto, I am dying. Benvenuto, I loved you. -</p> - -<p> -"'Listen to the dreams I dreamed. I knew you as well as I knew myself. I -foresaw the power that is in you, and that will make you great some day. -Your genius, which I read upon your broad forehead, in your ardent -glance and your passionate gestures, would impose grave duties on her -who should bear your name. I was ready to undertake them. Happiness had -for me the solemnity of a divine mission. I would not have been your -wife, Benvenuto, I would have been your friend, your sister, your -mother. Your noble existence belongs to all mankind, I know, and I would -have assumed no other right than that of diverting you in your ennui, of -uplifting you in your moments of depression. You would have been free, -my friend, always and everywhere. Alas! I had long since become -accustomed to your lamentable absences from home, to all the exactions -of your impulsive nature, to all the whims of your tempest-loving heart. -Every powerful temperament has pressing needs. The longer the eagle has -soared aloft, the longer he is obliged to rest on earth. But when you -had torn yourself free from the feverish dreams of your genius, I would -have found once more at the awakening my sublime Benvenuto, whom I love -so dearly, and who would have belonged to me alone! I would never have -reproached you for the hours of neglect, for they would have contained -no insult for me. For my own part, knowing you to be jealous, as is -every noble heart, jealous as the God of Holy Writ, I would have -remained in seclusion when you were away, in the solitude which I love, -awaiting your return and praying for you. -</p> - -<p> -"'Such would my life have been. -</p> - -<p> -"'But when I saw that you abandoned me, I bowed submissively to God's -will and yours, closed my eyes, and placed my fate in the hands of duty. -My father ordered me to enter into a marriage which would save him from -dishonor, and I obeyed. My husband has been harsh, stern, pitiless; he -has not been content with my docile submission, but demanded a love -beyond my power to give, and punished me brutally for my involuntary -sadness. I resigned myself to endure everything. I have been, I trust, a -pure and dignified spouse, but always very sad at heart, Benvenuto. God -has rewarded me, however, even in this world, by giving me a son. My -child's kisses have for four years past prevented me from feeling -insults, blows, and last of all poverty! for my husband ruined himself -trying to gain too much, and he died last month from chagrin at his -ruin. May God forgive him as I do! -</p> - -<p> -"'I shall be dead myself within the hour, dead from the effects of my -accumulated suffering, and I bequeath my son to you, Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"'Perhaps all is for the best. Who can say if my womanly weakness would -have been equal to the task I would have undertaken with you. He, my -Ascanio,—he is like me,—will be a stronger and more submissive -companion for you; he will love you better, if not more dearly. I am not -jealous of him. -</p> - -<p> -"'Do for my child what I would have done for you. -</p> - -<p> -"'Adieu, my friend. I loved you and I love you still, and I tell you -without shame or remorse, at the very doors of eternity, for my love was -holy. Adieu! be great, and I shall be happy: raise your eyes sometimes -to heaven that I may see you. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"'Your STEFANA.'"</p> - -<p> -"Now, Colombe and Ascanio, will you have confidence in me, and are you -ready to do what I advise?" -</p> - -<p> -The young people replied with a single exclamation. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap05_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>V -<br /><br /> -DOMICILIARY VISITS</h4> - -<p> -On the day following that on which this story was told in the garden of -the Petit-Nesle, by the moon's pale light, Benvenuto's studio wore its -accustomed aspect. The master was working at the gold salt dish, the -material for which he had so valiantly defended against the four bravos, -who strove to take it from him, and his life with it. Ascanio was -chiselling Madame d'Etampes's lily; Jacques Aubry, reclining lazily on a -lounging-chair, was putting question after question to Cellini, who paid -no attention to him, and imposed upon the inquisitive student the -necessity of framing his own replies. Pagolo was gazing at Catherine, -who was busy with some woman's work. Hermann and the others were filing, -welding, chiselling, and Scozzone's joyous singing furnished the element -of cheerfulness in this tranquil, busy scene. -</p> - -<p> -The Petit-Nesle was by no means so tranquil, for Colombe had -disappeared. -</p> - -<p> -There all was excitement and apprehension; they were seeking her -everywhere, and calling her name. Dame Perrine was shrieking at the top -of her voice, and the provost, who had been sent for in hot haste, was -trying to lay hold upon something, in the midst of the good woman's -lamentations, which might put him on the track of the absent one, who -was in all probability a fugitive. -</p> - -<p> -"Look you, Dame Perrine; do you say that you last saw her a few moments -after I went away last night?" demanded the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! yes, messire. Jésus Dieu! what a misfortune! The poor, dear -child seemed a bit cast down as she went to take off all her beautiful -court fixings. She put on a simple white dress—saints in Paradise, -have pity on us!—and then she said to me, 'Dame Perrine, it's a -lovely evening, and I will go and take a turn or two in my path.' It -might have been about seven o'clock. Madame here," added Perrine, -pointing to Pulchérie, the woman who had been installed as her -assistant or superior,—"Madame here had already gone to her room, -doubtless to work at those lovely dresses which she makes so well, and I -was at work sewing in the room below. I don't know how long I remained -there,—it is possible that after a while my poor tired eyes closed -in spite of me, and that I lost myself a moment." -</p> - -<p> -"As usual," interposed Pulchérie sharply. -</p> - -<p> -"At all events," continued Dame Perrine, not deigning to reply to this -insidious slander, "about ten o'clock I left my chair and went to the -garden to see if Colombe had not forgotten herself. I called and found -no one: I supposed then that she had gone to her own room and to bed -without disturbing me, as the dear child has done a thousand times. -Merciful Heaven! who would have thought—Ah! Messire le Prévôt, I can -safely say that she followed no lover, but some ravisher. I reared her -in the way—" -</p> - -<p> -"And this morning," the provost broke in impatiently, "this morning?" -</p> - -<p> -"This morning when I found that she didn't come down—Holy Virgin help -us!" -</p> - -<p> -"To the devil with your litanies!" cried Messire d'Estourville. "Say -what you have to say simply and without all these jeremiads. This -morning?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! Monsieur le Prévôt, you can't prevent my weeping until she is -found. This morning, messire, being alarmed at not seeing her (she is -always so early!) I knocked at her door to wake her, and, as she did not -answer, I opened the door. No one. The bed was not even rumpled, -messire. With that I called and cried, and lost my head, and you want me -not to weep!" -</p> - -<p> -"Dame Perrine," said the provost sternly; "have you admitted any one -here during my absence?" -</p> - -<p> -"I admit any one! the idea!" rejoined the governess with every -indication of stupefaction, feeling a little conscience-stricken in that -regard. "Didn't you forbid me, messire? Since when, pray, have I -allowed myself to disobey your orders? Admit some one? Oh yes, of -course!" -</p> - -<p> -"This Benvenuto, for instance, who had the assurance to deem my daughter -so fair; has he never tried to buy you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Good lack! he would have been more likely to try to fly to the moon. I -would have received him prettily, I promise you." -</p> - -<p> -"I am to understand, then, that you have never admitted a man, a young -man, to the Petit-Nesle?" -</p> - -<p> -"A young man! Merciful Heaven! a young man! Why not the devil himself?" -</p> - -<p> -"Pray who is the handsome boy," said Pulchérie, "who has knocked at the -door at least ten times since I have been here, and in whose face I have -shut the door as often?" -</p> - -<p> -"A handsome boy? Your sight must be poor, my dear, unless it was Comte -d'Orbec. Ah, bon Dieu! I know: you may mean Ascanio. You know Ascanio, -Messire? the young fellow who saved your life. Yes, I did give him my -shoe-buckles to repair. But he, that apprentice! Wear glasses, my love! -May these walls and pavements speak, if they ever saw him here!" -</p> - -<p> -"Enough," interposed the provost severely. "If you have betrayed my -confidence, Dame Perrine, I swear that you shall pay me for it! I am -going now to this Benvenuto; God knows how the clown will receive me, -but go I must." -</p> - -<p> -Contrary to his expectation Benvenuto received the provost with perfect -civility. In the face of his cool and easy manner and his good humor, -Messire d'Estourville did not dare mention his suspicions. But he said -that his daughter, having been unnecessarily alarmed the evening before, -had fled in her panic terror like a mad girl; that it was possible that -she might have taken refuge in the Grand-Nesle without Benvenuto's -knowledge,—or else that she might have fainted somewhere in the -grounds as she was passing through. In short, he lied in the most bungling -way imaginable. -</p> - -<p> -But Cellini courteously accepted all his fables and all his excuses; -indeed, he was so obliging as to appear to notice nothing out of the -way. He did more, he sympathized with the provost with all his heart, -declaring that he would be happy to assist in restoring his daughter to -a father who had always hedged her around with such touching affection. -To hear him, one might suppose the fugitive was very much in the wrong, -and could not too soon return to so pleasant a home and so loving a -parent. Moreover, to prove the sincerity of his interest in Messire -d'Estourville's affliction, he placed himself at his disposal to assist -him in his search in the Grand-Nesle and elsewhere. -</p> - -<p> -The provost, half convinced, and the more deeply affected by these -eulogiums, in that he knew in his heart that he did not deserve them, -began a careful search of his former property, of which he knew all the -ins and outs. There was not a door that he did not open, not a wardrobe -nor a chest into which he did not peer, as if by inadvertence. Having -inspected every nook and corner of the hotel itself, he went into the -garden, and searched the arsenal, foundry, stables and cellar, -scrutinizing everything most rigorously. Benvenuto, faithful to his -first offer, accompanied him throughout his investigations, and assisted -him to the utmost of his ability, offering him all the keys, and calling -his attention to this or that corridor or closet which the provost -overlooked. He advised him to leave one of his people on guard in each -spot as he left it, lest the fugitive should evade him by stealing from -place to place. -</p> - -<p> -Having continued his perquisitions for two hours to no purpose, Messire -d'Estourville, feeling sure that he had omitted nothing, and overwhelmed -by his host's politeness, left the Grand-Nesle, with profuse thanks and -apologies to its master. -</p> - -<p> -"Whenever it suits your pleasure to return," said the goldsmith, "and if -you desire to renew your investigations here, my house is open to you at -all times, as when it was your own. Indeed it is your right, messire; -did we not sign a treaty whereby we agreed to live on neighborly terms?" -</p> - -<p> -The provost thanked Benvenuto, and as he knew not how to return his -courtesy, he loudly praised, as he went away, the colossal statue of -Mars, which the artist was at work upon, as we have said. Benvenuto led -him around it, and complacently called his attention to its amazing -proportions; it was more than sixty feet high and nearly twenty in -circumference at its base. -</p> - -<p> -Messire d'Estourville withdrew much dejected. As he had failed to find -his daughter in the precincts of the Grand-Nesle, he was convinced that -she had found shelter somewhere in the city. But even at that time the -city was sufficiently large to make his own task as chief officer of the -police an embarrassing one. Then, too, there was this question to be -solved. Had she been kidnapped, or had she fled? Was she the victim of -some other person's violence, or had she yielded to her own impulse? -There was nothing to set at rest his uncertainty upon this point. He -hoped that in the first event she would succeed in escaping, and in the -second would return of her own volition. He therefore waited with what -patience he could muster, none the less questioning Dame Perrine twenty -times a day, who passed her time calling upon the saints in paradise, -and swearing by all the gods that she had admitted no one; and indeed -she was no more suspicious than Messire d'Estourville himself of -Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -That day and the next passed without news. The provost thereupon put all -his agents in the field: a thing he had hitherto omitted to do, in order -that the unfortunate occurrence, in which his reputation was so deeply -interested, might not be noised abroad. To be sure he simply gave them -Colombe's description, without giving them her name, and their -investigations were made upon an entirely different pretext from the -real one. But although he resorted to all his secret sources of -information, all their searching was without result. -</p> - -<p> -Surely he had never been an affectionate or gentle father, but if he was -not in despair, he was in a bad temper, and his pride suffered if his -heart did not. He thought indignantly of the fine match which the little -fool would perhaps miss by reason of this escapade, and with furious -rage of the witticisms and sarcasms with which his misadventure would be -greeted at court. -</p> - -<p> -He had to make up his mind at last to confide his woful tale to Comte -d'Orbec. Colombe's <i>fiancé</i> was grieved by the news, in the same way -as a merchant is grieved who learns that part of his cargo has been -jettisoned, and not otherwise. He was a philosopher, was the dear count, -and promised his worthy friend that, if the affair did not make too much -noise, the marriage should come off none the less; and, as he was a man -who knew how to strike when the iron was hot, he seized the opportunity -to whisper to the provost a few words as to the plans of Madame -d'Etampes regarding Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -The provost was dazzled at the honor which might be in store for him: -his anger redoubled, and he cursed the ungrateful girl who was ruining -her own chances of such a noble destiny. We spare our readers the -details of the conversation between the two old courtiers to which this -avowal of Comte d'Orbec led; we will say simply that grief and hope were -combined therein in a curiously touching way. As misfortune brings men -together, the prospective father-in-law and son-in-law parted more -closely united than ever, and without making up their minds to renounce -the brilliant prospects of which they had caught a glimpse. -</p> - -<p> -They agreed to keep the occurrence secret from everybody; but the -Duchesse d'Etampes was too intimate a friend, and too deeply interested -as an accomplice, not to be let into their confidence. It was a wise -move on their part, for she took the thing much more to heart than the -father and husband had done, and, as we know, she was better qualified -than any other to give the provost information and direct his search. -</p> - -<p> -She knew of Ascanio's love for Colombe, and she had herself forced him, -so to speak, to listen to the whole conspiracy. The young man, realizing -that a blow was to be aimed at the honor of his beloved, had perhaps -resolved upon some desperate act. But Ascanio had himself told her that -Colombe did not love him, and not loving him she would be unlikely to -lend herself to such a design. Now the Duchesse d'Etampes knew him upon -whom her suspicion first fell sufficiently well to be sure that he would -never have the courage to defy his mistress's scorn and her resistance; -and yet, despite all her reasoning, and although in her eyes all the -probabilities pointed to Ascanio's innocence, her jealous instinct told -her that Colombe must be sought at the Hôtel de Nesle, and that they -must make sure of Ascanio before everything. -</p> - -<p> -But, on the other hand, Madame d'Etampes could not tell her friends the -source of that conviction, for she must in that case confess her love -for Ascanio, and that, in the imprudence of her passion, she had made -known to him all her designs upon Colombe. She simply said to them that -she would be very much mistaken if Benvenuto were not the culprit, -Ascanio his accomplice, and the Grand-Nesle the place of concealment. To -no purpose did the provost argue with her, and swear that he had -inspected and searched every corner, she would not yield her point, -saying that she had her reasons for the faith that was in her, and she -was so obstinate in her opinion that she ended by arousing suspicion in -the mind of Messire d'Estourville, who was certain nevertheless that he -had made a thorough search. -</p> - -<p> -"However," said the duchess, "I will send for Ascanio, I will see him -and question him myself, never fear." -</p> - -<p> -"O madame! you are too kind," said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"And you too stupid," muttered the duchess between her teeth. She -dismissed them, and set about reflecting upon the method she should -adopt to induce the young man to come to her; but before she had decided -upon any, Ascanio was announced; it was as if he had anticipated her -wish. -</p> - -<p> -He was cold and calm. The gaze with which Madame d'Etampes received him -was so piercing that you would have said she wished to read to the very -bottom of his heart; but Ascanio did not seem to notice it. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said he, as he saluted her, "I have come to show you your -lily, which is almost finished; almost nothing is lacking to complete it -save the two hundred thousand crown dewdrop you promised to furnish me." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! and your Colombe?" was the only reply vouchsafed by Madame -d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p> -"If you mean Mademoiselle d'Estourville, madame," rejoined Ascanio -gravely, "I will beg you on my knees not to pronounce her name again -before me. Yes, madame, I most humbly and earnestly implore you that -this subject may never be mentioned between us, in pity's name!" -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! spite!" said the duchess, who did not remove her penetrating gaze -from Ascanio's face for an instant. -</p> - -<p> -"Whatever the feeling which influences me, madame, and though I were to -be disgraced in your eyes, I shall venture to decline hereafter to talk -with you upon this subject. I have sworn a solemn oath that everything -connected with that memory shall be dead and buried in my heart." -</p> - -<p> -"Am I mistaken?" thought the duchess; "and has Ascanio no part in this -transaction? Can it be that the child has followed some other adorer, -voluntarily or perforce, and, although lost to my ambitious schemes, has -served the interests of my passion by her flight?" -</p> - -<p> -Having indulged in these reflections beneath her breath, she continued, -aloud:— -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, you beg me not to speak of her again, but you will at least -allow me to speak of yourself. You see that in obedience to your -entreaty I do not insist, but who knows if this second subject will not -be even more disagreeable to you than the first? Who knows—" -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me for interrupting you, madame," said the young man, "but your -kindness in granting me the favor I ask emboldens me to ask another. -Although of noble birth, I am simply a poor, obscure youth, reared in -the gloom of a goldsmith's workshop, and from that artistic cloister I -am suddenly transported to a brilliant sphere, involved in the destiny -of empires, and, weak creature that I am, having powerful noblemen for -enemies, and a king for rival. And such a king, madame! François I., -one of the most powerful princes in Christendom! I have suddenly found -myself elbow to elbow with the most illustrious names of the age. I have -loved hopelessly, I have been honored with a love I could not return! -And with whose love? Great God! yours, madame, one of the loveliest and -noblest women on earth! All this has sown confusion within me and -without; it has bewildered and crushed me, madame. -</p> - -<p> -"I am as terrified as a dwarf awaking to find himself among giants: I -haven't an idea in its place, not a feeling which I can explain. I feel -lost among all these terrible animosities, all these implacable -passions, all these soaring ambitions. Madame, give me time to breathe, -I conjure you; permit the poor shipwrecked wretch to collect his -thoughts, the convalescent to recover his strength. Time, I hope, will -restore order in my mind and my life. Time, madame, give me time, and in -pity's name see in me to-day only the artist who comes to ask if his -lily is to your taste." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess stared at Ascanio in doubt and amazement; she had not -supposed that this young man, this child, was capable of speaking in -this grave, stern, poetic fashion; she felt morally constrained to obey -him, and confined her conversation to the lily, praising and advising -Ascanio, and promising to do her utmost to send him very soon the large -diamond to complete his work. Ascanio thanked her, and took his leave -with every mark of gratitude and respect. -</p> - -<p> -"Can that be Ascanio?" said Madame d'Etampes to herself, when he had -gone; "he seems ten years older. What gives him this almost imposing -gravity? Is it suffering? is it happiness? Is he sincere, in short, or -acting under the influence of that accursed Benvenuto? Is he playing a -part with the talent of a consummate artist, or is he simply following -his own nature?" -</p> - -<p> -Anne was perplexed. The strange vertigo which gradually overpowered all -those who contended with Benvenuto Cellini began to steal over her, -despite her strength of mind. She set spies upon Ascanio, who followed -him on the rare occasions when he left the studio, but that step led to -no result. At last she sent for the provost and Comte d'Orbec, and -advised them, as another would have ordered, to make a second and -unexpected domiciliary visit to the Grand-Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -They followed her advice; but although surprised at his work, Benvenuto -received them even more cordially than he received the provost alone on -the former occasion. One would have said, so courteous and expansive was -he, that their presence implied no suspicions that were insulting to -him. He told Comte d'Orbec good-humoredly of the ambush that he fell into -as he left his house with his golden burden a few days before,—on -the same day, he observed, on which Mademoiselle d'Estourville -disappeared. This time as before he offered to accompany his visitors -through the château, and to assist the provost in recovering his -authority as a father, whose sacred duties he understood so well. He was -very happy that he happened to be at home to do honor to his guests, for -he was to start that same day within two hours for Romorantin, having -been named by François I., in his condescension, as one of the artists -who were to go to meet the Emperor. -</p> - -<p> -For events in the world of politics had moved on as rapidly as those of -our humble narrative. Charles V., emboldened by his rival's public -promise, and by the secret undertaking of Madame d'Etampes, was within -a few day's journey of Paris. A deputation had been selected to go out -to receive him, and D'Orbec and the provost found Cellini in travelling -costume. -</p> - -<p> -"If he leaves Paris with the rest of the escort," D'Orbec whispered to -the provost, "in all probability he didn't carry off Colombe, and we -have no business here." -</p> - -<p> -"I told you so before we came," retorted the provost. -</p> - -<p> -However, they decided to go through with their perquisition, and set -about it with painstaking minuteness. Benvenuto accompanied them at -first, but as he saw that their investigations were likely to be very -prolonged, he asked their permission to leave them, and return to the -studio to give some orders to his workmen, as he was to take his leave -very soon, and desired to find the preparations for casting his Jupiter -finished at his return. -</p> - -<p> -He did in fact return to the studio, and distributed the work among his -men, bidding them obey Ascanio as if he were himself. He then said a few -words in Italian in Ascanio's ear, bade them all adieu, and prepared to -take his departure. A horse all saddled, and held by little Jehan, -awaited him in the outer courtyard. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment Scozzone went up to Benvenuto and took him aside. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know, master," she said with a sober face, "that your departure -leaves me in a very difficult position?" -</p> - -<p> -"How so, my child?" -</p> - -<p> -"Pagolo is becoming fonder of me all the time." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! is it so?" -</p> - -<p> -"And he is forever talking to me about his love." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you reply?" -</p> - -<p> -"Dame! as you bade me, master. I say that I will see, and that perhaps -it may be arranged." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well." -</p> - -<p> -"How is it very well? You don't understand, Benvenuto, that he takes -everything that I say to him most seriously, and that I may be entering -into a real engagement with him. It's a fortnight since you laid down a -rule of conduct for me to adopt, is it not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I think so; I hardly remember." -</p> - -<p> -"But I have a better memory than you. During the first five days I -replied by reasoning gently with him: I told him he must try to conquer -his passion, and love me no more. The next five days I listened in -silence, and that was a very compromising kind of an answer; but you -bade me do it, so I did it. Since then I have been driven to talk of my -duty to you, and yesterday, master, I reached a point where I besought -him to be generous, while he pressed me to confess my love for him." -</p> - -<p> -"If that is so, it puts a different face on the matter," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, at last!" said Scozzone. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, now listen, little one. During the first three days of my absence, -you will let him think that you love him; during the next three, you -will confess your love." -</p> - -<p> -"What, you bid me do that, Benvenuto!" cried Scozzone, deeply wounded at -the master's too great confidence in her. -</p> - -<p> -"Never you fear. What have you to reproach yourself for when I authorize -you to do it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! nothing, I know," said Scozzone; "but being placed as I am -between your indifference and his love, I may end by falling in love -with him outright." -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense! in six days? Aren't you strong enough to remain indifferent -to him six days?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, indeed! I give you six days; but don't remain away seven, I beg -you." -</p> - -<p> -"No fear, my child, I will return in time. Adieu, Scozzone." -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, master," returned Scozzone, sulking, smiling, and weeping all at -once. -</p> - -<p> -While Cellini was giving Catherine these instructions, the provost and -D'Orbec returned to the studio. -</p> - -<p> -When they were left to themselves, with unrestricted freedom of -movement, they went about their search in a sort of frenzy; they -explored the garrets and cellars, sounded all the walls, moved all the -furniture; they detained all the servants they met, and displayed the -ardor of creditors with the patience of hunters. A hundred times they -retraced their steps, examining the same thing again and again, like a -sheriff's officer with a writ to serve, and when they had finished they -were flushed and excited, but had discovered nothing. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, messieurs," said Benvenuto, preparing to mount his horse, "you -found nothing, eh? So much the worse! so much the worse! I understand -what a painful thing it must be for turn sensitive hearts like yours, -but notwithstanding my sympathy with your suffering and my desire to -assist in your search I must begone. If you feel called upon to visit -the Grand-Nesle in my absence, do not hesitate, but make yourself -perfectly at home here. I have given orders that the house be open to -you at all times. My only consolation for leaving you in so anxious a -frame of mind is the hope that I shall learn upon my return that you -have found your daughter, Monsieur le Prévôt, and you your fair -<i>fiancée</i>, Monsieur d'Orbec. Adieu, messieurs." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he turned to his companions, who were standing in a group at -the door, all save Ascanio, who doubtless did not care to stand faee to -face with his rival. -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, my children," he said. "If during my absence Monsieur le -Prévôt desires to inspect my house a third time, do not forget to -receive him as its former master." -</p> - -<p> -With that little Jehan threw open the door, and Benvenuto galloped away. -</p> - -<p> -"You see that we are idiots, my dear fellow," said Comte d'Orbec to the -provost. "When a man has kidnapped a girl, he doesn't go off to -Romorantin with the court." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap06_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>VI -<br /><br /> -CHARLES THE FIFTH AT FONTAINEBLEAU</h4> - -<p> -It was not without grave doubts and a terrible sinking at the heart that -Charles V. stepped foot upon French territory, where earth and air were, -so to speak, his enemies, whose king he had treated unworthily when he -was a prisoner in his hands, and whose Dauphin he had perhaps -poisoned,—he was at least accused of it. Europe anticipated terrible -reprisals on the part of François I. from the moment that his rival -placed himself in his power. But Charles's audacity, great gambler in -empires that he was, would not permit him to draw back; and as soon as -he had skilfully felt the ground and paved the way, he boldly crossed -the Pyrenees. -</p> - -<p> -He counted upon finding devoted friends at the French court, and thought -that he could safely trust to three guaranties: the ambition of Madame -d'Etampes, the overweening conceit of the Connétable Anne de -Montmorency, and the king's chivalrous nature. -</p> - -<p> -We have seen how and for what reason the duchess chose to serve his -interests. With the constable it was a different matter. The great -stumbling-block in the way of statesmen of all lands and all periods is -the question of alliances. Politics, which, in this matter and many -others, is perforce conjectural only, is often mistaken, alas! like the -science of medicine, in studying the symptoms of affinities between -peoples, and in risking remedies for their animosities. Now the -constable was a monomaniac on the subject of the Spanish alliance. He -had got it into his head that France's salvation lay in that direction, -and provided that he could satisfy Charles V., who had been at war with -his master twenty years out of twenty-five, he cared but little how much -he displeased his other allies, the Turks and the Protestants, or let -slip the most magnificent opportunities, like that which gave Flanders -to François I. -</p> - -<p> -The king had blind confidence in Montmorency. In truth the constable had -in the last war against the Emperor displayed a hitherto unheard of -resolution, and had checked the enemy's advance. To be sure he did it at -the cost of the ruin of a province, by laying the country waste before -him, by devastating a tenth part of France. But what especially -impressed the king was his minister's haughty roughness of manner, his -inflexible obstinacy, which to a superficial mind might seem cleverness -and unswerving firmness of resolution. The result was that François -listened to the "great suborner of men," as Brantôme calls him, with a -deference equal to the fear inspired in his inferiors by this terrible -reciter of <i>paternosters</i>, who alternated his prayers with hangings. -</p> - -<p> -Charles V. could therefore safely rely upon the persevering friendship -of the constable. -</p> - -<p> -He placed even more reliance upon his rival's generosity. Indeed, -François I. carried magnanimity to an absurd point. -</p> - -<p> -"My kingdom," he said, "has no toll-house, like a bridge, and I do not -sell my hospitality." The astute Charles knew that he could trust the -word of the "knightly king." -</p> - -<p> -Nevertheless, when the Emperor was fairly' upon French territory, he -could not overcome his apprehension and his doubts. He found the king's -two sons awaiting him at the frontier, and throughout his journey they -overwhelmed him with attentions and honors. But the crafty monarch -shuddered as he thought that all this appearance of cordiality might -conceal some deep-laid snare. -</p> - -<p> -"I must say that I sleep very ill," he said, "in a foreign country." -</p> - -<p> -He brought an anxious preoccupied face to the fêtes which were given -him, and, as he advanced farther and farther toward the heart of the -country, he became more and more sad and gloomy. -</p> - -<p> -Whenever he rode into a city, he would ask himself, amid all the -haranguing, as he passed beneath the triumphal arches, if that was the -city where he was to be imprisoned; then he would murmur beneath his -breath, "Not this or any other city, but all France, is my dungeon; all -these assiduous courtiers are my jailers." And each hour as it passed -added something to the apprehension of this tiger, who believed himself -to be in a cage, and saw bars on all sides. -</p> - -<p> -One day, as they were riding along, Charles d'Orléans, a fascinating, -frolicsome child,—who was in great haste to be amiable and -gallant, as a son of France, before dying of the plague like any -peasant,—leaped lightly to the saddle behind the Emperor and threw -his arms about his waist, crying gleefully, "Now you are my prisoner!" -Charles became pale as death, and nearly fainted. -</p> - -<p> -At Châtellerault, the poor imaginary captive was met by François, who -welcomed him fraternally, and on the following day presented the whole -court to him,—the valorous, magnificent nobility, the glory of the -country, and the artists and men of letters, the glory of the king. The -fêtes and merry-makings began in good earnest. The Emperor wore a brave -face everywhere, but in his heart he was afraid, and constantly -reproached himself for his imprudence. From time to time, as if to test -his liberty, he would go out at daybreak from the château where he had -lain at night, and he was delighted to see that his movements were not -interfered with outside of the honors paid him. But could he be sure -that he was not watched from a distance? Sometimes, as if from mere -caprice, he changed the itinerary arranged for his journey, to the -despair of François I., because part of the ceremonial prescribed by -him went for naught as a consequence. -</p> - -<p> -When he was within two day's ride of Paris he remembered with terror the -French king's sojourn at Madrid. For an emperor the capital would seem -to be the most honorable place of detention, and at the same time the -surest. He therefore begged the king to escort him at once to -Fontainebleau, of which he had heard so much. This overturned all of -François's plans, but he was too hospitable to allow his disappointment -to appear, and at once sent word to the queen and all the ladies to -repair to Fontainebleau. -</p> - -<p> -The presence of his sister Eleanora, and her confidence in her husband's -good faith, allayed the Emperor's anxiety to some extent. But, although -reassured for the moment, Charles V. was never able to feel at his ease -while he was within the dominions of the King of France. François was -the mirror of the past, Charles the type of the future. The sovereign of -modern times never rightly understood the hero of the Middle Ages; it -was impossible that there should be any real sympathy between the last -of the chevaliers and the first of the diplomatists. -</p> - -<p> -It is true Louis XI. might, strictly speaking, lay claim to this latter -title, but in our opinion Louis XI. was not so much the scheming -diplomatist as the grasping miser. -</p> - -<p> -On the day of the Emperor's arrival there was a hunting party in the -forest of Fontainebleau. Hunting was a favorite pastime of François I. -It was not much better than a terrible bore to Charles V. Nevertheless -he seized with avidity this further opportunity to see if he was not a -prisoner; he let the hunt pass, took a by-road, and rode about at random -until he was lost. But when he found that he was entirely alone in the -middle of the forest, as free as the air that blew through the branches, -or as the birds that flew through the air, he was almost wholly -reassured, and began to recover his good humor in some measure. And yet -the anxious expression returned to his faee when, upon his making his -appearance at the rendezvous, François came to him, flushed with the -excitement of the chase, and still holding in his hand the bleeding -boar-spear. The warrior of Marignano and Pavia was much in evidence in -the king's pleasures. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, my dear brother, let us enjoy ourselves!" said François, passing -his arm through Charles's in a friendly way, when they had both alighted -at the palace gate, and, leading him to the Galerie de Diane, -resplendent with the paintings of Rosso and Primaticcio. "Vrai Dieu! you -are as thoughtful as I was at Madrid. But you will agree, my dear -brother, that I had some reason for being so, for I was your prisoner, -while you are my guest; you are free, you are on the eve of a triumph. -Rejoice therefore with us, if not because of the fêtes, which are -doubtless beneath the notice of a great politician like yourself, at -least in the thought that you are on your way to humble all those -beer-drinking Flemings, who presume to talk of renewing the Communes. -Or, better still, forget the rebels, and think only of enjoying yourself -with friends. Does not my court impress you pleasantly?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is superb, my brother," said Charles, "and I envy you. I too have a -court—you have seen it—but a stern, joyless court, a gloomy -assemblage of statesmen and generals like Lannoy, Peschiara, and Antonio -de Leyra. But you have, beside your warriors and statesmen, beside your -Montmorencys and Dubellays, beside your scholars, beside Budée, -Duchâtel, and Lascaris,—beside all these you have your poets and -your artists, Marot, Jean Goujon, Primaticcio, Benvenuto; and, above -all, your adorable women,—Marguerite de Navarre, Diane de -Poitiers, Catherine de Medicis, and so many others; and verily I begin -to believe, my dear brother, that I would willingly exchange my gold -mines for your flower-strewn fields." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! but you have not yet seen the fairest of all these lovely flowers," -said François naïvely to Eleanora's brother. -</p> - -<p> -"No, and I am dying with longing to see that marvellous pearl of -loveliness," said the Emperor, who understood that the king alluded to -Madame d'Etampes; "but even now I think that it is well said that yours -is the fairest realm on earth, my brother." -</p> - -<p> -"But you have the fairest countship, Flanders; the fairest duchy, -Milan." -</p> - -<p> -"You refused the first last month," said the Emperor, smiling, "and I -thank you for so doing; but you covet the other, do you not?" he added -with a sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! let us not talk of serious matters to-day, my cousin, I beg you," -said François; "after the pleasures of war there is nothing, I confess, -which I like less to disturb than the pleasures of a festal occasion -like the present." -</p> - -<p> -"It is the truth," rejoined Charles, with the grimace of a miser, who -realizes that he must pay a debt, "it is the truth that the Milanese is -very dear to my heart, and that it would be like tearing my heart out to -give it to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Say rather to return it to me, my brother; that word would be more -accurate, and would perhaps soften your disappointment. But that is not -the matter in hand now; we must enjoy ourselves. We will talk of the -Milanese later." -</p> - -<p> -"Gift or restitution, given or returned," said the Emperor, "you will -none the less possess one of the finest lordships in the world; for you -shall have it, my brother; it is decided, and I will keep my engagements -with you as faithfully as you keep yours with me." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" cried François, beginning to be vexed at this everlasting -recurrence to serious matters; "what do you regret, my brother? Are you -not King of the Spains, Emperor of Germany, Count of Flanders, and lord, -either by influence or by right of your sword, of all Italy, from the -foot of the Alps to the farthest point of Calabria?" -</p> - -<p> -"But you have France!" rejoined Charles with a sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"You have the Indies and their golden treasures; you have Peru and the -mines!" -</p> - -<p> -"But you have France!" -</p> - -<p> -"You reign over an empire so vast that the sun never sets upon it." -</p> - -<p> -"But you have France! What would your Majesty say, if I should cast an -eye on this diamond among kingdoms, as fondly and gloatingly as you gaze -upon that pearl of duchies, Milan?" -</p> - -<p> -"Look, you, my brother," said François gravely, "I have instincts -rather than ideas upon these momentous questions; but, as they say in -your country, 'Do not touch the queen!' so I say to you, 'Do not touch -France!'" -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed Charles; "are we not cousins and allies?" -</p> - -<p> -"Most certainly," was François's reply, "and I most earnestly hope that -nothing will happen henceforth to embitter our relationship or disturb -our alliance." -</p> - -<p> -"I too hope so," said the Emperor. "But," he continued, with his cunning -smile and hypocritical expression, "can I answer for the future, and -prevent my son Philip, for instance, from falling out with your son -Henri?" -</p> - -<p> -"Such a quarrel would not be dangerous for France, if Augustus is -succeeded by Tiberius." -</p> - -<p> -"What matter who the master is?" said Charles, waxing warm; "the Empire -will still be the Empire, and the Rome of the Cæsars was still Rome -when the Cæsars had ceased to be Cæsars in everything save name." -</p> - -<p> -"True, but the Empire of Charles V. is not the Empire of Octavius, my -brother," said François, a little piqued. "Pavia was a glorious battle, -but it was no Actium; then, too, Octavius was very wealthy, while, -notwithstanding your Indian treasures and your Peruvian mines, you are -well known to be in straitened circumstances financially; your unpaid -troops were driven to sack Rome to procure means of subsistence, and now -that Rome is sacked they are in revolt." -</p> - -<p> -"And you, my brother," said Charles, "have alienated the royal domains, -as I am informed, and are driven to treat Luther very tenderly, so that -the German princes may consent to loan you money." -</p> - -<p> -"Not to mention the fact," retorted François, "that your Cortes is very -far from being so manageable as the Senate, while I can boast that I -have freed the Kings of France from their dependence forever." -</p> - -<p> -"Beware that your parliaments don't put you back into leading-strings -some fine day." -</p> - -<p> -The discussion was growing warm, both monarchs were getting excited, and -the long standing antipathy which had kept them apart so long, was -beginning to glow afresh. François was on the point of forgetting the -duties of hospitality, and Charles the dictates of prudence, when the -former suddenly remembered that he was beneath his own roof. -</p> - -<p> -"On my word, my good brother," he exclaimed abruptly, laughing aloud, "I -believe, by Mahomet's belly! that we were near losing our tempers. I -told you that we must not talk of serious matters, but must leave such -discussions to our ministers, and keep for ourselves only our good -friendship. Come, let us agree, once for all, that you are to have the -world, less France, and drop the subject." -</p> - -<p> -"And less the Milanese, my brother," said Charles, realizing the -imprudence he had been guilty of, and seeking at once to avoid its -effects, "for the Milanese is yours. I have promised it to you, and I -renew my promise." -</p> - -<p> -As they exchanged these mutual assurances of continuing good will, the -door of the gallery opened, and Madame d'Etampes appeared. The king -walked quickly to meet her, took her hand, and led her to where the -Emperor stood, who, seeing her then for the first time, and, being fully -informed as to what had taken place between her and Monsieur de Medina, -fixed his most penetrating gaze upon her as she approached. -</p> - -<p> -"My brother," said the king smiling, "do you see this fair dame?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not only do I see her," replied Charles, "but I admire her." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! you do not know what she wants?" -</p> - -<p> -"Is it one of my Spains? I will give it her." -</p> - -<p> -"No, no, brother, not that." -</p> - -<p> -"What then?" -</p> - -<p> -"She wants me to detain you at Paris until you have destroyed the treaty -of Madrid, and confirmed by acts the promise you have given me." -</p> - -<p> -"If the advice is good, you should follow it," rejoined the Emperor, -bowing low before the duchess, as much to hide the sudden pallor which -these words caused to overspread his face, as to perform an act of -courtesy. -</p> - -<p> -He had no time to say more, nor could François see the effect produced -by the words he had laughingly let fall, and which Charles was quite -ready to take seriously, for the door opened again and the whole court -poured into the gallery. -</p> - -<p> -During the half-hour preceding dinner, when this clever, cultivated, -corrupt throng was assembled in the salons of the palace, the scene we -described apropos of the reception at the Louvre was re-enacted in all -its essential details. There were the same men and the same women, the -same courtiers and the same valets. Loving and malevolent glances were -exchanged as usual, and sarcastic remarks and gallant speeches were -indulged in with the customary freedom. -</p> - -<p> -Charles V., spying Anne de Montmorency, whom he with good reason deemed -to be his surest ally, went to him, and talked in a corner with him and -the Duke of Medina, his ambassador. -</p> - -<p> -"I will sign whatever you choose, constable," said the Emperor, who knew -the old campaigner's loyalty; "prepare a deed of cession of the Duchy of -Milan, and by Saint James, though it be one of the brightest jewels of -my crown, I will sign an absolute surrender of it to you." -</p> - -<p> -"A deed!" cried the constable, hotly putting aside the suggestion of a -precaution which implied distrust. "A deed, Sire! what is your Majesty's -meaning? No deed, Sire, no deed; your word, nothing more. Does your -Majesty think that we shall have less confidence in you than you had in -us, when you came to France with no written document to rely upon?" -</p> - -<p> -"You will do as you should do, Monsieur de Montmorency," rejoined the -Emperor, giving him his hand, "you will do what you should do." -</p> - -<p> -The constable walked away. -</p> - -<p> -"Poor dupe!" exclaimed the Emperor; "he plays at politics, Medina, as -moles dig their holes, blindly." -</p> - -<p> -"But the king, Sire?" queried Medina. -</p> - -<p> -"The king is too proud of his own grandeur of soul not to be sure of -ours. He will foolishly let us go, Medina, and we will prudently let him -wait. To make him wait, my lord, is not to break my promise, but to -postpone its fulfilment, that is all." -</p> - -<p> -"But Madame d'Etampes?" suggested Medina. -</p> - -<p> -"As to her we shall see," said the Emperor, moving up and down a -magnificent ring with a superb diamond, which he wore on his left thumb. -"Ah! I must have a long interview with her." -</p> - -<p> -While these words were rapidly exchanged in low tones between the -Emperor and his minister, the duchess was mercilessly making sport of -Marmagne, apropos of his nocturnal exploits, all in presence of Messire -d'Estourville. -</p> - -<p> -"Can it be of your people, Monsieur de Marmagne," she was saying, "that -Benvenuto tells every comer this extraordinary story? Attacked by four -bandits, and with but one arm free to defend himself, he simply made -these gentry escort him home. Were you one of these gentlemanly bravos, -viscount?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," replied poor Marmagne, in confusion, "it did not take place -precisely in that way, and Benvenuto tells the story too favorably for -himself." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, I doubt not that he embroiders it a little, and adds a few -details by way of ornament, but the main fact is true, viscount, the -main fact is true; and in such matters the main fact is everything." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," returned Marmagne, "I promise you that I will have my revenge, -and I shall be more fortunate next time." -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon, viscount, pardon! it's not a question of revenge, but of -beginning another game. Cellini, I should say, has won the first two -bouts." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, thanks to my absence," muttered Marmagne, with increasing -embarrassment; "because my men took advantage of my not being there to -run away, the miserable villains!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" said the provost, "I advise you, Marmagne, to admit that you are -beaten in that direction; you have no luck with Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case it seems to me that we may console each other, my dear -provost," retorted Marmagne, "for if we add known facts to the -mysterious rumors which are in circulation,—the capture of the -Grand-Nesle to the reported disappearance of one of its fair -inmates,—Cellini would seem not to have brought you luck either, -Messire d'Estourville. To be sure, he is said to be actively interested -in the fortunes of your family, if not in your own, my dear provost." -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur de Marmagne," cried the provost fiercely, in a furious rage to -learn that his paternal infelicity was beginning to be noised -abroad,—"Monsieur de Marmagne, you will explain to me later what you -mean by your words." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah messieurs, messieurs!" exclaimed the duchess, "do not forget, I beg -you, that I am here. You are both in the wrong. Monsieur le Prévôt, it -is not for those who know so little about seeking to ridicule those who -know so little about finding. Monsieur de Marmagne, in the hour of -defeat we must unite against the common enemy, and not afford him the -additional satisfaction of seeing the vanquished slashing at one -another's throats. They are going to the <i>salle-à-manger</i>; your hand, -Monsieur de Marmagne. Ah, well! since it seems that men, for all their -strength, avail nothing against Cellini, we will see if a woman's wiles -will find him equally invincible. I have always thought that allies were -simply in the way, and have always loved to make war alone. The risk is -greater, I know, but at least the honors of victory are not to be shared -with any one." -</p> - -<p> -"The impertinent varlet!" exclaimed Marmagne; "see how familiarly he is -talking to our great king. Would not one say he was nobly born, whereas -he is naught but a mere stone-cutter." -</p> - -<p> -"What's that you say, viscount? Why, he is a nobleman, and of the most -venerable nobility!" said the duchess, with a laugh. "Do you know of -many among our oldest families who descend from a lieutenant of Julius -Cæsar, and who have the three <i>fleurs-de-lis</i> and the <i>lambel</i> -of the house of Anjou in their crest? 'T is not the king who honors the -sculptor by speaking to him, messieurs, as you see; the sculptor, on the -other hand, confers honor upon the king by condescending to address -him." -</p> - -<p> -"François I. and Cellini were in fact conversing at that moment with -the familiarity to which the great ones of earth had accustomed the -chosen artist of Heaven. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Benvenuto," the king was saying, "how do we come on with our -Jupiter?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am preparing to cast it, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"And when will that great work be performed?" -</p> - -<p> -"Immediately upon my return to Paris, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"Take our best foundrymen, Cellini, and omit nothing to make the -operation successful. If you need money, you know that I am ready." -</p> - -<p> -"I know that you are the greatest, the noblest, and the most generous -king on earth, Sire," replied Benvenuto; "but thanks to the salary which -your Majesty orders paid to me, I am rich. As to the operation -concerning which you are somewhat anxious, Sire, I will, with your -gracious permission, rely upon my own resources to prepare and execute -it. I distrust all your French foundrymen, not that they are unskilful, -but because I am afraid that their national pride will make them -disinclined to place their skill at the service of an artist from beyond -the Alps. And I confess, Sire, that I attach too much importance to the -success of my Jupiter to allow any other than myself to lay hand to it." -</p> - -<p> -"Bravo, Cellini, bravo!" cried the king; "spoken like a true artist." -</p> - -<p> -"Moreover," added Benvenuto, "I wish to be entitled to remind your -Majesty of the promise you made me." -</p> - -<p> -"That is right, my trusty friend. If we are content with it, we are to -grant you a boon. We have not forgotten. Indeed, if we should forget, we -bound ourselves in the presence of witnesses. Is it not so, Montmorency? -and Poyet? Our constable and our chancellor will remind us of our -plighted word." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! your Majesty cannot conceive how precious that word has become to -me since the day it was given." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well! it shall be kept, Monsieur. But the doors are open. To -table, messieurs, to table!" -</p> - -<p> -François thereupon joined the Emperor, and the two together walked at -the head of the procession formed by the illustrious guests. Both wings -of the folding doors being thrown open, the two sovereigns entered side -by side and took places facing each other, Charles between Eleanora and -Madame d'Etampes, François between Catherine de Medicis and Marguerite -de Navarre. -</p> - -<p> -The banquet was exquisite and the guests in the best of spirits. -François was in his element, and enjoyed himself in kingly fashion, but -laughed like a serf at all the tales told him by Marguerite de Navarre. -Charles overwhelmed Madame d'Etampes with compliments and attentions. -The others talked of art and politics, and so the time passed. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="figure06"></a> -<img src="images/figure06.jpg" width="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -At dessert, as was customary, the pages brought water for the guests to -wash their hands. Thereupon Madame d'Etampes took the ewer and basin -intended for Charles V. from the hands of the servitor, while Marguerite -did the same for François, poured water from the ewer into the basin, -and, kneeling upon one knee, according to the Spanish etiquette, -presented the basin to the Emperor. He dipped the ends of his fingers, -gazing at his noble and beautiful attendant the while, and laughingly -dropped the superb ring, of which we have spoken, into the water. -</p> - -<p> -"Your Majesty is losing your ring," said Anne, dipping her own taper -fingers into the water, and daintily picking up the jewel, which she -handed to the Emperor. -</p> - -<p> -"Keep the ring, madame," the Emperor replied, in a low voice; "the hands -in which it now is are too noble and too beautiful for me to take it -from them again. It is to bind the bargain for the Duchy of Milan," he -added, in a still lower tone. -</p> - -<p> -The duchess smiled and said no more. The pebble had fallen at her feet, -but the pebble was worth a million. -</p> - -<p> -As they returned from the <i>salle-à-manger</i> to the salon, and passed -thence to the ball-room, Madame d'Etampes stopped Benvenuto, who was -brought near to her by the press. -</p> - -<p> -"Messire Cellini," said she, handing him the ring which constituted a -pledge of the alliance between the Emperor and herself, "here is a -diamond which you will hand, if you please, to your pupil Ascanio, for -the crown of my lily; it is the dew drop I promised him." -</p> - -<p> -"And it has fallen from Aurora's fingers in very truth, madame," -rejoined the artist with a mocking smile and affected gallantry. -</p> - -<p> -He glanced at the ring, and started back in surprise, for he recognized -the diamond he had long ago set for Pope Clement VII. and had himself -carried to the sublime Emperor on the sovereign Pontiff's behalf. -</p> - -<p> -To induce Charles V. to divest himself of such a priceless jewel, -especially in favor of a woman, there must necessarily be some secret -understanding, some occult treaty, between himself and the recipient. -</p> - -<p> -While Charles continues to pass his days and nights at Fontainebleau, in -the alternations of distrust and confidence, we have endeavored to -describe, while he schemes, intrigues, burrows underground, promises, -retracts, and promises anew, let us cast a glance upon the Grand-Nesle, -and see if anything of interest is occurring among those of its -occupants who have remained there. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap07_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>VII -<br /><br /> -THE GHOSTLY MONK</h4> - -<p> -The whole colony was in a state of intense excitement. The ghost of the -monk, the unsubstantial guest of the convent, upon the ruins of which -Amaury's palace was built, had returned within three or four days. Dame -Perrine had seen him walking around at night in the gardens of the -Grand-Nesle, clad in his long white frock, and treading so lightly that -he left no footprints on the ground, and made no noise. -</p> - -<p> -How happened it that Dame Perrine, whose domicile was the Petit-Nesle, -had seen the ghostly visitor walking in the garden of the Grand-Nesle at -three o'clock in the morning? We cannot tell except by committing a very -grave indiscretion, but we are historians first of all, and our readers -are entitled to know the most secret details of the lives of the -characters we have brought upon the stage, especially when those details -are calculated to throw a bright light upon the sequel of our narrative. -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine, by virtue of Colombe's disappearance, by the retirement of -Pulchérie, for whose presence there was no further pretext, and by the -departure of the provost, was left absolute mistress of the Petit-Nesle; -for the gardener Raimbault and his assistants were, for economical -reasons, engaged in Messire d'Estourville's service during the day only. -Dame Perrine found herself, therefore, queen of the Petit-Nesle, but at -the same time a solitary queen, so that she nearly died of ennui during -the day, and of fear at night. -</p> - -<p> -It occurred to her that there was a remedy for this unfortunate -condition of affairs, during the day at least; her friendly relations -with Dame Ruperta opened the doors of the Grand-Nesle to her. She asked -permission to visit her neighbors, and it was most cordially granted. -</p> - -<p> -But upon availing herself of this permission Dame Perrine was naturally -brought in contact with her neighbors of the other sex. Dame Perrine was -a buxom creature of thirty-six years, who confessed to twenty-nine of -them. Plump and rosy still, and always prepossessing, her coming was -quite an event in the studio, where ten or twelve worthy fellows were -forging, cutting, filing, hammering, chiselling,—good livers all, -fond of play on Sundays, of wine on Sundays and holidays, and of the fair -sex all the time. Three of our old acquaintances, after three or four days -had passed, were all brought down with the same arrow. -</p> - -<p> -They were little Jehan, Simon-le-Gaucher, and Hermann the German. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, Jacques Aubry, and Pagolo escaped the charm, having their minds -on other things. -</p> - -<p> -The other comrades may well have felt some sparks of this Greek fire, -but they realized their inferior position, no doubt, and poured the -water of their humility upon the first sparks before they became a -conflagration. -</p> - -<p> -Little Jehan loved after the manner of Cherubino, that is to say, he was -in love with loving. Dame Perrine, as the reader will readily -understand, had too much common sense to respond to such an <i>ignis -fatuus</i> as that. -</p> - -<p> -Simon-le-Gaucher could offer more reliable future prospects, and his -flame promised to be more enduring, but Dame Perrine was a very -superstitious person. She had seen Simon cross himself with his left -hand, and she reflected that it would be necessary for him to sign the -marriage contract with his left hand. Dame Perrine was convinced that -the sign of the cross executed with the left hand was calculated to -destroy rather than to save a soul, and in like manner no one could have -persuaded her that a marriage contract signed with the left hand could -have any other result than an unhappy menage. She therefore, but without -disclosing the reasons for her repugnance, received Simon-le-Gaucher's -first advances in a way to make him renounce all hope. -</p> - -<p> -Hermann remained. Ah, Hermann! that was a different matter. -</p> - -<p> -Hermann Was no coxcomb, like little Jehan, nor a man with the seal of -Nature's displeasure upon him, like left-handed Simon; in Hermann's -personality there was something honest and outspoken which appealed to -Dame Perrine's heart. Moreover, Hermann, instead of having a left hand -for the right and vice versa, made use of either or both so -energetically that he seemed to have two right hands. He was a -magnificent man too, according to all vulgar ideas. Dame Perrine -therefore had fixed her choice upon Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -But, as we know, Hermann was as innocent as Celadon. The result was that -Dame Perrine's first broadsides, the pouting and sighs and sidelong -glances, were utterly powerless against the naïve timidity of the -honest German. He contented himself with staring at Dame Perrine out of -his great round eyes; but, like the blind men of the Gospel, "eyes had -he, but he saw not," or if he did see, he saw the buxom governess as a -whole simply, without noting details. Dame Perrine repeatedly proposed -that they should go for a walk on the Quai des Augustins, or in the gardens -of the Grand—or Petit-Nesle, and on every occasion she selected -Hermann for her cavalier. This made Hermann very happy internally. His -great Teutonic heart beat five or six extra pulsations a minute when -Dame Perrine was hanging upon his arm; but either because he found some -difficulty in pronouncing the French language, or because it gave him -greater pleasure to hear the object of his secret thoughts talk, Dame -Perrine could rarely extract anything more from him than these two -sacramental phrases, "Ponchour, matemoizelle," and "Atieu, -matemoizelle," which Hermann generally pronounced at an interval of two -hours; the first when Dame Perrine took his arm, the second when she let -it go. Now, although this title of Mademoiselle was immensely flattering -to Dame Perrine, and although there was something very agreeable in -talking two hours without fear of interruption, she would have been glad -to have her monologue broken in upon by an occasional interjection which -might give her some idea of the progress she was making in the heart of -her mute attendant. -</p> - -<p> -Her progress, however, was none the less real for not being expressed in -words or by play of feature; the fire was kindled in the honest German's -heart, and, being fanned every day by Dame Perrine's presence, became a -veritable volcano. Hermann began at last to be conscious of the -preference Dame Perrine accorded him, and he was only waiting until he -was a little more certain of it to declare himself. Dame Perrine -understood his hesitation. One evening, as he parted from her at the -door of the Petit-Nesle, she saw that he was so agitated that she -thought it would be a real kindness on her part to press his hand. -Hermann, transported with delight, responded by a similar demonstration; -but to his great amazement Dame Perrine gave a piercing shriek. In his -delirious bliss, Hermann did not measure his pressure. He thought that -the tighter he squeezed her hand, the more accurate idea he would convey -of the violence of his passion; and he very nearly crushed the poor -governess's fingers. -</p> - -<p> -Hermann was thunderstruck by her shriek; but Dame Perrine, fearing to -discourage him just as he had summoned up courage to make his first -advance, forced herself to smile, and said, as she separated her -fingers, which were almost glued together for the moment:— -</p> - -<p> -"It's nothing, nothing, dear Monsieur Hermann; it's nothing, absolutely -nothing." -</p> - -<p> -"Tausend pardons, Matemoizelle Perrine," said the German, "but I lofe -you sehr viel, and I haf pressed your hant as I lofe you! Tausend -pardons!" -</p> - -<p> -"There's no need, Monsieur Hermann, there's no need. Your love is an -honorable love, I trust, which a woman need not blush to win." -</p> - -<p> -"O Tieu! O Tieu!" cried Hermann, "indeed, my lofe is honorable, -Matemoizelle Perrine; put I haf not yet tared to speak to you of it; put -since die wort haf escaped me, I lofe you, I lofe you, I lofe you sehr -viel, Matemoizelle Perrine." -</p> - -<p> -"And I, Monsieur Hermann," said Dame Perrine mincingly, "think I can -say, for I believe you to be a gallant youth, incapable of compromising -a poor woman, that—Mon Dieu! how shall I say it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh say it! say it!" cried Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -"Well! that—ah, it is wrong of me to confess it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Nein, nein! it is not wrong. Say it! say it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Very well. I confess that I am not indifferent to your passion." -</p> - -<p> -"Sacrement!" cried the German, beside himself with joy. -</p> - -<p> -Now one evening when, after a promenade, the Juliet of the Petit-Nesle -had escorted her Romeo to the door of the Grand-Nesle, she espied as she -was returning alone through the garden door, the white spectre we have -mentioned, which, in the opinion of the worthy governess, could be no -other than that of the monk. It is needless to say that Dame Perrine -entered the house half dead with fear, and barricaded herself in her -room. -</p> - -<p> -The next morning the whole studio was acquainted with the story of the -nocturnal apparition. Dame Perrine, however, contented herself with -relating the simple fact without going into details. The ghostly monk -had appeared. That was the whole of it. It was useless to question her, -for she would say nothing more. -</p> - -<p> -All that day the ghostly monk was the engrossing subject of conversation -at the Grand-Nesle. Some believed in the appearance of the phantom, -others laughed at it. It was noticed that Ascanio was the leader of the -sceptics, the others being little Jehan, Simon-le-Gaucher, and Jacques -Aubry. The faction of the believers included Dame Ruperta, Scozzone, -Pagolo, and Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -In the evening they all assembled in the second courtyard of the -Petit-Nesle. Dame Perrine, when questioned in the morning as to the -origin of the legend of the ghostly monk, requested that she might have -the day to refresh her memory, and when night came she announced that -she was ready to relate the awful story. Dame Perrine was as knowing in -the matter of stage effects as a modern dramatist, and she knew that a -ghost story loses all its effect if told in the sunlight, while, on the -other hand, that effect is doubled if it is told in the dark. -</p> - -<p> -Her audience consisted of Hermann, who sat at her right, Dame Ruperta, -who sat at her left, Pagolo and Scozzone, who sat side by side, and -Jacques Aubry, who lay on the grass between his two friends, little -Jehan and Simon-le-Gaucher. Ascanio had declared that he held such old -women's tales in utter contempt, and would not even listen to them. -</p> - -<p> -"Unt zo, Matemoizelle Perrine," said Hermann after a moment of silence, -while each one arranged his posture so as to listen at ease, "unt zo you -are going to tell us the story of the monk's ghost?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Dame Perrine, "yes; but I ought to warn you that it's a -terrible story, and perhaps not a very comfortable one to listen to at -this hour; but as we are all devout persons, although there may be some -sceptics among us on the subject of ghosts, and as Monsieur Hermann is -strong enough to put Satan himself to flight if he should make his -appearance, I will venture to tell you the story." -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon, pardon, Matemoizelle Perrine, put if Satan comes I must tell -you not to count on me; I will fight mit men, ja, all you choose, put -not mit der Teufel." -</p> - -<p> -"Never mind! I will fight him if he comes, Dame Perrine," said Jacques -Aubry. "Go on, and don't be afraid." -</p> - -<p> -"Is there a charcoal-purner in your story, Matemoizelle Perrine?" -queried Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -"A charcoal-burner? No, Monsieur Hermann." -</p> - -<p> -"All right; it's all the same." -</p> - -<p> -"Why a charcoal-burner?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because in all the Cherman stories there is a charcoal-purner. Put -never mind, it must be a fine story all the same. Go on, Matemoizelle -Perrine." -</p> - -<p> -"You must know, then," began Dame Perrine, "that there was formerly on -this spot where we now sit, and before the Hôtel de Nesle was built, a -community of monks, composed of the handsomest men ever seen, the -shortest of whom was as tall as Monsieur Hermann." -</p> - -<p> -"Peste! what a community that must have been!" cried Jacques Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"Be quiet, babbler!" said Scozzone. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, be quiet, pappler!" echoed Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll be quiet, I'll be quiet," said the student; "go on, Dame Perrine." -</p> - -<p> -"The prior, whose name was Enguerrand, was a particularly fine specimen. -They all had glossy black beards, with black and gleaming eyes; but the -prior had the blackest beard and the brightest eyes of all. Moreover the -worthy brethren were devout and austere in their devotion to an -unparalleled degree, and their voices were so melodious and sweet that -people came from leagues around simply to hear them sing the vesper -service. At least so I have been told." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh the poor monks!" said Ruperta. -</p> - -<p> -"It's extremely interesting," said Jacques Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"Es ist sehr wunderbar," said Hermann. -</p> - -<p> -"One day," pursued Dame Perrine, flattered by the marks of appreciation -evoked by her narrative, "a handsome young man was brought before the -prior, who requested to be admitted to the convent as a novice; he had -no beard as yet, but he had large eyes as black as ebony, and long dark -hair with a glossy shimmer like jet, so that he was admitted without -hesitation. He said that his name was Antonio, and requested to be -attached to the personal service of the prior, a request which was -granted without hesitation. I spoke of voices just now, but Antonio's was -the fresh and melodious voice <i>par excellence</i>. Everybody who heard -him sing on the following Sunday was carried away by it, and yet there -was a something in the voice which distressed even while it fascinated -you, a quality which aroused worldly rather than celestial ideas in the -hearts of those who listened to it; but all the monks were so pure of -heart that none but strangers experienced this singular emotion, and Don -Enguerrand, who was utterly unconscious of anything of the sort, was so -enchanted with Antonio's voice that he appointed him thenceforth to sing -the responses in the anthems alone, alternately with the organ. -</p> - -<p> -"The conduct of the young novice was most exemplary, and he waited upon -the prior with incredible zeal and earnestness. The only thing for which -he could possibly be reproved was his constant fits of distraction from -his devotions; always and everywhere his glowing eyes were fastened upon -the prior. -</p> - -<p> -"'What are you looking at, Antonio?' Don Enguerrand would say to him. -</p> - -<p> -"'I am looking at you, my father,' would be the reply. -</p> - -<p> -"'Look at your prayer-book, Antonio. Now what are you looking at?' -</p> - -<p> -"'You, my father.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Antonio, look at the image of the Virgin. What are you looking at -now?' -</p> - -<p> -"'You, my father.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Antonio, look at the crucifix which we adore.' -</p> - -<p> -"Don Enguerrand began to notice, after a time, upon searching his -conscience, that since Antonio's reception into the community he had -been more troubled than formerly by evil thoughts. Never before had he -sinned more than seven times a day, which, as we all know, is the -reckoning of the saints,—sometimes even he had examined his conduct -for the day without being able to find more than five or six sins, an -extraordinary thing. But now the total of his daily peccadillos mounted -as high as ten, twelve, or even fifteen. He would try to make up for it -on the following day; he would pray and fast and scourge himself, would -the worthy man. Ah! but the farther he went, the greater became the -reckoning, until at last it reached a full score. Poor Don Enguerrand -knew not which way to turn; he felt that he was damned in spite of all -he could do, and he noticed—an observation which might have comforted -another, but which increased his consternation—that his most austere -monks were under the same strange, incredible, incomprehensible -influence; so that their confession, which formerly lasted twenty -minutes, half an hour, or an hour at most, now occupied several hours. -</p> - -<p> -"About this time, an occurrence which had been creating a great stir in -the province for a month past at last became known at the convent. The -lord of a castle near by had lost his daughter Antonia. Antonia had -disappeared one fine evening exactly as my poor Colombe has disappeared. -But there is this difference: I am sure that Colombe is an angel, while -it seems that Antonia was possessed of the devil. The poor father had -sought the fugitive high and low, just as Monsieur le Prévôt has -sought Colombe. Only the convent remained to be visited, and as he knew -that the evil spirit, the better to elude search, sometimes conceals -himself in monasteries, he sent his chaplain to Don Enguerrand to ask -permission to make search in his. The prior assented, with the best -possible grace. Perhaps, he thought, he might by means of this visit -discover something concerning the magic influence which had been -weighing upon him and his brethren for a month past. But no! the search -had no result whatever, and the nobleman was about to retire more -despairing than ever, when all the monks passed in procession before him -and Don Enguerrand, on their way to the chapel for the evening service. -He looked at them mechanically, one after another, until the last one -passed, when he cried out:— -</p> - -<p> -"'God in heaven! that is Antonia! that is my daughter!' -</p> - -<p> -"Antonia, for it was she, became as pale as a lily. -</p> - -<p> -"'What are you doing in this sacred garb?' continued the father. -</p> - -<p> -"'What am I doing, father?' said Antonia; 'I am loving Don Enguerrand -with all my heart.' -</p> - -<p> -"'Leave this convent instantly, wretched girl!' cried her father. -</p> - -<p> -"'I will go out only as a corpse, father,' replied Antonia. -</p> - -<p> -"Thereupon, despite her father's outcries, she darted into the chapel on -the heels of the monks, and took her place in her accustomed stall. The -prior stood as if turned to stone. The furious nobleman would have -pursued his daughter, but Don Enguerrand begged him not to profane the -holy place by such a scandalous scene, and to wait until the service was -at an end. The father consented, and followed Don Enguerrand into the -chapel. -</p> - -<p> -"The anthem was about to be chanted, and the majestic prelude upon the -organ was like the voice of God. A wonderfully beautiful strain, but -instinct with bitter irony, and awful to bear, responded to the sublime -tones of the instrument; it was Antonia's voice, and every listening -heart shuddered. The organ took up the chant, calm, grave, impressive, -and seemed as if it were seeking to drown with its divine magnificence -the bitter strains which insulted it from the stalls. Again, as if in -acceptance of the challenge, Antonia's voice arose more wildly -despairing, more impious, than before. Everybody awaited in speechless -dismay the result of this awful dialogue, this alternation of blasphemy -and prayer, this strange conflict between God and Satan, and it was amid -the most intense and agonizing silence that the celestial music burst -forth like a peal of thunder, when the blasphemous strain died away, and -poured out upon the heads of the listeners, all bowed save one, the -torrents of its wrath. It was something like the dread voice which the -guilty will hear on the judgment day. Antonia tried to keep up the -contest, but her song this time was nothing more than a shrill, -heart-rending cry, like the laugh fit the damned, and she fell pale and -stiff upon the pavement of the chapel. When they raised her, she was -dead." -</p> - -<p> -"Jésus Maria!" cried Dame Ruperta. -</p> - -<p> -"Poor Antonia!" said Hermann innocently. -</p> - -<p> -"Little fool!" muttered Jacques Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -The others kept silence, so great was the impression produced even upon -the sceptics by Dame Perrine's narrative, but Scozzone wiped away a -tear, and Pagolo crossed himself. -</p> - -<p> -"When the prior," resumed Dame Perrine, "saw the devil's messenger thus -crushed by the wrath of God, he believed, poor dear man, that he was -forever delivered from the snares of the tempter; but he reckoned -without his host, a very appropriate expression, as he had been so -imprudent as to extend his hospitality to one possessed of the devil. On -the following night, just after he had dropped off to sleep, he was -awakened by the clanking of chains; he opened his eyes, instinctively -turned them toward the door, and saw that it swung open unaided, and at -the same time a phantom clad in the white robe of a novice drew near the -bed, took him by the arm, and cried, 'I am Antonia! Antonia, who loves -thee! and God has given me full power over thee because thou hast -sinned, in thought if not in act.' And every night at midnight the -terrible apparition returned, implacably true to its word, until at last -Don Enguerrand made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and died, by the -special favor of God, just as he knelt before the Holy Sepulchre. -</p> - -<p> -"But Antonia was not satisfied. She fell back upon all the monks in -general, and, as there were very few who had not sinned as deeply as the -poor prior, she visited them all one after another during the night, -roughly awaking them, and crying in an awe-inspiring voice: 'I am -Antonia! I am Antonia, who loves thee!' -</p> - -<p> -"Hence the name of the ghostly monk. -</p> - -<p> -"When you are walking through the streets at night, and a figure with a -gray or white hood dogs your steps, hasten home; it is the ghostly monk -in quest of prey. -</p> - -<p> -"When the convent was demolished to make room for the château, they -hoped to be rid of the spectre, but it seems that he is fond of the -spot. At various times he has reappeared. And now, God forgive us our -sins! the unhappy wretch has appeared again. May God preserve us from -his wicked designs!" -</p> - -<p> -"Amen!" said Dame Ruperta, crossing herself. -</p> - -<p> -"Amen!" said Hermann, with a shudder. -</p> - -<p> -"Amen!" said Jacques Aubry, laughing. -</p> - -<p> -And each of the others repeated the word with an inflection -corresponding to the impression produced upon him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap08_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>VIII -<br /><br /> -WHAT ONE SEES AT NIGHT FROM THE TOP OF A<br /> -POPLAR</h4> - -<p> -On the following day, which was that on which the whole court was to -return from Fontainebleau, it was Dame Ruperta's turn to announce to the -same auditory that she had a momentous revelation to make. -</p> - -<p> -As may be imagined, after such an interesting announcement, the whole -party assembled once more in the same spot at the same hour. -</p> - -<p> -They were entirely at their ease, because Benvenuto had written to -Ascanio that he should stay behind for two or three days to prepare the -hall where his Jupiter was to be displayed, which Jupiter was to be cast -immediately upon his return. -</p> - -<p> -The provost had simply made his appearance at the Hôtel de Nesle to ask -if there was any news of Colombe; but upon being informed by Dame -Perrine that everything was <i>in statu quo</i>, he at once returned to -the Châtelet. -</p> - -<p> -The occupants of the Grand and Petit-Nesle enjoyed entire freedom of -action, therefore, both masters being absent. -</p> - -<p> -In the ease of Jacques Aubry, although he was to have met Gervaise that -evening, curiosity carried the day over love, or rather he hoped that -Dame Ruperta would be less diffuse than Dame Perrine, and that she would -have finished so early that he might hear her story and still keep his -appointment. -</p> - -<p> -This is what Ruperta had to tell. -</p> - -<p> -Dame Perrine's narrative ran in her head all night long, and from the -moment that she entered her bedroom she trembled in every limb lest -Antonia's spirit should pay her a visit, notwithstanding the blessed -relics which hung about her bed. -</p> - -<p> -She barricaded her door, but that was a very inadequate precaution; the -old servant was too well versed in the ways of phantoms not to be aware -that they know nothing of closed doors. Nevertheless she would have -liked also to barricade the window looking upon the garden of the -Grand-Nesle, but the original proprietor had neglected to provide the -window with shutters, and the present proprietor deemed it useless to -burden himself with that expense. -</p> - -<p> -Ordinarily there were curtains at the window; but at this time, as luck -would have it, they were at the laundry. The window offered no -protection, therefore, save an unpretentious pane of glass, as -transparent as the air that it excluded. -</p> - -<p> -On entering the room Ruperta looked under the bed, felt in all the -drawers and closets, and did not leave a single corner uninspected. She -knew that the devil occupies but little space when he draws in his tail -and claws and horns, and that Asmodeus was corked up in a bottle for -nobody knows how many years. -</p> - -<p> -The room was entirely untenanted, and there was not the slightest trace -of the ghostly monk. -</p> - -<p> -Ruperta went to bed therefore somewhat more at ease, but she left her -lamp burning none the less. She was no sooner in bed than she looked -toward the window, and saw outside the window a gigantic figure, whose -outlines were just discernible in the darkness, and which intercepted -the light of the stars. The moon was invisible as it was in its last -quarter. -</p> - -<p> -Good Ruperta shivered with fear; she was on the point of crying out or -knocking, when she remembered the colossal statue of Mars which reared -its head before her window. She immediately looked again in that -direction, and recognized perfectly all the outlines of the god of war. -This reassured Ruperta for the moment, and she determined positively to -go to sleep. -</p> - -<p> -But sleep, the poor man's treasure so often coveted by the rich, is at -no man's orders. At night God opens heaven's gates for him, and the -capricious rascal visits whom he pleases, turning aside disdainfully -from him who calls, and knocking at their doors who least expect him. -Ruperta invoked him long before he paid heed to her. -</p> - -<p> -At last, toward midnight, fatigue won the day. Little by little, the -good woman's faculties became confused, her thoughts which were in -general but ill connected, broke the imperceptible thread which held -them, and scattered like the beads of a rosary. Her heart alone, -distraught by fear, was still awake; at last it too fell fast asleep, -and all was said; the lamp alone kept vigil. -</p> - -<p> -But, like all things of earth, the lamp found rest two hours after -Ruperta had closed her eyes in the sleep of the just. Upon the pretext -that it had no oil to burn, it began to grow dim, sputtered, blazed up -for an instant, and then died. -</p> - -<p> -Just at that time Ruperta had a fearful dream; she dreamed that, as she -was returning home from visiting Perrine, the ghostly monk pursued her; -but happily, against all precedents of those who dream, Ruperta to her -joy found that she had the legs of fifteen years, and fled so swiftly -that the ghostly monk, although he seemed to glide and not to run over -the ground, only arrived in time to have the door slammed in his face. -Ruperta thought, still dreaming, that she heard him snarl and pound upon -the door. But, as may be imagined, she was in no haste to let him in. -She lit her lamp, ran up the stairs four at a time, jumped into bed, and -put out the light. -</p> - -<p> -But, just as she put out the light, she saw the monk's head outside her -window; he had crawled up the wall like a lizard, and was trying to come -through the glass. In her dream, she heard the grinding of his nails -against it. -</p> - -<p> -He sleep can be so sound as to hold out against a dream of that sort. -Ruperta awoke with her hair standing on end, and dripping with icy -perspiration. Her eyes were open, staring wildly around, and in spite of -her they sought the window. With that she uttered a fearful shriek, for -this is what she saw. -</p> - -<p> -She saw the head of the colossal Mars shooting forth flame from its eyes -and nose and mouth and ears. -</p> - -<p> -She thought at first that she was still asleep, and that it was a -continuation of her dream; but she pinched herself till the blood came -to make sure that she was really awake; she crossed herself, and -repeated mentally three <i>Paters</i> and two <i>Aves</i>, and the -extraordinary phenomena did not disappear. -</p> - -<p> -Ruperta summoned strength enough to put out her hand, seize her broom, -and pound against the ceiling with the handle thereof. Hermann slept in -the room above hers, and she hoped that the sturdy Teuton would be -aroused and hurry to her assistance. But in vain did Ruperta knock: -Hermann gave no sign of life. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon she changed the direction of her blows, and, instead of -knocking on the ceiling to arouse Hermann, began to knock on the floor -to arouse Pagolo, who slept in the room below. -</p> - -<p> -But Pagolo was as deaf as Hermann, and Ruperta pounded to no purpose. -</p> - -<p> -She then abandoned the vertical for the horizontal line. Ascanio was her -neighbor, and she knocked on the partition with her broom-handle. -</p> - -<p> -But all was silence in Ascanio's quarters, as in those of Hermann and -Pagolo. It was evident that neither of the three was at home. In an -instant it occurred to Ruperta that the monk had carried off all three -of them. -</p> - -<p> -As there was little consolation in this idea, Ruperta's terror waxed -greater and greater, and, as she was certain that no one would come to -her assistance, she thrust her head beneath the bedclothes and waited. -</p> - -<p> -She waited an hour, an hour and a half, two hours perhaps, and as she -heard no noise, she regained her courage in a measure, softly removed -the sheet from her head, and ventured to look with one eye, then with -both. The vision had disappeared. The head of Mars had gone out, and all -was dark once more. -</p> - -<p> -Although the silence and darkness were calculated to set her mind at -rest, it will readily be understood that Dame Ruperta and slumber were -at odds for the balance of the night. The poor woman lay, with her ear -on the alert and both eyes wide open, until the first rays of dawn -reflected on her window announced that the time for ghosts to walk had -passed. -</p> - -<p> -Now this is what Ruperta had to tell, and it must be said in her honor -that her narrative produced an even deeper impression than that of the -preceding night; its effect upon Dame Perrine and Hermann, Scozzone and -Pagolo, was particularly noticeable. The two men essayed to make excuses -for not hearing Ruperta, but their voices trembled so, and their -embarrassment was so great, that Jacques Aubry roared with laughter. -Dame Perrine and Scozzone, on the other hand, did not breathe a word. -They turned red and pale by turns, so that, if it had been daylight and -you could have followed upon their faces the reflection of what was -taking place in their minds, you would have believed them at the point -of death from apoplexy, and again from inanition, all within ten -seconds. -</p> - -<p> -"And so, Dame Perrrine," said Scozzone, who was the first to recover her -self-possession, "you claim to have seen the monk's ghost walking in the -garden of the Grand-Nesle?" -</p> - -<p> -"As plainly as I see you, my child," was Dame Perrrine's reply. -</p> - -<p> -"And you, Ruperta, saw the head of the Mars on fire?" -</p> - -<p> -"I can see it still." -</p> - -<p> -"Look you," said Dame Perrine, "the accursed ghost must have chosen the -head of the statue for his domicile; and as a ghost must of course take -a little exercise now and then like a natural being, he comes down at -certain hours, walks hither and thither, and when he's tired goes back -into the head. Idols and spirits, you see, understand one another, like -thieves on market day; they live in hell together, and this horrible -false god Mars naturally enough offers his hospitality to the infernal -monk." -</p> - -<p> -"Pelieve you zo, Dame Perrine?" queried the innocent German. -</p> - -<p> -"I am sure of it, Monsieur Hermann, sure of it." -</p> - -<p> -"It makes my flesh to greep, on my vord!" muttered Hermann with a -shudder. -</p> - -<p> -"So you believe in ghosts, Hermann?" asked Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"Ja, I do pelieve in tem." -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry shrugged his shoulders, but as he did so he determined to -solve the mystery. It was the easiest thing in the world for one who, -like himself, went in and out of the house as familiarly as if he were -one of the family. He made up his mind, therefore, that he would go and -see Gervaise the next day, but that on this evening he would remain at -the Grand-Nesle until ten o'clock; at ten o'clock he would say good -night to everybody and pretend to go away, but that he would remain -within the precincts, climb a poplar, and make the acquaintance of the -phantom from a hiding place among the branches. -</p> - -<p> -Everything fell out as the student planned. He left the studio alone as -usual, shut the door leading into the quay with a great noise to -indicate that he had gone out, then ran rapidly to the foot of the -poplar, seized the lowest branch, drew himself up to it by his wrists, -and in an instant was at the top of the tree. There he was just on a -level with the head of the statue, and overlooked both the Grand and -Petit-Nesle, so that nothing could take place in the courtyard or garden -of either unseen by him. -</p> - -<p> -While Jacques Aubry was taking up his position on his lofty perch, a -grand soirée was in progress at the Louvre, and all the windows were -ablaze with light. Charles V. had finally decided to leave -Fontainebleau, and venture within the walls of the capital, and the two -sovereigns had entered Paris that same evening. -</p> - -<p> -A gorgeous welcoming fête awaited the Emperor there. There was a -banquet, gaming, and a ball. Gondolas lighted by colored lanterns glided -up and down the Seine, laden with musicians, and made melodious pauses -in front of the famous balcony, from which, thirty years later, Charles -IX. was to fire upon his people, while boats gayly decked with flowers -conveyed from one bank of the river to the other those guests who were -on their way from the Faubourg Saint-Germain to the Louvre, or who were -returning to the Faubourg Saint-Germain. -</p> - -<p> -Among the guests the Vicomte de Marmagne was naturally included. -</p> - -<p> -As we have said, the Vicomte de Marmagne, a tall, pink-cheeked, insipid -dandy, claimed to be a great destroyer of hearts. On this occasion he -thought that a certain pretty little countess, whose husband happened to -be with the army in Savoy, cast meaning glances at him; thereupon he -danced with her, and fancied that her hand was not insensible to the -pressure he ventured to bestow upon it. And so, when he saw the fair -object of his thoughts leave the ball-room, he imagined, from the glance -she gave him as she departed, that, like Galatea, she was flying toward -the willows in the hope of being pursued. Marmagne therefore set out in -pursuit, and as she lived in the vicinity of Rue Hautefeuille his course -lay from the Louvre to the Tour de Nesle, and thence along the quay and -through Rue des Grands Augustins to Rue Saint-André. He was walking -along the quay when he heard steps behind him. -</p> - -<p> -It was about one o'clock in the morning. The moon, as we have said, was -entering her last quarter, so that the night was quite dark. Among the -rare moral qualities with which nature had endowed Marmagne, courage did -not hold a prominent position. He began therefore after a while to be -somewhat disturbed by these footsteps, which seemed to be following his -own, and quickened his gait, wrapping himself more closely than ever in -his cloak, and instinctively grasping the hilt of his sword. -</p> - -<p> -But the acceleration of speed profited him not; the steps behind -governed themselves by his, and even seemed to gain upon him, so that, -just as he passed the doorway of the church of the Augustins he realized -that he should very soon be overtaken by his fellow traveller unless he -quickened his pace still more to a racing speed. He was just about to -adopt that extreme course when the sound of a voice mingled with the -sound of the footsteps. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu! my fine sir, you do well to walk fast," said the voice, "for -this isn't a very safe place, especially at this hour; right here, you -know of course, is where my worthy friend Benvenuto was -attacked,—Benvenuto, the sublime artist, who is at Fontainebleau at -this moment, and has no suspicion of what is going on under his roof. -But as we are going in the same direction apparently, we can walk along -together, and if we meet any cut-throats they will look twice before -they attack us. I offer you therefore the safeguard of my companionship, -if you will give me the honor of yours." -</p> - -<p> -At the first word our student uttered, Marmagne knew that it was the -voice of one who wished him no ill, and at the name of Benvenuto he -remembered and recognized the garrulous law student, who had on a -previous occasion given him so much useful information concerning the -interior of the Grand-Nesle. He at once halted, and waited for master -Jacques Aubry to come up, for his society would be of advantage to him -in two ways. In the first place, he would serve as a sort of body guard, -and might in the mean while give him some fresh information concerning -his enemy, which his hatred would enable him to turn to advantage. He -therefore welcomed the student with his most agreeable manner. -</p> - -<p> -"Good evening, my young friend," he said, in reply to the familiar -harangue addressed to him by Jacques Aubry in the darkness. "What were -you saying of our good Benvenuto, whom I hoped to meet at the Louvre, -but who has remained at Fontainebleau, like the fox that he is!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, by my soul, here's luck!" cried Jacques Aubry. "What, is it you, -my dear vicomte—de—You forgot to tell me your name, or I forgot -to remember it. You come from the Louvre? Was it very lovely, very lively, -with love-making galore? We are in good luck, my gentleman, aren't we? O -you heart-breaker!" -</p> - -<p> -"Faith!" said Marmagne with a simper, "you're a sorcerer, my dear -fellow; yes, I come from the Louvre, where the king said some very -gracious things to me, and where I should still he if a certain -fascinating little countess had not signified to me that she preferred a -solitude <i>à deux</i> to all that crush. But whence come you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Whence come I?" rejoined Aubry, with a hearty laugh. "Faith! you remind -me! Poor Benvenuto! On my word, he doesn't deserve it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Pray what has happened to our dear friend?" -</p> - -<p> -"In the first place, you must know that I come from the Grand-Nesle, -where I have passed two hours clinging to the branch of a tree like any -parrot." -</p> - -<p> -"The devil! that was no very comfortable position!" -</p> - -<p> -"Never mind, never mind! I don't regret the cramp I got there, for I saw -things, my friend, I saw things—Why, simply in thinking of them I -suffocate with laughter." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke Jacques Aubry did laugh, so joyously and frankly that, -although Marmagne had as yet no idea what he was laughing at, he could -not forbear joining in the chorus. But his ignorance of the cause of the -student's amusement naturally made him the first to cease. -</p> - -<p> -"Now, my young friend, that I have been drawn on by your hilarity to -laugh in confidence," said Marmagne, "may I not know what wonderful -things they were to amuse you so? You know that I am one of Benvenuto's -faithful friends, although I have never met you at his house, as my -occupation leaves me very little time to devote to society, and that -little I prefer to devote to my mistresses rather than my friends, I -confess. But it is none the less true that whatever affects him affects -me. Dear Benvenuto! Tell me what is going on at the Grand-Nesle in his -absence? That interests me more than I can explain to you." -</p> - -<p> -"What is going on?" said Aubry. "No, no, that's a secret." -</p> - -<p> -"A secret to me!" said Marmagne. "A secret to me, who love Benvenuto so -dearly, and who this very evening outdid King François I. in eulogizing -him! Ah! that is too bad," added the viscount, with an injured -expression. -</p> - -<p> -"If I were only sure that you would mention it to nobody, my -dear—What the devil is your name, my dear friend?—I would -tell you about it, for I confess that I am as anxious to tell my story -as King Midas's reeds were to tell theirs." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell it then, tell it," said Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"You won't repeat it to anybody?" -</p> - -<p> -"To nobody, I swear!" -</p> - -<p> -"On your word of honor?" -</p> - -<p> -"On the faith of a nobleman." -</p> - -<p> -"Fancy then—But, in the first place, my dear friend, you know the -story of the monk's ghost, don't you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I've heard of it. A phantom that is said to haunt the -Grand-Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Just so. Well, well! if you know that, I can tell you the rest. Fancy -that Dame Perrine—" -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe's governess?" -</p> - -<p> -"Just so. Well, well, it's easy to see that you're a friend of the -family. Fancy then that Dame Perrine, in a nocturnal walk which she was -taking for her health, thought that she saw the ghostly monk also taking -a walk in the garden of the Grand-Nesle, while at the same time Dame -Ruperta—You know Dame Ruperta?" -</p> - -<p> -"Isn't she Cellini's old servant?" -</p> - -<p> -"Just so. While Dame Ruperta, during one of her fits of sleeplessness, -saw flames darting from the eyes, nose, and mouth of the great statue of -Mars which you have seen in the gardens of the Grand-Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, a veritable <i>chef-d'œuvre</i>!" said Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Chef-d'œuvre</i> is the word. Cellini makes nothing else. Flow, -these two respectable ladies—I speak of Dame Perrine and Dame -Ruperta—agreed between themselves that the two apparitions had the -same cause, and that the demon, who stalked abroad at night in the guise -of the ghostly monk, ascended at cock-crow into the head of the god -Mars, a fitting retreat for a lost soul like him, and was there consumed -by such fierce flames that they came out through the statue's eyes, -nose, and ears." -</p> - -<p> -"What sort of a fairy tale is this, my dear man?" said Marmagne, unable -to tell whether the student was joking or talking seriously. -</p> - -<p> -"The tale of a ghost, my friend, nothing more nor less." -</p> - -<p> -"Can it be that an intelligent fellow like you believes in such stuff?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why no, I don't believe in it," said Jacques Aubry. "That is just why I -concluded to pass the night in a poplar tree to clear up the mystery, -and find out who the demon really is who is upsetting the whole -household. So I pretended to come out, but instead of closing the door -of the Grand-Nesle behind me I closed it in front of me, glided back in -the darkness without being seen, and got safely to the poplar upon which -I had my eye: five minutes later I was snugly ensconced among the -branches on a level with Mars's head. Now guess what I saw." -</p> - -<p> -"How can I guess, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure, one must be a sorcerer to guess such things. In the first -place I saw the great door open; the door at the top of the steps, you -know?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, I know it," said Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"I saw the door open and a man put his nose out to see if there was any -one in the courtyard. It was Hermann, the fat German." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Hermann, the fat German," echoed Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"When he was fully assured that the courtyard was deserted, having -looked about everywhere, except in the tree, where, as you can imagine, -he was very far from suspecting my presence, he came out, closed the -door behind him, descended the five or six steps, and went straight to -the door of the Petit-Nesle, where he knocked three times. At that -signal a woman came out of the Petit-Nesle and opened the door. This -woman was our friend Dame Perrine, who apparently has a weakness for -walking about at night with our Goliath." -</p> - -<p> -"No, really? Oh the poor provost!" -</p> - -<p> -"Wait a moment, wait, that's not all! I was looking after them as they -went into the Petit-Nesle, when suddenly I heard the grating of a -window-sash at my left. I turned; the window opened and out came -Pagolo,—that brigand of a Pagolo!—who would have believed it -of him with all his protestations, and his Paters and Aves?—out -came Pagolo, and, after looking about as cautiously as Hermann, -straddled the windowsill, slid down the gutter, and went from balcony to -balcony until he reached the window—guess of whose room, -viscount!" -</p> - -<p> -"How can I tell? was it Dame Ruperta's?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh no! Scozzone's, nothing less! Scozzone, Benvenuto's beloved -model,—a lovely brunette, my word for it. Can you believe it of the -rascal, viscount?" -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed, it's most diverting," said Marmagne. "Is that all you saw?" -</p> - -<p> -"Wait a bit, wait a bit, my dear fellow! I have kept the best till the -last, the best morsel for the <i>bonne bouche</i>; wait a bit, we aren't -there yet, but we soon shall be, never fear!" -</p> - -<p> -"I am listening," said Marmagne. "On my honor, my dear fellow, it couldn't -be more diverting." -</p> - -<p> -"Wait a bit, I say, wait a bit. I was watching my Pagolo running from -balcony to balcony at the risk of breaking his neck, when I heard -another noise, which came almost from the foot of the tree in which I -was sitting. I looked down and saw Ascanio creeping stealthily along -from the foundry." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, Benvenuto's beloved pupil?" -</p> - -<p> -"Himself, my friend, himself. A sort of choir-boy, to whom one would -give absolution without confession. Oh yes! that comes of trusting to -appearances." -</p> - -<p> -"Why had Ascanio come out?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, that's just it! Why had he? that's what I asked myself at first, -but soon I had no occasion to ask it; for Ascanio, after having made -sure, as Hermann and Pagolo had done, that nobody could see him, took -from the foundry a long ladder, which he rested against the shoulders of -Mars, and up he climbed. As the ladder was on the opposite side from -myself, I lost sight of him as he went up, and was just wondering what -had become of him when I saw a light in the eyes of the statue." -</p> - -<p> -"What's that you say?" cried Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"The exact truth, my friend, and I confess that, if it had happened -without any knowledge on my part of what had happened previously, I -should not have been altogether at my ease. But I had seen Ascanio -disappear, and I suspected that the light was caused by him." -</p> - -<p> -"But what was Ascanio doing at that hour in the head of the god Mars?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! that is just the question I asked myself, and as there was no one -to answer me I determined to find out for myself. I gazed with all my -eyes, and succeeded in discovering, through those of the statue, a -ghost, i' faith! yes, dressed all in white; the ghost of a woman, at -whose feet Ascanio was kneeling as respectfully as before a Madonna. -Unfortunately, the Madonna's back was turned to me, and I could not see -her face, but I saw her neck. Oh what lovely necks ghosts have, my dear -viscount! Imagine a perfect swan's neck, white as snow. And Ascanio was -gazing at it, the impious varlet! with a degree of adoration which -convinced me that the ghost was a woman. What do you say to that, my -dear fellow? Gad! it's a neat trick, eh? to conceal one's mistress in -the head of a statue." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, it's most ingenious," rejoined Marmagne, laughing and -reflecting at the same time; "very ingenious, in good sooth. And you -have no suspicion who the woman can be?" -</p> - -<p> -"Upon my honor, I have no idea. And you?" -</p> - -<p> -"No more than you. What did you do, pray, when you saw all this?" -</p> - -<p> -"What did I do? I laughed so that I lost my balance, and if I hadn't -caught on a branch I should have broken my neck. As there was nothing -more to see, and I had fallen half-way to the ground, I climbed down the -rest of the way, crept to the door, and was on my way home, still -laughing all by myself, when I met you, and you compelled me to tell you -the story. Now, give me your advice, as you are of Benvenuto's friends. -What must I do about telling him? As for Dame Perrine, that doesn't -concern him; the dear woman is of age, and consequently mistress of her -actions; but as to Scozzone, and the Venus who lodges in the head of -Mars, it's a different matter." -</p> - -<p> -"And you want me to advise you as to what you ought to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I do indeed! I am much perplexed, my dear—my dear—I -always forget your name." -</p> - -<p> -"My advice is to say nothing to him. So much the worse for those who are -foolish enough to allow themselves to be deceived. I am obliged to you, -Master Jacques Aubry, for your company and your agreeable conversation; -but here we are at Rue Hautefeuille, and to return confidence for -confidence, this is where my charmer dwells." -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, my dear, my excellent friend," said Jacques Aubry, pressing the -viscount's hand. "Your advice is good and I will follow it. Good luck, -and may Cupid watch over you!" -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon they parted, Marmagne taking Rue Hautefeuille, and Jacques -Aubry Rue Poupée, on his way to Rue de la Harpe, at the far end of -which he had taken up his abode. -</p> - -<p> -The viscount lied to the unlucky student when he declared that he had no -suspicion as to the identity of the female demon whom Ascanio adored on -his knees. His first thought was that the inhabitant of Mars was no -other than Colombe, and the more he reflected upon it, the more firmly -convinced he became. As we have said, Marmagne was equally ill disposed -toward the provost, D'Orbec, and Cellini, and he found himself in a very -awkward position as regarded the gratification of his ill will, for he -could not inflict suffering upon one without giving pleasure to the -others. If he held his peace, D'Orbec and the provost would remain in -their present embarrassed plight; but Benvenuto would likewise continue -in his present joyous frame of mind. If, on the other hand, he disclosed -what he had learned, Benvenuto would be in despair, but the provost -would recover his child, D'Orbec his betrothed. He determined, -therefore, to turn the thing over in his mind until it should be made -clear to him what was the most advantageous course for him to follow. -</p> - -<p> -His indecision did not long endure; without knowing the real motive for -her interest, he was aware that Madame d'Etampes was deeply interested -in the marriage of Comte d'Orbec with Colombe. He thought that, by -revealing his secret to the duchess, he might gain sufficient credit for -perspicacity to make up for what he had lost in the matter of courage; -he resolved, therefore, to appear at her morning reception on the -following day, and tell her everything. Having formed that resolution, -he punctually put it in execution. -</p> - -<p> -By one of those fortunate chances which sometimes serve the purpose of -evil deeds so well, all the courtiers were at the Louvre, paying court -to François I. and the Emperor, and there was nobody at Madame -d'Etampes's reception save her two faithful servants, the provost and -Comte d'Orbec, when the Vicomte de Marmagne was announced. -</p> - -<p> -The viscount respectfully saluted the duchess, who acknowledged his -salutation with one of those smiles which belonged to her alone, and in -which she could express pride, condescension, and disdain all at the -same time. But Marmagne did not worry about this smile, with which he -was well acquainted from having seen it upon the duchess's lips not only -for his own benefit, but for the benefit of many another. He knew -moreover that he possessed a certain means of transforming that smile of -contempt into a smile of good will by a single word. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! Messire d'Estourville," he said, turning to the provost, "so the -prodigal child has returned?" -</p> - -<p> -"Still the same pleasantry, Viscount!" cried Messire d'Estourville with -a threatening gesture, and flushing with anger. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh don't lose your temper, my good friend, don't lose your temper!" -returned Marmagne; "I tell you this, because, if you haven't yet found -your vanished dove, I know where she has built her nest." -</p> - -<p> -"You do?" cried the duchess, in the most charmingly friendly way. -"Where is it, pray? Tell me quickly, I beg, my dear Marmagne?" -</p> - -<p> -"In the head of the statue of Mars, which Benvenuto has modelled in the -garden of the Grand-Nesle." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap09_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>IX -<br /><br /> -MARS AND VENUS</h4> - -<p> -The reader will doubtless have guessed the truth, no less accurately -than Marmagne, strange as it may have appeared at first glance. The head -of the colossus was Colombe's place of retreat. Mars furnished -apartments for Venus, as Jacques Aubry said. For the second time -Benvenuto gave his handiwork a part to play in his life, summoned the -artist to the assistance of the man, and embodied his fate in his -statues as well as his thought and his genius. He had on an earlier -occasion concealed his means of escape in one of his figures; he was now -concealing Colombe's freedom and Ascanio's happiness in another. -</p> - -<p> -But, having reached this point in our narrative, it becomes necessary -for greater clearness to retrace our steps a moment. -</p> - -<p> -When Cellini finished the story of Stefana, there was a brief pause. -Benvenuto saw, among the phantoms which stood out vividly in his -painful, obtrusive memories of the past, the melancholy, but serene -features of Stefana, twenty years dead. Ascanio, with head bent forward, -was trying to recall the pale face of the woman who had leaned over his -cradle and often awoke him in his infancy, while the tears fell from her -sad eyes upon his chubby cheeks. Colombe was gazing with deep emotion at -Benvenuto, whom another woman, young and pure like herself, had loved so -dearly: at that moment his voice seemed to her almost as soft as -Ascanio's, and between the two, both of whom loved her devotedly, she -felt instinctively that she was as safe as a child could be upon its -mother's knee. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was the first to break the silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Well!" he said, "will Colombe trust herself to the man to whom Stefana -intrusted Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are my father, he my brother," replied Colombe, giving a hand to -each of them with modest grace and dignity, "and I place myself blindly -in your hands to keep me for my husband." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks," said Ascanio, "thanks, my beloved, for your trust in him." -</p> - -<p> -"You promise to obey me in everything, Colombe?" said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"In everything." -</p> - -<p> -"Then listen, my children. I have always been convinced that man could -do what he would, but only with the assistance of God on high and time -here below. To save you from Comte d'Orbec and infamy, and to give you -to my Ascanio, I must have time, Colombe, and in a very few days you are -to be the count's wife. First of all then the essential thing is to -delay this unholy union, is it not, Colombe, my sister, my child, my -daughter? There are times in this sad life when it is necessary to do -wrong in order to prevent a crime. Will you be courageous and resolute? -Will your love, which is so pure and devoted, be brave and strong as -well? Tell me." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio will answer for me," said Colombe, with a smile, turning to the -youth. "It is his right to dispose of me." -</p> - -<p> -"Have no fear, master: Colombe will be brave," said Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"In that case, Colombe, will you, trusting in our loyalty and your own -innocence, boldly leave this house and go with us?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio started in surprise. Colombe looked at them both for a moment -without speaking, then rose to her feet, and said simply,— -</p> - -<p> -"Where am I to go?" -</p> - -<p> -"O Colombe, Colombe!" cried Benvenuto, deeply moved by such absolute -trust, "you are a noble, saintly creature, and yet Stefana made me very -exacting in my ideal. Everything depended upon your reply. We are saved -now, but there isn't a moment to lose. This is the decisive hour. God -places it at our disposal, let us avail ourselves of it. Give me your -hand, Colombe, and follow me." -</p> - -<p> -The maiden lowered her veil as if to hide her blush from itself, then -followed the master and Ascanio. The door between the Grand and -Petit-Nesle was locked, but the key was in the lock. Benvenuto opened it -noiselessly. -</p> - -<p> -When they were passing through, Colombe stopped. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait a moment," she said in a voice trembling with emotion; and upon -the threshold of the house which she was leaving because it had ceased -to be a sanctuary for her, the child knelt and prayed. Her prayer -remained a secret between God and herself; but doubtless she prayed that -he would forgive her father for what she was driven to do. Then she -rose, calm and strong, and went on under the guidance of Cellini. -Ascanio with troubled heart followed them in silence, gazing fondly at -the white dress which fled before him in the shadow. They walked in -this way across the garden of the Grand-Nesle; the songs and heedless, -joyous laughter of the workmen at their supper, for it will be -remembered that it was a holiday at the château, reached the ears of -our friends, who were anxious and nervous as people ordinarily are at -supreme moments. -</p> - -<p> -When they reached the foot of the statue, Benvenuto left Colombe a -moment, went to the foundry, and reappeared, laden with a long ladder -which he leaned against the colossus. The moon, the celestial watcher, -east her pale light upon the scene. Having made sure that the ladder was -firmly fixed in its place, the master knelt upon one knee in front of -Colombe. The most touching respect softened the sternness of his -expression. -</p> - -<p> -"My child," said he, "put your arms around me, and hold fast." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe obeyed without a word, and Benvenuto lifted her as if she had -been a feather. -</p> - -<p> -"The brother," he said to Ascanio as he drew near, "must allow the -father to carry his beloved daughter." -</p> - -<p> -The powerful goldsmith, laden with the most precious of all burdens, -started up the ladder as lightly as if he were carrying nothing heavier -than a bird. As her head lay upon the master's shoulder, Colombe could -watch his manly, good-humored faee, and felt a degree of filial trust in -him which was unlike anything she had ever experienced. As to Cellini, -so powerful was the will of this man of iron, that he was able to hold -her in his arms, for whom he would have given his life two hours -earlier, with a hand that did not tremble, nor did his heart heat more -rapidly or a single one of his muscles of steel weaken for an instant. -He had ordered his heart to be calm, and his heart had obeyed. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached the neck of the statue he opened a small door, entered -the head, and deposited Colombe therein. -</p> - -<p> -The interior of this colossal head of a statue nearly sixty feet high -formed a small round room some eight feet in diameter, and ten feet -high; air and light made their way in through the openings for the eyes, -nose, mouth, and ears. This miniature apartment Benvenuto made when he -was working at the head; he used it as a receptacle for the tools he was -using, so that he need not be at the trouble of taking them up and down -five or six times a day; often too he carried up his lunch with him and -set it out upon a table which stood in the centre of this unique -dining-room, so that he had not to leave his scaffolding to take his -morning meal. This innovation which was so convenient for him, made the -place attractive to him; he followed up the table with a cot-bed, and -latterly he had formed the habit of taking his noon-day siesta in the -head of his Mars, as well as of breakfasting there. It was quite -natural, therefore, that it should occur to him to ensconce Colombe in -what was clearly the most secure hiding place of all he could offer her. -</p> - -<p> -"This is where you must remain, Colombe," said Benvenuto, "and you must -make up your mind to go down only after dark. Await here in this -retreat, under God's eye and our watchful care, the result of my -efforts. Jupiter," he added with a smile, alluding to the king's -promise, "will finish, I trust, what Mars has begun. You don't -understand, but I know what I mean. We have Olympus on our side, and you -have Paradise. How can we not succeed? Come, smile a little, Colombe, -for the future at least, if not for the present. I tell you in all -seriousness that we have ground for hope. Hope therefore with -confidence,—in God, if not in me. I have been in a sterner prison -than yours, believe me, and my hope made me indifferent to my captivity. -From now until the day that success crowns my efforts, Colombe, you will -see me no more. Your brother Ascanio, who is less suspected and less -closely watched than I am, will come to see you, and will stand guard -over you. I rely upon him to transform this workman's chamber into a -nun's cell. Now that I am about to leave you, mark well and remember my -words: you have done all that you had to do, trustful and courageous -child; the rest concerns me. We have now only to allow Providence time -to do its part, Colombe. Now listen. Whatever happens remember this: -however desperate your situation may seem to be or may really be, even -though you stand at the altar and have naught left to say but the -terrible Yes which would unite you forever to Comte d'Orbec, do not -doubt your friend, Colombe; do not doubt your father, my child; rely -upon God and upon us; I will arrive in time, I promise you. Will you -have the requisite faith and resolution? Tell me." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said the girl confidently. -</p> - -<p> -"'Tis well," said Cellini. "Adieu. I leave you now in your solitude; -when everybody is asleep, Ascanio will come and bring you what you need. -Adieu, Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -He held out his hand, but Colombe gave him her forehead to kiss as she -was accustomed to do with her father. Benvenuto started, but, passing -his hand over his eyes, he mastered the thoughts which came to his mind -and the passions which raged in his heart, and deposited upon that -spotless forehead the most paternal of kisses. -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, dear child of Stefana," he whispered, and went quickly down the -ladder to Ascanio, with whom he joined the workmen, who had finished -eating, but were drinking still. -</p> - -<p> -A new life, a strange, dream-like life, thereupon began for Colombe, and -she accommodated herself to it as she would have done to the life of a -queen. -</p> - -<p> -Let us see how the aerial chamber was furnished. It had already, as we -know, a bed and a table. Ascanio added a low velvet chair, a Venetian -mirror, a collection of religious books selected by Colombe herself, a -crucifix,—a marvellous piece of carving,—and a silver vase, -also from the master's hand, which was filled every night with fresh -flowers. There was room for nothing more in the white shell, which -contained so much of innocence and charm. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe ordinarily slept during the day. Ascanio had advised that course -for fear that, if she were awake, she might thoughtlessly do something -that would betray her presence. She awoke with the stars and the -nightingale's song, knelt upon her bed, in front of her crucifix, and -remained for some time absorbed in fervent prayer; then she made her -toilet, dressed her lovely, luxuriant hair, and sat and mused. Erelong a -ladder would be placed against the statue and Ascanio would knock at the -little door. If Colombe's toilet was completed, she would admit him and -he would remain with her until midnight. At midnight, if the weather was -fine, she would go down into the garden, and Ascanio would return to the -Grand-Nesle for a few hours' sleep, while Colombe took her nightly walk, -beginning once more the old dreams she used to dream in her favorite -path, and which seemed now more likely to be fulfilled. After about two -hours the white apparition would return to her snug retreat, where she -would wait for daylight and her bedtime, inhaling the sweet odor of the -flowers she had collected for her little nest, and listening to the -singing of the nightingales in the Petit-Nesle, and the crowing of the -cocks in the Pré-aux-Clercs. -</p> - -<p> -Just before dawn Ascanio would return to his beloved once more, bringing -her daily supply of provisions, adroitly subtracted from Dame Ruperta's -larder by virtue of Cellini's complicity. Then they would sit for a -while, conversing as only lovers can converse, evoking memories of the -past, and forming plans for the future when they should be man and wife. -Sometimes Ascanio would sit silently contemplating Colombe, and Colombe -would meet his earnest gaze with her sweet smile. Often when they parted -they had not exchanged a single word, but those were the occasions on -which they said most. Had not each of them in his or her heart all that -the other could have said, in addition to what the heart cannot say, but -God reads? -</p> - -<p> -Grief and solitude have this advantage in youth, that, while they make -the heart nobler and greater, they preserve its freshness. Colombe, a -proud, dignified maiden, was at the same time a light-hearted young -madcap: so there were days when they laughed as well as days when they -dreamed,—days when they played together like children; and, most -astonishing thing of all, those days—or nights, for, as we have seen, -the young people had inverted the order of nature—were not the ones -that passed most quickly. Love, like every other shining thing, needs a -little darkness to make its light shine the brighter. -</p> - -<p> -Never did Ascanio utter a word that could alarm the timid, innocent -child who called him brother. They were alone, and they loved each -other; but for the very reason that they were alone they were the more -conscious of the presence of God, whose heaven they saw nearer at hand, -and for the very reason that they loved each other, they respected their -love as a divinity. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as the first rays of dawn began to cast a feeble light upon the -roofs of the houses, Colombe regretfully sent her friend away, but -called him back as many times as Juliet did Romeo. One or the other had -always forgotten something of the greatest importance; however, they had -to part at last, and Colombe, up to the moment, toward noon, when she -committed her heart to God, and slept the sleep of the angels, would sit -alone, and dream, listening to the voices whispering in her heart, and -to the little birds singing under the lindens in her old garden. It goes -without saying that Ascanio always carried the ladder away with him. -</p> - -<p> -Every morning she strewed bread around the mouth of the statue for the -little birds; the bold-faced little fellows would come and seize it, and -fly quickly away again at first; but they gradually grew tame. Birds -seem to understand the hearts of young girls, who are winged like -themselves. They finally would remain for a long while, and would pay in -song for the banquet with which Colombe regaled them. There was one -audacious goldfinch who ventured within the room, and finally acquired -the habit of eating from Colombe's hand at morning and evening. When the -nights began to be a little cool, one night he allowed himself to be -taken captive by the young prisoner, who put him in her bosom, and there -he slept until morning, notwithstanding Ascanio's visit and Colombe's -nightly promenade. After that the willing captive never failed to return -at night. At daybreak he would begin to sing: Colombe would then hold -him for Ascanio to kiss, and set him at liberty. -</p> - -<p> -Thus did Colombe's days glide by in the head of the statue. Only two -things occurred to disturb the tranquillity of her existence; those two -things were the provost's domiciliary visits. Once Colombe awoke with a -start at the sound of her father's voice. It was no dream; he was down -in the garden beneath her, and Benvenuto was saying to him: "You ask -what this colossal figure is, Monsieur d'Estourville? It is the statue -of Mars, which his Majesty condescended to order for Fontainebleau. A -little bauble sixty feet high, as you see!" -</p> - -<p> -"It is of noble proportions, and very beautiful," replied D'Estourville; -"but let us go on, this is not what I am in search of." -</p> - -<p> -"No, it would be too easy to find." -</p> - -<p> -And they passed on. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe, kneeling with outstretched arms, felt an intense longing to cry -out, "Father, father, I am here!" The old man was seeking his child, -weeping for her perhaps; but the thought of Comte d'Orbec, the hateful -schemes of Madame d'Etampes, and the memory of the conversation Ascanio -overheard, paralyzed her impulse. And on the second visit the same -impulse did not come to her when the voice of the odious count was -mingled with the provost's. -</p> - -<p> -"There's a curious statue built just like a house," said D'Orbec, as he -halted at the foot of the colossus. "If it stands through the winter, -the swallows will build their nests in it in the spring." -</p> - -<p> -On the morning of the day when the mere voice of her <i>fiancé</i> so -alarmed Colombe, Ascanio had brought her a letter from Cellini. -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -"My child," so ran the letter, "I am obliged to go away, but have no -fear. I leave everything prepared for your deliverance and your -happiness. The king's word guarantees my success, and the king you know -has never been false to his word. From to-day your father also will be -absent. Do not despair. I have now had all the time that I needed. -Therefore I say to you again, dear girl, though you should be at the -church door, though you should be kneeling at the altar, and on the -point of uttering the words which bind you for life, let things take -their course. Providence will intervene in time, I swear to you. Adieu. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 50%;">"Your father,</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"BENVENUTO CELLINI."</p> -</blockquote> - -<p> -This letter, which filled Colombe's heart with joy by reviving her -hopes, had the unfortunate result of causing the poor children to feel a -dangerous sense of security. Youth is incapable of moderate feelings: it -leaps at one bound from despair to the fullest confidence; in its eyes -the sky is always black with tempests or resplendently clear. Being -rendered doubly confident by the provost's absence and Cellini's letter, -they neglected their precautions, and thought more of their love and -less of prudence. Colombe was not so guarded in her movements, and Dame -Perrine saw her, but luckily mistook her for the monk's ghost. Ascanio -lighted the lamp without drawing the curtains, and the light was seen by -Dame Ruperta. The tales of the two gossips taken in conjunction aroused -the curiosity of Jacques Aubry, and the indiscreet student, like Horace -in the "École des Femmes," revealed everything to the very person to -whom he should have revealed absolutely nothing. We know the result of -his disclosures. -</p> - -<p> -Let us now return to the Hôtel d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p> -When Marmagne was asked how he had stumbled upon his valuable discovery, -he assumed an air of mystery and refused to tell. The truth was too -simple, and did not reflect sufficient credit upon his penetration; he -preferred to let it be understood that he had arrived at the magnificent -results which aroused their wonder by dint of strategy and perseverance. -The duchess was radiant; she went and came, and plied the viscount with -questions. So they had her at last, the little rebel who had terrified -them all! Madame d'Etampes determined to go in person to the Hôtel de -Nesle to make sure of her friend's good fortune. Moreover, after what -had happened after the flight, or rather the abduction, of Colombe, the -girl must not be left at the Petit-Nesle. The duchess would take charge -of her: she would take her to the Hôtel d'Etampes, and would keep a -closer watch upon her than duenna and <i>fiancé</i> together had done; she -would keep watch upon her as a rival, so that Colombe would surely be -well guarded. -</p> - -<p> -The duchess ordered her litter. -</p> - -<p> -"The affair has been kept very secret," said she to the provost. "You, -D'Orbec, are not the man to worry about a childish escapade of this -sort? I don't see, then, what is to prevent the marriage from taking -place, and our plans from being carried out." -</p> - -<p> -"On the same conditions, of course, duchess?" said D'Orbec. -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure, on the same conditions, my dear count. As to Benvenuto," -continued the duchess, "who is guilty, either as principal or accessory, -of an infamous abduction,—never fear, dear viscount, we will avenge -you, while avenging ourselves." -</p> - -<p> -"But I understand, madame," rejoined Marmagne, "that, the king in his -artistic enthusiasm had made him a solemn promise, in case the statue of -his Jupiter should be cast successfully, so that he will simply have to -breathe a wish to see his wish gratified." -</p> - -<p> -"Never fear, that's just where I will watch," rejoined the duchess; "I -will prepare a surprise for him on that day that will be a surprise -indeed. So rely upon me, and let me manage everything." -</p> - -<p> -That was in truth the best thing they could do: not for a long while had -the duchess seemed so eager, so animated, so charming. Her joy -overflowed in spite of her. She sent the provost away in hot haste to -summon his archers, and erelong that functionary, accompanied by D'Orbec -and Marmagne, and preceded by a number of subordinates, arrived at the -door of the Hôtel de Nesle, followed at a short distance by Madame -d'Etampes, who waited upon the quay, trembling with impatience, and -constantly thrusting her head out of the litter. -</p> - -<p> -It was the dinner hour of the workmen, and Ascanio, Pagolo, little -Jehan, and the women were the only occupants of the Grand-Nesle at the -moment. Benvenuto was not expected until the evening of the following -day, or the morning of the day following that. Ascanio, who received the -visitors, supposed that it was a third domiciliary visit, and, as he had -very positive orders from the master on that subject, he offered no -resistance, but welcomed them, on the other hand, most courteously. -</p> - -<p> -The provost, his friends and his retainers, went straight to the -foundry. -</p> - -<p> -"Open this door for us," said D'Estourville to Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -The young man's heart was oppressed with a terrible presentiment. -However he might be mistaken, and as the least hesitation might awaken -suspicion, he handed the provost the key without moving a muscle. -</p> - -<p> -"Take that long ladder," said the provost to his archers. -</p> - -<p> -They obeyed, and under Messire d'Estourville's guidance marched straight -to the statue. There the provost himself put the ladder in place, and -prepared to ascend, but Ascanio, pale with terror and wrath placed his -foot on the first round. -</p> - -<p> -"What is your purpose, messieurs?" he cried; "this statue is the -master's masterpiece. It has been placed in my charge, and the first man -who lays hand upon it for any purpose whatsoever is a dead man, I warn -you!" -</p> - -<p> -He drew from his belt a keen-edged, slender dagger, of such marvellous -temper that it would cut through a gold crown at a single blow. -</p> - -<p> -The provost gave a signal and his archers advanced upon Ascanio pike in -hand. He made a desperate resistance and wounded two men; but he could -do nothing alone against eight, leaving the provost, Marmagne, and -D'Orbec out of the reckoning. He was forced to yield to superior -numbers: he was thrown down, bound and gagged, and the provost started -up the ladder, followed by two sergeants for fear of a surprise. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe had heard and seen everything; her father found her in a swoon, -for when she saw Ascanio fall she believed him to be dead. -</p> - -<p> -Aroused to anger rather than anxiety by this sight, the provost threw -Colombe roughly over his broad shoulders, and descended the ladder. The -whole party then returned to the quay, the archers escorting Ascanio, at -whom D'Orbec gazed most earnestly. Pagolo saw his comrade pass and did -not stir. Little Jehan had disappeared. Scozzone alone, understanding -nothing of what had taken place, tried to bar the door, crying,— -</p> - -<p> -"What means this violence, messieurs? Why are you taking Ascanio away? -Who is this woman?" -</p> - -<p> -But at that moment the veil which covered Colombe's face fell off, and -Scozzone recognized the model for the statue of Hebe. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon she stood aside, pale with jealousy, and allowed the provost -and his people, as well as their prisoners, to pass without another -word. -</p> - -<p> -"What does this mean, and why have you abused this boy so?" demanded -Madame d'Etampes, when she saw Ascanio bound, and pale and covered with -blood. "Unbind him! unbind him!" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said the provost, "this same boy resisted us desperately; he -wounded two of my men; he is his master's accomplice without doubt, and -it seems to me advisable to take him to some safe place." -</p> - -<p> -"And furthermore," said D'Orbec in an undertone to the duchess, "he so -strongly resembles the Italian page I saw at your reception, and who was -present throughout our conversation, that, if he were not dressed -differently, and if I had not heard him speak the language which you -assured me the page could not understand, upon my honor, Madame la -Duchesse, I would swear it was he!" -</p> - -<p> -"You are right. Monsieur le Prévôt," said Madame d'Etampes hastily, -thinking better of the order she had given to set Ascanio at liberty; -"you are right, this young man may be dangerous. Make sure of his -person." -</p> - -<p> -"To the Châtelet with the prisoner," said the provost. -</p> - -<p> -"And we," said the duchess, at whose side Colombe, still unconscious, -had been placed,—"we, messieurs, will return to the Hôtel -d'Etampes!" -</p> - -<p> -A moment later the hoof-beats of a galloping horse rang out upon the -pavement. It was little Jehan, riding off at full speed to tell Cellini -what had taken place at the Hôtel de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, meanwhile, was committed to the Châtelet without having seen -the duchess, and in ignorance of the part played by her in the event -which destroyed his hopes. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap10_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>X -<br /><br /> -THE RIVALS</h4> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes, who had been so desirous to see Colombe at close -quarters ever since she had first heard of her, had her heart's desire -at last: the poor child lay there before her in a swoon. -</p> - -<p> -The jealous duchess did not once cease to gaze at her throughout the -whole journey to the Hôtel d'Etampes. Her eyes, blazing with anger when -she saw how beautiful she was, scrutinized each of her charms, analyzed -each feature, and passed in review one after another all the elements -which went to make up the perfect beauty of the pale-cheeked girl who -was at last in her power and under her hand. The two women, who were -inspired with the same passion and disputing possession of the same -heart, were face to face at last. One all-powerful and malevolent, the -other weak, but beloved; one with her splendor, the other with her -youth; one with her passion, the other with her innocence. Separated by -so many obstacles, they had finally come roughly in contact, and the -duchess's velvet robe brushed against Colombe's simple white gown. -</p> - -<p> -Though Colombe was in a swoon, Anne was not the least pale of the two. -Doubtless her mute contemplation of her companion's loveliness caused -her pride to despair, and destroyed her hopes; for while, in her own -despite, she murmured, "They told me truly, she is lovely, very lovely!" -her hand, which held Colombe's, pressed it so convulsively that the -young girl was brought to her senses by the pain, and opened her great -eyes, saying,— -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, madame, you hurt me!" -</p> - -<p> -As soon as the duchess saw that Colombe's eyes were open, she let her -hand fall. But the consciousness of pain preceded the return of the -faculty of thought. For some seconds after she uttered the words, she -continued to gaze wonderingly at the duchess, as if she could not -collect her thoughts. -</p> - -<p> -"Who are you, madame," she said at last, "and whither are you taking -me?" Then she suddenly drew away from her, crying,— -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! you are the Duchesse d'Etampes. I remember, I remember!" -</p> - -<p> -"Hush!" returned Anne imperiously. "Hush! Soon we shall be alone, and -you can wonder and cry out at your ease." -</p> - -<p> -These words were accompanied by a stern, haughty glance; but it was a -sense of her own dignity, and not the glance, which imposed silence upon -Colombe. She said not another word until they reached the Hôtel -d'Etampes, where, at a sign from the duchess, she followed her to her -oratory. -</p> - -<p> -When the rivals were at last alone and face to face, they eyed each -other for one or two minutes without speaking, but with very different -expressions. Colombe was calm, for her trust in Providence and in -Benvenuto sustained her. Anne was furious at her calmness, but although -her fury was clearly evidenced by the contortion of her features, she -did not give expression to it, for she relied upon her imperious will, -and her unbounded power to crush the feeble creature before her. She was -the first to break the silence. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my young friend," she said, in a tone which left no doubt as to -the bitterness of the thought, although the words were soft, "you are -restored to your father, at last. It is well, but allow me first of all -to compliment you upon your courage; you are—bold for your age, my -child." -</p> - -<p> -"I have God on my side, madame," rejoined Colombe simply. -</p> - -<p> -"What god do you refer to, mademoiselle? Oh, the god Mars, of course!" -returned the duchess with one of those impertinent winks which she so -often had occasion to resort to at court. -</p> - -<p> -"I know but one God, madame; the Eternal God, merciful and protecting, -who teaches charity in prosperity, and humility in grandeur. Woe to them -who know not the God of whom I speak, for there will come a day when He -will not know them." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, mademoiselle, very good!" said the duchess. "The situation -is admirably adapted for a moral lecture, and I would congratulate you -upon your happy choice of a subject if I did not prefer to think that -you are trying to excuse your wantonness by impudence." -</p> - -<p> -"In truth, madame," replied Colombe, without bitterness, but with a -slight shrug of the shoulders, "I do not seek to excuse myself to you, -because I am as yet ignorant of any right on your part to accuse me. -When my father chooses to question me, I shall reply with respect and -sorrow. If he reproves me I will try to justify myself; but until then, -Madame la Duchesse, permit me to hold my peace." -</p> - -<p> -"I understand that my voice annoys you, and you would prefer, would you -not, to remain alone with your thoughts and think at leisure of the man -you love?" -</p> - -<p> -"No noise, however annoying it may be, can prevent me from thinking of -him, madame, especially when he is unhappy." -</p> - -<p> -"You dare confess that you love him?" -</p> - -<p> -"That is the difference between us, madame; you love him, and dare not -confess it." -</p> - -<p> -"Impudent hussy!" cried the duchess, "upon my word I believe she defies -me." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! no," replied Colombe softly, "I do not defy you, I reply, simply -because you force me to reply. Leave me alone with my thoughts, and I -will leave you alone with your schemes." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! since you drive me to it, child, since you imagine that you -are strong enough to contend with me, since you confess your love, I -will confess mine; but at the same time I will confess my hatred. Yes, -I love Ascanio, and I hate you! After all, why should I dissemble with -you, the only person to whom I may say whatever I choose? for you are -the only one who, whatever you say, will not be believed. Yes, I love -Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case I pity you, madame," rejoined Colombe softly, "for Ascanio -loves me." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it is true, Ascanio does love you; but by seduction if I can, by -falsehood if I must, by a crime if it becomes necessary, I will steal -his love away from you, mark that! I am Anne d'Heilly, Duchesse -d'Etampes!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio, madame, will love the one who loves him best." -</p> - -<p> -"In God's name hear her!" cried the duchess, exasperated by such sublime -confidence. "Would not one think that her love is unique, and that no -other love can be compared to it?" -</p> - -<p> -"I do not say that, madame. For the reason that I love, I know that -other hearts may love as I do, but I doubt if yours is one of them." -</p> - -<p> -"What would you do for him? Come, let us see, you who boast of this love -of yours which mine can never equal. What have you sacrificed for him -thus far? an obscure life and wearisome solitude?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, madame, but my peace of mind." -</p> - -<p> -"You have given him preference over what? Comte d'Orbec's absurd love?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, madame, but my filial obedience." -</p> - -<p> -"What have you to give him? Can you make him rich, powerful, feared?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, madame, but I hope to make him happy." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" exclaimed the duchess; "it's a very different matter with me, and -I do much more for him: I sacrifice a king's affection; I lay wealth, -titles, and honors at his feet; I bring him a kingdom to govern." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Colombe with a smile, "it's true that your love gives him -everything that is not love." -</p> - -<p> -"Enough, enough of this insulting comparison!" cried the duchess -violently, feeling that she was losing ground step by step. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon ensued a momentary pause, during which Colombe seemed to feel -no embarrassment, while Madame d'Etampes succeeded in concealing hers -only by revealing her anger. However, her features gradually relaxed, -her faee assumed a milder expression, lightened by a gleam of real or -feigned benevolence. She was the first to reopen the conflict which she -did not propose should end otherwise than in a triumph. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us see, Colombe," said she in a tone that was almost affectionate, -"if some one should bid you sacrifice your life for him, what would you -do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! I would give it to him blissfully!" -</p> - -<p> -"And so would I!" cried the duchess with an accent which proved the -violence of her passion, if not the sincerity of the sacrifice. -</p> - -<p> -"But your honor," she continued, "would you sacrifice that as well as -your life?" -</p> - -<p> -"If by my honor you mean my reputation, yes; if by my honor you mean my -virtue, no." -</p> - -<p> -"What! you do not belong to him? is he not your lover?" -</p> - -<p> -"He is my <i>fiancé</i>, madame; that is all." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, she doesn't love him!" rejoined the duchess, "she doesn't love -him! She prefers her honor, a mere empty word, to him." -</p> - -<p> -"If some one were to say to you, madame," retorted Colombe, angered in -spite of her sweet disposition, "if some one were to say to you, -'Renounce for his sake your titles and your grandeur; abandon the king -for him,—not in secret, that would be too easy,—but -publicly.' If some one were to say to you, 'Anne d'Heilly, Duchesse -d'Etampes, leave your palace, your luxurious surroundings, and your -courtiers for his humble artist's studio'?" -</p> - -<p> -"I would refuse in his own interest," replied the duchess, as if it were -impossible to say what was false beneath the profound, penetrating gaze -of her rival. -</p> - -<p> -"You would refuse?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! she doesn't love him!" cried Colombe; "she prefers honors, mere -chimeras, to him." -</p> - -<p> -"But when I tell you that I wish to retain my position for his sake," -returned the duchess, exasperated anew by this fresh triumph of her -rival,—"when I tell you that I wish to retain my honors so that he -may share them? All men care for them sooner or later." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," replied Colombe, smiling; "but Ascanio is not one of them." -</p> - -<p> -"Hush!" cried Anne, stamping her foot in passion. -</p> - -<p> -Thus had the cunning and powerful duchess signally failed to gain the -upper hand over a mere girl, whom she expected to intimidate simply by -raising her voice. To her questions, angry or satirical, Colombe had -made answer with a modest tranquillity which disconcerted her. She -realized that the blind impulsion of her hatred had led her astray, so -she changed her tactics. To tell the truth, she had not reckoned upon -the possession of so much beauty or so much wit by her rival, and, -finding that she could not bend her, she determined to take her by -surprise. -</p> - -<p> -Colombe as we have seen, was not alarmed by the double explosion of -Madame d'Etampes's wrath, but simply took refuge in cold and dignified -silence. The duchess, however, following out the new plan she had -adopted, now approached her with her most fascinating smile, and took -her affectionately by the hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me, my child," she said, "but I fear I lost my temper; you must -not bear me ill will for it; you have the advantage of me in so many -ways, that it's natural that I should be jealous. Alas! you, no doubt, -like everybody else, consider me a wicked woman. But, in truth, my -destiny is at fault, not I. Forgive me, therefore; because we both -happen to love Ascanio is no reason why we should hate each other. And -then he loves you alone, so 't is your duty to be indulgent. Let us be -sisters, what say you? Let us talk frankly together, and I will try to -efface from your mind the unfortunate impression which my foolish anger -may have left there." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame!" said Colombe, with reserve, and withdrawing her hand with an -instinctive movement of repulsion; but she added at once, "Speak, I am -listening." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh," said Madame d'Etampes playfully, and as if she understood -perfectly her companion's reserve, "have no fear, little savage, I do -not ask for your friendship without a guaranty. In order that you may -know what manner of woman I am, that you may know me as I know myself, I -propose to tell you in two words the story of my life. My heart has -little to do with my story, and we poor women, who are called great -ladies, are so often slandered! Ah! envy does very wrong to speak ill of -us when we are fitter subjects for compassion. For instance, what is -your judgment of me, my child? Be frank. You look upon me as a lost -woman, do you not?" -</p> - -<p> -Colombe made a gesture indicative of the embarrassment she felt at the -idea of replying to such a question. -</p> - -<p> -"But if I am a lost woman, is it my fault? You in your happiness, -Colombe, must not be too hard upon those who have suffered,—you who -have lived hitherto in innocent solitude, and do not know what it is to -be reared upon ambitious dreams: for they who are destined to that -torture, like victims decked out with flowers, see only the bright side -of life. There is no question of love, simply of pleading. So it was -that from my earliest youth my thoughts were all bent upon fascinating -the king; the beauty which God gives to woman to be exchanged for true -love, I was forced to exchange for a title; they made of my charms a -snare. Tell me now, Colombe, what could be the fate of a poor child, -taken in hand before she has learned to know the difference between good -and evil, and who is told, 'The good is evil, the evil is good'? And so, -you see, although others despair of me, I do not despair of myself. -Perhaps God will forgive me, for no one stood beside me to tell me of -him. What was there for me to do, alone as I was, and weak and -defenceless? Craft and deceit have made up my whole life from that time -on. And yet I was not made to play such a hideous rôle; the proof is -that I love Ascanio, and that when I found that I loved him I was happy -and ashamed at the same time. Now tell me, my pure, darling child, do -you understand me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." innocently replied Colombe, deceived by this false good faith, -this lie masquerading in the guise of truth. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you will have pity on me," cried the duchess; "you will let me -love Ascanio from a distance, all by myself, hopelessly; and in that way -I shall not be your rival, for he will not care for me; and, in return, -I, who know the world and its snares, its pitfalls and deceit, will take -the place of the mother you have lost. I will guide you, I will save -you. Now you see that you can trust me, for you save my life. A child in -whose heart the passions of a woman were sown, that in brief is my past. -My present you see for yourself; it is the shame of being the declared -mistress of a king. My future is my love for Ascanio,—not his for -me, because, as you have said, and as I have very often told myself, -Ascanio will never love me; but for the very reason that love will remain -pure it will purify me. Now it is your turn, to speak, to open your -heart, to tell me everything. Tell me your story, dear girl." -</p> - -<p> -"My story, madame, is very brief and very simple," said Colombe; "it may -all be summed up in three loves. I have loved, I love, and I shall -love,—God, my father, and Ascanio. But in the past my love for -Ascanio, whom I had not then met, was a dream; at present it is a cause of -suffering; in the future, it is a hope." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good," said the duchess, restraining her jealousy, and forcing -back her tears; "but do not half confide in me, Colombe. What do you -mean to do now? How can you, poor child, contend with two such powerful -wills as your father's and Comte d'Orbec's? To say nothing of the king's -having seen you and fallen in love with you." -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu!" murmured Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -"But as this passion on the king's part was the work of the Duchesse -d'Etampes, your rival, your friend, Anne d'Heilly will deliver you from -it. So we won't disturb ourselves about the king: but your father and -the count must be reckoned with. Their ambition is less easy to balk -than the commonplace fancy of the king." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, do not be half kind!" cried Colombe; "save me from the others as -well as from the king." -</p> - -<p> -"I know but one way," said Madame d'Etampes, seeming to reflect. -</p> - -<p> -"What is that?" -</p> - -<p> -"You will take fright, and refuse to adopt it." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, if only courage is required, tell me what it is." -</p> - -<p> -"Come here, and listen to me," said the duchess, affectionately drawing -Colombe to a seat upon a stool beside her arm-chair, and passing her arm -around her waist. "Don't be alarmed, I beg, at the first words I say." -</p> - -<p> -"Is it very terrifying?" Colombe asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Your virtue is unbending, and unspotted, my dear little one, but we -live, alas! at a time and in a society where such fascinating innocence -is but a danger the more, for it places you, without means of defence, -at the mercy of your enemies, whom you cannot fight with the weapons -they use to attack you. So make an effort, descend from the heights to -which your dreams have transported you, to the lower level of reality. -You said just now that you would sacrifice your reputation for Ascanio. -I do not ask so much as that, but simply that you sacrifice the -appearance of fidelity to him. It is pure madness for you, alone and -helpless, to struggle against your destiny: for you, the daughter of a -gentleman, to dream of marriage with a goldsmith's apprentice! Come, -trust the advice of a sincere friend; do not resist them, but let them -have their way: remain at heart the spotless fiancé, the wife of -Ascanio, and give your hand to Comte d'Orbec. His ambitious schemes -require that you should bear his name; but once you are Comtesse -d'Orbec, you can easily overturn his detestable schemes, for you have -only to raise your voice and complain. Whereas now, who would take your -part in the contest? No one: even I cannot assist you against the -legitimate authority of a father, while, if it were a question of -foiling your husband's combinations, you would soon see me at work. -Reflect upon what I say. To remain your own mistress, obey; to become -independent, pretend to abandon your liberty. Strong in the thought that -Ascanio is your lawful husband, and that union with any other is mere -sacrilege, you may do what your heart bids you, and your conscience will -be at rest, while the world, in whose eyes appearances will be -preserved, will take your part." -</p> - -<p> -"Madame! madame!" murmured Colombe, rising and straightening herself -against the duchess's arm, as she sought to detain her, "I am not sure -that I understand you aright, but it seems to me that you are advising -me to do an infamous thing!" -</p> - -<p> -"What do you say?" cried the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"I say that virtue is not so subtle as all that, madame; I say that your -sophistries make me blush for you; I say that beneath the cloak of -friendship with which you conceal your hatred, I see the net you have -spread for me. You wish to dishonor me in Ascanio's eyes, do you not, -because you know that Ascanio will never love or will cease to love the -woman he despises?" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, yes!" said the duchess, bursting forth at last; "I am weary of -wearing a mask. Ah! you will not fall into the net I have spread, you -say? Very good, then you will fall into the abyss I will push you into. -Hear this: Whether you will or no, you shall marry D'Orbec!" -</p> - -<p> -"In that case the force put upon me will be my excuse, and by yielding, -if I do yield, I shall not have profaned my heart's religion." -</p> - -<p> -"Pray, do you mean to resist?" -</p> - -<p> -"By every means in the power of a poor girl. I warn you that I will say -No! to the end. You may put my hand in that man's, I will say No! You -may drag me before the altar, I will say No! You may force me to kneel -at the priest's feet, and to the priest's face I will say No!" -</p> - -<p> -"What matters it? Ascanio will believe that you have consented to the -marriage that is forced upon you." -</p> - -<p> -"For that reason I hope I may not have to submit to it, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"Upon whom do you rely to come to your assistance?" -</p> - -<p> -"Upon God above, and upon a man on earth." -</p> - -<p> -"But the man is a prisoner." -</p> - -<p> -"The man is free, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, who is the man, I pray to know?" -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess ground her teeth when she heard the name of the man she -considered her deadliest foe. But as she was on the point of repeating -the name, accompanied by some terrible imprecation, a page raised the -portière and announced the king. -</p> - -<p> -At that announcement she darted from the room to meet François I. with -a smile upon her lips, and led him to her own apartments, motioning to -her people to keep watch upon Colombe. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap11_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XI -<br /><br /> -BENVENUTO AT BAY</h4> - -<p> -An hour after the imprisonment of Ascanio and the abduction of Colombe, -Benvenuto Cellini rode along the Quai des Augustins at a footpace. He -had just parted from the king and the court, whom he had amused -throughout the journey by innumerable tales, told as he only could tell -them, mingled with anecdotes of his own adventures. But when he was once -more alone he became thoughtful and abstracted; the frivolous talker -gave place to the profound dreamer. While his hand shook the rein, his -brain was busily at work; he dreamed of the casting of his Jupiter, upon -which depended his dear Ascanio's happiness as well as his artistic -fame; the bronze was fermenting in his brain before being melted in the -furnace. Outwardly he was calm. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached the door of the Hôtel de Nesle he stopped for a moment, -amazed not to hear the sound of hammering; the blackened walls of the -château were mute and gloomy, as if no living thing were within. Twice -the master rapped without obtaining a reply; at the third summons -Scozzone opened the door. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, there you are, master!" she cried when she saw that it was -Benvenuto. "Alas! why did you not return two hours earlier?" -</p> - -<p> -"What has happened, in God's name?" demanded Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"The provost, Comte d'Orbec, and the Duchesse d'Etampes have been here." -</p> - -<p> -"Well?" -</p> - -<p> -"They made a search." -</p> - -<p> -"And then?" -</p> - -<p> -"They found Colombe in the head of the statue of Mars." -</p> - -<p> -"Impossible!" -</p> - -<p> -"The Duchesse d'Etampes carried Colombe home with her, and the provost -ordered Ascanio to be taken to the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! we have been betrayed!" cried Benvenuto striking his hand against -his forehead and stamping upon the ground. As his first thought on every -occasion was of vengeance, he left his horse to find his own way to the -stable, and darted into the studio. -</p> - -<p> -"Come hither, all of you," he cried,—"all!" -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon each one had to undergo an examination in due form, but they -were all equally ignorant, not only of Colombe's hiding place, but of -the means by which her enemies had succeeded in discovering it. There -was not a single one, including Pagolo, upon whom the master's suspicion -fell first of all, who did not exculpate himself in a way that left no -doubt in Benvenuto's mind. It is needless to say that he did not for an -instant suspect Hermann, and Simon-le-Gaucher for no more than an -instant. -</p> - -<p> -When he became convinced that he could learn nothing in that direction, -Benvenuto, with the rapidity of decision which was usual with him, made -up his mind what course to pursue; and having made sure that his sword -was at his side and that his dagger moved easily in its sheath, he -ordered everybody to remain at home in order to be at hand in case of -need. He then left the studio, and hurried across the courtyard into the -street. -</p> - -<p> -His features, his gait, and his every movement, bore the stamp of -intense excitement. A thousand thoughts, a thousand schemes, a thousand -painful reflections, were jostling one another confusedly in his head. -Ascanio failed him at the moment when his presence was most essential, -for all his apprentices, with the most intelligent of them all at their -head, were none too many for the casting of his Jupiter. Colombe was -abducted; and Colombe in the midst of her foes might lose heart. The -serene, sublime confidence which served the poor child as a bulwark -against evil thoughts and perverse designs would perhaps grow weaker, or -abandon her altogether, in such a maze of plots and threats. With all -the rest, he remembered that one day he had spoken to Ascanio of the -possibility of some cruel vengeance on the part of the Duchesse -d'Etampes, whereupon Ascanio replied with a smile,— -</p> - -<p> -"She will not dare to ruin me, for with a word I could ruin her." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto sought to learn the secret, but Ascanio would make no other -reply to his questions than this:— -</p> - -<p> -"To-day it would be treachery, master. Wait until the day comes when it -will be only a legitimate means of defence." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto understood the delicacy which closed his mouth, and waited. -How it was necessary that he should see Ascanio, and his first endeavors -should be directed to that end. -</p> - -<p> -With Benvenuto the wish led at once to the decision necessarily to -gratify it. He had hardly said to himself that he must see Ascanio, -before he was knocking at the door of the Châtelet. The wicket opened, -and one of the provost's people asked Cellini who he was. Another man -was standing behind him in the shadow. -</p> - -<p> -"My name is Benvenuto Cellini," replied the goldsmith. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you wish?" -</p> - -<p> -"To see a prisoner who is confined herein." -</p> - -<p> -"What is his name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio is in secret and can see no one." -</p> - -<p> -"Why is he in secret?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because he is charged with a crime punishable with death." -</p> - -<p> -"An additional reason why I should see him," cried Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Your logic is most extraordinary, Signor Cellini," said the man who was -standing in the background, in a jeering tone, "and doesn't pass -current at the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Who laughs when I proffer a request? Who jeers when I implore a favor?" -cried Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"I," said the voice,—"I, Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris. To -each his turn, Signor Cellini. Every contest consists of a game and -revenge. You won the first bout, and the second is mine. You illegally -took my property, I legally take your apprentice. You refused to return -the one to me, so never fear, I will not return the other to you. You -are gallant and enterprising; you have an army of devoted retainers. -Come on, my stormer of citadels! Come on, my scaler of walls! Come on, -my burster in of doors! Come and take the Châtelet! I am waiting for -you." -</p> - -<p> -With that the wicket was closed. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto, with a roar, darted at the massive iron door, but could make -no impression upon it with the united efforts of his feet and hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Come on, my friend, come on, strike, strike!" cried the provost from -the other side of the door; "you will only succeed in making a noise, -and if you make too much, beware the watch, beware the archers! Ah! the -Châtelet isn't like the Hôtel de Nesle, you'll find; it belongs to -our lord the king, and we shall see if you are more powerful in France -than the king." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto cast his eyes about and saw upon the quay an uprooted -mile-stone which two ordinary men would have found difficulty in -lifting. He walked to where it lay picked it up and put it on his -shoulder as easily as a child could do the same with a pebble. He had -taken but a step or two, however, when he reflected that, when the door -was broken in, he should find the guard waiting for him, and the result -would be that he should himself be imprisoned,—imprisoned when -Ascanio's liberty was dependent upon his own. He therefore dropped the -stone, which was driven some inches into the ground by its own weight. -</p> - -<p> -Doubtless the provost was watching him from some invisible loophole, for -he heard a burst of laughter. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto hurried away at full speed, lest he should yield to the desire -to dash his head against the accursed door. -</p> - -<p> -He went directly to the Hôtel d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p> -All was not lost, if, failing to see Ascanio, he could see Colombe. -Perhaps Ascanio, in the overflowing of his heart, had confided to his -beloved the secret he had refused to confide to his master. -</p> - -<p> -All went well at first. The gateway of the mansion was open; he crossed -the courtyard and entered the reception-room, where stood a tall footman -with lace on all the seams of his livery,—a sort of colossus four -feet wide and six high. -</p> - -<p> -"Who are you?" he demanded, eying the goldsmith from head to foot. -</p> - -<p> -At another time Benvenuto would have answered his insolent stare by one -of his customary violent outbursts, but it was essential that he should -see Colombe. Ascanio's welfare was at stake: so he restrained himself. -</p> - -<p> -"I am Benvenuto Cellini, the Florentine goldsmith," he replied. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you wish?" -</p> - -<p> -"To see Mademoiselle Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle Colombe is not visible." -</p> - -<p> -"Why is she not visible?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because her father, Messire d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, gave her -in charge to Madame d'Etampes, and requested her to keep an eye upon -her." -</p> - -<p> -"But I am a friend." -</p> - -<p> -"An additional reason for suspecting you." -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you that I must see her," said Benvenuto, beginning to get warm. -</p> - -<p> -"And I tell you that you shall not see her," retorted the servant. -</p> - -<p> -"Is Madame d'Etampes visible?" -</p> - -<p> -"No more than Mademoiselle Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"Not even to me, her jeweller?" -</p> - -<p> -"Less to you than to any other person." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you mean that orders have been given not to admit me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Just so," replied the servant; "you have put your finger on the spot." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know that I am a strange man, my friend," said Benvenuto, with -the terrible laugh which ordinarily preceded his outbursts of wrath; -"and that the place I am forbidden to enter is the place I am accustomed -to enter?" -</p> - -<p> -"How will you do it, eh? You amuse me." -</p> - -<p> -"When there is a door, and a blackguard like you in front of it, for -instance—" -</p> - -<p> -"Well?" said the valet. -</p> - -<p> -"Well!" retorted Benvenuto, suiting the action to the word, "I overturn -the blackguard, and break in the door." -</p> - -<p> -And with a blow of his fist he laid the valet sprawling on the floor, -and burst in the door with a blow of his foot. -</p> - -<p> -"Help!" cried the servant; "help!" -</p> - -<p> -But the poor devil's cry of distress was not needed; as Benvenuto passed -into the reception-room he found himself confronted by six others, -evidently stationed there to receive him. He at once divined that Madame -d'Etampes had been informed of his return, and had taken measures -accordingly. -</p> - -<p> -Under any other circumstances, armed as he was with dagger and sword, -Benvenuto would have fallen upon them, and would probably have given a -good account of himself, but such an act of violence in the abode of the -king's mistress might have deplorable results. For the second time, -contrary to his custom, common sense carried the day over wrath, and, -being certain that he could at all events have audience of the king, to -whose presence, as we know, he had the privilege of being admitted at -any hour, he replaced his sword, already half drawn, in its scabbard, -retraced his steps, pausing at every movement in his rear, like a lion -in retreat, walked slowly across the courtyard, and bent his steps -toward the Louvre. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto once more assumed a calm demeanor, and walked with measured -step, but his tranquillity was only apparent. Great drops of -perspiration were rolling down his cheeks, and his wrath was rising -mountain high within his breast, his superhuman efforts to master it -making him suffer the more. Indeed, nothing could be more utterly -antipathetic to his impulsive nature than delay, than the wretched -obstacle of a closed door, or the vulgar insolence of a lackey. Strong -men who command their thoughts are never so near despair as when they -come in collision with some material obstacle and struggle to no purpose -to surmount it. Benvenuto would have given ten years of his life to have -some man jostle him, and as he walked along he raised his head from time -to time and gazed threateningly at those who passed, as if he would -say:— -</p> - -<p> -"Isn't there some unfortunate wretch among you who is tired of life? If -so, let him apply to me, I'm his man!" -</p> - -<p> -A quarter of an hour later he reached the Louvre and went at once to the -apartment set apart for the pages, requesting immediate speech of his -Majesty. It was his purpose to tell François the whole story, and make -an appeal to his loyalty, and, if he could not obtain Ascanio's release, -to solicit permission to see him. As he came through the streets he -considered what language he would use to the king, and as he had some -pretensions to eloquence he was well content with the little speech he -had prepared. The excitement, the terrible news he had learned so -suddenly, the insults heaped upon him, the obstacles he could not -overcome, all these had combined to set the blood on fire in the -irascible artist's veins: his temples throbbed, his heart beat quickly, -his hands shook. He did not himself know the extent of the feverish -agitation which multiplied the energy of his body and his heart. A whole -day is sometimes concentrated in one minute. -</p> - -<p> -In such a frame of mind was Benvenuto when he appealed to a page for -admission to the king's apartments. -</p> - -<p> -"The king is not visible," was the young man's reply. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you not recognize me?" asked Benvenuto in surprise. -</p> - -<p> -"Perfectly." -</p> - -<p> -"I am Benvenuto Cellini, and his Majesty is always visible to me." -</p> - -<p> -"It is precisely because you are Benvenuto Cellini," returned the page, -"that you cannot enter." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was thunderstruck. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! is it you, M. de Termes?" continued the page, addressing a courtier -who arrived just behind the goldsmith. "Pass in, pass in, Comte de la -Paye; pass in, Marquis des Prés." -</p> - -<p> -"And what of me! what of me, pray?" cried Benvenuto, turning white with -anger. -</p> - -<p> -"You? The king, when he returned ten minutes since, said, 'If that -insolent Florentine makes his appearance, let him know that I do not -choose to receive him, and advise him to be submissive unless he desires -to make a comparison between the Castle of San Angelo and the -Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Help me, patience! Oh help me!" muttered Benvenuto in a hollow voice: -"Vrai Dieu! I am not accustomed to being made to wait by kings. The -Vatican's no less a place than the Louvre, and Leo X. is no less great a -man than François I., and yet I was not kept waiting at the door of the -Vatican, nor at that of Leo X. But I understand; it's like this: the -king was with Madame d'Etampes,—yes, the king has just come from his -mistress and has been put on his guard by her against me. Yes, that's -the way it is: patience for Ascanio! patience for Colombe!" -</p> - -<p> -Notwithstanding his praiseworthy resolution to be patient, however, -Benvenuto was obliged to lean against a pillar for support: his heart -was swollen to bursting, and his legs trembled under him. This last -insult not only wounded him in his pride, but in his friendship. His -soul was filled with bitterness and despair, and his clenched hands, his -frown, and his tightly closed lips bore witness to the violence of his -suffering. -</p> - -<p> -However, in a moment or two he recovered himself, tossed back the hair -which was falling over his brow, and left the palace with firm and -resolute step. All who were present watched him with something very like -respect as he walked away. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto's apparent tranquillity was due to the marvellous power he -possessed over himself, for he was in reality more confused and -desperate than a stag at bay. He wandered through the streets for some -time, heedless as to where he might be, hearing nothing but the buzzing -of the blood in his ears, and vaguely wondering, as one does in -intoxication, whether he was awake or asleep. It was the third time he -had been shown the door within an hour. It was the third time that doors -had been shut in his face,—in his face, Benvenuto's, the favorite of -princes, popes, and kings, before whom all doors were thrown open to -their fullest extent when his footsteps were heard approaching! And yet, -notwithstanding this threefold affront, he had not the right to give way -to his anger; he must dissemble, and hide his humiliation until he had -rescued Colombe and Ascanio. The throng through which he passed, -thoughtless or full of business, seemed to him to read upon his brow the -story of the repeated insults he had undergone. It was perhaps the only -moment in his whole life when his great heart lost faith in itself. But -after ten or fifteen minutes of this aimless, blind wandering, his will -reasserted itself, and he raised his head: his depression left him, and -the fever returned. -</p> - -<p> -"Go to!" he cried aloud, to such a degree did his mind dominate his -body; "go to! in vain do they crowd the man, they cannot throw down the -artist! Come, sculptor, and make them repent of their base deeds when -they admire thy handiwork! Come, Jupiter, and prove that thou art still, -not the king of the gods alone, but the master of mankind!" -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, Benvenuto, acting upon an impulse stronger than himself, -bent his step toward the Tournelles, that former royal residence, where -the old constable, Anne de Montmorency, still dwelt. -</p> - -<p> -The effervescent artist was required to await his turn for an hour -before he was admitted to the presence of the warrior minister of -François I., who was besieged by a mob of courtiers and petitioners. At -last he was introduced. -</p> - -<p> -Anne de Montmorency was a man of great height, little if any bent by -age, cold, stiff, and spare, with a piercing glance and an abrupt manner -of speaking; he was forever scolding, and no one ever saw him in good -humor. He would have looked upon it as a humiliation to be surprised -with a laugh upon his face. How had this morose old man succeeded in -making himself agreeable to the amiable and gracious prince, who then -governed France? It is something that can be explained in no other way -than by the law of contrasts. François I. had a way of sending away -satisfied those whose petitions he refused; the constable, on the other -hand, arranged matters in such a way that those whom he gratified went -away in a rage. He was only moderately endowed in the way of genius, but -he won the king's confidence by his military inflexibility and his -dictatorial gravity. -</p> - -<p> -When Benvenuto entered, Montmorency was, as usual, striding back and -forth in his apartment. He nodded in response to the goldsmith's -salutation; then paused in his walk, and, fixing his piercing gaze upon -him, inquired,— -</p> - -<p> -"Who are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"Your profession? -</p> - -<p> -"Goldsmith to the king," replied the artist, wondering to find that his -first reply did not make the second question unnecessary. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! yes, yes," growled the constable. "I recognize you. Well, what do -you want, what have you to ask, my friend? That I give you an order? If -you have counted on that, your time is thrown away, I give you warning. -Upon my word, I have no patience with this mania for art which is raging -so everywhere to-day. One would say it was an epidemic that has attacked -every one except myself. No, sculpture doesn't interest me in the very -least, Master Goldsmith, do you hear? So apply to others, and good -night." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto made a gesture, but before he could speak, the constable -continued:— -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! don't let that discourage you. You will find plenty of -courtiers who like to ape the king, and noodles who pose as -connoisseurs. As for me, hark ye? I stick to my trade, which is to wage -war, and I tell you frankly that I much prefer a good, healthy -peasant-woman, who gives me a child, that is to say, a soldier, every -ten months, than a wretched sculptor, who wastes his time turning out a -crowd of men of bronze who are good for nothing but to raise the price -of cannon." -</p> - -<p> -"Monseigneur," said Benvenuto, who had listened to this long heretical -harangue with a degree of patience which amazed himself, "I am not here -to speak upon artistic subjects, but upon a matter of honor." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! that's a different matter. What do you desire of me? Tell me -quickly." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you remember, monseigneur, that his Majesty once said to me in your -presence that, on the day when I should bring him the statue of Jupiter -cast in bronze, he would grant whatever favor I might ask, and that he -bade you, monseigneur, and Chancelier Poyet remind him of his promise in -the event of his forgetting it?" -</p> - -<p> -"I remember. What then?" -</p> - -<p> -"The moment is at hand, monseigneur, when I shall implore you to provide -a memory for the king. Will you do it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Is that what you come here to ask me, monsieur?" cried the constable; -"have you intruded upon me to beg me to do something I am bound to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Monseigneur!" -</p> - -<p> -"You're an impertinent fellow, Master Goldsmith. Understand that the -Connétable Anne de Montmorency does not need to be reminded to be an -honorable man. The king bade me remember for him, and that is a -precaution he might well take more frequently, with all due respect; I -shall do as he bade me, even though the reminder be annoying to him. -Adieu, Master Cellini, and make room for others." -</p> - -<p> -With that the constable turned his back on Benvenuto, and gave the -signal for another petitioner to be introduced. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto saluted the constable, whose somewhat brutal frankness was not -displeasing to him, and took his leave. Still agitated, and impelled by -the same feverish excitement and the same burning thoughts, he betook -himself to the abode of Chancelier Poyet, near Porte Saint-Antoine, only -a short distance away. -</p> - -<p> -Chancelier Poyet formed a most striking and complete contrast, moral and -physical, to Anne de Montmorency, who was always crabbed and always -incased in armor from head to foot. He was polished, shrewd, crafty, -buried in his furs, lost, so to speak, in the ermine. Naught could be -seen of him save a bald head surrounded by a grizzly fringe of hair, -intelligent, restless eyes, thin lips, and a white hand. He was quite as -honest perhaps as the constable, but much less outspoken. -</p> - -<p> -There again Benvenuto was forced to wait for half an hour. But his -friends would not have recognized him; he had accustomed himself to -waiting. -</p> - -<p> -"Monseigneur," he said, when he was at last ushered into the -chancellor's presence, "I have come to remind you of a promise the king -made me in your presence, and constituted you not only the witness -thereof but the guarantor." -</p> - -<p> -"I know what you refer to, Messire Benvenuto," said Poyet, "and I am -ready, if you wish, to bring his Majesty's promise to his mind; but it -is my duty to inform you that, from a legal standpoint, you have no -claim upon him, for an undertaking indefinite in form, and left to your -discretion, cannot be enforced before the courts, and never affords a -cause of action; wherefore, if the king satisfies your demand, he will -do so purely as a matter of generosity and good faith." -</p> - -<p> -"That is as I understand it, monseigneur," said Benvenuto, "and I simply -have to request you when the occasion arises to fulfil the duty his -Majesty intrusted to you, leaving the rest to his good will." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well," said Poyet, "I am at your service, my dear monsieur, to -that extent." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto thereupon took his leave of the chancellor, with his mind more -at ease, but his blood was still boiling, and his hands were trembling -with fever. His thoughts, excited by the annoyance and irritation and -insults to which he had been subjected, burst forth at last in full -freedom, after their long restraint. Space and time no longer existed -for the mind which they overflowed, and as Benvenuto strode along toward -his home he saw in a sort of luminous dream Del Moro's house, Stefana, -the Castle of San Angelo, and Colombe's garden. At the same time, he -felt that his strength became more than human, and he seemed to be -living in another world. -</p> - -<p> -He was still laboring under this intense exaltation of feeling when he -entered the Hôtel de Nesle. All the apprentices were awaiting his -return, in accordance with his commands. -</p> - -<p> -"How for the casting of the Jupiter, my children!" he cried from the -doorway, and darted into the studio. -</p> - -<p> -"Good morning, master," said Jacques Aubry, who had come in behind -Cellini, singing joyously as his wont was. "You neither saw nor heard -me, did you? For five minutes I have been following you along the quay, -calling you; you walked so fast that I am quite out of breath. In God's -name, what's the matter with you all? You are as sober as judges." -</p> - -<p> -"To the casting!" continued Benvenuto, without answering Aubry, although -he had seen him out of the corner of his eye, and listened to him with -one ear. "To the casting! Everything depends upon that. Merciful God, -shall we be successful? Ah! my friend," he continued, abruptly, -addressing Aubry,—"ah, my dear Jacques, what sad news awaited me on -my return, and what a cruel advantage they took of my absence!" -</p> - -<p> -"What is the matter, master?" cried Aubry, really disturbed by Cellini's -excitement and the dejection of the apprentices. -</p> - -<p> -"Above all things, boys, throw in plenty of dry spruce. You know that I -have been laying in a stock of it for six months. The matter, my good -Jacques, is that Ascanio is under lock and key at the Châtelet; and -that Colombe, the provost's daughter, that lovely girl whom Ascanio -loves, as you know, is in the hands of the Duchesse d'Etampes, her -enemy: they found her in the statue of Mars where I had hidden her. But -we will rescue them. Well, well, where are you going, Hermann? the -wood's in the yard, not in the cellar." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio arrested!" cried Aubry; "Colombe carried off!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes, some villanous spy must have watched them, poor children, and -surprised a secret which I had kept even from you, dear Jacques. But if -I discover the knave!—To the casting, boys, to the -casting!—That isn't all. The king refuses to see me, whom he -called his friend. So much for the friendship of men: to be sure kings -are not men, but kings. The result was that I went to the Louvre to no -purpose; I could not get speech of him. Ah! but my statue shall speak -for me. Prepare the mould, my friends, and let us not lose a moment. -That woman insulting poor Colombe! that infamous provost jeering at me! -that jailer torturing Ascanio! Oh, I have had some fearful visions -to-day, dear Jacques! I would give ten years of my life to the man who -could gain admission to the prisoner, speak to him, and learn the secret -by means of which I may subdue that arrogant duchess: for Ascanio knows -a secret which possesses that power, Jacques, and refused to divulge it -to me, noble heart! But no matter: have no fear for thy child, Stefana; -I will defend him to my latest breath, and I will save him! Yes, I will -save him! Ah! where is the vile traitor who betrayed us, that I may -strangle him with my own hands! Let me live but three days, Stefana, for -it seems to me that the fire which consumes me is burning my life away. -Oh if I should die before my Jupiter is finished! To the casting, -children! to the casting!" -</p> - -<p> -At Benvenuto's first words Jacques Aubry became pale as death, for he -suspected that he was the cause of it all. As the master proceeded, his -suspicion was changed to certainty. Thereupon some plan doubtless -suggested itself to him, for he stole silently away while Cellini -hurried away to the foundry, followed by his workmen, and shouting like -a madman,— -</p> - -<p> -"To the casting, children! to the casting!" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap12_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XII -<br /><br /> -OF THE DIFFICULTY WHICH AN HONEST MAN EXPERIENCES<br /> -IN PROCURING HIS OWN COMMITTAL<br /> -TO PRISON</h4> - -<p> -Poor Jacques Aubry was in a frame of mind bordering on despair when he -left the Grand-Nesle; there could be no doubt that it was he who, -involuntarily to be sure, had betrayed Ascanio's secret. But who was the -man who had betrayed him? Surely not that gallant nobleman whose name he -did not know: ah, no! he was a gentleman. It must have been that knave -of a Henriot, unless it was Robin, or Chariot, or Guillaume. To tell the -truth, poor Aubry rather lost himself in his conjectures; for the fact -was that he had intrusted the secret to a dozen or more intimate -friends, among whom it was no easy matter to find the culprit. But no -matter! the first, the real traitor was himself, Jacques Aubry,—the -infamous spy so roundly denounced by Benvenuto was himself. Instead of -locking away in his heart his friend's secret which he had surprised, he -had spread it broadcast in a score of places, and had brought disaster -upon his brother Ascanio with his infernal tongue. Jacques tore his -hair; Jacques beat himself with his fists; Jacques heaped mortal insults -upon himself, and could find no invectives sufficiently bitter to -qualify his conduct as it deserved. -</p> - -<p> -His remorse became so keen, and threw him into such a state of -exasperation with himself, that, for the first time in his life perhaps, -Jacques Aubry indulged in reflection. After all, when his head should be -bald, his chest black and blue, and his conscience torn to rags, Ascanio -would be no nearer freedom. At any cost, he must repair the evil he had -done, instead of wasting his time in despairing. -</p> - -<p> -Honest Jacques had retained these words of Benvenuto: "I would give ten -years of my life to the man who would gain admission to the prisoner, -speak to him, and learn the secret by means of which I may subdue that -arrogant duchess." And, as we have said, he began to reflect, contrary -to his wont. The result of his reflections was that he must gain -admission to the Châtelet. Once there, he would find a way to reach -Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -But Benvenuto had sought in vain to gain admission as a visitor; and -surely Jacques Aubry could never be so audacious as to think of -attempting a thing in which the master had failed. However, although it -might be impossible to effect an entrance as a visitor, it certainly -should be much easier, at least so the student thought, to be admitted -as a prisoner. He determined, therefore, to enter the Châtelet in that -character; then, when he had seen Ascanio, and Ascanio had told him all, -so that he had no further business at the Châtelet, he would take his -leave, rich in the possession of the precious secret, and would go to -Benvenuto, not to demand the ten years of his life that he offered, but -to confess his crime, and implore forgiveness. -</p> - -<p> -Delighted with the fecundity of his imagination, and proud of his -unexampled devotion, he bent his steps toward the Châtelet. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us see," he ruminated, as he walked with deliberate step toward the -prison where all his hopes were centred,—"let us see, in order to -avoid any more idiotic mistakes, how matters stand,—no easy task, -considering that the whole business seems to me as tangled as Gervaise's -skein when she gives it to me to hold, and I try to kiss her. Let's -begin at the beginning. Ascanio loved Colombe, the provost's daughter: -so far, so good. As the provost proposed to marry her to Comte d'Orbec, -Ascanio carried her off: very good. Not knowing what to do with the -sweet child when he had abducted her, he hid her in the head of the -statue of Mars: best of all. Faith, it was a wonderfully ingenious -hiding place, and nothing less than a beast—but let us pass over -that: I shall find myself again later. Thereupon it would seem that the -provost, acting upon my information, got his daughter into his clutches -once more, and imprisoned Ascanio. Triple brute that I am! But here is -where the skein begins to be tangled. What interest has the Duchesse -d'Etampes in all this? She detests Colombe, whom everybody else loves. -Why? Ah! I know. I remember certain jocose remarks of the apprentices, -Ascanio's embarrassment when the duchess was mentioned,—Madame -d'Etampes has her eye on Ascanio, and naturally abominates her rival. -Jacques, my friend, you are a miserable wretch, but you are a clever dog -all the same. Ah, yes! but now how does it happen that Ascanio has in -his hands the means of ruining the duchess? Why does the king appear at -intervals in the affair, with one Stefana? Why did Benvenuto constantly -invoke Jupiter, rather a heathenish invocation for a Catholic? Deuce -take me if I can see through all that. But it isn't absolutely necessary -that I should understand. Light is to be found in Ascanio's cell; -therefore the most essential thing is to get myself cast into the cell -with him. I will manage the rest afterward." -</p> - -<p> -As he thus communed with himself he reached his destination, and struck -a violent blow upon the great door of the Châtelet. The wicket opened, -and a harsh voice demanded to know his business: it was the jailer's. -</p> - -<p> -"I wish for a cell in your prison," replied Aubry in a hollow voice. -</p> - -<p> -"A cell!" exclaimed the astonished jailer. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, a cell: the blackest and deepest; even that will be better than I -deserve." -</p> - -<p> -"Why so?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because I am a great criminal." -</p> - -<p> -"What crime have you committed?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! indeed, what crime have I committed?" Jacques asked himself, for he -had not thought of preparing a crime suited to the occasion. As a -fertile, lively imagination was not his most prominent characteristic, -notwithstanding the compliments he had addressed to himself just before, -he repeated, stupidly,— -</p> - -<p> -"What crime?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, what crime?" -</p> - -<p> -"Guess," said Jacques. "This fellow ought to know more about crimes than -I do," he added to himself, "so I will let him give me a list, and then -make my selection." -</p> - -<p> -"Have you murdered anybody?" asked the jailer. -</p> - -<p> -"Great God! what do you take me for, my friend?" cried the student, -whose conscience rose in revolt at the thought of being taken for a -murderer. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you stolen anything?" continued the jailer. -</p> - -<p> -"Stolen? the idea!" -</p> - -<p> -"What in Heaven's name have you done then?" cried the jailer testily. -"To give yourself up as a criminal isn't all that is necessary: you -must say what crime you've committed." -</p> - -<p> -"But I tell you that I'm a villain, a vile wretch, and that I deserve -the wheel or the gallows!" -</p> - -<p> -"The crime? the crime?" the jailer repeated. -</p> - -<p> -"The crime? Well! I have betrayed my friend." -</p> - -<p> -"That's no crime," said the jailer. "Good night." And he closed the -wicket. -</p> - -<p> -"That's not a crime, you say? that's not a crime? What is it then, -pray?" -</p> - -<p> -And Jacques grasped the knocker with both hands, and knocked with all -his strength. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the matter? what's the matter?" said a different voice from -within the Châtelet. -</p> - -<p> -"It's a madman, who wants to be admitted into the prison," replied the -jailer. -</p> - -<p> -"If he's a madman, his place is not at the Châtelet, but at the -asylum." -</p> - -<p> -"At the asylum!" cried Aubry, scampering away as fast as his legs would -carry him, "at the asylum! Peste! that's not what I want. I want to get -into the Châtelet, not the asylum! Besides, paupers and beggars are -sent to the asylum, and not people who have twenty Paris sous in their -pocket as I have. The asylum! Why, that wretched jailer claims that to -betray one's friend is no crime! So it seems that, in order to have the -honor of being committed to prison one must have murdered or stolen. But -now I think of it,—why might I not have led some young girl astray? -There's nothing dishonorable about that. Very good, but what girl? -Gervaise?" -</p> - -<p> -Despite his preoccupation, the student roared with laughter. -</p> - -<p> -"But, after all," he said, "though it isn't so, it might have been. -Good! good! I have discovered my crime: I seduced Gervaise!" -</p> - -<p> -On the instant he set off for the young working-girl's home, ran up the -sixty stairs which led to her lodgings, and burst into the room where -the lovely grisette in a coquettish <i>négligé</i> was ironing her linen. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" exclaimed Gervaise, with a fascinating little shriek; "ah! -monsieur, you frightened me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Gervaise, my dear Gervaise," cried Aubry, rushing toward her with open -arms: "you must save my life, my child." -</p> - -<p> -"One moment, one moment," said Gervaise, using the hot flat-iron as a -shield; "what do you want, master gadabout? for three days I haven't -seen you." -</p> - -<p> -"I have done wrong, Gervaise, I am an unfortunate wretch. But a sure -proof that I love you is that I run to you in my distress. I repeat it, -Gervaise, you must save my life." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. I understand, you have been getting tipsy in some wine shop, and -have had a dispute with some one. The archers are after you to put you -in prison, and you come to poor Gervaise to give you shelter. Go to -prison, monsieur, go to prison, and leave me in peace." -</p> - -<p> -"That is just what I ask and all I ask, my little Gervaise,—to go to -prison. But the villains refuse to commit me." -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! Jacques," said the young woman compassionately, "have you -gone mad?" -</p> - -<p> -"There you are! they say that I am mad, and propose to send me to the -asylum, while the Châtelet is where I want to go." -</p> - -<p> -"You want to go to the Châtelet? What for, Aubry? The Châtelet's a -frightful prison; they say that when one gets in there, it's impossible -to say when one will come out." -</p> - -<p> -"I must get in there, however, I must!" cried the student. "There is no -other way to save him." -</p> - -<p> -"To save whom?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio? what, that handsome young fellow, your Benvenuto's pupil?" -</p> - -<p> -"Himself, Gervaise. He is in the Châtelet, and he's there by my fault." -</p> - -<p> -"Great God!" -</p> - -<p> -"So that I must join him there," said Jacques, "and save him." -</p> - -<p> -"Why is he in the Châtelet?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because he loved the provost's daughter, and seduced her." -</p> - -<p> -"Poor boy! Why, do they imprison men for that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Gervaise. How you see it was like this: he had her in hiding. I -discovered the hiding place, and, like an idiot, like an infamous -villain, I told the whole story to everybody." -</p> - -<p> -"Except me!" cried Gervaise. "That was just like you!" -</p> - -<p> -"Didn't I tell it to you, Gervaise?" -</p> - -<p> -"You didn't mention it. You're a great babbler with others, but not -with me. When you come here it's to kiss me, to drink, or to -sleep,—never to talk. Understand, monsieur, that a woman loves to -talk." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what are we doing at this moment, my little Gervaise?" said -Jacques. "We are talking, I should say." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, because you need me." -</p> - -<p> -"It is true that you could do me a great service." -</p> - -<p> -"What is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"You could say that I seduced you." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, of course you seduced me, you wretch." -</p> - -<p> -"I!" cried Jacques in amazement. "I seduced you, Gervaise?" -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! yes, that is the word: seduced, monsieur, shamelessly seduced by -your fine words, by your false promises." -</p> - -<p> -"By my fine words and false promises?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes. Didn't you tell me I was the prettiest girl in the whole quarter -of Saint-Germain des Prés?" -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you that now." -</p> - -<p> -"Didn't you say that, if I didn't love you, you should die of love?" -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think I said that? It's strange I don't remember it." -</p> - -<p> -"While, on the contrary, if I did love you, you would marry me." -</p> - -<p> -"Gervaise, I didn't say that. Never!" -</p> - -<p> -"You did say it, monsieur." -</p> - -<p> -"Never, never, never, Gervaise. My father made me take an oath like -Hannibal's to Hamilcar." -</p> - -<p> -"What was that?" -</p> - -<p> -"He made me swear to die a bachelor, like himself." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" cried Gervaise, summoning tears to the assistance of her words -with a woman's marvellous power of weeping to order, "oh! you're like -all the rest. Promises cost nothing, and when the poor girl is seduced -they forget what they promised. I will take my turn at swearing now, and -swear that I will never be caught again." -</p> - -<p> -"And you will do well, Gervaise," said the student. -</p> - -<p> -"When one thinks," cried the grisette, "that there are laws for robbers -and cut-purses, and none for the scoundrels who ruin poor girls!" -</p> - -<p> -"But there are, Gervaise." -</p> - -<p> -"There are?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, of course. Didn't I tell you that they sent poor Ascanio to the -Châtelet for seducing Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"They did well, too," said Gervaise, to whom the loss of her honor had -never presented itself so forcibly until she was fully convinced that -Jacques Aubry was determined not to give her his name by way of -compensation. "Yes, they did well, and I wish you were in the Châtelet -with him!" -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! that's all I ask," cried the student; "and as I told you, my -little Gervaise, I rely upon you to put me there." -</p> - -<p> -"You rely upon me." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Make sport of me, ingrate!" -</p> - -<p> -"I'm not making sport of you, Gervaise. I say that if you had the -courage—" -</p> - -<p> -"To do what?" -</p> - -<p> -"Accuse me before the judge." -</p> - -<p> -"Of what?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of having seduced you; but you would never dare." -</p> - -<p> -"What's that? I wouldn't dare," cried Gervaise in an injured -tone,—"I wouldn't dare to tell the truth!" -</p> - -<p> -"Consider that you would have to make oath to it, Gervaise." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll do it." -</p> - -<p> -"You will make oath that I seduced you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes,—a hundred times yes!" -</p> - -<p> -"Then all goes well," said the student joyfully. "I confess I was -afraid: an oath is a serious matter." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll take my oath to it this instant, and send you to the Châtelet, -monsieur." -</p> - -<p> -"Good!" -</p> - -<p> -"And you will find your Ascanio there." -</p> - -<p> -"Splendid!" -</p> - -<p> -"And you will have all the time you need to do penance together." -</p> - -<p> -"It's all that I ask." -</p> - -<p> -"Where is the lieutenant criminal?" -</p> - -<p> -"At the Palais de Justice." -</p> - -<p> -"I will go there at once." -</p> - -<p> -"Let us go together, Gervaise." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, together. In that way the punishment will follow at once." -</p> - -<p> -"Take my arm, Gervaise." -</p> - -<p> -"Come, monsieur." -</p> - -<p> -They set off toward the Palais de Justice at the same gait at which they -were accustomed to repair on Sundays to the Pré-aux-Clercs or the Butte -Montmartre. -</p> - -<p> -As they drew near the Temple of Themis, as Jacques Aubry poetically -called the edifice in question, Gervaise's pace slackened perceptibly. -When they reached the foot of the staircase, she had some difficulty in -ascending; and finally, at the door of the lieutenant criminal's -sanctum, her legs failed her altogether, and the student felt her whole -weight hanging upon his arm. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Gervaise," said he, "is your courage giving out?" -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Gervaise, "but a lieutenant criminal is an appalling -creature." -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu! he's a man like other men!" -</p> - -<p> -"True, but one must tell him things—" -</p> - -<p> -"Very well; tell them." -</p> - -<p> -"But I must swear." -</p> - -<p> -"Then swear." -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques," said Gervaise, "are you quite sure that you seduced me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Am I sure of it!" said Jacques. "Pardieu! Besides, didn't you just -insist upon it yourself that I did?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, that is true; but, strangely enough, I don't seem to see things -now in just the same light that I did a short time ago." -</p> - -<p> -"Come, come," said Jacques, "you are weakening already: I knew you -would." -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques, my dear," cried Gervaise, "take me back to the house." -</p> - -<p> -"Gervaise, Gervaise," said the student, "this isn't what you promised -me." -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques, I will never reproach you again, or say a word about it. I -loved you because you took my fancy, that's all." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas!" said the student, "this is what I feared; but it's too late." -</p> - -<p> -"How too late?" -</p> - -<p> -"You came here to accuse me, and accuse me you must." -</p> - -<p> -"Never, Jacques, never: you didn't seduce me, Jacques; I was a flirt." -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense!" cried the student. -</p> - -<p> -"Besides," added Gervaise, lowering her eyes, "one can be seduced but -once." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean?" -</p> - -<p> -"The first time one loves." -</p> - -<p> -"Hoity-toity! and you made me believe that you had never loved!" -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques, take me back to the house." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh indeed I won't!" said Jacques, exasperated by her refusal, and by -the reason she gave for it. "No! no! no!" -</p> - -<p> -And he knocked at the magistrate's door. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you doing?" cried Gervaise. -</p> - -<p> -"You see! I am knocking." -</p> - -<p> -"Come in!" cried a nasal voice. -</p> - -<p> -"I will not go in," exclaimed Gervaise, doing her utmost to release her -arm from the student's. "I will not go in!" -</p> - -<p> -"Come in," said the same voice a second time, a little more -emphatically. -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques, I will shriek, I will call for help," said Gervaise. -</p> - -<p> -"Come in, I say!" said the voice a third time, nearer at hand, and at -the same moment the door opened. -</p> - -<p> -"Well! what do you want?" said a tall thin man dressed in black, the -mere sight of whom made Gervaise tremble from head to foot. -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle here," said Aubry, "has come to enter complaint against a -knave who has seduced her." -</p> - -<p> -With that he pushed Gervaise into the black, filthy closet, which served -as an anteroom to the lieutenant criminal's office. The door closed -behind her as if by a spring. -</p> - -<p> -Gervaise gave a feeble shriek, half terror, half surprise, and sat down, -or rather fell, upon a stool which stood against the wall. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry, meanwhile, lest she should call him back, or run after -him, hurried away through corridors known only to law students and -advocates, until he reached the courtyard of Sainte-Chapelle; thence he -tranquilly pursued his way to Pont Saint-Michel, which it was absolutely -certain that Gervaise must cross. -</p> - -<p> -Half an hour later she appeared. -</p> - -<p> -"Well!" said he, running to meet her, "what happened?" -</p> - -<p> -"Alas!" said Gervaise, "you made me tell a monstrous lie; but I hope God -will forgive me for it in view of my good intention." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll take it upon myself," said Aubry. "Tell me what happened." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you fancy that I know?" said Gervaise. "I was so ashamed that I -hardly remember what it was all about. All I know is that the lieutenant -criminal questioned me, and that I answered his questions sometimes yes, -sometimes no: but I am not sure that I answered as I should." -</p> - -<p> -"Wretched girl!" cried Aubry, "I believe it will turn out that she -accused herself of seducing me." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no! I don't think I went as far as that." -</p> - -<p> -"At least they have my address, haven't they, so that they can summon -me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," murmured Gervaise, "I gave it to them." -</p> - -<p> -"It's all right then," said Aubry, "and now let us hope that God will do -the rest." -</p> - -<p> -Having escorted Gervaise to her abode and comforted her as best he could -for the false testimony she had been compelled to give, Jacques Aubry -returned home, overflowing with faith in Providence. -</p> - -<p> -In fact, whether Providence took a hand in it, or chance did it all, -Jacques Aubry received the next morning a summons to appear before the -lieutenant criminal that same day. -</p> - -<p> -This summons fulfilled Aubry's dearest hopes, and yet a court of justice -is so redoubtable a place that he felt a shiver run through his veins as -he read it. But we hasten to say that the certainty of seeing Ascanio -again, and the longing to save the friend upon whom he had brought -disaster, soon put an end to this demonstration of weakness on our -student's part. -</p> - -<p> -The summons fixed the hour of noon, and it was only nine o'clock: so he -called upon Gervaise, whom he found no less agitated than on the -previous day. -</p> - -<p> -"Well?" said she, inquiringly. -</p> - -<p> -"Well!" repeated Jacques triumphantly, exhibiting the paper covered with -hieroglyphics which he held in his hand. "Here it is." -</p> - -<p> -"For what hour?" -</p> - -<p> -"Noon. That's all I was able to read." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you don't know what you're accused of?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, of seducing you, my little Gervaise, I presume." -</p> - -<p> -"You won't forget that you yourself insisted upon my doing it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why no; I am ready to give you a certificate that you utterly refused -to do it." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you bear me no ill will for obeying you." -</p> - -<p> -"On the contrary, I couldn't be more grateful to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Whatever happens?" -</p> - -<p> -"Whatever happens." -</p> - -<p> -"If I did say all that, it was because I was obliged to." -</p> - -<p> -"Of course." -</p> - -<p> -"And if, in my confusion, I said more than I meant to say, you will -forgive me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not only will I forgive you, my dear, my divine Gervaise, but I do -forgive you now in advance." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" said Gervaise, with a sigh; "ah! bad boy, with such words as those -you turned my head!" -</p> - -<p> -From which it is easy to see that Gervaise had really been seduced. -</p> - -<p> -At a quarter before twelve Jacques Aubry remembered that his summons -bade him appear at twelve. He took leave of Gervaise, and as he had a -long distance to go he ran all the way. Twelve o'clock was striking as -he knocked at the lieutenant criminal's door. -</p> - -<p> -"Come in!" cried the same nasal voice. -</p> - -<p> -He was not called upon to repeat the invitation, for Jacques Aubry, with -a smile on his lips, his nose in the air, and his cap over his ear, at -once stood in the tall black-coated man's presence. -</p> - -<p> -"What is your name?" asked the tall man. -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques Aubry," replied the student. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Law student." -</p> - -<p> -"What have you been doing?" -</p> - -<p> -"Seducing girls." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! you're the man against whom a complaint was lodged yesterday -by—by—" -</p> - -<p> -"By Gervaise-Perrette Popinot." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good; sit down yonder and await your turn." -</p> - -<p> -Jacques sat down as the man in black bade him do, and waited. -</p> - -<p> -Five or six persons of varying age, sex, and feature were waiting like -himself, and as they had arrived before him their turns naturally came -before his. Some of them went out alone,—they were the ones, -doubtless, against whom no sufficient evidence was adduced,—while -others went out accompanied by an exempt, or by two of the provost's -guards. Jacques Aubry envied the fortune of these latter, for they were -being taken to the Châtelet, to which he was so anxious to be admitted. -</p> - -<p> -At last the name of Jacques Aubry, student, was called. Jacques Aubry -instantly rose and rushed into the magistrate's office as joyously as if -he were on his way to the most agreeable of entertainments. -</p> - -<p> -There were two men in the lieutenant criminal's sanctum; one taller, -thinner, and more forbidding than he in the antechamber, which Jacques -Aubry would have deemed impossible five minutes earlier: this was the -clerk. The other was short, fat, coarse, with a cheerful eye, a smiling -mouth, and a jovial expression generally: this was the magistrate. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry's smile and his met, and the student was quite ready to grasp his -hand, so strongly conscious was he of the existence of a bond of -sympathy between them. -</p> - -<p> -"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the lieutenant criminal, as he caught the -student's eye. -</p> - -<p> -"Faith, that is true, messire," the student rejoined. -</p> - -<p> -"You seem a jolly dog," said the magistrate. "Come, master knave, take a -chair and sit you down." -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry took a chair, sat down, threw one leg over the other and -swung it in high glee. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" exclaimed the lieutenant, rubbing his hands. "Master Clerk, let us -look over the complainant's deposition." -</p> - -<p> -The clerk rose, and, by virtue of his great height, readied over to the -other side of the table, and selected the documents concerning Jacques -Aubry from a pile of papers. -</p> - -<p> -"Here it is," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"Who lodges the complaint?" inquired the magistrate. -</p> - -<p> -"Gervaise-Perrette Popinot," said the clerk. -</p> - -<p> -"That's it," said the student, nodding his head violently; "that's the -one." -</p> - -<p> -"A minor," said the clerk; "nineteen years of age." -</p> - -<p> -"Oho! a minor!" exclaimed Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"So it appears from her declaration." -</p> - -<p> -"Poor Gervaise!" muttered Aubry. "She was quite right when she said that -she was so confused she didn't know what answers she made; she has -confessed to twenty-two. However, nineteen it is." -</p> - -<p> -"And so," said the lieutenant criminal, "and so, my buck, you are -charged with seducing a minor child. Ha! ha! ha!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ha! ha! ha!" echoed Aubry, joining in the judge's hilarity. -</p> - -<p> -"With aggravating circumstances," continued the clerk, mingling his -yelping tones with the jovial voices of the magistrate and the student. -</p> - -<p> -"With aggravating circumstances," repeated the former. -</p> - -<p> -"The devil!" exclaimed Jacques. "I should like very much to know what -they were." -</p> - -<p> -"As the complainant remained deaf to all the entreaties and wiles of the -accused for six months—" -</p> - -<p> -"For six months?" Jacques interposed. "Pardon, monsieur, I think there's -a mistake there." -</p> - -<p> -"For six months, monsieur, so it is written," replied the man in black, -in a tone which admitted no rejoinder. -</p> - -<p> -"So be it! six months it is," said Jacques; "but in truth Gervaise was -quite right when she said—" -</p> - -<p> -"The said Jacques Aubry, angered by her coldness, threatened her—" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Jacques. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! oh!" echoed the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"But," the clerk read on, "the said Gervaise-Perrette Popinot held out -so stubbornly and courageously that the insolent fellow begged her -forgiveness in view of his sincere repentance." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! ah!" muttered Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! ah!" exclaimed the magistrate. -</p> - -<p> -"Poor Gervaise!" Aubry continued, speaking to himself, with a shrug; -"what was the matter with her head?" -</p> - -<p> -"But," continued the clerk, "his repentance was only feigned; -unfortunately, the complainant, in her innocence and purity, allowed -herself to be deceived by it, and one evening, when she was imprudent -enough to accept refreshments of which the accused invited her to -partake, the said Jacques Aubry mixed with her water—" -</p> - -<p> -"With her water?" the student interrupted. -</p> - -<p> -"The complainant declared that she never drinks wine," said the -clerk.—"The said Jacques Aubry mixed an intoxicating decoction with -her water." -</p> - -<p> -"Look you, Master Clerk," cried Aubry; "what the deuce are you reading -from?" -</p> - -<p> -"The complainant's deposition." -</p> - -<p> -"Impossible!" -</p> - -<p> -"Is it so written?" inquired the magistrate. -</p> - -<p> -"It is written." -</p> - -<p> -"Go on." -</p> - -<p> -"After all," said Aubry aside, "the more guilty I am, the surer I shall -be of being sent to join Ascanio at the Châtelet. Intoxicating -decoction it is. Go on, Master Clerk." -</p> - -<p> -"You confess, do you?" queried the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"I confess," said the student. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, gallows-bird!" exclaimed the judge, roaring with laughter, and -rubbing his hands. -</p> - -<p> -"So that," continued the clerk, "poor Gervaise, bereft of her reason, -ended by confessing to her seducer that she loved him." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" said Jacques. -</p> - -<p> -"Lucky knave!" murmured the lieutenant criminal, whose little eyes -shone. -</p> - -<p> -"Why!" cried Aubry; "why, there isn't a word of truth in the whole of -it!" -</p> - -<p> -"You deny the charge?" -</p> - -<p> -"Absolutely." -</p> - -<p> -"Write," said the magistrate, "that the accused declares that he is not -guilty of any of the charges brought against him." -</p> - -<p> -"Wait a moment! wait a moment!" cried the student, who reflected that if -he denied his guilt, they would not send him to prison. -</p> - -<p> -"So you don't deny it altogether?" queried the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"I confess that there is some little truth, not in the form, but in the -substance." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! as you have confessed to the decoction," said the judge, "you may -as well admit the results." -</p> - -<p> -"True," said Jacques, "as I've confessed to the decoction, I admit the -rest, Master Clerk. But, upon my word," he added in an undertone, -"Gervaise was quite right in saying—" -</p> - -<p> -"But that's not all," the clerk interrupted him. -</p> - -<p> -"What! that's not all!" -</p> - -<p> -"The crime of which the accused was guilty had terrible results. The -unhappy Gervaise discovered that she was about to become a mother." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! that is too much!" cried Jacques. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you deny the paternity?" asked the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"Not only do I deny the paternity, but I deny the condition." -</p> - -<p> -"Write," said the judge, "that the accused denies the paternity, and -also denies the condition; an inquiry will be ordered on that point." -</p> - -<p> -"One moment, one moment!" cried Aubry, realizing that if Gervaise were -convicted of falsehood on a single point the whole structure would fall -to the ground: "did Gervaise really say what the clerk has read?" -</p> - -<p> -"She said it word for word," replied the clerk. -</p> - -<p> -"Then if she said it," continued Aubry, "if she said it—why—" -</p> - -<p> -"Well?" queried the lieutenant criminal. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, it must be so." -</p> - -<p> -"Write that the accused pleads guilty to all the charges." -</p> - -<p> -The clerk wrote as directed. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu!" said the student to himself, "if Ascanio deserves a week in -the Châtelet for simply paying court to Colombe, I, who have deceived -Gervaise, drugged her, and seduced her, can count upon three months' -incarceration at the very least. But, faith, I would like to be sure of -my facts. However, I must congratulate Gervaise. Peste! she kept to her -word, and Jeanne d'Arc was nowhere beside her." -</p> - -<p> -"So you confess to all the crimes you're accused of?" said the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"I do, messire," replied Jacques unhesitatingly; "I do: all of them and -more too, if you choose. I am a great sinner, Monsieur le Lieutenant -Criminel, don't spare me." -</p> - -<p> -"Impudent varlet!" muttered the magistrate, in the tone in which the -uncle of comedy speaks to his nephew, "impudent varlet, out upon you!" -</p> - -<p> -With that he let his great round head, with his bloated, purple face, -fall upon his breast, and reflected magisterially. -</p> - -<p> -"Whereas," he began, after meditating a few moments, raising his head, -and lifting the index finger of his right hand,—"write, Master -Clerk,—whereas Jacques Aubry, clerk of the Basoche, has pleaded -guilty to the charge of seducing one Gervaise-Perrette Popinot by fine -promises and simulated affection, we sentence said Jacques Aubry to pay -a fine of twenty Paris sous, to support the child, if it is a boy, and -to pay the costs." -</p> - -<p> -"And the imprisonment?" cried Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"Imprisonment! what do you mean?" asked the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, I mean the imprisonment. For Heaven's sake, aren't you going to -sentence me to prison?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"You're not going to order me committed to the Châtelet as Ascanio -was?" -</p> - -<p> -"Who's Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio is a pupil of Master Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"What did he do?" -</p> - -<p> -"He seduced a maid." -</p> - -<p> -"Who was she?" -</p> - -<p> -"Mademoiselle Colombe d'Estourville, daughter of the Provost of Paris." -</p> - -<p> -"What then?" -</p> - -<p> -"What then! why I say that it's unjust, when we both committed the same -crime, to make a distinction in the punishment. What! you send him to -prison and fine me twenty Paris sous! In God's name, is there no justice -in this world?" -</p> - -<p> -"On the contrary," rejoined the magistrate, "it is because there is -justice in this world, and enlightened justice too, that this is as it -is." -</p> - -<p> -"How so?" -</p> - -<p> -"There are honors and honors, my young rascal; the honor of a noble -maiden is valued at imprisonment; the honor of a grisette is worth -twenty Paris sous. If you want to go to the Châtelet, you must try your -arts on a duchess, and then the affair will take care of itself." -</p> - -<p> -"But this is frightful! immoral! outrageous!" cried the student. -</p> - -<p> -"My dear friend," said the judge, "pay your fine and begone!" -</p> - -<p> -"I won't pay my fine, and I won't go." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I shall call a couple of archers and commit you to prison until -you do pay it." -</p> - -<p> -"That's all I ask." -</p> - -<p> -The judge summoned two guards:— -</p> - -<p> -"Take this scoundrel to the Grands-Carmes!" -</p> - -<p> -"The Grands-Carmes!" cried Jacques; "why not the Châtelet, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because the Châtelet is not a debtor's prison, my friend; because the -Châtelet is a royal fortress, and one must have committed some heinous -crime to be sent there. The Châtelet! Ah! yes, my little fellow, you'll -get to the Châtelet soon enough, just wait!" -</p> - -<p> -"One moment," said Aubry, "one moment." -</p> - -<p> -"What is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"If I am not to be sent to the Châtelet, I will pay." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well; if you pay, there's nothing more to be said. You may go, you -fellows, the young man will pay." -</p> - -<p> -The archers went out and Jacques Aubry took from his wallet twenty Paris -sous, which he spread out in a line on the judge's desk. -</p> - -<p> -"See if that is right," said the lieutenant criminal. -</p> - -<p> -The clerk rose, and to execute the order bent his back like a how, -embracing in the half-circle described by his body, which seemed to -possess the power of lengthening itself out indefinitely, his table and -the papers which lay upon it. As he stood with his feet on the floor and -his hands on the judge's desk, he reminded one of a sombre-hued rainbow. -</p> - -<p> -"It is right," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"Then off with you, my young rascal," said the magistrate, "and give -place to others; the court has no more time to waste on you. Go." -</p> - -<p> -Jacques saw that he had nothing to gain by remaining there, and withdrew -in despair. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap13_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XIII -<br /><br /> -IN WHICH JACQUES AUBRY RISES TO EPIC<br /> -PROPORTIONS</h4> - -<p> -"Well, upon my word," said the student to himself as he left the Palais -de Justice, and mechanically crossed the Pont aux Moulins, which brought -him out almost opposite the Châtelet; "upon my word, I am curious to -know what Gervaise will say when she learns that her honor is valued at -twenty Paris sous! She will say that I have been indiscreet, and told -things I shouldn't have told, and she'll tear my eyes out. But what do -I see yonder?" -</p> - -<p> -What the student saw was a page belonging to the amiable nobleman to -whom he was accustomed to confide his secrets, and whom he looked upon -as one of his dearest friends. The boy was leaning up against the -parapet of the bridge and amusing himself by performing sleight-of-hand -tricks with pebbles. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu!" said the student, "this happens very fortunately. My friend, -whose name I don't know, and who seems to stand extremely well at court, -may have influence enough to have me committed to prison: Providence -sends his page to me to tell me where I can find him, as I know neither -his name nor his address." -</p> - -<p> -In order to avail himself of what he considered a direct interposition -of Providence in his behalf, Jacques Aubry advanced toward the young -page, who likewise recognized him, and, letting his three pebbles fall -into the same hand, crossed his legs and awaited the student with that -knowing look which is especially characteristic of the profession to -which he had the honor to belong. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Bon jour</i>, Monsieur le Page," cried Aubry from the most distant -point at which he thought the boy could hear his voice. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Bon jour</i>, Seigneur Student," was the reply; "what are you doing in -this quarter?" -</p> - -<p> -"Faith! if I must tell you, I was looking for something which I think I -have found, now that I see you; I was seeking the address of my -excellent friend, the comte—the baron—the vicomte—your -master's address." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you wish to see him?" asked the page. -</p> - -<p> -"Instantly, if possible." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case you will have your wish in a moment, for he is calling on -the provost." -</p> - -<p> -"At the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, he will come out directly." -</p> - -<p> -"He's very lucky to be admitted to the Châtelet when he wishes; but is -my friend the vicomte—the comte—the baron—" -</p> - -<p> -"Vicomte." -</p> - -<p> -"On intimate terms with Messire Robert d'Estourville? The Vicomte de— -Tell me," continued Aubry, anxious to avail himself of the opportunity -to learn his friend's name at last; "the Vicomte de—" -</p> - -<p> -"The Vicomte de Mar—" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" cried the student, interrupting the page in the middle of the -word, as he saw the man he sought appear at the door. "Ah! my dear -viscount, there you are. I was looking for you and waiting for you." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Bon jour</i>," said Marmagne, evidently but little pleased at the -meeting. "<i>Bon jour</i>, my dear fellow. I would be glad to talk with -you, but unfortunately I am very hurried. So adieu." -</p> - -<p> -"One moment, one moment," cried Jacques, clinging to his friend's arm; -"deuce take me! you won't leave me like this. In the first place I have -a very great favor to ask of you." -</p> - -<p> -"You?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I; and God's law, you know, bids friends to succor one another." -</p> - -<p> -"Friends?" -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure; aren't you my friend? What constitutes friendship? -Confidence. Now I am full of confidence in you. I tell you all my own -business, and other people's too." -</p> - -<p> -"Have you ever had occasion to repent of your confidence." -</p> - -<p> -"Never, so far as you are concerned at least; but it's not so with -everybody. There is one man in Paris that I am looking for, and with -God's help I shall meet him some day." -</p> - -<p> -"My dear fellow," interrupted Marmagne, who had a shrewd suspicion who -the man was, "I told you that I was much hurried." -</p> - -<p> -"But wait a moment, pray, when I tell you that you can do me a great -service." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, speak quickly." -</p> - -<p> -"You stand well at court, do you not?" -</p> - -<p> -"My friends say so." -</p> - -<p> -"You have some influence then?" -</p> - -<p> -"My enemies may discover it to their cost." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! Now my dear comte—my dear baron—my dear—" -</p> - -<p> -"Vicomte." -</p> - -<p> -"Help me to get into the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"In what capacity?" -</p> - -<p> -"As a prisoner." -</p> - -<p> -"As a prisoner? That's a singular ambition, on my word." -</p> - -<p> -"As you please, but it's my ambition." -</p> - -<p> -"For what purpose do you wish to be committed to the Châtelet?" queried -Marmagne, who suspected that this strange desire on the part of the -student indicated some new secret which it might be to his advantage to -know. -</p> - -<p> -"To any other than you I wouldn't tell it, my good friend," replied -Jacques; "or I have learned to my cost, or rather to poor Ascanio's, -that I must learn to hold my tongue. But with you it's a different -matter. You know that I have no secrets from you." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case tell me quickly." -</p> - -<p> -"Will you have me committed to the Châtelet if I tell you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Instantly." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, my friend, imagine that I was idiot enough to confide to others -than yourself the fact that I had seen a lovely girl in the head of the -statue of Mars." -</p> - -<p> -"What then?" -</p> - -<p> -"The crack-brained fools! would you believe that they spread the story -so that it came to the provost's ears; and as the provost had lost his -daughter some days before, he suspected that it was she who had selected -that hiding place. He notified D'Orbec and the Duchesse d'Etampes: they -came to the Hôtel de Nesle to make a domiciliary visit while Benvenuto -Cellini was at Fontainebleau. They carried off Colombe and imprisoned -Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense!" -</p> - -<p> -"It's as I tell you, my dear viscount. And who managed it all? A certain -Vicomte de Marmagne." -</p> - -<p> -"But," interposed the viscount, not at all pleased to hear his name upon -the student's lips, "you don't tell me why you want to be committed to -the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"You don't understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"They arrested Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"And took him to the Châtelet." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good." -</p> - -<p> -"But what they don't know, and what nobody knows save the Duchesse -d'Etampes, Benvenuto, and myself, is that Ascanio possesses a certain -letter, a certain secret, which places the duchess in his power. Now do -you understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes I begin to see light. But do you help me, my dear friend." -</p> - -<p> -"You see, viscount," continued Aubry, assuming a more and more -aristocratic air, "I want to be admitted to the Châtelet, get to -Ascanio's cell, take the letter or learn the secret, leave the prison -again, go to Benvenuto and arrange with him some method whereby -Colombe's virtue and Ascanio's love may triumph, to the confusion of the -Marmagnes and D'Orbecs, the provost, the Duchesse d'Etampes, and the -whole clique." -</p> - -<p> -"That's a very ingenious plan," said Marmagne. -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks for your confidence, my dear student. You shall have no reason -to regret it." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you promise me your assistance?" -</p> - -<p> -"To what end?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, to help me get committed to the Châtelet, as I asked you." -</p> - -<p> -"Rely upon me." -</p> - -<p> -"Immediately?" -</p> - -<p> -"Wait here for me." -</p> - -<p> -"Where I am?" -</p> - -<p> -"In this same spot." -</p> - -<p> -"And you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am going to get the order for your arrest." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, my friend, my dear baron, my dear count! But you must tell me your -name and address in case I may need you." -</p> - -<p> -"Useless. I will return at once." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, return as soon as possible; and if you chance to meet that -accursed Marmagne on the road, tell him—" -</p> - -<p> -"What?" -</p> - -<p> -"Tell him that I have sworn an oath that he shall die by no hand but -mine." -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu!" cried the viscount; "adieu, and wait here for me." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Au revoir!</i>" said Aubry. "I will expect you soon. Ah! you are a -friend indeed, a man one can trust, and I would be glad to know—" -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, Seigneur Student," said the page, who had stood aloof during -this conversation, and was now about to follow his master. -</p> - -<p> -"Adieu, my pretty page," said Aubry; "but before you leave me do me a -favor." -</p> - -<p> -"What is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Who is this gallant nobleman to whom you have the honor to belong?" -</p> - -<p> -"He whom you've been talking with for the last fifteen minutes?" -</p> - -<p> -"The same." -</p> - -<p> -"And whom you call friend?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"You don't know his name?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, he is—" -</p> - -<p> -"A very well known nobleman, is he not?" -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure." -</p> - -<p> -"And influential?" -</p> - -<p> -"Next to the king and the Duchesse d'Etampes, he's the man." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! and his name you say is—" -</p> - -<p> -"He is the Vicomte de—But he is turning back and calling me. -Pardon—" -</p> - -<p> -"The Vicomte de—" -</p> - -<p> -"The Vicomte de Marmagne." -</p> - -<p> -"Marmagne!" cried Aubry, "Vicomte de Marmagne! That young gentleman is -the Vicomte de Marmagne!" -</p> - -<p> -"Himself." -</p> - -<p> -"Marmagne! the friend of the provost and D'Orbec and Madame d'Etampes?" -</p> - -<p> -"In person." -</p> - -<p> -"And the enemy of Benvenuto Cellini?" -</p> - -<p> -"Just so." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" exclaimed Aubry, to whom the whole past was revealed as by a flash -of lightning. "Ah! I understand now. O Marmagne, Marmagne!" -</p> - -<p> -As the student was unarmed, with a movement as swift as thought, he -seized the page's short sword by the hilt, drew it from its sheath, and -darted in pursuit of Marmagne, shouting, "Halt!" -</p> - -<p> -At his first shout, Marmagne, decidedly ill at ease, looked around, and, -seeing Aubry rushing after him sword in hand, suspected that he was -discovered. To stand his ground or fly was therefore the only -alternative. Marmagne was not quite courageous enough to stand his -ground, nor was he quite enough of a coward to fly; he therefore adopted -the intermediate course of darting into a house, the door of which stood -open, hoping to close the door behind him. But unluckily for him it was -held fast to the wall by a chain which he could not detach, so that -Aubry, who was some little distance behind him, was in the little -courtyard before he had time to reach the staircase. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! Marmagne! you damned viscount! you infernal spy! you filcher of -secrets! it's you, is it? At last I know you, and have my hand on you! -On guard, villain! on guard!" -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur," replied Marmagne, trying to assume a lordly bearing, "do you -imagine that the Vicomte de Marmagne will honor the student Jacques -Aubry by crossing swords with him?" -</p> - -<p> -"If the Vicomte de Marmagne will not honor Jacques Aubry by crossing -swords with him, Jacques Aubry will have the honor of passing his sword -through the Vicomte de Marmagne's body." -</p> - -<p> -To leave no doubt in the mind of him to whom this threat was addressed, -Jacques Aubry placed the point of his sword against the viscount's -breast, and let him feel the touch of the cold steel through his -doublet. -</p> - -<p> -"Murder!" cried Marmagne. "Help! help!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, shout as much as you choose," retorted Jacques; "you will have done -shouting before any one comes. And so the best thing you can do, -viscount, is to defend yourself. On guard, viscount! on guard!" -</p> - -<p> -"If you will have it so," cried the viscount, "wait a bit, and you will -see!" -</p> - -<p> -Marmagne, as the reader will have discovered ere this, was not naturally -brave; but like all noblemen of that chivalrous epoch he had received a -military education; furthermore, he was reputed to have some skill in -fencing. It is true that this reputation was said to result rather in -enabling him to avoid unpleasant encounters which he might have had, -than in bringing to a fortunate conclusion those which he did have. It -is none the less true that, being closely pressed by Jacques, he drew -his sword and stood on guard in the most approved style of the art. -</p> - -<p> -But if Marmagne's skill was recognized among the noblemen at court, -Jacques Aubry's address was accepted as an incontestable fact among the -students at the University and the clerks of the Basoche. The result -was, that the moment their swords crossed each of the combatants saw -that he had to do with no despicable opponent. But Marmagne had one -great advantage; the page's sword, which Aubry had taken, was six inches -shorter than the viscount's; this was no great disadvantage in defensive -work, but became a serious matter when he wished to assume the -offensive. Furthermore, Marmagne was six inches taller than the student, -and being armed with a sword as much longer he had simply to present the -point at his face to keep him at a distance, while Jacques cut and -thrust and feinted to no purpose. Marmagne, without retreating a step, -got out of reach simply by drawing his right leg back beside the left. -The consequence was that, despite Aubry's agility, the viscount's long -sword grazed his chest several times, while he could succeed in cutting -nothing more substantial than the air, try as hard as he would. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry realized that he was lost if he continued to play the same game, -but in order to give his opponent no idea of the plan he proposed to -adopt, he continued to thrust and parry in the ordinary way, gaining -ground imperceptibly inch by inch; when he thought he was sufficiently -near he allowed himself to be caught off guard as if through -awkwardness. Marmagne, seeing an opening, made a lunge, but Aubry was -ready for him; he parried the blow, and, taking advantage of the -position of his opponent's sword, two inches above his head, darted -under it, leaped upon him, and thrust as he leaped, so cleverly and so -vigorously that the page's short sword disappeared up to the hilt in the -viscount's breast. -</p> - -<p> -Marmagne uttered one of those shrill cries, which indicate a severe -wound; his hand fell to his side, the blood left his cheeks, and he fell -headlong to the ground. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment the patrol came running up, attracted by Marmagne's -shrieks, the gestures of the page, and the sight of the crowd in front -of the door. As Aubry still held his bloody sword in his hand, they -arrested him. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry undertook at first to make some resistance; but as the leader of -the patrol shouted, "Disarm the villain and take him to the Châtelet," -he gave up his sword, and followed the guards to the prison to which he -was so anxious to gain admission, marvelling at the merciful decrees of -Providence, which accorded him at the same time the two things he most -desired,—vengeance upon Marmagne, and access to Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -This time no objection was made to his reception within the walls of the -royal fortress; but as it seemed that it was at the moment somewhat -overburdened with guests, there was a long discussion between the jailer -and the warden of the prison, as to where the new comer should be -lodged. At last the two worthies seemed to agree upon the point; the -jailer motioned to Aubry to follow him, led him down thirty-two steps, -opened a door, pushed him into a very dark dungeon, and closed the door -behind him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap14_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XIV -<br /><br /> -OF THE DIFFICULTY WHICH AN HONEST MAN EXPERIENCES<br /> -IN SECURING HIS RELEASE FROM PRISON</h4> - -<p> -The student stood for an instant blinded by the abrupt transition from -light to darkness. Where was he? He had no idea. Was he near Ascanio or -far from him? He knew not. In the corridor through which he had passed, -he had noticed but two other doors beside the one which was opened for -him. But his primary object was gained; he was under the same roof as -his friend. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, as he could not spend the rest of his life in that one spot, -and as he could see at the other end of the dungeon, about fifteen feet -away, a faint ray of light struggling in through an air-hole, he -cautiously put forth his leg, with the instinctive purpose of walking to -that spot; but at the second step that he took the floor seemed suddenly -to give way under his feet; he plunged down three or four stairs, and -would doubtless have gone head foremost against the wall had not his -feet come in contact with some object which tripped him up. The result -was that he escaped with nothing worse than a few bruises. -</p> - -<p> -The object which had unwittingly rendered him so important a service, -uttered a hollow groan. -</p> - -<p> -"I beg your pardon," said Jacques, rising and politely removing his cap. -"It seems that I stepped upon some person or some thing, a rudeness of -which I should never have been guilty, if I had been able to see -clearly." -</p> - -<p> -"You stepped," said a voice, "upon what was for sixty years a man, but -is soon to become a corpse for all eternity." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case," said Jacques, "my regret is all the greater for having -disturbed you at a moment when you were engaged doubtless, as every good -Christian should be at such a time, in settling your accounts with God." -</p> - -<p> -"My accounts are all settled, Master Student: I have sinned like a man, -but I have suffered like a martyr; and I hope that God, when weighing my -sins and my sorrows, will find that the sum of the latter exceeds that -of the former." -</p> - -<p> -"Amen!" said Aubry, "I hope so too with all my heart. But if it will not -fatigue you too much, my dear companion in adversity,—I say my dear -companion, because I presume you bear no malice on account of the little -accident which procured me the honor of your acquaintance a short time -since,—if it will not fatigue you too much, I say, pray tell me how -you succeeded in ascertaining that I am a student." -</p> - -<p> -"I knew it by your costume, and by the inkhorn hanging at your belt, in -the place where a gentleman carries his dagger." -</p> - -<p> -"You say you knew it by my costume,—by the inkhorn? Ah! my dear -companion, you told me, if I mistake not, that you are at the point of -death?" -</p> - -<p> -"I hope that I have at last reached the end of my sufferings: yes, I -hope to fall asleep to-day on earth, to wake to-morrow in heaven." -</p> - -<p> -"I in no wise dispute what you say," replied Jacques, "but I will -venture to remind you that your present situation is not one in which it -is customary to joke." -</p> - -<p> -"Who says that I am joking?" murmured the dying man with a deep sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"What! you say that you recognized me by my costume, by the inkhorn at -my belt, and I, look as hard as I may, cannot see my hands before my -face." -</p> - -<p> -"Possibly," rejoined the prisoner, "but when you have been fifteen years -in a dungeon as I have, you will be able to see in the darkness, as well -as you could see formerly in broad daylight." -</p> - -<p> -"May the devil tear my eyes out rather than make them serve such an -apprenticeship!" cried the student. "Fifteen years! you have been -fifteen years in prison?" -</p> - -<p> -"Fifteen or sixteen years, perhaps more, perhaps less. I long since -ceased to count days or to measure time." -</p> - -<p> -"You must have committed some abominable crime," cried the student, "to -have been punished so pitilessly." -</p> - -<p> -"I am innocent," replied the prisoner. -</p> - -<p> -"Innocent!" cried Jacques aghast. "Ah! my dear comrade, I have already -reminded you that this is no time for joking." -</p> - -<p> -"And I replied that I was not joking." -</p> - -<p> -"But still less is it a time for lying, for a joke is simply a -relaxation of the mind, which offends neither heaven nor earth, while -lying is a deadly sin, which compromises the soul's wellbeing." -</p> - -<p> -"I have never lied." -</p> - -<p> -"Why you say that you are innocent, and yet you have been fifteen years -in prison?" -</p> - -<p> -"Fifteen years more or less, I said." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" cried Jacques, "and I also am innocent!" -</p> - -<p> -"May God protect you then!" rejoined the dying man. -</p> - -<p> -"Why do you say that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because a guilty man may hope for pardon; an innocent man, never!" -</p> - -<p> -"What you say is very profound, my friend; but it's not consoling at -all, do you know?" -</p> - -<p> -"I tell you the truth." -</p> - -<p> -"Come," said Jacques, "come, you have some little peccadillo or other to -reproach yourself with, haven't you? Between ourselves, tell me about -it." -</p> - -<p> -With that Jacques, who was really beginning to distinguish objects in -the darkness, took a stool, carried it to the dying man's bedside, and, -selecting a spot where there was a recess in the wall, placed the stool -there and made himself as comfortable as possible in his improvised -arm-chair. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! you say nothing, my friend; you have no confidence in me. Oh, well! -I can understand that: fifteen years in prison may well have made you -suspicious. My name is Jacques Aubry. I am twenty-two years old, and a -student, as you have discovered,—according to what you say, at least. -I had certain reasons which concern myself alone, for getting myself -committed to the Châtelet; I have been here ten minutes; I have had the -honor of making your acquaintance. There's my whole life in a word, and -you know me now as well as I know myself. Now, my dear companion, I will -listen to you." -</p> - -<p> -"I am Etienne Raymond," said the prisoner. -</p> - -<p> -"Etienne Raymond," the student repeated; "I don't know that name." -</p> - -<p> -"In the first place," said the prisoner, "you were a child when it -pleased God to have me disappear from the world: in the next place, I -was of little consequence in the world, so that no one noticed my -absence." -</p> - -<p> -"But what did you do? Who were you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was the Connétable de Bourbon's confidential servant." -</p> - -<p> -"Oho! and you had a share with him in betraying the state. In that case -I am no longer surprised." -</p> - -<p> -"No; I refused to betray my master, that was all." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me about it; how did it happen?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was at the constable's hôtel in Paris, while he was living at his -château of Bourbon-l'Archambault. One day the captain of his guards -arrived with a letter from monseigneur. The letter bade me instantly -hand to the messenger a small sealed package which I would find in the -duke's bedroom in a small closet near the head of his bed. I went with -the captain to the bedroom, opened the closet, found the package in the -place described, and handed it to the messenger, who immediately took -his leave. An hour later an officer with a squad of soldiers came from -the Louvre, and bade me throw open the duke's bedroom and show them a -small closet near the head of the bed. I obeyed: they opened the closet, -but failed to find what they sought, which was nothing less than the -package the duke's messenger had carried away." -</p> - -<p> -"The devil! the devil!" muttered Aubry, beginning to take a deep -interest in the situation of his companion in misfortune. -</p> - -<p> -"The officer made some terrible threats, to which I made no other reply -than that I knew nothing about what he asked me; for if I had said that -I had just handed the package to the duke's messenger, they could have -pursued him and taken it from him." -</p> - -<p> -"Peste!" Aubry interrupted; "that was clever of you, and you acted like -a faithful and trusty retainer." -</p> - -<p> -"Thereupon the officer gave me in charge to two guards, and returned to -the Louvre with the others. In half an hour he returned with orders to -take me to the château of Pierre-Encise at Lyons. They put irons on my -feet, bound my hands, and tossed me into a carriage with a soldier on -either side. Five days later I was confined in a prison, which, I ought -to say, was far from being as dark and severe as this. But what does -that matter?" muttered the dying man; "a prison 's a prison, and I have -ended by becoming accustomed to this, as to all the others." -</p> - -<p> -"Hum!" said Jacques Aubry; "that proves you to be a philosopher." -</p> - -<p> -"Three days and three nights passed," continued Etienne Raymond; "at -last, during the fourth night, I was awakened by a slight noise. I -opened my eyes; my door turned upon its hinges; a woman closely veiled -entered with the jailer. The jailer placed a lamp upon the table, and, -at a sign from my nocturnal visitor, left the cell; thereupon she drew -near my bed and raised her veil. I cried aloud." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Hein</i>? who was it, pray?" Aubry asked, edging closer to the -narrator. -</p> - -<p> -"It was Louise of Savoy herself, the Duchesse d'Angoulême in person; it -was the Regent of France, the king's mother." -</p> - -<p> -"Oho!" said Aubry; "and what was she doing with a poor devil like you?" -</p> - -<p> -"She was in quest of the same sealed package which I had delivered to -the duke's messenger, and which contained love letters written by the -imprudent princess to the man she was now persecuting." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, upon my word!" muttered Jacques between his teeth, "here's a -story most devilishly like the story of the Duchesse d'Etampes and -Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! the stories of all frivolous, love-sick princesses resemble one -another," replied the prisoner, whose ears seemed to be as quick as his -eyes were piercing; "but woe to the poor devils who happen to be -involved in them!" -</p> - -<p> -"Stay a moment! stay a moment, prophet of evil!" cried Aubry; "what the -devil's that you're saying? I too am involved in the story of a -frivolous, love-sick princess." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well; if that is so, say farewell to the light of day, say -farewell to life." -</p> - -<p> -"Go to the devil with your predictions of the other world! What's all -that to me? I'm not the one she loves, but Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Was it I that the regent loved?" retorted the prisoner. "Was it I, -whose very existence they had never heard of? No, but I was placed -between a barren love and a fruitful vengeance, and when they came -together I was the one to be crushed." -</p> - -<p> -"By Mahomet's belly! you are not very encouraging, my good man!" cried -Aubry. "But let us return to the princess, for your narrative interests -me beyond measure, just because it makes me tremble." -</p> - -<p> -"The packet contained letters which she wanted, as I have told you. In -exchange for them she promised me honors, dignities, titles; to see -those letters again she would have extorted four hundred thousand crowns -anew from another Semblançay, though he should pay for his complaisance -on the scaffold. -</p> - -<p> -"I replied that I hadn't the letters, that I knew nothing about them, -that I had no idea what she meant. -</p> - -<p> -"Thereupon her munificent offers were succeeded by threats; but she -found it no easier to intimidate than to bribe me, for I had told the -truth. I had delivered the letters to my noble master's messenger. -</p> - -<p> -"She left my cell in a furious rage, and for a year I heard nothing -more. At the end of a year she returned, and the same scene was -repeated. -</p> - -<p> -"At that time I begged, I implored her to let me go free. I adjured her -in the name of my wife and children; but to no purpose. I must give up -the letters or die in prison. -</p> - -<p> -"One day I found a file in my bread. -</p> - -<p> -"My noble master had remembered me; absent, exiled, a fugitive as he -was, of course he could not set me free by entreaty or by force. He sent -one of his servants to France, who induced the jailer to hand me the -file, telling me whence it came. -</p> - -<p> -"I filed through one of the bars at my window. I made myself a rope with -my sheets. I descended by the rope, but when I came to the end of it I -felt in vain for the ground with my feet. I dropped, with God's name -upon my lips, and broke my leg in the fall; a night patrol found me -unconscious. -</p> - -<p> -"I was thereupon transferred to the château of Chalons-sur-Saône. I -remained there about two years, at the end of which time my persecutress -made her appearance again. It was still the letters that brought her -thither. This time she was accompanied by the torturer, and I was put to -the question. This was useless barbarity, as she obtained no -information,—indeed, she could obtain none. I knew nothing save that -I had delivered the letters to the duke's messenger. -</p> - -<p> -"One day at the bottom of my jug of water I found a bag filled with -gold; once more my noble master bethought himself of his poor servant. -</p> - -<p> -"I bribed a turnkey, or rather the miserable creature pretended to be -bribed. At midnight he opened the door of my cell, and I went out. I -followed him through several corridors; I could already feel the air -that living men breathe, and thought that I was free, when guards rushed -out upon us and bound us both. My guide had pretended to yield to my -entreaties in order to get possession of the gold he had seen in my -hands, and then betrayed me to earn the reward offered to informers. -</p> - -<p> -"They brought me to the Châtelet, to this cell. -</p> - -<p> -"Here, for the last time, Louise of Savoy appeared; she was accompanied -by the executioner. -</p> - -<p> -"The prospect of death could have no other effect than the promises, -threats, and torture. My hands were bound; a rope was passed through a -ring and placed around my neck. I made the same reply as always to her -demands, adding that she would fulfil my dearest wish by putting me to -death, for I was driven to despair by my life of captivity. -</p> - -<p> -"It was that feeling, doubtless, which made her hold her hand. She went -out and the executioner followed her. -</p> - -<p> -"Since then I have never seen her. What has become of my noble master? -What has become of the cruel duchess? I have no idea, for since that -time, some fifteen years perhaps, I have not exchanged a single word -with a single living being." -</p> - -<p> -"They are both dead," said Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"Both dead! the noble-hearted duke is dead! Why, he would still be a -young man, not more than fifty-two. How did he die?" -</p> - -<p> -"He was killed at the siege of Rome, and probably—" Jacques was -about to add, "by one of my friends," but he refrained, thinking that -might cause a coolness between the old man and himself. Jacques, as we -know, was becoming very discreet. -</p> - -<p> -"Probably?" the prisoner repeated. -</p> - -<p> -"By a goldsmith named Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"Twenty years ago I would have cursed the murderer: to-day I say from -the bottom of my heart, 'May his murderer be blessed!' Did they give my -noble lord a burial worthy of the man?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think so: they built a tomb for him in the cathedral of Gaeta, and -upon the tomb is an epitaph wherein it is said that, beside him who -sleeps there, Alexander the Great was a sorry knave, and Cæsar an idle -blackguard." -</p> - -<p> -"And the other?" -</p> - -<p> -"What other?" -</p> - -<p> -"The woman who persecuted me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Dead also: dead nine years since." -</p> - -<p> -"Just so. One night, here in my cell, I saw a phantom kneeling and -praying. I cried out and it disappeared. It was she asking my -forgiveness." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think, then, that when death came upon her she relented?" -</p> - -<p> -"I trust so, for her soul's sake." -</p> - -<p> -"But in that case they should have set you free." -</p> - -<p> -"She may have requested it, but I am of so little importance that I was -probably forgotten in the excitement of that great catastrophe." -</p> - -<p> -"And so you would likewise forgive her, as you are about to die?" -</p> - -<p> -"Lift me up, young man, that I may pray for both of them." And the dying -man, resting in Jacques Aubry's arms, coupled the names of his protector -and persecutress in the same prayer: the man who had remembered him in -his affection and the woman who had never forgotten him in her -hatred,—the constable and the regent. -</p> - -<p> -The prisoner was right. Jacques Aubry's eyes began to become accustomed -to the darkness, and he could make out the dying man's features. He was -a handsome old man, much emaciated by suffering, with a white beard and -a bald head,—such a head as Domenichino dreamed of when painting his -Confession of Saint-Jerome. -</p> - -<p> -When his prayer was finished, he heaved a deep sigh, and fell back upon -the bed; he had swooned. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques thought that he was dead. He ran to the water-jug, however, -poured some water in the hollow of his hand, and shook it over his face. -The dying man returned to life once more. -</p> - -<p> -"You did well to revive me, young man," said he, "and here is your -reward." -</p> - -<p> -"What is that?" -</p> - -<p> -"A dagger." -</p> - -<p> -"A dagger! how did it come into your hands?" -</p> - -<p> -"Wait one moment. One day, when the turnkey brought my bread and water, -he put the lamp upon the stool which happened to be standing near the -wall. In the wall at that point was a protruding stone, and I saw some -letters cut with a knife upon it. I hadn't time to read them. But I dug -up some earth with my hands, moistened it so as to make a sort of paste, -and took an impression of the letters, which formed the word <i>Ultor</i>. -</p> - -<p> -"What was the significance of that word, which means avenger? I returned -to the stone. I tried to shake it. It moved like a tooth in its socket. -By dint of patience and persistent efforts I succeeded in removing it -from the wall. I immediately plunged my hand into the hole, and found -this dagger. -</p> - -<p> -"Thereupon the longing for liberty, which I had almost lost, returned to -me in full force; I resolved to dig a passage-way from this to some -dungeon near at hand with the dagger, and there concoct some plan of -escape with its occupant. Besides, even if it all ended in failure, the -digging and cutting was something to occupy my time; and when you have -spent twenty years in a dungeon as I have, young man, you will realize -what a formidable enemy time is." -</p> - -<p> -Aubry shuddered from head to foot. "Did you ever put your plan in -execution?" he inquired. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, and more easily than I anticipated. After the twelve or fifteen -years that I have been here, they have doubtless ceased to think of my -escape as a possibility: indeed, it's very likely that they no longer -know who I am. They keep me, as they keep the chain hanging from yonder -ring. The constable and the regent are dead, and they alone remembered -me. Who would now recognize the name of Etienne Raymond, even in this -place, if I should pronounce it? No one." -</p> - -<p> -Aubry felt the perspiration starting from every pore as he thought of -the oblivion into which this lost existence had fallen. -</p> - -<p> -"Well?" he exclaimed questioningly,—"well?" -</p> - -<p> -"For more than a year," said the old man, "I dug and dug, and I -succeeded in making a hole under the wall large enough for a man to pass -through." -</p> - -<p> -"But what did you do with the dirt you took from the hole?" -</p> - -<p> -"I strewed it over the floor of my cell, and trod it in by constantly -walking upon it." -</p> - -<p> -"Where is the hole?" -</p> - -<p> -"Under my bed. For fifteen years no one has ever thought of moving it. -The jailer came down into my cell only once a day. When he had gone, and -the doors were closed, and the sound of his footsteps had died away, I -would draw out my bed and set to work; when the time for his visit drew -near, I would move the bed back to its place, and lie down upon it. -</p> - -<p> -"Day before yesterday I lay down upon it never to rise again. I was at -the end of my strength: to-day I am at the end of my life. You are most -welcome, young man: you shall assist me to die, and I will make you my -heir." -</p> - -<p> -"Your heir!" said Aubry in amazement. -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure. I will leave you this dagger. You smile. What more precious -heritage could a prisoner leave you? This dagger is freedom, perhaps." -</p> - -<p> -"You are right," said Aubry, "and I thank you. Whither does this hole -that you have dug lead?" -</p> - -<p> -"I had not reached the other end, but I was very near it. Day before -yesterday I heard voices in the cell beside this." -</p> - -<p> -"The devil!" said Aubry, "and you think—" -</p> - -<p> -"I think that you will have finished my work in a very few hours." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks," said Aubry, "thanks." -</p> - -<p> -"And now, a priest. I would much like to see a priest," said the -moribund. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait, father, wait," said Aubry; "it is impossible that they would -refuse such a request from a dying man." -</p> - -<p> -He ran to the door, this time without stumbling, his eyes being somewhat -accustomed to the darkness, and knocked with feet and hands both. -</p> - -<p> -A turnkey came down. -</p> - -<p> -"What's the matter, that you make such an uproar?" he demanded, "what do -you want?" -</p> - -<p> -"The old man here with me is dying," said Aubry, "and asks for a priest: -can you refuse?" -</p> - -<p> -"Hum!" grumbled the jailer, "I don't know why these fellows must all -want priests. It's all right: we'll send him one." -</p> - -<p> -Ten minutes later the priest appeared, carrying the viaticum and -preceded by two sacristans, one with the crucifix, the other with the -bell. -</p> - -<p> -A solemn and impressive spectacle was the confession of this martyr, who -had naught to disclose but the crimes of others, and who prayed for his -enemies instead of asking pardon for himself. -</p> - -<p> -Unimaginative as was Jacques Aubry, he fell upon his knees, and -remembered the prayers of his childhood, which he thought he had -forgotten. -</p> - -<p> -When the prisoner had finished his confession, the priest bowed before -him and asked his blessing. -</p> - -<p> -The old man's face lighted up with a smile as radiant as the smile of -God's elect; he extended one hand over the priest's head and the other -toward Aubry, drew a deep breath, and fell back upon his pillow. That -breath was his last. -</p> - -<p> -The priest went out as he had come, attended by his subordinates, and -the dungeon, lighted for a moment by the flickering flame of the -candles, became dark once more. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry was alone with the dead. It was a very depressing -situation, especially in the light of the reflections to which it gave -rise. The man who lay lifeless before him had been consigned to prison -an innocent man, had remained there twenty years, and went out at last -only because Death, the great liberator, came in search of him. -</p> - -<p> -The light-hearted student could not recognize himself: for the first -time he found himself confronted by stern reality; for the first time he -looked in the face the bewildering vicissitudes of life, and the calm -profundity of death. -</p> - -<p> -Then a selfish thought began to take shape in his heart. He thought of -himself, innocent like the dead man, and like him involved in the -complications of one of those royal passions which crush and consume and -destroy a life. Ascanio and he might disappear, as Etienne Raymond had -disappeared, who would think of them? -</p> - -<p> -Gervaise perhaps, Benvenuto Cellini certainly. -</p> - -<p> -But the former could do nothing but weep; and the other confessed his -own powerlessness when he cried so loudly for the letter in Ascanio's -possession. -</p> - -<p> -His only chance of safety, his only hope, lay in the heritage of the -dead man, an old dagger, which had already disappointed the expectations -of its two former owners. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry had hidden the dagger in his breast, and he nervously put -his hand upon the hilt to make sure that it was still there. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment the door opened, and men came in to remove the body. -</p> - -<p> -"When shall you bring me my dinner?" Jacques asked. "I am hungry." -</p> - -<p> -"In two hours," the jailer replied. -</p> - -<p> -With that the student was left alone in the cell. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap15_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XV -<br /><br /> -AN HONEST THEFT</h4> - -<p> -Aubrey passed the two hours sitting upon his stool, without once moving: -his mind was so active that it kept his body at rest. -</p> - -<p> -At the appointed hour the turnkey came down, renewed the water, and -changed the bread; this was what, in Châtelet parlance, was called a -dinner. -</p> - -<p> -The student remembered what the dying man told him, that the door of his -cell would be opened but once in the twenty-four hours; however he still -remained for a long while in the same place, absolutely motionless, -fearing lest the event that had just occurred should cause some change -in the routine of the prison. -</p> - -<p> -He soon observed, through his air-hole, that it was beginning to grow -dark. The day just passed had been a well filled day for him. In the -morning, the examination by the magistrate; at noon, the duel with -Marmagne; at one o'clock, lodged in prison; at three, the prisoner's -death; and now his first attempts at securing his freedom. -</p> - -<p> -A man does not pass many such days in his life. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry rose at last, and walked to the door to listen for -footsteps: then, in order that the dirt and the wall might leave no -marks upon his doublet, he removed that portion of his costume, pulled -the bed away from the corner, and found the opening of which his -companion had spoken. -</p> - -<p> -He crawled like a snake into the narrow gallery, which was some eight -feet deep, and which, after making a dip under the partition wall, -ascended on the other side. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as he plunged his dagger into the earth he knew by the sound -that he would very soon accomplish his purpose, which was to open a -passage into some place or other. What that place would be only a -sorcerer could have told. -</p> - -<p> -He kept actively at work, making as little noise as possible. From time -to time he went out of the excavation as a miner does, in order to -scatter the loose earth about the floor of his cell; otherwise it would -eventually have blocked up the gallery; then he would crawl back, and -set to work once more. -</p> - -<p> -While Aubrey was working, Ascanio was thinking sadly of Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -He too, as we have said, had been taken to the Châtelet; he too had -been cast into a dungeon. But, it may have been by chance, it may have -been at the duchess's suggestion, his quarters were a little less bare, -consequently a little more habitable, than the student's. -</p> - -<p> -But what did Ascanio care for a little more or a little less comfort. -His dungeon was a dungeon all the same; his captivity a separation. He -had not Colombe, who was more to him than light, or liberty, or life. -Were Colombe with him in his dungeon, the dungeon would become an abode -of bliss, a palace of enchantment. -</p> - -<p> -The poor child had been so happy during the days immediately preceding -his arrest! Thinking of his beloved by day, and sitting by her side at -night, he had never thought that his happiness might some day come to an -end. And if, sometimes, in the midst of his felicity, the iron hand of -doubt had clutched his heart, he had, like one threatened by danger from -some unknown source, promptly put aside all uneasiness concerning the -future that he might lose none of his present bliss. -</p> - -<p> -And now he was in prison, alone, far from Colombe, who was perhaps -imprisoned like himself, perhaps a prisoner in some convent, whence she -could escape in no other way than by going to the chapel, where the -husband whom they sought to force upon her awaited her. -</p> - -<p> -Two redoubtable passions were standing guard at their cell doors; the -love of Madame d'Etampes at Ascanio's, the ambition of Comte d'Orbec at -Colombe's. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as he was alone in his dungeon, therefore, Ascanio became very -sad and down-hearted; his was one of those clinging natures which need -the support of some robust organization; he was one of those slender, -graceful flowers, which bend before the first breath of the tempest, and -straighten up again only in the vivifying rays of the sun. -</p> - -<p> -Had Benvenuto been in his place, his first thought would have been to -examine the doors, sound the walls, and stamp upon the floor, to see if -one or the other would not afford his quick and combative mind some -possible means of escape. But Ascanio sat down upon his bed, let his -head fall upon his breast, and whispered Colombe's name. It never -occurred to him that one could escape by any possible means from a -dungeon behind three iron doors and surrounded by walls six feet thick. -</p> - -<p> -The dungeon was, as we have said, a little less bare and a little more -habitable than that assigned to Jacques. It contained a bed, a table, -two chairs, and an old rush mat. Furthermore, a lamp was burning upon a -stone projection, doubtless arranged for that purpose. Beyond question -it was a cell set apart for privileged prisoners. -</p> - -<p> -There was also a great difference in the matter of food: instead of the -bread and water which was brought to the student once a day, Ascanio -enjoyed two daily repasts, a privilege somewhat neutralized by the -consequent necessity of seeing the jailer twice in the twenty-four -hours. These repasts, it should be said to the credit of the -philanthropic administration of the Châtelet, were not altogether -execrable. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio thought but little of such paltry details: his was one of those -delicate feminine organizations which seem to exist on perfume and dew. -Without awaking from his reverie he ate a hit of bread, drank a few -drops of wine, and continued to think of Colombe and of Benvenuto -Cellini; of Colombe as of her to whom all his love was given, of Cellini -as of him in whom lay all his hope. -</p> - -<p> -Indeed, up to that moment Ascanio had never been concerned with any of -the cares or details of existence. Benvenuto lived for both, and Ascanio -was content to breathe, to dream of some lovely work of art, and to love -Colombe. He was like the fruit which grows upon a sturdy tree, and draws -all its life from the tree. -</p> - -<p> -And even now, perilous as was his situation, if he could have seen -Benvenuto Cellini at the moment of his arrest, or at the moment of his -incarceration, and Benvenuto had said to him, with a warm grasp of his -hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Have no fear, Ascanio, for I am watching over you and Colombe," his -confidence in the master was so great that, relying upon that promise -alone, he would have waited without anxiety for the prison doors to be -thrown open, sure that thrown open they would be, in spite of bars and -locks. -</p> - -<p> -But he had not seen Benvenuto, and Benvenuto did not know that his -cherished pupil, the son of his Stefana, was a prisoner. It would have -taken a whole day to carry the intelligence to him at Fontainebleau, -assuming that it had occurred to any one to do it, another day to return -to Paris, and in two days the enemies of the lovers might gain a long -lead upon their defender. -</p> - -<p> -So it was that Ascanio passed the rest of the day and the whole of the -night following his arrest without sleep, sometimes pacing back and -forth in his cell, sometimes sitting down, and occasionally throwing -himself upon the bed, which was provided with white sheets,—a special -mark of favor which proved that Ascanio had been particularly commended -to the attention of the authorities. During that day and night and the -following morning nothing worthy of note occurred, unless it was the -regular visit of the jailer to bring his food. -</p> - -<p> -About two o'clock in the afternoon, as nearly as the prisoner could -judge by his reckoning of the time, he thought that he heard voices near -at hand: it was a dull, indistinct murmur, but evidently caused by the -vocal organs of human beings. Ascanio listened and walked toward the -point whence the sound seemed to come; it was at one of the corners of -his cell. He silently put his ear to the wall and to the ground, and -found that the voices apparently came from beneath the floor. -</p> - -<p> -It was evident that he had neighbors who were separated from him only by -a thin partition or an equally thin floor. After some two hours the -sounds ceased, and all was still once more. -</p> - -<p> -Toward night the noise began again, but this time it was of a different -nature. It was not that which would be made by two persons speaking -together, but consisted of dull, hurried blows as of some one cutting -stone. It came from the same place, did not cease for a second, and -seemed to come nearer and nearer. -</p> - -<p> -Absorbed as Ascanio was in his own thoughts, this noise seemed to him -deserving of some attention none the less, so he sat with his eyes glued -to the spot whence it came. He judged that it must be near midnight, but -he did not once think of sleeping, notwithstanding that he had not slept -for so many hours. -</p> - -<p> -The noise continued: as it was long past the usual hour for work, it was -evidently some prisoner seeking to escape. Ascanio smiled sadly at the -thought that the poor devil, who would think for a moment, mayhap, that -he was at liberty, would find that he had simply changed his cell. -</p> - -<p> -At last the noise approached so near that Ascanio ran and seized his -lamp, and returned with it to the corner; almost at the same moment the -earth rose up in that spot, and as it fell away disclosed a human head. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio uttered an exclamation of wonder, followed by a cry of joy, to -which a no less delighted cry made answer. The head belonged to Jacques -Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -In an instant, thanks to the assistance rendered by Ascanio to the -unexpected visitor who made his appearance in such extraordinary -fashion, the two friends were in one another's arms. -</p> - -<p> -As will readily be conceived, the first questions and answers were -somewhat incoherent; but at last, after exchanging a few disconnected -exclamations, they succeeded in restoring some semblance of order to -their thoughts, and in casting some light upon recent events. Ascanio to -be sure had almost nothing to say, and everything to learn. -</p> - -<p> -Eventually Aubry told him the whole story: how he had returned to the -Hôtel de Nesle simultaneously with Benvenuto; how they had learned -almost at the same moment of the arrest of Ascanio and the abduction of -Colombe; how Benvenuto had rushed off to his studio like a madman, -shouting, "To the casting! to the casting!" and he, Aubry, to the -Châtelet. Of what had taken place at the Hôtel de Nesle since that -time the student could tell him nothing. -</p> - -<p> -But to the general narrative of the Iliad succeeded the private -adventures of Ulysses. Aubry described to Ascanio his disappointment at -his failure to get committed to prison; his visit to Gervaise, and her -denunciation of him to the lieutenant criminal; his terrible -examination, which had no other result than the paltry fine of twenty -Paris sous, a result most insulting to the honor of Gervaise; and -finally his encounter with Marmagne just as he was beginning to despair -of procuring his own incarceration. From that point he related -everything that had happened to him up to the moment when, utterly in -the dark as to what cell he was about to enter, he had thrust his head -through the last crust of earth, and discerned by the light of his lamp -his friend Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -Whereupon the friends once more embraced with great heartiness. -</p> - -<p> -"Now," said Jacques Aubry, "listen to me, Ascanio, for there is no time -to lose." -</p> - -<p> -"But first of all," said Ascanio, "tell me of Colombe. Where is -Colombe?" -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe? I can't tell you. With Madame d'Etampes, I think." -</p> - -<p> -"With Madame d'Etampes!" cried Ascanio,—"her rival!" -</p> - -<p> -"So what they say of the duchess's love for you is true, is it?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio blushed and stammered some unintelligible words. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you needn't blush for that!" cried Aubry. "Deuce take me! a -duchess! and a duchess who's the king's mistress at that! I should never -have any such luck. But let us come back to business." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said Ascanio, "let us come back to Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"Bah! I'm not talking about Colombe. I'm talking about a letter." -</p> - -<p> -"What letter?" -</p> - -<p> -"A letter the Duchesse d'Etampes wrote you." -</p> - -<p> -"Who told you that I have a letter from the Duchesse d'Etampes in my -possession?" -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto Cellini." -</p> - -<p> -"Why did he tell you that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because he must have that letter, because it is absolutely essential -that he should have it, because I agreed to take it to him, because all -I have done was done to get possession of that letter." -</p> - -<p> -"But for what purpose does Benvenuto want the letter?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! faith, I've no idea, and it doesn't concern me. He said to me, 'I -must have that letter.' I said to him, 'Very good, I will get it for -you.' I have had myself put in prison in order to get it; so give it me, -and I agree to deliver it to Benvenuto. Well, what's the matter?" -</p> - -<p> -This last question was induced by the cloud which spread over Ascanio's -face. -</p> - -<p> -"The matter is, my poor Aubry," said he, "that your trouble is thrown -away." -</p> - -<p> -"How so?" cried Aubry. "Haven't you the letter still?" -</p> - -<p> -"It is here," said Ascanio, placing his hand upon the pocket of his -doublet. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! that's well. Give it to me, and I will take it to Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"That letter will never leave me, Jacques." -</p> - -<p> -"Why so?" -</p> - -<p> -"Because I don't know what use Benvenuto proposes to make of it." -</p> - -<p> -"He means to use it to save you." -</p> - -<p> -"And to crush the Duchesse d'Etampes, it may be. Aubry, I will not help -to ruin a woman." -</p> - -<p> -"But this woman seeks to ruin you. This woman detests you: no, I am -wrong, she adores you." -</p> - -<p> -"And you would have me, in return for that feeling—" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, it's exactly the same as if she hated you since you don't love -her. Besides, it's she who has done all this." -</p> - -<p> -"What! she who has done it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, yes, it was she who caused your arrest, and carried off Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"Who told you that?" -</p> - -<p> -"No one; but who else could it have been?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why the provost, or D'Orbec, or Marmagne, to whom you admit that you -told the whole story." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio! Ascanio!" cried Jacques in despair, "you are destroying -yourself!" -</p> - -<p> -"I prefer to destroy myself, rather than do a dastardly deed, Aubry." -</p> - -<p> -"But this is no dastardly deed, for Benvenuto is the one who undertakes -to do it." -</p> - -<p> -"Listen to me, Aubry," said Ascanio, "and don't be angry at what I say. -If Benvenuto stood in your place, and should say to me, 'It was Madame -d'Etampes, your enemy, who caused your arrest, who carried off Colombe, -who now has her in her power and intends to force her to do what she -does not wish to do,—I cannot save Colombe unless I have that -letter,'—I would make him swear that he would not show it to the -king, and then I would give it to him. But Benvenuto is not here, and I -am not certain that it is the duchess who is persecuting me. This letter -would not be safe in your hands, Aubry: forgive me, but you yourself -admit that you are an arrant chatterbox." -</p> - -<p> -"I promise you, Ascanio, that the day I have just passed has aged me ten -years." -</p> - -<p> -"You may lose the letter, or, with the best intentions, I know, make an -injudicious use of it, Aubry, so the letter will remain where it is." -</p> - -<p> -"But, my dear fellow," cried Jacques, "remember that Benvenuto himself -said that nothing but this letter can save you." -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto will save me without that, Aubry; Benvenuto has the king's -word that he will grant him whatever favor he asks on the day that his -Jupiter is safely cast. When you thought that Benvenuto was going mad -because he shouted, 'To the casting!' he was beginning to rescue me." -</p> - -<p> -"But suppose the casting should be unsuccessful?" said Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"There's no danger," rejoined Ascanio with a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"But that sometimes happens to the most skilful founders in France, so I -am told." -</p> - -<p> -"The most skilful founders in France are mere schoolboys compared to -Benvenuto." -</p> - -<p> -"But how much time is required for the casting?" -</p> - -<p> -"Three days." -</p> - -<p> -"And how much more before the statue can be put before the king?" -</p> - -<p> -"Three days more." -</p> - -<p> -"Six or seven days in all. And suppose Madame d'Etampes forces Colombe -to marry D'Orbec within six days?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame d'Etampes has no power over Colombe. Colombe will resist." -</p> - -<p> -"Very true, but the provost has power over Colombe as his daughter, and -King François I. has power over Colombe as his subject; suppose the -provost and the king both order her to marry him?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio became frightfully pale. -</p> - -<p> -"Suppose that when Benvenuto demands your liberty, Colombe is already -the wife of another, what will you do with your liberty then?" -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio passed one hand across his brow to wipe away the cold sweat -which the student's words caused to start thereon, while with the other -hand he felt in his pocket for the precious letter; but just as Aubry -felt certain that he was on the point of yielding, he shook his head as -if to banish all irresolution. -</p> - -<p> -"No!" he said, "no! No no one save Benvenuto. Let us talk of something -else." -</p> - -<p> -These words he uttered in a tone which indicated that, for the moment at -least, it was useless to insist. -</p> - -<p> -"In that case," said Aubry, apparently forming a momentous resolution; -"in that case, my friend, if we are to talk on other subjects we may as -well do it to-morrow morning, or later in the day, for I am afraid we -may remain here for some time. For my own part, I confess that I am worn -out by my tribulations of the day and my labor to-night, and shall not -be sorry for a little rest. Do you remain here, and I will go back to my -own cell. When you want to see me again, do you call me. Meanwhile, -spread this mat over the hole I have made, so that our communications -may not be cut off. Good night! the night brings counsel, they say, and -I hope that I shall find you more reasonable to-morrow morning." -</p> - -<p> -With that, and refusing to listen to the observations of Ascanio, who -sought to detain him, Jacques Aubry plunged head first into his gallery, -and crawled back to his cell. Ascanio, meanwhile, following up the -advice his friend had given him, dragged the mat into the corner of his -cell as soon as the student's legs had disappeared. The means of -communication between the two cells thereupon disappeared altogether. -</p> - -<p> -He then tossed his doublet upon one of the two chairs which, with the -table and the lamp, constituted the furnishings of his apartment, -stretched himself out upon the bed, and, overdone with fatigue as he -was, soon fell asleep, his bodily weariness carrying the day over his -mental torture. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry, instead of following Ascanio's example, although he was quite as -much in need of sleep as he, sat down upon his stool, and began to -reflect deeply, which, as the reader knows, was so entirely contrary to -all his habits, that it was evident that he was meditating some grand -stroke. -</p> - -<p> -The student's immobility lasted about fifteen minutes, after which he -rose slowly, and, with the step of a man whose irresolution is at an end -for good and all, walked to the hole, and crawled into it again, but -this time with so much caution and so noiselessly, that, when he reached -the other end and raised the mat, he was overjoyed to perceive that the -operation had not aroused his friend. -</p> - -<p> -That was all that the student wished. With even greater caution than he -had theretofore exhibited, he crept stealthily forth from his -underground gallery, and approached with bated breath the chair on which -Ascanio's doublet lay. With one eye fixed upon the sleeping youth, and -his ears on the alert for the slightest sound, he took from the pocket -the precious letter so eagerly coveted by Cellini, and placed in the -envelope a note from Gervaise, which he folded in exactly the same shape -as the duchess's letter, sure that Ascanio would believe, so long as he -did not open it, that lovely Anne d'Heilly's missive was still in his -possession. -</p> - -<p> -As silently as ever he stole back to the mat, raised it, crawled into -the hole once more, and disappeared like the phantoms who sink through -trap-doors at the opera. -</p> - -<p> -It was high time, for he was no sooner back in his cell, than he heard -Ascanio's door grinding on its hinges, and his friend's voice crying, in -the tone of one suddenly aroused from sleep,— -</p> - -<p> -"Who's there?" -</p> - -<p> -"I," responded a soft voice, "do not be afraid, for it is a friend." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio, who was but half dressed, rose at the sound of the voice, which -he seemed to recognize, and saw by the light of his lamp a veiled woman -standing by the door. She slowly approached him and raised her veil. He -was not mistaken,—it was Madame d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap16_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XVI -<br /><br /> -WHEREIN IT IS PROVED THAT A GRISETTE'S LETTER,<br /> -WHEN IT IS BURNED, MAKES AS MUCH FLAME<br /> -AND ASHES AS A DUCHESS'S</h4> - -<p> -There was upon Anne d'Heilly's mobile features an expression of sadness -mingled with compassion, which deceived Ascanio completely, and -confirmed him, even before she had opened her mouth, in the impression -that she was entirely innocent of any share in the catastrophe of which -he and Colombe were victims. -</p> - -<p> -"You here, Ascanio!" she said in a melodious voice; "you, to whom I -would have given a palace to live in, I find in a prison!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, madame!" cried the youth, "it is true, is it not, that you know -nothing of the persecution to which we are subjected!" -</p> - -<p> -"Did you suspect me for an instant, Ascanio?" said the duchess; "in that -case you have every reason to hate me, and I can only bewail in silence -my ill fortune in being so little known to him I know so well." -</p> - -<p> -"No, madame, no," said Ascanio; "I was told that you were responsible -for it all, but I refused to believe it." -</p> - -<p> -"'T was well done of you! Ascanio, you do not love me, but with you -hatred at least is not synonymous with injustice. You were right, -Ascanio; not only am I not responsible for it, but I knew nothing -whatever about it. It was the provost, Messire d'Estourville: he learned -the whole story, I know not how, told it all to the king, and obtained -from him the order to arrest you and recover Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"And Colombe is with her father?" demanded Ascanio eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"No, Colombe is with me." -</p> - -<p> -"With you, madame!" cried the young man. "Why with you?" -</p> - -<p> -"She is very lovely, Ascanio," murmured the duchess, "and I can -understand why you prefer her to all the women in the world, even though -the most loving of them all offers you the richest of duchies." -</p> - -<p> -"I love Colombe, madame," said Ascanio, "and you know that love, which -is a treasure sent from Heaven, is to be preferred to all earthly -treasures." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Ascanio, yes, you love her above everything. For a moment I hoped -that your passion for her was only a passing fancy; I was mistaken. Yes, -I realize now," she added with a sigh, "that to keep you apart any -longer would be to run counter to God's will." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, madame!" cried Ascanio, clasping his hands, "God has placed in your -hands the power to bring us together. Be noble and generous to the end, -madame, and make two children happy who will love you and bless you all -their lives." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said the duchess. "I am vanquished, Ascanio; yes, I am ready to -protect and defend you; but alas! it may be too late even now." -</p> - -<p> -"Too late! what do you mean?" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"It may be, Ascanio, it may be that at this moment I am lost myself." -</p> - -<p> -"Lost, madame! how so, in God's name?" -</p> - -<p> -"For having loved you." -</p> - -<p> -"For having loved me! You, lost because of me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, imprudent creature that I am, lost because of you; lost because I -wrote to you." -</p> - -<p> -"How so? I do not understand you, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"You do not understand that the provost, armed with an order from the -king, has directed a general search to be made at the Hôtel de Nesle? -You do not understand that this search, the principal purpose of which -is to find proofs of your affair with Colombe, will be most rigorously -carried out in your bedroom." -</p> - -<p> -"What then?" demanded Ascanio, impatiently. -</p> - -<p> -"Why," continued the duchess, "if they find that letter, which in a -moment of frenzy I wrote to you, if it is recognized as mine, if it is -laid before the king, whom I was then deceiving, and whom I was willing -to betray for you, do you not understand that my power is at an end from -that moment? Do you not understand that I can then do nothing either for -you or for Colombe? Do you not understand, in short, that I am lost?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" cried Ascanio, "have no fear, madame! There is no danger of that; -the letter is here; it has never left me." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess breathed freely once more, and the expression of her face -changed from anxiety to joy. -</p> - -<p> -"It has never left you, Ascanio!" she repeated; "it has never left you! -To what sentiment, pray tell me, do I owe the fact that fortunate -letter has never left you?" -</p> - -<p> -"To prudence, madame," murmured Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"Prudence! mon Dieu! mon Dieu! I am wrong once more! And yet I surely -should be convinced ere this. Prudence! Ah well!" she added, seeming to -make a powerful effort to restrain her feelings, "in that case, as I -have naught but your prudence to thank, Ascanio, do you think it very -prudent to keep it upon your person, when they may come to your cell at -any moment and search you by force? do you think it prudent, I say, to -keep a letter which, if it is found, will put the only person who can -save you and Colombe in a position where it will be impossible for her -to help you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said Ascanio, in his melodious voice, and with that tinge of -melancholy which all pure hearts feel when they are forced to doubt, "I -know not if the purpose to save Colombe and myself exists at the bottom -of your heart as it does upon your lips; I know not whether the desire -to see that letter again, and nothing more, is the motive of your visit -to me; I know not whether, as soon as you have it in your possession, -you may not lay aside this <i>rôle</i> of protectress which you have -assumed, and become our enemy once more; but this I do know, madame, -that the letter is yours, that it belongs to you, and that the moment -you claim it I cease to have the right to keep it from you." -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio rose, went straight to the chair upon which his doublet lay, put -his hand in the pocket, and took out a letter, the envelope of which the -duchess recognized at a glance. -</p> - -<p> -"Here, madame," he said, "is the paper you are so anxious to possess, -and which can be of no use to me, while it may injure you seriously. -Take it, tear it up, destroy it. I have done my duty; you may do what -you choose." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! yours is indeed a noble heart, Ascanio!" cried the duchess, acting -in obedience to one of those generous impulses which are sometimes found -in the most corrupt hearts. -</p> - -<p> -"Some one comes, madame! take care!" cried Ascanio. -</p> - -<p> -"True," said the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -At the sound of approaching footsteps she hastily thrust the paper into -the flame of the lamp, which consumed it in an instant. The duchess did -not let it drop until the flame had almost scorched her fingers, when -the letter, three fourths consumed, drifted slowly downward: when it -reached the floor it was entirely reduced to ashes, but the duchess was -not content until she had placed her foot upon them. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment the provost appeared in the doorway. -</p> - -<p> -"I was told that you were here, madame," he said, looking uneasily from -the duchess to Ascanio, "and I hastened to descend and place myself at -your service. Is there aught in which I, or they who are under my -orders, can be of any use to you?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, messire," she replied, unable to conceal the feeling of intense joy -which overflowed from her heart upon her face. "No, but I am none the -less obliged to you for your readiness and your good will; I came simply -to question this young man whom you arrested, and to ascertain if he is -really as guilty as he was said to be." -</p> - -<p> -"And what is your conclusion?" queried the provost, in a tone to which -he could not refrain from imparting a slight tinge of irony. -</p> - -<p> -"That Ascanio is less guilty than I thought. I beg you, therefore, -messire, to show him every consideration in your power. The poor child -is in wretched quarters. Could you not give him a better room?" -</p> - -<p> -"We will look to it to-morrow, madame, for you know that your wishes are -commands to me. Have you any other commands, and do you wish to continue -your examination?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, messire," was the reply, "I know all that I wished to know." -</p> - -<p> -With that the duchess left the dungeon, darting at Ascanio a parting -glance of mingled gratitude and passion. -</p> - -<p> -The provost followed her and the door closed behind them. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu!" muttered Jacques Aubry, who had not lost a word of the -conversation between the duchess and Ascanio. "Pardieu! it was time." -</p> - -<p> -It had been Marmagne's first thought on recovering consciousness to send -word to the duchess that he had received a wound which might well prove -to be mortal, and that before he breathed his last he desired to impart -to her a secret of the deepest moment. Upon receipt of that message the -duchess hastened to his side. Marmagne then informed her that he had -been attacked and wounded by a certain student named Jacques Aubry, who -was endeavoring to gain admission to the Châtelet in order to get -speech of Ascanio and carry to Cellini a letter that was in Ascanio's -possession. -</p> - -<p> -The duchess needed to hear no more, and, bitterly cursing the passion -which had led her once more to overstep the limits of her ordinary -prudence, she hurried to the Châtelet although it was two o'clock in -the morning, demanded to be shown to Ascanio's cell, and there enacted -the scene we have described, which had ended in accordance with her -wishes so far as she knew, although Ascanio was not altogether deceived. -</p> - -<p> -As Jacques Aubry said, it was high time. -</p> - -<p> -But only half of his task was accomplished, and the most difficult part -remained to do. He had the letter which had come so near being destroyed -forever; but in order that it should have its full effect it must be in -Cellini's hands, not in Jacques Aubry's. -</p> - -<p> -Now Jacques Aubry was a prisoner, very much a prisoner, and he had -learned from his predecessor that it was no easy matter to get out of -the Châtelet, once one was safely lodged therein. He was therefore, we -might say, in much the same plight as the rooster who found the pearl, -greatly perplexed as to the use to be made of his treasure. -</p> - -<p> -To attempt to escape by resorting to violence would be utterly vain. He -might with his dagger kill the keeper who brought his food, and take his -keys and his clothes; but not only was that extreme method repugnant to -the student's kindly disposition,—it did not afford sufficiently -strong hopes of success. There were ten chances to one that he would be -recognized, searched, relieved of his precious letter, and thrust back -into his cell. -</p> - -<p> -To attempt to escape by cunning was even less hopeful. The dungeon was -eight or ten feet underground, there were huge iron bars across the -air-hole through which the one faint ray of light filtered into his -cell. It would take months to loosen one of those bars, and, suppose one -of them to be removed, where would the fugitive then find himself?—in -some courtyard with insurmountable walls, where he would inevitably be -found the next morning? -</p> - -<p> -Bribery was his only remaining resource; but, as a consequence of the -sentence pronounced by the lieutenant criminal, whereby Gervaise was -awarded twenty Paris sous for the loss of her honor, the prisoner's -whole fortune was reduced to ten Paris sous, a sum utterly inadequate to -tempt the lowest jailer of the vilest prison, and which could not -decently be offered to the turnkey of a royal fortress. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques Aubry was therefore, we are forced to confess, in the direst -perplexity. -</p> - -<p> -From time to time it seemed as if a hopeful idea passed through his -mind; but it was evident that it was likely to entail serious -consequences, for each time that it returned, with the persistence -characteristic of hopeful ideas, Aubry's face grew perceptibly darker, -and he heaved deep sighs, which proved that the poor fellow was -undergoing an internal conflict of the most violent description. -</p> - -<p> -This conflict was so violent and so prolonged that Aubry did not once -think of sleep the whole night long: he passed the time in striding to -and fro, in sitting down and standing up. It was the first time that he -had ever kept vigil all night for purposes of reflection; his previous -experiences in that line had been on convivial occasions only. -</p> - -<p> -At daybreak the struggle seemed to have ended in the complete triumph of -one of the opposing forces, for Jacques heaved a more heart-breaking -sigh than any he had yet achieved, and threw himself upon his bed like -a man completely crushed. -</p> - -<p> -His head had hardly touched the pillow when he heard steps on the -staircase, the key grated in the lock, the door turned upon its hinges, -and two officers of the law appeared in the doorway; they were the -lieutenant criminal and his clerk. -</p> - -<p> -The annoyance of the visit was tempered by the student's gratification -in recognizing two old acquaintances. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha! my fine fellow," said the magistrate, recognizing Aubry, "so it's -you, is it, and you succeeded after all in getting into the Châtelet? -<i>Tudieu</i>! what a rake you are! You seduce young women and run young -noblemen through the body! But beware! a nobleman's life is more -expensive than a grisette's honor, and you'll not be quit of this affair -for twenty Paris sous!" -</p> - -<p> -Alarming as the worthy magistrate's words undoubtedly were, the tone in -which he uttered them reassured the prisoner to some extent. This -jovial-faced individual, into whose hands he had had the good luck to -fall, was such a good fellow to all appearance that it was impossible to -think of him in connection with anything deadly. To be sure it was not -the same with his clerk, who nodded his head approvingly at each word -that fell from his principal's lips. It was the second time that Jacques -Aubry had seen the two men side by side, and, deeply engrossed as he was -by his own precarious situation, he could not forbear some internal -reflections upon the whimsical chance which had coupled together two -beings so utterly opposed to each other in character and feature. -</p> - -<p> -The examination began. Jacques Aubry made no attempt at concealment. He -declared that, having recognized the Vicomte de Marmagne as a man who -had on several occasions betrayed his confidence, he seized his page's -sword and challenged him; that Marmagne had accepted the challenge, and -that after exchanging a few thrusts the viscount fell. More than that he -did not know. -</p> - -<p> -"You know no more than that! you know no more than that!" muttered the -judge. "Faith, I should say that was quite enough, and your -affair's as clear as day, especially as the Vicomte de Marmagne is one -of Madame d'Etampes's great favorites. So it seems that she has -complained of you to the higher powers, my boy." -</p> - -<p> -"The devil!" exclaimed the scholar, beginning to feel decidedly ill at -ease. "Tell me, Monsieur le Juge, is the affair so bad as you say?" -</p> - -<p> -"Worse! my dear friend, worse! I am not in the habit of frightening -those who come before me; but I give you warning of this, so that if you -have any arrangements to make—" -</p> - -<p> -"Arrangements to make!" cried the student. "Tell me, Monsieur le -Lieutenant Criminel, for God's sake! do you think my life's in danger?" -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly it is, certainly. What! you attack a nobleman in the street, -you force him to fight, you run a sword through him, and then you ask if -your life's in danger! Yes, my dear friend, yes,—in very great -danger." -</p> - -<p> -"But such affairs happen every day, and I don't see that the guilty ones -are prosecuted." -</p> - -<p> -"True, among gentlemen, my young friend. Oh! when it pleases two -gentlemen to cut each other's throats, it's a privilege of their rank, -and the king has nothing to say; but if the common people take it into -their head some fine day to fight with gentlemen, as they are twenty -times as numerous, there would soon be no more gentlemen, which would be -a great pity." -</p> - -<p> -"How many days do you think my trial will last?" -</p> - -<p> -"Five or six, in all likelihood." -</p> - -<p> -"What!" cried the student, "five or six days! No more than that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why should it? The facts are clear enough; a man dies, you confess that -you killed him, and justice is satisfied. However," added the judge, -assuming a still more benevolent expression, "if two or three days more -would be agreeable to you—" -</p> - -<p> -"Very agreeable." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh well! we will spin out the report, and gain time in that way. You -are a good fellow at heart, and I shall be delighted to do something for -you." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks," said the student. -</p> - -<p> -"And now," said the judge, rising, "have you any further request to -make?" -</p> - -<p> -"I would like to see a priest: is it impossible?" -</p> - -<p> -"No; it is your right." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case, Monsieur le Juge, ask them to send one to me." -</p> - -<p> -"I will do your errand. No ill will, my young friend." -</p> - -<p> -"Good lack! on the contrary, I am deeply grateful." -</p> - -<p> -"Master Student," said the clerk in an undertone, stepping to Aubrey's -side, "would you be willing to do me a favor?" -</p> - -<p> -"Gladly," said Aubrey; "what might it be?" -</p> - -<p> -"It may be that you have friends or relatives to whom you intend to -bequeath all your possessions?" -</p> - -<p> -"Friends? I have but one, and he's a prisoner like myself. Relatives? I -have only cousins, and very distant cousins at that. So, say on, Master -Clerk, say on." -</p> - -<p> -"Monsieur, I am a poor man, father of a family, with five children." -</p> - -<p> -"What then?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have never had any opportunities in my position, which I fill, as you -can testify, with scrupulous probity. All my confrères are promoted -over my head." -</p> - -<p> -"Why is that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why? Ah! why? I will tell you." -</p> - -<p> -"Do so." -</p> - -<p> -"Because they are lucky." -</p> - -<p> -"Aha!" -</p> - -<p> -"And why are they lucky?" -</p> - -<p> -"That's what I would ask you, Master Clerk." -</p> - -<p> -"And that's what I am about to tell you, Master Student." -</p> - -<p> -"I shall be very glad to know." -</p> - -<p> -"They are lucky,"—here the clerk lowered his voice a half-tone -more,—"they are lucky because they have the rope a man was hanged -with in their pocket: do you understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"You're rather dull. You will make a will, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -"A will! why should I?" -</p> - -<p> -"Dame! so that there may be no contest among your heirs. Very good! -write in your will that you authorize Marc-Boniface Grimoineau, cleric -to Monsieur le Lieutenant Criminel, to claim from the executioner a hit -of the rope you are hanged by." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" said Aubry, in a choking voice. "Yes, now I understand." -</p> - -<p> -"And you will grant my request?" -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure!" -</p> - -<p> -"Young man, remember what you have promised me. Many have made the same -promise, but some have died intestate, others have written my name, -Marc-Boniface Grimoineau so badly that there was a chance for cavilling; -and others still, who were guilty, monsieur, on my word of honor very -guilty, have been acquitted, and gone off elsewhere to be hanged; so -that I was really in despair when you fell in my way." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, Master Cleric, very well; if I am hanged, you shall have -what you want, never fear." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you will be, monsieur, you will he, don't you doubt it!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Grimoineau," said the judge. -</p> - -<p> -"Here I am, monsieur, here I am. So it's a bargain, Master Student?" -</p> - -<p> -"It's a bargain." -</p> - -<p> -"On your word of honor?" -</p> - -<p> -"On my word!" -</p> - -<p> -"I think that I shall get it at last," muttered the clerk as he -withdrew. "I will go home and tell my wife and children the good news." -</p> - -<p> -He left the cell on the heels of the lieutenant criminal, who was -grumbling good-humoredly at having to wait so long. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap17_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XVII -<br /><br /> -WHEREIN IT IS PROVED THAT TRUE FRIENDSHIP IS<br /> -CAPABLE OF CARRYING DEVOTION TO THE MARRYING POINT</h4> - -<p> -Aubry, once more alone, was soon more deeply absorbed in thought than -before; and the reader will agree that there was ample food for thought -in his conversation with the lieutenant criminal. We hasten to say, -however, that one who could have read his thoughts would have found that -the situation of Ascanio and Colombe, depending as it did upon the -letter in his possession, occupied the first place, and that before -thinking of himself, a thing which he proposed to do in good time, he -deliberated as to what was to be done for them. -</p> - -<p> -He had been meditating thus for half an hour more or less, when the door -of his cell opened once more, and the turnkey appeared on the threshold. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you the man who sent for a priest?" he growled. -</p> - -<p> -"To be sure I am," said Jacques. -</p> - -<p> -"Deuce take me, if I know what they all want with a damned monk," -muttered the turnkey; "but what I do know is that they can't leave a -poor man in peace for five minutes. Come in, come in, father," he -continued, standing aside to allow the priest to pass, "and be quick -about it." -</p> - -<p> -With that he closed the door, still grumbling, and left the new comer -alone with the prisoner. -</p> - -<p> -"Was it you who sent for me, my son?" the priest asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, father," replied the student. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you wish to confess?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, not just that: I wish to talk with you concerning a simple case of -conscience." -</p> - -<p> -"Say on, my son," said the priest, seating himself upon the stool, "and -if any feeble light that I can give you will help you—" -</p> - -<p> -"It was to ask your advice that I ventured to send for you." -</p> - -<p> -"I am listening." -</p> - -<p> -"Father," said Aubry, "I am a great sinner." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas!" said the priest; "happy is the man who acknowledges it." -</p> - -<p> -"But that is not all; not only am I a great sinner myself, as I said, -but I have led others into sin." -</p> - -<p> -"Is there any way of undoing the harm you have done?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think so, father, I think so. She whom I dragged with me into the pit -was an innocent young girl." -</p> - -<p> -"You seduced her, did you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Seduced; yes, father, that is the word." -</p> - -<p> -"And you wish to atone for your sin?" -</p> - -<p> -"That at least is my intention." -</p> - -<p> -"There is but one way to do it." -</p> - -<p> -"I know it well, and that is why I have been undecided so long: if there -were two ways I would have chosen the other." -</p> - -<p> -"You wish to marry her?" -</p> - -<p> -"One moment, no! I will not lie: no, father, I do not wish to do it, but -I am resigned." -</p> - -<p> -"A warmer, more devoted feeling would be much better." -</p> - -<p> -"What would you have, father? There are people who are born to marry, -and others to remain single. Celibacy was my vocation, and nothing less -than my present situation, I swear—" -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, my son, the sooner the better, as you may repent of your -virtuous intentions." -</p> - -<p> -"What will be the earliest possible moment?" Aubry asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Dame!" said the priest, "as it is a marriage <i>in extremis</i>, there -will be no difficulty about the necessary dispensations, and I think that -by day after to-morrow—" -</p> - -<p> -"Day after to-morrow let it be," said the student with a sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"But the young woman?" -</p> - -<p> -"What of her?" -</p> - -<p> -"Will she consent?" -</p> - -<p> -"To what?" -</p> - -<p> -"To the marriage." -</p> - -<p> -"Pardieu! will she consent? That she will, with thanks. Such -propositions aren't made to her every day." -</p> - -<p> -"Then there is no obstacle?" -</p> - -<p> -"None." -</p> - -<p> -"Your parents?" -</p> - -<p> -"Absent." -</p> - -<p> -"And hers?" -</p> - -<p> -"Unknown." -</p> - -<p> -"Her name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Gervaise-Perrette Popinot." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you wish me to tell her of your purpose?" -</p> - -<p> -"If you will kindly take that trouble, father, I shall be truly -grateful." -</p> - -<p> -"She shall be informed this very day." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me, father, tell me, could you possibly hand her a letter?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, my son: we who are admitted to minister to the prisoners have sworn -to deliver no message for them to any person until after their death. -When that time comes, I will do whatever you choose." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, it would be useless; marriage it must be, then," muttered -Aubry. -</p> - -<p> -"You have nothing else to say to me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing, except that, if you doubt the truth of what I say, and if she -makes any objection to granting my request, you will find in the office -of the lieutenant criminal a complaint lodged by said Gervaise-Perrette -Popinot, which will prove that what I have said is the exact truth." -</p> - -<p> -"Rely upon me to smooth away all obstacles," replied the priest, who -realized that Jacques's proposed action was not prompted by enthusiasm -for the marriage, but that he was yielding to necessity; "and two days -hence—" -</p> - -<p> -"Two days hence—" -</p> - -<p> -"You will have restored, her honor to the woman whose honor you took -from her." -</p> - -<p> -"Alas!" muttered the student with a deep sigh. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, my son!" said the priest, "the more a sacrifice costs you, the -greater pleasure it affords to God." -</p> - -<p> -"By Mahomet's belly!" cried Jacques; "in that case God should be very -grateful to me! go, father, go!" -</p> - -<p> -Indeed, Jacques had had to overcome very bitter opposition in his own -mind before arriving at such a resolution. As he had told Gervaise, he -had inherited his antipathy to the marriage tie from his father, and -nothing less than his friendship for Ascanio, and the thought that it -was he who had caused his ruin, together with the incentive afforded by -the noblest examples of self-sacrificing devotion to be found in -history,—nothing less than all of this was necessary to bring him to -the pitch of abnegation at which he had now arrived. -</p> - -<p> -But, the reader may ask, where lies the connection between the marriage -of Gervaise and Aubry, and the happiness of Ascanio and Colombe, and how -did Aubry expect to save his friend by marrying his mistress? To such a -question I can only answer that the reader lacks penetration; to which -the reader may retort, to be sure, that it is not his business to have -that quality. In that case, I beg him to take the trouble to read the -end of this chapter, which he might have passed over had he been endowed -with a more subtle intellect. -</p> - -<p> -When the priest had gone, Aubry, recognizing the impossibility of -drawing back, seemed to become more tranquil. It is characteristic of -resolutions, even the most momentous, to bring tranquillity in their -wake: the mind which has wrestled with its perplexity is at rest; the -heart which has fought against its sorrow is, as it were, benumbed. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques remained passive in his cell, until, having heard sounds in that -occupied by Ascanio, which he supposed to be caused by the entrance of -the jailer with his breakfast, he concluded that they would surely be -left in peace for a few hours. He waited some little time after the -noise had ceased, then crawled into his underground gallery, passed -through it, and raised the mat with his head. -</p> - -<p> -Ascanio's cell was plunged in most intense darkness. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry called his friend's name in a low tone, but there was no reply. -The cell was untenanted. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry's first feeling was one of joy. Ascanio was free, and if Ascanio -was free there was no need for him to—But almost immediately he -remembered what was said the night before about providing him with -better quarters. It was plain that the suggestion of Madame d'Etampes -had been heeded, and the sounds he heard were caused by his friend's -being moved. -</p> - -<p> -Aubry's hope was as dazzling, therefore, but as evanescent, as a flash -of lightning. He let the mat fall and crawled backward into his cell. -Every source of consolation was taken from him, even the presence of the -friend for whom he had sacrificed himself. -</p> - -<p> -He had no resource left but reflection. But he had already reflected so -long, and his reflections had led to such a disastrous result, that he -preferred to sleep. -</p> - -<p> -He threw himself upon his bed, and as he was very much in arrears in the -matter of sleep, it was not long before he was entirely unconscious of -his surroundings, notwithstanding the perturbed condition of his mind. -</p> - -<p> -He dreamed that he was condemned to death and hanged; but through the -deviltry of the hangman, the rope was badly greased, and his neck was -not broken. He was buried in due form, none the less, and in his dream -was beginning to gnaw his arms, as men buried alive always do, when the -clerk, determined to have his bit of rope, came to secure it, opened the -coffin in which he was immured, and restored his life and liberty. -</p> - -<p> -Alas! it was only a dream, and when the student awoke his life was still -in great danger, and his liberty altogether non-existent. -</p> - -<p> -The evening, the night, and the next day passed away, and brought him no -other visitor than his jailer. He tried to ask him a few questions, but -could not extract a word from him. -</p> - -<p> -In the middle of the second night, as Jacques was in the midst of his -first sleep, he was awakened with a start by the grinding of his door -upon its hinges. However soundly a prisoner may be sleeping, the sound -of an opening door always awakens him. -</p> - -<p> -The student sat up in bed. -</p> - -<p> -"Up with you, and dress yourself," said the jailer's harsh voice; and -Aubry could see by the light of the torch he held, the halberds of two -of the provost's guards behind him. -</p> - -<p> -The second branch of his order was unnecessary; as the student's bed was -entirely unprovided with bedclothes, he had lain down completely -dressed. -</p> - -<p> -"Where do you propose to take me, pray?" demanded Jacques, still asleep -with one eye. -</p> - -<p> -"You are very inquisitive," said the jailer. -</p> - -<p> -"But I would like to know." -</p> - -<p> -"Come, come; no arguing, but follow me." -</p> - -<p> -Resistance was useless, so the prisoner obeyed. -</p> - -<p> -The jailer walked first, then came Aubry, and the two guards brought up -the rear of the procession. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques looked around with an inquietude which he did not seek to -conceal. He feared a nocturnal execution; but one thing comforted him, -he saw no priest or hangman. -</p> - -<p> -After a few moments he found himself in the first room to which he was -taken at the time of his coming to the prison; but instead of escorting -him to the outer door, which he hoped for an instant that they would do, -so prone to illusions does misfortune render one, his guide opened a -door at one corner of the room and entered an inner corridor leading to -a courtyard. -</p> - -<p> -The prisoner's first thought on entering the courtyard, where he felt -the fresh air and saw the starlit sky, was to fill his lungs, and lay in -a stock of oxygen, not knowing when he might have another opportunity. -</p> - -<p> -The next moment he noticed the ogive windows of a fourteenth century -chapel on the other side of the yard, and began to suspect what was in -the wind. -</p> - -<p> -The truth-telling instinct of the historian compels us to state that at -the thought his strength wellnigh failed him. -</p> - -<p> -However, the memory of Ascanio and Colombe, and the grandeur of the -self-sacrifice about to be consummated, sustained him in his distress. -He walked with a firm step toward the chapel, and when he stood in the -doorway everything was explained. -</p> - -<p> -The priest stood by the altar; in the choir a woman was waiting; the -woman was Gervaise. -</p> - -<p> -Half-way up the choir he met the governor of the Châtelet. -</p> - -<p> -"You desired to make reparation, before your death, to the young woman -whose honor you stole from her: your request was no more than just and -it is granted." -</p> - -<p> -A cloud passed over the student's eyes; but he put his hand over Madame -d'Etampes's letter, and his courage returned. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, my poor Jacques!" cried Gervaise, throwing herself into the -student's arms: "oh, who could have dreamed that this hour which I have -so longed for would strike under such circumstances!" -</p> - -<p> -"What wouldst thou have, my dear Gervaise?" cried the student, receiving -her upon his breast. "God knows those whom he should punish and those -whom he should reward: we must submit to God's will." -</p> - -<p> -"Take this," he added beneath his breath, slipping Madame d'Etampes's -letter into her hand; "for Benvenuto and for him alone!" -</p> - -<p> -"What's that?" exclaimed the governor, walking hastily toward them; -"what's the matter!" -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing; I was telling Gervaise how I love her." -</p> - -<p> -"As she will not, in all probability, have time to ascertain the -contrary, protestations are thrown away; go to the altar and make -haste." -</p> - -<p> -Aubry and Gervaise went forward in silence to the waiting priest. When -they were in front of him they fell upon their knees and the mass began. -</p> - -<p> -Jacques would have been very glad of an opportunity to exchange a few -words with Gervaise, who, for her part, was burning up with the desire -to express her gratitude to Aubry; but two guards stood beside them -listening to every word and watching every movement. It was very -fortunate that a momentary feeling of sympathy led the governor to allow -them to exchange the embrace under cover of which the letter passed from -Jacques's hands to Gervaise's. That opportunity lost, the close -surveillance to which they were subjected would have rendered Jacques's -devotion of no avail. -</p> - -<p> -The priest had received his instructions, doubtless, for he cut his -discourse very short. It may be, too, that he thought it would be -trouble thrown away to enjoin due regard to his duties as a husband and -father upon a man who was to be hanged within two or three days. -</p> - -<p> -The discourse at an end, the benediction given, the mass said, Aubry and -Gervaise thought they would be allowed to speak together privately for a -moment, but not so. Despite the tears of Gervaise, who was literally -dissolved in them, the guards forced them to part. -</p> - -<p> -They had time, however, to exchange a glance. Aubry's said, "Remember my -commission." Gervaise's replied, "Never fear; it shall be done to-night, -or to-morrow at latest." -</p> - -<p> -Then they were led away in opposite directions. Gervaise was politely -escorted to the street door, and Jacques was politely taken back to his -cell. -</p> - -<p> -As the door closed upon him, he heaved a deeper sigh than any of those -he had perpetrated since he entered the prison: he was married. -</p> - -<p> -Thus it was that Aubry, like another Curtius, plunged headlong, through -devotion, into the hymeneal gulf. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap18_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XVIII -<br /><br /> -THE CASTING</h4> - -<p> -Now, with our readers' permission, we will leave the Châtelet for a -moment, and return to the Hôtel de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -The workmen responded quickly to Benvenuto's cries, and followed him to -the foundry. -</p> - -<p> -They all knew him as he appeared when at work; but never had they seen -such an expression upon his face, never such a flame in his eyes. -Whoever could have cast him in a mould at that moment, as he was on the -point of casting his Jupiter, would have endowed the world with the -noblest statue ever created by the genius of an artist. -</p> - -<p> -Everything was ready: the wax model in its envelope of clay, girt round -with iron bands, was awaiting in the furnace which surrounded it the -hour of its life. The wood was all arranged: Benvenuto set fire to it in -four different places, and as it was spruce, which the artist had been -long collecting that it might be thoroughly dry, the fire quickly -attacked every part of the furnace, and the mould was soon the centre of -an immense blaze. The wax thereupon began to run out through the -air-holes while the mould was baking: at the same time the workmen were -digging a long ditch beside the furnace, into which the metal was to be -poured in a state of fusion, for Benvenuto was anxious not to lose a -moment, and to proceed to the casting as soon as the mould was -thoroughly baked. -</p> - -<p> -For a day and a half the wax trickled from the mould; for a day and a -half, while the workmen divided into watches and took turn and turn -about like the sailors on a man-of-war, Benvenuto was constantly on -hand, hovering about the furnace, feeding the fire, encouraging the -workmen. At last he found that the wax had all run out, and that the -mould was thoroughly baked; this completed the second part of his work; -the last part was the melting of the bronze and the casting of the -statue. When that stage was reached the workmen, who were utterly unable -to comprehend such superhuman strength and such an intensity of passion, -endeavored to induce Benvenuto to take a few hours' rest; but that would -mean so many hours added to Ascanio's captivity and the persecution of -Colombe. Benvenuto refused. He seemed to be made of the same bronze of -which he was about to make a god. -</p> - -<p> -When the ditch was dug, he wound stout ropes about the mould, and with -the aid of windlasses prepared for that purpose, he raised it with every -possible precaution, swung it out over the ditch, and let it down slowly -until it was on a level with the furnace. He fixed it firmly in place -there by piling around it the dirt taken from the ditch, treading it -down, and putting in place, as the dirt rose about the mould, the pieces -of earthen pipe which were to serve as air-holes. All these preparations -took the rest of the day. Night came. For forty-eight hours Benvenuto -had not slept nor lain down, nor even sat down. The workmen implored, -Scozzone scolded, but Benvenuto would hear none of it: he seemed to be -sustained by some more than human power, and made no other reply to the -entreaties and scolding than to assign to each workman his task, in the -short, stern tone of an officer manœuvring his troops. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was determined to begin the casting at once: the energetic -artist, who was accustomed to see all obstacles yield before him, -exerted his imperious power upon himself; he ordered his body to act, -and it obeyed, while his companions were obliged to withdraw, one after -another, as in battle wounded soldiers leave the field and seek the -hospital. -</p> - -<p> -The casting furnace was ready: it was filled with round ingots of brass -and copper, symmetrically piled one upon another, so that the heat could -pass between them, and the fusion be effected more quickly and more -completely. He set fire to the wood around it as in the case of the -other furnace, and as it was mostly spruce, the resin which exuded from -it, in conjunction with the combustible nature of the wood, soon made -such a fierce flame that it rose higher than was anticipated, and lapped -the roof of the foundry, which took fire at once, being of wood. At the -sight of this conflagration, and more especially at the heat which it -gave forth, all the artist's comrades, save Hermann, drew back; but -Hermann and Benvenuto were a host in themselves. Each of them seized an -axe and cut away at the wooden pillars which upheld the roof, and in an -instant it fell in. Thereupon Hermann and Benvenuto with poles pushed -the burning fragments into the furnace, and with the increased heat the -metal began to melt. -</p> - -<p> -But Benvenuto had at last reached the limit of his strength. For nearly -sixty hours he had not slept, for twenty-four he had not eaten, and -during the whole of that time he was the soul of the whole performance, -the axis upon which the whole operation turned. A terrible fever took -possession of him: a deathly pallor succeeded to his usual high color. -In an atmosphere so intensely hot that no one could live beside him, he -felt his limbs tremble and his teeth chatter as if he were amid the -snows of Lapland. His companions remarked his condition and drew near to -him. He tried to resist, to deny that he was beaten, for in his eyes it -was a disgrace to yield even before the impossible; but at last he was -fain to confess that his strength was failing him. Fortunately, the -fusion was nearly accomplished: the most difficult part of the operation -was past, and what remained to be done was mere mechanical work. He -called Pagolo; Pagolo did not reply. But the workmen shouted his name in -chorus and he at last appeared; he said that he had been praying for the -successful issue of the casting. -</p> - -<p> -"This is no time to pray!" cried Benvenuto, "and the Lord said, 'He who -works prays.' This is the time for work, Pagolo. Hark ye: I feel that I -am dying; but whether I die or not, my Jupiter must live. Pagolo, my -friend, to thee I intrust the management of the casting, sure that thou -canst do it as well as I, if thou wilt. Understand, Pagolo, the metal -will soon be ready; thou canst not mistake the proper degree of heat. -When it is red thou wilt give a sledge hammer to Hermann, and one to -Simon-le-Gaucher.—My God! what was I saying? Ah, yes!—Then -they must knock out the two plugs of the furnace; the metal will flow -out, and if I am dead you will tell the king that he promised me a boon, -and that you claim it in my name, and that it—is—O my God! I -no longer remember. What was I to ask the king? Ah, -yes!—Ascanio—Seigneur de Nesle—Colombe, the provost's -daughter—D'Orbec—Madame d'Etampes—Ah! I am going mad!" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto staggered and fell into Hermann's arms, who carried him off -like a child to his room, while Pagolo, intrusted with the -superintendence of the work, gave orders for it to go on. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto was right: he was going mad, or rather a terrible delirium had -taken possession of him. Scozzone, who doubtless had been praying as -Pagolo had, hurried to his side; but Benvenuto continued to cry, "I am -dying! I am dying! Ascanio! Ascanio! what will become of Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -A thousand delirious visions were crowding in upon his brain: Ascanio, -Colombe, Stefana, all appeared and disappeared like ghosts. In the -throng which passed before his eyes was Pompeo the goldsmith, whom he -slew with his dagger; and the keeper of the post-house at Sienna, whom -he slew with his arquebus. Past and present were confounded in his -brain. How it was Clement VII. who detained Ascanio in prison; again it -was Cosmo I. who sought to force Colombe to marry D'Orbec. Then he would -appeal to Queen Eleanora, thinking he was addressing Madame d'Etampes, -and would implore and threaten her by turns. Then he would make sport of -poor weeping Scozzone, and bid her beware lest Pagolo should break his -neck clambering around on the cornices like a cat. Intervals of complete -prostration would succeed these paroxysms, and it would seem as if he -were at the point of death. -</p> - -<p> -This agonizing state of affairs endured three hours. Benvenuto was in -one of his periods of torpor when Pagolo suddenly rushed into the room, -pale and agitated, crying:— -</p> - -<p> -"May Jesus and the Virgin help us, master! for all is lost now, and we -can look nowhere but to Heaven for help." -</p> - -<p> -Worn out, half conscious, dying as he was, these words, like a sharp -stiletto, reached the very bottom of his heart. The veil which clouded -his intellect was torn away, and, like Lazarus rising at the voice of -the Lord, he rose upon his bed, crying:— -</p> - -<p> -"Who dares to say that all is lost when Benvenuto still lives?" -</p> - -<p> -"Alas! I, master," said Pagolo. -</p> - -<p> -"Double traitor!" cried Benvenuto, "is it written that thou shalt -forever prove false to me? But never fear! Jesus and the Virgin whom you -invoked just now are at hand, to bear aid to men of good will, and -punish traitors!" -</p> - -<p> -At that moment he heard the workmen lamenting and crying:— -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto! Benvenuto!" -</p> - -<p> -"He is here! he is here!" cried the artist, rushing from his room, pale -of face, but with renewed strength and clearness of vision. "Here he is! -and woe to them who have not done their duty!" -</p> - -<p> -In two hounds Benvenuto was at the foundry; he found all the workmen, -whom he had left so full of vigor and enthusiasm, in a state of utter -stupefaction and dejection. Even Hermann the colossus seemed to be dying -of fatigue; he was tottering on his legs and was compelled to lean -against one of the supports of the roof which remained standing. -</p> - -<p> -"Now listen to what I say," cried Benvenuto in an awful voice, falling -into their midst like a thunderbolt. "I don't as yet know what has -happened, but I swear to you beforehand that it can be remedied, -whatever it may he,—upon my soul it can! Now that I am present, obey -me on your lives! but obey passively, without a word, without a gesture, -for the first man who hesitates I will kill. -</p> - -<p> -"So much for the ill disposed. -</p> - -<p> -"I have but one word to say to those who are disposed to do their duty: -the liberty and happiness of Ascanio, your companion of whom you are all -so fond, will follow the successful issue of this task. To work!" -</p> - -<p> -With that Cellini approached the furnace to form his own opinion of what -had taken place. The supply of wood had given out, and the metal had -cooled, so that it had turned to cake, as the professional phrase goes. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto at once determined that the disaster could be repaired. -Pagolo's watchfulness had relaxed in all likelihood, and he had allowed -the heat of the fire to abate: the thing to be done was to make the fire -as hot as ever, and to reduce the metal to a liquid state once more. -</p> - -<p> -"Wood!" cried Benvenuto, "wood! Go look for wood wherever it can -possibly be found; go to the bakers, and buy it by the pound if -necessary; bring every stick of wood that there is in the house to the -smallest chip. Break in the doors of the Petit-Nesle, Hermann, if Dame -Perrine doesn't choose to open them; everything in that direction is -lawful prize, for it's an enemy's country. Wood! wood!" -</p> - -<p> -To set the example Benvenuto seized an axe and attacked the two posts -which were still standing: they soon fell with the last remnants of the -roof, and Benvenuto at once pushed the whole mass into the fire: at the -same time his comrades returned from all directions laden with wood. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" cried Benvenuto, "now are you ready to obey me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes! yes!" cried every voice, "yes! we will do whatever you bid us do, -so long as we have a breath of life in our bodies." -</p> - -<p> -"Select the oak then, and throw on nothing but oak at first: that burns -more quickly, and consequently will repair the damage sooner." -</p> - -<p> -Immediately oak began to rain down upon the fire, and Benvenuto was -obliged to cry enough. -</p> - -<p> -His energy infected all his comrades; his orders, even his gestures, -were understood and executed on the instant. Pagolo alone muttered from -time to time between his teeth:— -</p> - -<p> -"You are trying to perform impossibilities, master: it is tempting -Providence." -</p> - -<p> -To which Cellini's only reply was a look which seemed to say, "Never -fear; we have an account to settle hereafter." -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, notwithstanding Pagolo's sinister predictions, the metal -began to fuse anew, and to hasten the fusion Benvenuto at intervals -threw a quantity of lead into the furnace, stirring up the lead and -copper and brass with a long bar of iron, so that, to borrow his -expression, the metal corpse began to come to life again. At sight of -the progress that was making, Benvenuto was so elate that he was -unconscious of fever or weakness; he too came to life once more. -</p> - -<p> -At last the metal began to boil and seethe. Benvenuto at once opened the -orifice of the mould and ordered the plugs of the furnace to be knocked -out, which was done on the instant; but, as if this immense work was to -be a veritable combat of Titans to the end, Benvenuto perceived, as soon -as the plugs were removed, not only that the metal did not run freely -enough, but that there was some question as to whether there was enough -of it. Thereupon, with one of those heaven-sent inspirations which come -to none but artists, he cried:— -</p> - -<p> -"Let half of you remain here to feed the fire, and the rest follow me!" -</p> - -<p> -With that he rushed into the house, followed by five of his men, and an -instant later they all reappeared, laden with silver plate, pewter, -bullion, and pieces of work half completed. Benvenuto himself set the -example, and each one cast his precious burden into the furnace, which -instantly devoured everything, bronze, lead, silver, rough pig-metal, -and beautiful works of art, with the same indifference with which it -would have devoured the artist himself if he had thrown himself in. -</p> - -<p> -Thanks to this reinforcement of fusible matter, the metal became -thoroughly liquefied, and, as if it repented of its momentary -hesitation, began to flow freely. There ensued a period of breathless -suspense, which became something very like terror when Benvenuto -perceived that all of the bronze did not reach the orifice of the mould: -he sounded with a long rod and found that the mould was entirely filled -without exhausting the supply of metal. -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon he fell upon his knees and thanked God: the work was finished -which was to save Ascanio and Colombe: now would God permit that the -result should fulfil his hopes? -</p> - -<p> -It was impossible to know until the following day. -</p> - -<p> -The night that followed was, as can readily be imagined, a night of -agony, and, worn out as Benvenuto was, he slept for a very few moments -only, and his sleep even for those few moments was far from being -restful. His eyes were hardly closed before real objects gave place to -imaginary ones. He saw his Jupiter, the king of the gods in beauty as -well as power, as shapeless and deformed as his son Vulcan. In his dream -he was unable to understand this catastrophe. Was it the fault of the -mould! Was it the fault of the casting? Had he made a miscalculation? or -was destiny making sport of him? At the sight his temples throbbed -furiously, and he awoke with his heart jumping, and bathed in -perspiration. For some time his mind was so confused that he could not -separate fact from vision. At last, however, he remembered that his -Jupiter was still hidden in the mould, like a child in its mother's -womb. He recalled all the precautions he had taken. He implored God not -only to make his work successful, but to do a merciful deed. Thereupon -he became somewhat calmer, and fell asleep again—under the weight of -the never-ending weariness which seemed to have laid hold on him -forever—only to fall into a second dream as absurd and as terrifying -as the first. -</p> - -<p> -Day broke at last, and with its coming Benvenuto shook himself clear of -all symptoms of drowsiness: in an instant he was on his feet and fully -dressed, and hastened at once to the foundry. -</p> - -<p> -The bronze was evidently still too hot to be exposed to the air, but -Benvenuto was in such haste to ascertain what he had still to fear, or -what he might hope, that he could not contain himself, and began to -uncover the head. When he put his hand to the mould he was so pale that -one would have thought him at the point of death. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you still sick, master?" inquired a voice, which he recognized as -Hermann's; "you vould do much petter to stay in your ped." -</p> - -<p> -"You are wrong, Hermann, my boy," said Benvenuto, amazed to find him -astir so early, "for I should die in my bed. But how happens it that you -are out of bed at this hour?" -</p> - -<p> -"I vas taking a valk," said Hermann, blushing to the whites of his eyes; -"I like much to valk. Shall I help you, master?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, no!" cried Benvenuto; "no one but myself is to touch the mould! -Wait, wait!" -</p> - -<p> -And he began gently to uncover the head. By a miraculous chance there -was just the necessary amount of metal. If it had not occurred to him to -throw all his silver plate and other objects into the furnace, the head -would have been missing and the casting a failure. -</p> - -<p> -Fortunately the head was not missing, and was wonderfully beautiful. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> -<a id="figure07"></a> -<img src="images/figure07.jpg" width="400" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The sight of it encouraged Benvenuto to expose the other portions of the -body one after another. Little by little the mould fell away like bark, -and at last Jupiter, freed from head to foot from his trammels, appeared -in all the majesty befitting the sovereign of Olympus. In no part of the -work had the bronze betrayed the artist, and when the last morsel of -clay fell away, all the workmen joined in a shout of admiration; for -they had come out one by one and gathered about Cellini, who did not -even notice their presence, so absorbed was he by the thoughts to which -this complete success gave rise. -</p> - -<p> -But at the shout, which made him too a god, he raised his head, and said -with a proud smile:— -</p> - -<p> -"We shall see if the King of France will refuse the first boon asked by -the man who has made such a statue!" -</p> - -<p> -The next instant, as if he repented his first impulse of pride, which -was entirely characteristic of him, he fell upon his knees, and with -clasped hands rendered thanks to the Lord aloud. -</p> - -<p> -As he was finishing his prayer Scozzone ran out to say that <i>Madame</i> -Jacques Aubry desired to speak to him in private, having a letter from -her husband, which she could hand to none but Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto made Scozzone repeat the name twice, for he had no idea that -the student was in the hands of a lawful wife. -</p> - -<p> -He obeyed the summons none the less, leaving his companions swollen with -pride in their master's renown. Pagolo meanwhile, on scrutinizing the -statue more closely, observed that there was an imperfection in the -heel, some accident having prevented the metal from filling every part -of the mould. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap19_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XIX -<br /><br /> -JUPITER AND OLYMPUS</h4> - -<p> -On the same day that Benvenuto removed his statue from the mould, he -sent word to François I. that his Jupiter was cast, and asked him on -what day it was his pleasure that the King of Olympus should appear -before the King of France. -</p> - -<p> -François replied that his cousin, the Emperor, and he were to hunt in -the forest of Fontainebleau on the following Thursday, and that he need -do nothing more than have his statue transported to the grand gallery of -the château on that day. -</p> - -<p> -The reply was very short; it was evident that Madame d'Etampes had -strongly prejudiced the king against his favorite artist. But -Benvenuto—was it through pride or confidence in God?—said -simply, with a smile,— -</p> - -<p> -"It is well." -</p> - -<p> -It was Monday. Benvenuto caused the Jupiter to be loaded upon a wagon, -and rode beside it, not leaving it for an instant, lest some mishap -might befall it. On Thursday, at ten o'clock, statue and artist were at -Fontainebleau. -</p> - -<p> -To any one who saw Benvenuto, though it were only to see him ride by, it -was evident that pride and radiant hope were triumphant in his heart. -His conscience as an artist told him that he had executed a -<i>chef-d'œuvre</i>, and his honest heart that he was about to perform a -meritorious action. He was doubly joyous, therefore, and carried his -head high, like a man who, having no hatred in his heart, was equally -without fear. The king was to see his Jupiter, and could not fail to be -pleased with it; Montmorency and Poyet would remind him of his promise; -the Emperor and the whole court would be present, and François could -not do otherwise than as he had given his word to do. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes, with less innocent delight, but with quite as much -ardent passion, was maturing her plans. She had triumphed over Benvenuto -at the time of his first attempt to confound her by presenting himself -at her own hôtel and at the Louvre. The first danger was safely past, -but she felt that the king's promise to Benvenuto was a second equally -great danger, and it was her purpose, at any cost, to induce his Majesty -to disregard it. She therefore repaired to Fontainebleau one day in -advance of Cellini, and laid her wires with the profound feminine craft -which in her case almost amounted to genius. -</p> - -<p> -Cellini was destined very soon to feel its effects. -</p> - -<p> -He had no sooner crossed the threshold of the gallery where his Jupiter -was to be exhibited, than he felt the blow, recognized the hand that had -dealt it, and stood for a moment overwhelmed. -</p> - -<p> -This gallery, ordinarily resplendent with paintings by Rosso, which were -in themselves enough to distract the attention from almost any -masterpiece, had been embellished during the last three days by statues -sent from Rome by Primaticcio,—that is to say, the marvels of antique -sculpture, the types sanctified by the admiration of twenty centuries, -were there before him, challenging comparison, crushing all rivalry. -Ariadne, Venus, Hercules, Apollo, even Jupiter himself, the great -Olympian Jove,—ideal figures, dreams of genius, eternities in -bronze,—formed, as it were, a supernatural assemblage which it was -impious to approach, a sublime tribunal whose judgment every artist -should dread. -</p> - -<p> -There was something like profanation and blasphemy in the thought of -another Jupiter insinuating himself into that Olympus, of Benvenuto -throwing down the gauntlet to Phidias, and, notwithstanding his trust in -his own merit, the devout artist recoiled. -</p> - -<p> -Furthermore, the immortal statues had taken possession of all the best -places, as it was their right to do, and there was no place left for -Cellini's poor Jupiter but some dark corner which could only be reached -by passing under the stately and imposing glances of the ancient gods. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto stood in the doorway with bowed head, and with an expression -in which sadness and artistic gratification were mingled. -</p> - -<p> -"Messire Antoine Le Maçon," he said to the king's secretary, who stood -beside him, "I ought to and will send my Jupiter back instantly; the -disciple will not attempt to contend with the masters; the child will -not attempt to contend with his parents; my pride and my modesty alike -forbid!" -</p> - -<p> -"Benvenuto," replied the secretary, "take the advice of a sincere -friend,—if you do that, you are lost. I tell you this between -ourselves, that your enemies hope to discourage you, and then to allege -your discouragement as a proof of your lack of skill. It will be useless -for me to make excuses for you to the king. His Majesty, who is -impatient to see your work, would refuse to listen, and, with Madame -d'Etampes continually urging him to do it, would withdraw his favor from -you forever. She anticipates that result, and I fear it. It's with the -living, not with the dead, Benvenuto, that you have to contend." -</p> - -<p> -"You are right, messire," the goldsmith rejoined, "and I understand you -perfectly. Thank you for reminding me that I have no right to have any -self-esteem here." -</p> - -<p> -"That's all right, Benvenuto. But let me give you one more bit of -advice. Madame d'Etampes is too fascinating to-day not to have some -perfidious scheme in her head: she took the king and the Emperor off for -a ride in the forest with irresistible playfulness and charm; I am -afraid for your sake that she will find a way to keep them there until -dark." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you think it?" cried Benvenuto, turning pale. "Why, if she succeeds -in doing that, I am lost; for my statue would then have to be exhibited -by artificial light, which would deprive it of half its merit." -</p> - -<p> -"Let us hope that I am mistaken," said Le Maçon, "and see what comes to -pass." -</p> - -<p> -Cellini waited in painful suspense. He placed his Jupiter in as -favorable a light as possible, but he did not conceal from himself the -fact that its effect would be comparatively slight by twilight, and that -after nightfall it would be positively bad. The duchess's hatred had -reckoned no less accurately than the artist's skill; she anticipated in -1541 a trick of the critics of the nineteenth century. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto watched the sun sink toward the horizon with despair at his -heart, and listened eagerly to every sound without the château. Except -for the servants the vast structure was deserted. -</p> - -<p> -Three o'clock struck; thenceforth the purpose of Madame d'Etampes could -not be mistaken, and her success was beyond question. Benvenuto fell -upon a chair, utterly crushed. All was lost: his renown first of all. -That feverish struggle, in which he had been so near succumbing, and -which he had already forgotten because he had thought that it made his -triumph sure, would have no other result than to put him to shame. He -gazed sorrowfully at his statue, around which the shadows of night were -already beginning to fall, and whose lines began to appear less pure. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly an inspiration came to him; he sprang to his feet, called -little Jehan, whom he had brought with him, and rushed hastily from the -gallery. Nothing had yet occurred to suggest the king's return. -Benvenuto hurried to a cabinet-maker in the town, and with his -assistance and that of his workmen made, in less than an hour, a stand -of light-colored oak, with four rollers, which turned in every -direction, like casters. -</p> - -<p> -He trembled now lest the king should return too soon: but at five -o'clock the work was completed, night had fallen, and the crowned heads -had not returned to the château. Madame d'Etampes, wherever she was, -was in a fair way to triumph. -</p> - -<p> -In a very short time Benvenuto had the statue in place upon the almost -invisible stand. Jupiter held in his left hand the sphere representing -the world, and in his right, a little above his head, the thunderbolt, -which he seemed to be on the point of launching into space: amid the -tongues of the thunderbolt the goldsmith concealed a lamp. -</p> - -<p> -These preparations were hardly completed when a flourish of trumpets -announced the return of the king and the Emperor. Benvenuto lighted the -lamp, stationed little Jehan behind the statue, by which he was entirely -concealed, and awaited the king's coming, not without trepidation, -evidenced by the violent beating of his heart. -</p> - -<p> -Ten minutes later the folding doors were thrown wide open, and François -I. appeared, leading Charles V. by the hand. -</p> - -<p> -The Dauphin, Dauphine, the King of Navarre, and the whole court followed -the two monarchs; the provost, his daughter, and D'Orbec were among the -last. Colombe was pale and dejected, but as soon as she espied Cellini, -she raised her head, and a smile of sublime confidence appeared upon her -lips and lighted up her face. -</p> - -<p> -Cellini met her glance with one which seemed to say, "Have no fear; -whatever happens, do not despair, for I am watching over you." -</p> - -<p> -As the door opened, little Jehan, at a signal from his master, gave the -statue a slight push, so that it moved softly forward upon its smoothly -rolling stand, and, leaving the antique statues behind, went to meet the -king, so to speak, as if it were alive. Every eye was at once turned in -its direction. The soft light of the lamp falling from above produced an -effect much more agreeable than daylight. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes bit her lips. -</p> - -<p> -"Methinks, Sire," said she, "that the flattery is a little overdone, and -that it was for the king of earth to go to meet the king of heaven." -</p> - -<p> -The king smiled, but it was easy to see that the flattery did not offend -him; as his wont was, he forgot the artist for his art, saved the statue -half the journey by walking to meet it, and examined it for a long time -in silence. Charles V., who was by nature an astute politician rather -than a great artist, although he did one day, in a moment of good humor, -pick up Titian's pencil,—Charles V. and the courtiers, who were not -entitled to an opinion, waited respectfully to hear that of François -before pronouncing their own. -</p> - -<p> -There was a moment of silent suspense, during which Benvenuto and the -duchess exchanged a glance of bitter hatred. -</p> - -<p> -Suddenly the king cried,— -</p> - -<p> -"It is beautiful! it is very beautiful! and I confess that my -expectations are surpassed." -</p> - -<p> -Thereupon every one overflowed in compliments and extravagant praise, -the Emperor first of all. -</p> - -<p> -"If one could conquer artists like cities," said he to the king, "I -would declare war on you instantly, to win this one, my cousin." -</p> - -<p> -"But, after all," interrupted Madame d'Etampes, in a rage, "we do not -even look at the beautiful antique statues a little farther on, which -have somewhat more merit, perhaps, than our modern gewgaws." -</p> - -<p> -The king thereupon walked toward the antique statues, which were lighted -from below by the torches, so that the upper portions were in shadow; -they were beyond question much less effective than the Jupiter. -</p> - -<p> -"Phidias is sublime," said the king, "but there may be a Phidias in the -age of François I. and Charles V., as there was in the age of -Pericles." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, we must see it by daylight," said Anne, bitterly; "to appear to be -is not to be: an artificial light is not art. And what is that veil? is -it to conceal some defect, Master Cellini, tell us frankly?" -</p> - -<p> -She referred to a very light drapery thrown over the statue to give it -more majesty. -</p> - -<p> -Thus far Benvenuto had remained beside his statue, silent, and -apparently as cold as it; but at the duchess's words, he smiled -disdainfully, shot lightning from his black eyes, and, with the sublime -audacity of a heathen artist, snatched the veil away with his powerful -hand. -</p> - -<p> -He expected that the duchess would burst forth with renewed fury. -</p> - -<p> -But by an incredible exertion of her will power, she smiled with ominous -affability, and graciously held out her hand to Cellini, who was amazed -beyond measure by this sudden change of tactics. -</p> - -<p> -"I was wrong," she said aloud, in the tone of a spoiled child; "you are -a great sculptor, Cellini; forgive my critical remarks; give me your -hand, and let us be friends henceforth. What say you?" -</p> - -<p> -She added in an undertone, with extreme volubility: "Think well of what -you are about to ask, Cellini. Let it not be the marriage of Colombe and -Ascanio, or I swear that Colombe, Ascanio, and yourself, all three, are -undone forever!" -</p> - -<p> -"And suppose I request something else, madame," said Benvenuto, in the -same tone; "will you second my request?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said she, eagerly; "and I swear that, whatever it may be, the -king will grant it." -</p> - -<p> -"I have no need to request the king's sanction to the marriage of -Colombe and Ascanio, for you will request it yourself, madame." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess smiled disdainfully. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you whispering there?" said François. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes," Benvenuto replied, "was obliging enough -to remind me that your Majesty had promised to grant me a boon in case -you were content with my work." -</p> - -<p> -"And the promise was made in my presence, Sire," said the constable, -coming forward; "in my presence and Chancelier Poyet's. Indeed, you bade -my colleague and myself remind you—" -</p> - -<p> -"True, constable," interposed the king, good-humoredly; "true, if I -failed to remember myself; but I remember famously, on my word! So your -intervention, while it is perfectly agreeable to me, is quite useless. -I promised Benvenuto to grant whatever boon he might ask when his -Jupiter was cast. Was not that it, constable? Have I a good memory, -chancellor? It is for you to speak, Master Cellini: I am at your -service; but I beg you to think less of your own merit, which is -immense, than of our power, which is limited; we make no reservations, -saving our crown and our mistress." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, Sire," said Cellini, "since your Majesty is so well disposed -toward your unworthy servitor, I will ask for the pardon of a poor -student, who fell into a dispute upon the Quai du Châtelet with the -Vicomte de Marmagne, and in self-defence passed his sword through the -viscount's body." -</p> - -<p> -Every one marvelled at the moderation of his request, and Madame -d'Etampes most of all; she gazed at Benvenuto with an air of -stupefaction, and as if she thought that she could not have heard -aright. -</p> - -<p> -"By Mahomet's belly!" exclaimed François, "you do well to invoke my -right of pardon in that matter, for I heard the chancellor himself say -yesterday that it was a hanging affair." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, Sire!" cried the duchess, "I intended to speak to you myself -concerning that young man. I have had news of Marmagne, who is -improving, and who sent word to me that he sought the quarrel, and the -student—What is the student's name, Master Benvenuto?" -</p> - -<p> -"Jacques Aubry, Madame la Duchesse." -</p> - -<p> -"And the student," continued Madame d'Etampes, hurriedly, "was in no -wise in the wrong; and so, Sire, instead of rebuking Benvenuto, or -cavilling at him, grant his request promptly, lest he repent of having -been of modest." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well," said François; "what you desire shall be done, master; and -as he gives twice who gives quickly,—so says the proverb,—let -the order to set this young man at liberty be despatched to-night. Do you -hear, my dear chancellor?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire; and your Majesty shall be obeyed." -</p> - -<p> -"As to yourself, Master Benvenuto," said François, "come to me on -Monday at the Louvre, and we will adjust certain matters of detail in -which you are interested, and which have been somewhat neglected of late -by my treasurer." -</p> - -<p> -"But your Majesty knows that admission to the Louvre—" -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! very good! the person who gave the order can rescind it. It -was a war measure, and as you now have none but friends at court, -everything will be re-established upon a peace footing." -</p> - -<p> -"As your Majesty is in a granting mood," said the duchess, "I pray you -to grant a trifling request which I prefer, although I did not make the -Jupiter." -</p> - -<p> -"No," said Benvenuto in an undertone, "but you have often acted the part -of Danaë." -</p> - -<p> -"What is your request?" said François, who did not hear Benvenuto's -epigram. "Say on, Madame la Duchesse, and be sure that the solemnity of -the occasion can add nothing to my desire to be agreeable to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, Sire; your Majesty might well confer upon Messire -d'Estourville the great honor of signing on Monday next the marriage -contract of my young friend, Mademoiselle d'Estourville, with Comte -d'Orbec." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, I should be conferring no favor upon you by so doing," rejoined -the king, "but I should afford myself a very great pleasure, and should -still remain your debtor, I swear." -</p> - -<p> -"So it is agreed, Sire, for Monday?" asked the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"For Monday," said the king. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame la Duchesse," said Benvenuto, under his breath, "do you not -regret that the beautiful lily you ordered Ascanio to execute is not -finished, that you might wear it upon such an occasion?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of course I regret it," was the reply; "but it's impossible, for -Ascanio is in prison." -</p> - -<p> -"Very true, but I am free; I will finish it and bring it to Madame la -Duchesse." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! upon my honor! if you do that I will say—" -</p> - -<p> -"You will say what, madame?" -</p> - -<p> -"I will say that you are a delightful man." -</p> - -<p> -She gave her hand to Benvenuto, who gallantly imprinted a kiss upon it, -after asking the king's permission with a glance. -</p> - -<p> -At that moment a slight shriek was heard. -</p> - -<p> -"What is that?" the king asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, I ask your Majesty's pardon," said the provost, "but my daughter -is ill." -</p> - -<p> -"Poor child!" murmured Benvenuto; "she thinks that I have abandoned -her." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap20_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XX -<br /><br /> -A PRUDENT MARRIAGE</h4> - -<p> -Benvenuto would have returned to Paris the same evening, but the king -was so persistent that he could not avoid remaining at the château -until the following morning. -</p> - -<p> -With the rapidity of conception and promptness of decision which were -characteristic of him, he determined to arrange for the next day the -<i>dénouement</i> of a transaction which he began long before. It was a -collateral matter which he wished to have off his hands altogether -before devoting himself entirely to Ascanio and Colombe. -</p> - -<p> -He remained at the château to supper on that evening and until after -breakfast on the Friday, and not until noon did he set out on his return -journey, accompanied by little Jehan, after taking leave of the king and -Madame d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p> -Both were well mounted, and yet, contrary to his wont, Cellini did not -urge his horse. It was evident that he did not wish to enter Paris -before a certain hour, and it was seven o'clock in the evening when he -alighted at Rue de la Harpe. -</p> - -<p> -Furthermore, instead of betaking himself at once to the Hôtel de Nesle, -he called upon one of his friends named Guido, a physician from -Florence; and when he had made sure that his friend was at home, and -could conveniently entertain him at supper, he ordered little Jehan to -return alone, to say that he had remained at Fontainebleau and would not -return until the next day, and to be ready to open the door when he -should knock. Little Jehan at once set out for the Hôtel de Nesle, -promising to abide by his instructions. -</p> - -<p> -The supper was served,—but before they took their places at the table -Cellini asked his host if he did not know some honest and skilful notary -whom he could send for to prepare a contract that could not be assailed. -He recommended his son-in-law, who was immediately summoned. -</p> - -<p> -He arrived as they were finishing their supper, some half-hour later. -Benvenuto at once left the table, closeted himself with him, and bade -him draw up a marriage contract leaving the names in blank. When they -had read and re-read the contract, as drawn up, to make sure that there -was no flaw in it, Benvenuto paid him handsomely, put the contract in -his pocket, borrowed from his friend a second sword of just the length -of his own, put it under his cloak, and, as it had become quite dark, -started for the Hôtel de Nesle. -</p> - -<p> -When he reached his destination, he knocked once; but though he knocked -very gently, the door immediately opened. Little Jehan was at his post. -</p> - -<p> -Cellini questioned him: the workmen were at supper and did not expect -him until the morrow. He bade the child maintain the most absolute -silence as to his arrival, then crept up to Catherine's room, to which -he had retained a key, entered softly, closed the door, concealed -himself behind the hangings, and waited. -</p> - -<p> -After a short time, he heard a light footstep on the staircase. The door -opened a second time, and Scozzone entered, lamp in hand; she took the -key from the outside, locked the door, placed the lamp on the -chimneypiece, and sat down in a large arm-chair, so placed that -Benvenuto could see her face. -</p> - -<p> -To his vast astonishment, that face, formerly so open and joyous and -animated, was sad and thoughtful. The fact was that poor Scozzone was in -the throes of something very like remorse. -</p> - -<p> -We have seen her when she was happy and thoughtless: then Benvenuto -loved her. So long as she was conscious of that love, or rather of that -kindly feeling in her lover's heart, so long as the hope of becoming the -sculptor's wife some day was present like a golden cloud in all her -dreams, so long she maintained herself at the level of her -anticipations, and made atonement for her past by her love. But as soon -as she discovered that she had been deceived by appearances, and that -what she had mistaken for passion on Cellini's part was at most a mere -whim, she descended the ladder of hope round by round. Benvenuto's -smile, which had made that faded heart blossom anew, was taken from her, -and the heart lost its freshness once more. -</p> - -<p> -With her childish light-heartedness her childish purity had gradually -vanished; her old nature, powerfully assisted by ennui, gently recovered -the upper hand. A newly painted wall keeps its colors in the sun and -loses them in the rain: Scozzone, abandoned by Cellini for some unknown -mistress, was no longer held to him save by a remnant of her pride. -Pagolo had long paid court to her: she spoke to Cellini of his love, -thinking that his jealousy would be aroused. Her expectation was not -realized: Cellini, instead of losing his temper, began to laugh, and, -instead of forbidding her to see Pagolo, actually ordered her to receive -him. Thereafter she felt that she was entirely lost; thereafter she -abandoned her life to chance with her former indifference, and let it -blow about in the wind of circumstances like a poor, fallen withered -leaf. -</p> - -<p> -Then it was that Pagolo triumphed over her indifference. After all was -said, Pagolo was young; Pagolo, aside from his hypocritical expression, -was a handsome youth; Pagolo was in love, and was forever repeating to -her that he loved her, while Benvenuto had long since ceased to tell her -so. The words, "I love you," are the language of the heart, and the -heart always feels the need of speaking that language more or less -ardently with some one. -</p> - -<p> -Thus, in a moment of idleness, of anger, perhaps of illusion, Scozzone -had told Pagolo that she loved him; she had told him so without really -loving him; she had told him so with Cellini's image in her heart and -his name upon her lips. -</p> - -<p> -Then it immediately occurred to her that the day might come when -Cellini, weary of his mysterious, unavailing passion, would return to -her, and, if he found her constant, notwithstanding his express orders, -would reward her devotion, not by marriage, for the poor girl had lost -her last illusion in that regard, but by some remnant of esteem and -compassion which she might take for a resurrection of his former love. -</p> - -<p> -It was such thoughts as these which made Scozzone sad and thoughtful, -and caused her to feel remorse. -</p> - -<p> -In the midst of her silent reverie, she started and raised her head. She -heard a light step on the stairway, and the next moment a key was -rapidly turned in the lock, and the door opened. -</p> - -<p> -"How did you come in? Who gave you that key, Pagolo?" she cried, rising -from her chair. "There are only two keys to that door,—one is in my -possession and the other in Cellini's." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! my dear Catherine," laughed Pagolo, "you're a capricious creature: -sometimes you open your door to a fellow, and again you keep it closed; -and when one attempts to enter by force, even though you have given him -a right to do it, you threaten to call for help. So you see I had to -resort to stratagem." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh yes! tell me that you stole the key from Cellini, without his -knowledge; tell me that he doesn't know you have it, for if he gave it -to you I should die of shame and chagrin." -</p> - -<p> -"Set your mind at rest, my lovely Catherine," said Pagolo, locking the -door, and sitting down near the girl, whom he forced to a seat beside -him. "No, Benvenuto doesn't love you, it is true: but he's like those -misers who have a treasure of which they make no use themselves, but -which they won't allow anybody else to touch. No, I made the key myself. -He who can do great things can do small things. Tell me if I love you, -Catherine, when my hands, which are accustomed to making pearls and -diamonds bloom on golden stalks, consented to shape an ignoble piece of -iron. It is true, wicked one, that the ignoble piece of iron was a key, -and that the key unlocked the door of paradise." -</p> - -<p> -With that, Pagolo would have taken Catherine's hand, but, to the vast -amazement of Cellini, who did not lose a word or a gesture of this -scene, Catherine repulsed him. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well," said Pagolo, "is this whim likely to last long, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Look you, Pagolo," said Catherine, in a melancholy tone, which went to -Cellini's heart; "I know that when a woman has once yielded she has no -right to draw back afterward; but if the man for whom she has been so -weak has a generous heart,—when she says to him that she was -acting in good faith at the time, because she had lost her reason, but -that she was mistaken,—it is that man's duty, believe me, not to -take an unfair advantage of her momentary error. Well, Pagolo, I tell -you this: I yielded to you, and yet I did not love you; I loved another, -and that other Cellini. Despise me you may,—indeed you -ought,—but torment me no more, Pagolo." -</p> - -<p> -"Good!" exclaimed Pagolo, "good! you arrange the matter marvellously -well, upon my word! After the time you compelled me to wait for the -favor with which you now reproach me, you think that I will release you -from a definite engagement which you entered into of your own free will? -No, no! And when I think that you are doing all this for Benvenuto, for -a man who is twice your age or mine, for a man who doesn't love you, -for a man who despises you, for a man who treats you as a courtesan!" -</p> - -<p> -"Stop, Pagolo, stop!" cried Scozzone, blushing with shame and jealousy -and rage. "Benvenuto doesn't love me any more, that is true; but he did -love me once, and he esteems me still." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! Why doesn't he marry you, as he promised to do?" -</p> - -<p> -"Promised? Never. No, Benvenuto never promised to make me his wife; for -if he had promised, he would have done it. I aspired to mount so high as -that: the aspiration led me to hope that it might be so; and when the -hope had once taken shape in my heart, I could not confine it there, it -overflowed, and I boasted of a mere hope as if it were a reality. No, -Pagolo, no," continued Catherine, letting her hand fall into the -apprentice's with a sad smile,—"no, Benvenuto never promised me -aught." -</p> - -<p> -"Then, see how ungrateful you are, Scozzone!" cried Pagolo, seizing her -hand, and mistaking what was simply a mark of dejection for a return to -him; "you repulse me, who have promised you and offered you all that -Benvenuto, by your own admission, never promised or offered you, while I -am convinced that if he were standing there—he who betrayed -you—you would freely make to him the confession you so bitterly -regret having made to me, who love you so dearly." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh if he were here!" cried Scozzone, "if he were here, Pagolo, you -would remember that you betrayed him through hatred, while I betrayed -him because I loved him, and you would sink into the ground!" -</p> - -<p> -"Why so?" demanded Pagolo, bold as a lion because he believed Benvenuto -to be far away; "why so, if you please? Hasn't every man the right to -win a woman's love when that woman doesn't belong to another? If he were -here, I would say to him: 'You abandoned Catherine,—poor -Catherine, who loved you so well. She was in despair at first, until she -fell in with a kind-hearted, worthy fellow, who appreciated her at her -true worth, who loved her, and who promised her what you would never -promise her,—to make her his wife. He has inherited your rights, -and that woman belongs to him.' Tell me, Catherine, what reply your -Cellini could make to that?" -</p> - -<p> -"None at all," said a stern, manly voice behind the enthusiastic -Pagolo,—"absolutely none at all." -</p> - -<p> -At the same instant a powerful hand fell upon his shoulder, nipped his -eloquence in the bud, and threw him to the floor, as pale and terrified -as he had been boastful and rash a moment before. -</p> - -<p> -It was a strange picture: Pagolo on his knees, bent double, with -colorless cheeks, and deadly terror depicted on his features; Scozzone, -half risen from her chair, motionless and dumfounded, like a statue of -Astonishment; and lastly, Benvenuto standing with folded arms, a sword -in its sheath in one hand, a naked sword in the other, with an -expression in which irony and menace struggled for the mastery. -</p> - -<p> -There was a moment of awful silence, Pagolo and Scozzone being equally -abashed beneath the master's frown. -</p> - -<p> -"Treachery!" muttered Pagolo, "treachery!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, treachery on your part, wretch!" retorted Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"You asked to see him, Pagolo," said Scozzone; "here he is." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, here he is," said the apprentice, ashamed to be thus treated -before the woman he was so anxious to please; "but he is armed, and I -have no weapon." -</p> - -<p> -"I have brought you one," said Cellini, stepping back, and throwing down -the sword he held in his left hand at Pagolo's feet. -</p> - -<p> -Pagolo looked at the sword, but made no movement. -</p> - -<p> -"Come," said Cellini, "pick up the sword and stand up yourself. I am -waiting." -</p> - -<p> -"A duel?" muttered the apprentice, whose teeth were chattering with -terror; "am I able to fight a duel on equal terms with you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Very well," said Cellini, passing his weapon from one hand to the -other, "I will fight with my left hand, and that will make us equal." -</p> - -<p> -"I fight with you, my benefactor?—you, to whom I owe everything? -Never! never!" -</p> - -<p> -A smile of profound contempt overspread Benvenuto's face, while Scozzone -recoiled without seeking to conceal the disgust which showed itself in -her expression. -</p> - -<p> -"You should have remembered my benefactions before stealing from me the -woman I intrusted to your honor and Ascanio's," said Benvenuto. "Your -memory has come back to you too late. On guard, Pagolo! on guard!" -</p> - -<p> -"No! no!" murmured the coward, falling back upon his knees. -</p> - -<p> -"As you refuse to fight like an honest man," said Benvenuto, "I propose -to punish you as a scoundrel." -</p> - -<p> -He replaced his sword in its sheath, drew his dagger, and walked slowly -toward the apprentice without the slightest indication either of anger -or compassion upon his impassive features. -</p> - -<p> -Scozzone rushed between them with a shriek; but Benvenuto, without -violence, with a motion of his arm as irresistible as that of a bronze -statue endowed with life, put her aside, and the poor girl fell back -half dead upon her chair. Benvenuto walked on toward Pagolo, who receded -as far as the wall. There the master overtook him, and said, putting his -dagger to his throat,— -</p> - -<p> -"Commend your soul to God: you have five minutes to live." -</p> - -<p> -"Mercy!" cried Pagolo in an inarticulate voice; "do not kill me! mercy! -mercy!" -</p> - -<p> -"What!" said Cellini, "you know me, and, knowing me, seduced the woman -who belonged to me. I know all, I have discovered everything, and you -hope that I will spare you! You are laughing at me, Pagolo, you are -laughing at me." -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto himself laughed aloud as he spoke; but it was a strident, -terrible laugh, which made the apprentice shudder to his marrow. -</p> - -<p> -"Master! master!" cried Pagolo, as he felt the point of the dagger -pricking his throat; "it was she, not I: yes, she led me into it." -</p> - -<p> -"Treachery, cowardice, and slander! I will make a group of those three -monsters some day," said Benvenuto, "and it will be a hideous thing to -see. She led you into it, you reptile! Do you forget that I was here and -heard all that you said?" -</p> - -<p> -"O Benvenuto," murmured Catherine, "you know that he lies when he says -that, do you not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes," said Benvenuto, "I know that he lies when he says that, as -he lied when he said that he was ready to marry you; but never fear, he -shall be punished for the double lie." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, punish me," cried Pagolo, "but be merciful: punish me, but do not -kill me." -</p> - -<p> -"You lied when you said that she led you into it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I lied; yes, I am the guilty one. I loved her madly; and you know, -master, what love will lead a man to do." -</p> - -<p> -"You lied when you said that you were ready to marry her?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, no, master; then I didn't lie." -</p> - -<p> -"So you really love Scozzone?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes, indeed I love her!" replied Pagolo, realizing that the only -way of lessening his guilt in Cellini's eyes was to attribute his crime -to the violence of his passion; "yes, I love her." -</p> - -<p> -"And you say again that you were not lying when you proposed to marry -her?" -</p> - -<p> -"I was not lying, master." -</p> - -<p> -"You would have made her your wife?" -</p> - -<p> -"If she had not belonged to you, yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, then, take her: I give her to you." -</p> - -<p> -"What do you say? You are joking, are you not?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, I never spoke more seriously: look at me if you doubt it." -</p> - -<p> -Pagolo glanced furtively at Cellini, and saw plainly in his face that -the judge might at any moment give place to the executioner; he bowed -his head, therefore, with a groan. -</p> - -<p> -"Take that ring from your finger, Pagolo, and put it on Catherine's." -</p> - -<p> -Pagolo passively obeyed the first portion of the order, and Benvenuto -motioned to Scozzone to draw near. She obeyed. -</p> - -<p> -"Put out your hand, Scozzone," continued Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -Again she obeyed. -</p> - -<p> -"Now do the rest." -</p> - -<p> -Pagolo placed the ring upon Scozzone's finger. -</p> - -<p> -"Now," said Benvenuto, "that the betrothal is duly accomplished, we will -pass to the marriage." -</p> - -<p> -"Marriage!" muttered Pagolo; "we can't be married in this way; we must -have notaries and a priest." -</p> - -<p> -"We must have a contract," rejoined Benvenuto, producing the one -prepared under his orders. "Here is one all ready, in which the names -only need to be inserted." -</p> - -<p> -He placed the contract upon a table, took up a pen and handed it to -Pagolo. -</p> - -<p> -"Sign, Pagolo," said he, "sign." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! I have fallen into a trap," muttered the apprentice. -</p> - -<p> -"Eh? what's that?" exclaimed Benvenuto, without raising his voice, but -imparting to it an ominous accent. "A trap? Where is the trap in this? -Did I urge you to come to Scozzone's room? Did I advise you to tell her -that you wished to make her your wife? Very good! make her your wife, -Pagolo, and when you are her husband our <i>rôles</i> will be changed; if -I come to her room, it will be your turn to threaten, and mine to be -afraid." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, that would be too absurd!" cried Catherine, passing from extreme -terror to hysterical gayety, and laughing aloud at the idea which the -master's words evoked. -</p> - -<p> -Somewhat reassured by the turn Cellini's threats had taken, and by -Catherine's peals of laughter, Pagolo began to look at matters a little -more reasonably. It became plain to him that Cellini wished to frighten -him into a marriage for which he felt but little inclination: he -considered, therefore, that would be rather too tragic a -termination of the comedy, and that he might perhaps, with a little -resolution, make a better bargain. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," he muttered, translating Scozzone's gayety into words, "yes, it -would be very amusing, I agree, but unfortunately it cannot be." -</p> - -<p> -"What! it cannot be!" cried Benvenuto, as amazed as a lion might be to -find a fox demurring to his will. -</p> - -<p> -"No, it cannot be," Pagolo repeated; "I prefer to die: kill me!" -</p> - -<p> -The words were hardly out of his mouth when Cellini was upon him. Pagolo -saw the dagger gleaming in the air, and threw himself to one side, so -swiftly and successfully that the blow which was intended for him simply -grazed his shoulder, and the blade, impelled by the goldsmith's powerful -hand, penetrated the wainscoting to the depth of several inches. -</p> - -<p> -"I consent," cried Pagolo. "Mercy! Cellini, I consent; I am ready to do -anything." And while the master was withdrawing the dagger, which had -come in contact with the wall behind the wainscoting, he ran to the -table where the contract lay, seized the pen, and wrote his name. The -whole affair had taken place so rapidly that Scozzone had no time to -take part in it. -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, Pagolo," said she, wiping away the tears which terror had -brought to her eyes, and at the same time repressing an inclination to -smile; "thanks, dear Pagolo, for the honor you consent to confer upon -me; but it's better that we should understand each other thoroughly now, -so listen to me. Just now you would have none of me, and now I will have -none of you. I don't say this to mortify you, Pagolo, but I do not love -you, and I desire to remain as I am." -</p> - -<p> -"In that case," said Benvenuto, with the utmost coolness, "if you won't -have him, Scozzone, he must die." -</p> - -<p> -"Why," cried Catherine, "it is I who refuse him." -</p> - -<p> -"He must die," rejoined Benvenuto; "it shall not be said that a man -insulted me, and went unpunished. Are you ready, Pagolo?" -</p> - -<p> -"Catherine," cried the apprentice, "Catherine, in Heaven's name take -pity on me! Catherine, I love you! Catherine, I will love you always! -Sign, Catherine! Catherine be my wife, I beg you on my knees!" -</p> - -<p> -"Come, Scozzone, decide quickly," said Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" said Catherine, pouting, "tell me, master, don't you think you are -rather hard on me, who have loved you so dearly, and who have dreamed of -something so different? But," cried the fickle child, passing suddenly -from melancholy to merriment once more, "Mon Dieu! Cellini, see what a -piteous face poor Pagolo is making! Oh, for Heaven's sake, put aside -that lugubrious expression, Pagolo, or I will never consent to take you -for my husband! Really, you are too absurd!" -</p> - -<p> -"Save me first, Catherine," said Pagolo; "then we will laugh, if you -choose." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh well! my poor boy, if you really and truly wish it—" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, indeed I do!" -</p> - -<p> -"You know what I have been, you know what I am?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I know." -</p> - -<p> -"You are not deceived in me?" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"You will not regret it?" -</p> - -<p> -"No! no!" -</p> - -<p> -"Then give me your hand. It's very ridiculous, and I hardly expected it; -but, no matter, I am your wife." -</p> - -<p> -She took the pen and signed, as a dutiful wife should do, below her -husband's signature. -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, Catherine, thanks!" cried Pagolo; "you will see how happy I -will make you." -</p> - -<p> -"If he is false to that promise," said Benvenuto, "write to me, -Scozzone, and wherever I may be I will come in person to remind him of -it." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, Cellini slowly pushed his dagger back into its sheath, -keeping his eyes fixed upon the apprentice; then he took the contract, -folded it neatly, and put it in his pocket, and said to Pagolo, with the -withering sarcasm which was characteristic of him:— -</p> - -<p> -"Now, friend Pagolo, although you and Scozzone are duly married -according to the laws of men, you are not in God's sight, and the Church -will not sanctify your union until to-morrow. Until then your presence -here would be in contravention of all laws, divine and human. Good -night, Pagolo." -</p> - -<p> -Pagolo turned pale as death; but as Benvenuto pointed imperatively to -the door, he backed out of the room. -</p> - -<p> -"No one but you, Cellini, would ever have had such an idea as that," -said Catherine, laughing as if she would die. "Hark ye, my poor Pagolo," -she said, as he opened the door, "I let you go because the law requires -it; but never fear, Pagolo, I swear by the Blessed Virgin, that when you -are my husband no man, not even Benvenuto himself, will find me anything -but a virtuous wife. -</p> - -<p> -"O Cellini!" she added, gayly, when the door was closed, "you give me a -husband, but relieve me of his presence for to-day. It is so much time -gained: you owed me this reparation." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap21_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XXI -<br /><br /> -RESUMPTION OF HOSTILITIES</h4> - -<p> -Three days after the scene we have described, a scene of quite another -sort was in preparation at the Louvre. -</p> - -<p> -Monday, the day appointed for signing the contract, had arrived. It was -eleven o'clock in the morning when Benvenuto left the Hôtel de Nesle, -went straight to the Louvre, and with anxious heart but firm step -ascended the grand staircase. -</p> - -<p> -In the reception-room, into which he was first ushered, he found the -provost and D'Orbec, who were conferring with a notary in the corner. -Colombe, pale and motionless as a statue, was seated on the other side -of the room, staring into vacancy. They had evidently moved away from -her so that she could not hear, and the poor child had remained where -they placed her. -</p> - -<p> -Cellini passed in front of her, and let these words fall upon her bowed -head:— -</p> - -<p> -"Have courage: I am here." -</p> - -<p> -Colombe recognized his voice, and raised her head with a cry of joy; but -before she had time to question her protector, he had already entered -the adjoining room. -</p> - -<p> -An usher drew aside a tapestry portière, and the goldsmith passed into -the king's cabinet. -</p> - -<p> -Nothing less than these words of cheer would have availed to revive -Colombo's courage: the poor child believed that she was abandoned, and -consequently lost. Messire d'Estourville had dragged her thither, half -dead, despite her faith in God and in Benvenuto. As they were setting -out, she was conscious of such a feeling of despair at her heart, that -she implored Madame d'Etampes to allow her to enter a convent, promising -to renounce Ascanio provided that she might be spared Comte d'Orbec. But -the duchess wanted no half victory; in order that her purpose might be -attained, it was essential that Ascanio should believe in the treachery -of his beloved, and so she sternly refused to listen to poor Colombe's -prayers. Thereupon, Colombe summoned all her courage, remembering that -Benvenuto bade her be strong and brave, even at the altar's foot, and -with occasional sinkings of the heart allowed herself to be taken to the -Louvre, where the king was to sign the contract at noon. -</p> - -<p> -There again her strength failed her for a moment; for but three chances -now remained, to touch the king's heart with her prayers, to see -Benvenuto arrive, or to die of grief. -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto had come; Benvenuto had told her to hope, and Colombe's -courage revived once more. -</p> - -<p> -On entering the king's cabinet, Cellini found Madame d'Etampes alone: it -was all that he desired; he would have solicited the honor of seeing her -had she not been there. -</p> - -<p> -The duchess was thoughtful in her hour of triumph, and yet, with the -fatal letter burned—burned by herself—she was fully -convinced that she had nothing to fear. But although she was reassured -as to her power, she contemplated with dismay the perils that threatened -her love. It was always thus with the duchess: when the anxiety -attendant upon her ambition was at rest, the ardent passions of her -heart devoured her. Her dream, in which pride and passion were mingled, -was to make Ascanio great while making him happy. But she knew now that -Ascanio, although of noble origin, (for the Gaddis, to which family he -belonged, were patricians of long standing at Florence,) aspired to no -other glory than that of being a great artist. -</p> - -<p> -If his hopes were ever fixed upon anything, it was some beautifully -shaped vase, or ewer, or statue; if he ever longed for diamonds or -pearls, it was so that he might make of them, by setting them in chased -gold, lovelier flowers than those which heaven waters with its dew. -Titles and honors were nothing to him if they did not flow from his own -talent, and were not the guerdon of his personal renown; what part could -such a useless dreamer play in the active, agitated life of the duchess? -In the first storm the delicate plant would be destroyed, with the -flowers which it already bore and the fruit of which it gave promise. It -might be that he would allow himself to be drawn into the schemes of his -royal mistress through discouragement or through indifference; but in -that case, a pale and melancholy shadow, he would live only in his -memories of the past. Ascanio, in fine, appeared to the Duchesse -d'Etampes, as he really was, an exquisite, fascinating personality, so -long as he remained in a pure, untroubled atmosphere; he was an adorable -child, who would never become a man. He could devote himself to -sentiments, but never to ideas; born to enjoy the outpourings of a -mutual affection, he would inevitably go down in the first terrific -onset of the struggle for supremacy and power. He was the man needed to -satisfy Madame d'Etampes's passion, but not to keep pace with her in her -ambitious schemes. -</p> - -<p> -Such was the tenor of her reflections when Benvenuto entered: the clouds -of her thought hovering about her darkened her brow. -</p> - -<p> -The two adversaries eyed each other narrowly: the same satirical smile -appeared upon their lips at the same time; the glances they exchanged -were twin brothers, and indicated that they were equally prepared for -the struggle, and that 'the struggle would be a desperate one. -</p> - -<p> -"Well and good! he is a rough fighter," thought Anne, "whom it will be a -pleasure to overcome, a foeman worthy of my steel. But to-day there are, -in truth, too many chances against him, and there will be no great glory -in overthrowing him." -</p> - -<p> -"Beyond question, Madame d'Etampes," said Benvenuto to himself, "you are -a masterful woman, and more than one contest with a strong man has given -me less trouble than this I have entered upon with you. You may be sure, -therefore, that, while fighting courteously, I shall none the less fight -with all the weapons at my disposal." -</p> - -<p> -There was a moment's silence while the combatants delivered themselves -of these brief monologues aside. The duchess was the first to break the -silence. -</p> - -<p> -"You are punctual, Master Cellini," said she. "His Majesty is to sign -Comte d'Orbec's contract at noon, and it is now only a quarter past -eleven. Permit me to make his Majesty's excuses: he is not behindhand, -but you are beforehand." -</p> - -<p> -"I am very happy, madame, that I arrived too early, as my impatience -procures me the honor of a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with you,—an honor I -should have requested most urgently, had not chance, to which I return my -thanks, anticipated my wishes." -</p> - -<p> -"Good lack, Benvenuto!" said the duchess; "does defeat incline you to -flattery?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not my own defeat, madame, but that of other persons. I have always -considered it peculiarly meritorious to pay my court to one in disgrace; -and here is the proof of it, madame." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, Benvenuto drew from beneath his cloak Ascanio's golden -lily, which he had completed that morning. The duchess exclaimed with -wonder and delight. Never had her eyes beheld such a marvellous jewel, -never did one of the flowers found in the enchanted gardens of the -"Thousand and One Nights" so dazzle the eyes of peri or fairy. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah!" cried the duchess, putting forth her hand to take the flower, "you -promised me, Benvenuto, but I confess that I did not rely upon your -promise." -</p> - -<p> -"Why should you not rely upon it, madame?" laughed Benvenuto. "You -insult me." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! if you had promised to perform a revengeful, instead of a gallant -act, I should have been much more certain that you would redeem your -promise punctually." -</p> - -<p> -"Who told you that I did not promise both?" retorted Benvenuto, drawing -back his hand, so that the lily was still in his control. -</p> - -<p> -"I do not understand you," said the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you not think," said Benvenuto, pointing to the diamond shimmering -in the heart of the flower—the diamond which she owed to the -corrupting munificence of Charles V.—"that when mounted in the -guise of a dewdrop, the earnest given to bind a certain bargain which is -to set off the Duchy of Milan from France has a fine effect?" -</p> - -<p> -"You speak in enigmas, my dear goldsmith; unfortunately the king will -soon be here, and I haven't time to guess them." -</p> - -<p> -"I will tell you the answer, then. It is an old proverb, <i>Verba, volant, -scripta manent</i>, which, being interpreted, means, 'What is written is -written.'" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! that's where you are in error, my dear goldsmith; what is written -is burned: so do not think to frighten me as you would a child, and give -me the lily which belongs to me." -</p> - -<p> -"One instant, madame; I ought to warn you that while it is a magic -talisman in my hands, it will lose all its virtue in yours. My work is -even more valuable than you think. Where the multitude sees only a -jewel, we artists sometimes conceal an idea. Do you wish me to show you -this idea, madame? Nothing is easier: look, all that is necessary is to -press this invisible spring. The stalk opens, as you see, and in the -heart of the flower we find, not a gnawing worm, as in some natural -flowers and some false hearts, but something similar, worse it may -be,—the dishonor of the Duchesse d'Etampes, written with her own -hand and signed by her." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, Benvenuto pressed the spring, opened the stalk, and took -out the letter. He slowly unfolded it, and showed it, open, to the -duchess, pale with wrath, and stricken dumb with dismay. -</p> - -<p> -"You hardly expected this, did you, madame?" said Benvenuto, coolly, -folding the letter once more, and replacing it in the lily. "If you knew -my ways, madame, you would be less surprised. A year ago I concealed a -ladder in a statuette; a month ago I concealed a maiden in a statue. -What was there that I could hide away in a flower to-day? A bit of -paper, that was all, and that is what I have done." -</p> - -<p> -"But that letter," cried the duchess, "that infernal letter I burned -with my own hands: I saw the flame and touched the ashes!" -</p> - -<p> -"Did you read the letter you burned?" -</p> - -<p> -"No! no! madwoman that I was, I did not read it!" -</p> - -<p> -"That is too bad, for you would be convinced now that the letter of a -grisette will make as much flame and ashes as the letter of a duchess." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, then, Ascanio, the dastard, deceived me!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh madame! pray pause! Do not suspect that pure and innocent child, -who, even if he had deceived you, would have done no more than turn -against you the weapons you used against him. Oh no, no! he did not -deceive you; he would not purchase his own life or Colombe's by deceit! -No, he was himself deceived." -</p> - -<p> -"By whom? Pray tell me that." -</p> - -<p> -"By a mere boy, a student, the same who wounded your trusty retainer, -Vicomte de Marmagne; by one Jacques Aubry, in short, whom it is likely -that the Vicomte de Marmagne has mentioned to you." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," murmured the duchess, "yes, Marmagne did tell me that this -student, this Jacques Aubry, was seeking to gain access to Ascanio in -order to secure that letter." -</p> - -<p> -"And it was after that you paid Ascanio a visit. But students are -active, you know, and ours had already anticipated you. As you left the -Hôtel d'Etampes, he was creeping into his friend's cell, and as you -entered it, he went out." -</p> - -<p> -"But I didn't see him; I saw nobody." -</p> - -<p> -"One doesn't think to look everywhere; if you had done so, you would, in -due course, have raised a certain mat, and under that mat would have -found a hole communicating with the adjoining cell." -</p> - -<p> -"But Ascanio, Ascanio?" -</p> - -<p> -"When you entered he was asleep, was he not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! during his sleep, Aubry, to whom he had refused to give the -letter, took it from his coat pocket, and put a letter of his own in its -place. You were misled by the envelope, and thought that you were -burning a note from Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes. Not so, madame; you -burned an epistle penned by Mademoiselle Gervaise-Perrette Popinot." -</p> - -<p> -"But this Aubry, who wounded Marmagne, this clown, who almost murdered a -nobleman, will pay dear for his insolence; he is in prison and condemned -to death." -</p> - -<p> -"He is free, madame, and owes his freedom in great measure to you." -</p> - -<p> -"How so?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, who but he was the poor prisoner whose pardon you joined me in -urging upon King François?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh insane fool that I was!" muttered the duchess, biting her lips till -the blood ran. She looked Benvenuto squarely in the eye for a moment, -then continued, in a panting voice,— -</p> - -<p> -"On what condition will you give me that letter?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think I have allowed you to guess, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"I am not skilled in guessing: tell me." -</p> - -<p> -"You must ask the king to bestow Colombe's hand upon Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Go to!" rejoined Anne with a forced laugh; "you little know the -Duchesse d'Etampes, Master Goldsmith, if you fancy that my love will -yield to threats." -</p> - -<p> -"You did not reflect before answering me, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"I stand by my answer, however." -</p> - -<p> -"Kindly permit me to sit down unceremoniously, madame, and to talk -plainly with you a moment," said Benvenuto, with the dignified -familiarity peculiar to superior men. "I am only an humble sculptor, and -you are a great duchess; but let me tell you that, notwithstanding the -distance which separates us, we were made to understand each other. Do -not assume those queenly airs: they will have no effect. It is not my -purpose to insult you, but to enlighten you, and your haughty manner is -out of place because your pride is not at stake." -</p> - -<p> -"You are a strange man, upon my word," said Anne, laughing in spite of -herself. "Say on, I am listening." -</p> - -<p> -"I was saying, Madame la Duchesse," continued Benvenuto, coolly, "that, -despite the difference in our fortunes, our positions are almost the -same, and that we could understand each other, and perhaps mutually -assist each other. You cried out when I suggested that you should -renounce Ascanio; it seemed to you impossible and mad, and yet I had set -you an example, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"An example?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, as you love Ascanio, I loved Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"You?" -</p> - -<p> -"I. I loved her as I had never loved but once. I would have given my -blood, my life, my soul for her, and yet I gave her to Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -"Truly a most unselfish passion," sneered the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh! do not make my suffering matter for raillery, madame; do not mock -at my agony. I have suffered keenly; but I realized that the child was -no more made for me than Ascanio for you. Listen, madame: we are both, -if I may be pardoned for the comparison, of those exceptional and -uncommon natures which lead an existence of their own, have feelings and -emotions peculiar to themselves, and rarely find themselves in accord -with others. We both obey, madame, a sovereign idol, the worship of -which has expanded our hearts and placed us higher than mankind. To you, -madame, ambition is all in all; to me, art. Now our divinities are -jealous, and exert their sway always and everywhere. You desired Ascanio -as a crown, I desired Colombe as a Galatea. You loved as a duchess, I as -an artist. You have persecuted, I have suffered. Oh! do not think that -I wrong you in my thoughts; I admire your energy, and sympathize with -your audacity. Let the vulgar think what they will: from your point of -view it is a great thing to turn the world upside down in order to make -a place for the person one loves. I recognize therein a strong and -masterful passion, and I admire characters capable of such heroic -crimes; but I also admire superhuman characters, for everything which -eludes foresight, everything outside the beaten paths, has an attraction -for me. Even while I loved Colombe, madame, I considered that my -domineering, unruly nature would be ill mated with that pure angelic -soul. Colombe loved Ascanio, my harmless, sweet-natured pupil; my rough, -vigorous temperament would have frightened her. Thereupon, in a loud, -imperative tone, I bade my love hold its peace, and as it remonstrated I -called to my assistance my art divine, and by our united efforts we -floored the rebellious passion and held it down. Then Sculpture, my -true, my only mistress, touched my brow with her burning lips, and I was -comforted. Do as I have done, Madame la Duchesse, leave these children -to their angel loves and do not disturb them in their heaven. Our domain -is earth, with its sorrows, its conflicts, and its intoxicating -triumphs. Seek a refuge against suffering in ambition; unmake empires to -distract your thoughts; play with the kings and masters of the world to -amuse yourself. That would be well done, and I would applaud your -efforts. But do not wreck the peace and happiness of these poor -innocents, who love each other with such a pure, sweet love, before the -face of God and the Virgin Mary." -</p> - -<p> -"Who are you, Master Benvenuto Cellini? I do not know you," said the -duchess in blank amazement. "Who are you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Vrai Dieu! a man among men, as you are a woman among women," rejoined -the goldsmith, laughing with his customary frankness; "and if you do not -know me, you see that I have a great advantage over you, for I do know -you, madame." -</p> - -<p> -"It may be so," said the duchess, "but it is my opinion that a woman -among women loves better and more earnestly than a man among men, for -she snaps her fingers at your superhuman abnegation, and defends her -lover with beak and claws to the last gasp." -</p> - -<p> -"You persist, then, in refusing to give Ascanio to Colombe?" -</p> - -<p> -"I persist in loving him myself." -</p> - -<p> -"So be it. But if you will not yield with good grace, beware! I am -somewhat rough when I am roused, and may make you cry out a little in -the <i>mêlée</i>. You have reflected fully, have you not? You refuse once -for all your consent to the union of Ascanio and Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"Most emphatically, yes." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good! to our posts!" cried Benvenuto, "for the battle is on." -</p> - -<p> -At that moment the door opened and an usher announced the king. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap22_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XXII -<br /><br /> -A LOVE MATCH</h4> - -<p> -François appeared on the threshold, giving his hand to Diane de -Poitiers, with whom he had come from the bedside of his sick son. Diane, -inspired by her hatred, had a vague feeling that her rival was -threatened with humiliation, and did not choose to miss the gratifying -spectacle. -</p> - -<p> -As for the king, he saw nothing, suspected nothing; he believed Madame -d'Etampes and Benvenuto to be entirely reconciled, and as he saw them -talking together when he entered, he saluted them both at once, with the -same smile, and the same inclination of the head. -</p> - -<p> -"Good morrow, my queen of beauty; good morrow, my king of artists," he -said; "what are you talking about so confidentially? You seem both to be -deeply interested." -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! Sire, we are talking politics," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"And what particular subject exercises your faculties? Tell me, I beg." -</p> - -<p> -"The question which engrosses everybody at present, Sire," continued the -goldsmith. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! the Duchy of Milan." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what were you saying of it?" -</p> - -<p> -"We do not agree, Sire; one of us maintains that the Emperor might well -refuse to give you the Duchy of Milan, and yet redeem his promise by -giving it to your son Charles." -</p> - -<p> -"Which of you makes that suggestion?" -</p> - -<p> -"I think that it was Madame d'Etampes, Sire." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess became pale as death. -</p> - -<p> -"If the Emperor should do that, it would be infamous treachery," said -François; "but he'll not do it." -</p> - -<p> -"In any event, even if he does not do it," said Diane, joining in the -conversation, "it will not be, I am assured, for lack of advice given -him to that effect." -</p> - -<p> -"Given by whom?" cried the king. "By Mahomet's belly! I would be glad to -know by whom?" -</p> - -<p> -"Bon Dieu! do not be so disturbed, Sire," rejoined Benvenuto; "we said -that as we said other things,—simple conjectures, put forward by us -in desultory talk. Madame la Duchesse and I are but bungling politicians, -Sire. Madame la Duchesse is too much of a woman to think of aught beside -her toilet, although she has no need to think of that; and I, Sire, am -too much of an artist to think of aught beside art. Is it not so, Madame -la Duchesse?" -</p> - -<p> -"The truth is, my dear Cellini," said François, "that each of you has -too glorious a part to play to envy others aught that they may have, -even though it were the Duchy of Milan. Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes is -queen by virtue of her beauty, and you are king by virtue of your -talent." -</p> - -<p> -"King, Sire?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, king; and although you haven't, as I have, three lilies in your -crest, you have one in your hand, which seems to me to be lovelier than -any that ever blossomed in the brightest sunlight or upon the fairest -field in all heraldry." -</p> - -<p> -"This lily is not mine, Sire; it belongs to Madame d'Etampes, who -commissioned my pupil Ascanio to make it; but as he could not finish it, -and as I realized Madame d'Etampes's desire to have so rich a jewel in -her possession, I set to work myself and finished it, wishing with all -my heart to make it the symbol of the treaty of peace which we ratified -the other day in your Majesty's presence." -</p> - -<p> -"It is marvellously beautiful," said the king, putting out his hand to -take it. -</p> - -<p> -"Is it not, sire?" rejoined Benvenuto, withdrawing it as if without -design, "and the young artist, whose <i>chef-d'œuvre</i> it is, certainly -deserves to be magnificently rewarded." -</p> - -<p> -"Such is my purpose," interposed the duchess; "I have in store for him a -recompense which a king might envy him." -</p> - -<p> -"But you know, madame, that the recompense to which you refer, splendid -as it is, is not that upon which his heart is fixed. What would you -have, madame? We artists are whimsical creatures, and often the thing -which would, as you say, arouse a king's envy, is viewed by us with -disdainful eye." -</p> - -<p> -"Nevertheless," said Madame d'Etampes, as an angry flush overspread her -face, "he must be content with what I have set apart for him; for I have -already told you, Benvenuto, that I would accord him no other save at -the last extremity." -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, you may confide to me what his wishes are," said François -to Benvenuto, once more putting out his hand for the lily, "and if it's -not too difficult a matter, we will try to arrange it." -</p> - -<p> -"Observe the jewel carefully, Sire," said Benvenuto, placing the stalk -of the flower in the king's hand; "examine it in detail, and your -Majesty will see that any compensation whatsoever must fall short of the -value of such a masterpiece." -</p> - -<p> -As he spoke, Benvenuto darted a keen glance at the duchess; but her -self-control was so perfect, that not a muscle of her face moved as she -saw the lily pass from the artist's hand to the king's. -</p> - -<p> -"'T is really miraculous," said the king. "But where did you find this -superb diamond which glistens in the heart of the flower?" -</p> - -<p> -"I did not find it, Sire," replied Cellini, with charming affability; -"Madame d'Etampes furnished it to my pupil." -</p> - -<p> -"I was not aware that you owned this diamond, madame; whence came it to -your hands, pray?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why, probably from the place where most diamonds come from, Sire; from -the mines of Guzarate or Golconda." -</p> - -<p> -"There is a long story connected with that diamond, Sire, and if your -Majesty cares to hear it, I will tell it you. The diamond and I are old -acquaintances, for this is the third time it has passed through my -hands. In the first place, I set it in the tiara of our Holy Father, the -Pope, where its effect was marvellous; then, by order of Clement VII., I -mounted it upon a missal which his Holiness presented to the Emperor -Charles V.; and as the Emperor desired to carry it constantly about him, -as a resource doubtless in an emergency, I set the diamond, which is -worth more than a million, in a ring, Sire. Hid not your Majesty observe -it on the hand of your cousin, the Emperor?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I remember," cried the king; "yes, on the day of our first -interview he had it on his finger. How comes the diamond in your -possession, duchess!" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, tell us," cried Diane, whose eyes shone with joy, "how came it -about that a diamond of that value passed from the Emperor's hands to -yours?" -</p> - -<p> -"If the question were put to you, madame," retorted Madame d'Etampes, -"the answer would not be far to seek, assuming that you confess certain -matters to any other than your confessor." -</p> - -<p> -"You do not answer the king's question, madame," rejoined Diane. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," said François, "how comes the diamond in your possession?" -</p> - -<p> -"Ask Benvenuto," said Madame d'Etampes, hurling a last defiance at her -enemy; "Benvenuto will tell you." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me, then," said the king, "and instantly: I am weary of waiting." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, Sire," said Benvenuto; "I must confess to your Majesty that -at sight of this diamond strange suspicions awoke in my mind, as in -yours. It was while Madame d'Etampes and myself were at enmity, you must -know, and I should not have been sorry to learn some little secret which -might injure her in your Majesty's eyes. So I followed the scent, and I -learned—" -</p> - -<p> -"You learned?" -</p> - -<p> -Benvenuto glanced hastily at the duchess, and saw that she was smiling. -The power of resistance which she manifested pleased him, and, instead -of putting an end to the struggle brutally with one stroke, he resolved -to prolong it, like au athlete, sure of victory in the end, who, having -fallen in with an antagonist worthy of him, resolves to display all his -strength and all his skill. -</p> - -<p> -"You learned—" the king repeated. -</p> - -<p> -"I learned that she purchased it of Manasseh, the Jew. Yes, Sire, know -this and govern yourself accordingly: it seems that since he entered -France your cousin, the Emperor, has scattered so much money along the -road, that he is reduced to putting his diamonds in pawn; and Madame -d'Etampes, with royal magnificence, gathers in what the imperial poverty -cannot retain." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! by my honor as a gentleman, 't is most diverting!" cried François, -doubly flattered in his vanity as lover, and in his jealousy as king. -"But, fair lady," he added, addressing the duchess, "methinks you must -have ruined yourself in order to make such an acquisition, and it is for -us to repair the disordered state of your finances. Remember that we are -your debtor to the value of the diamond, for it is so magnificent that I -am determined that it shall come to you from a king's hand at least, if -not from an emperor's." -</p> - -<p> -"Thanks, Benvenuto," said the duchess in an undertone; "I begin to -believe, as you claim, that we were made to understand each other." -</p> - -<p> -"What are you saying?" cried the king. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, nothing, Sire! I was apologizing to the duchess for my first -suspicion, which she deigns to pardon,—a favor which is the more -generous on her part, in that the lily gave birth to another suspicion." -</p> - -<p> -"What was that?" demanded the king, while Diane, whose hate was too keen -to allow her to be deceived by this comedy, devoured her triumphant -rival with her eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes saw that she was not yet quit of her indefatigable foe, -and a shadow of dread passed across her face, but it should be said, in -justice to her courage, only to disappear immediately. -</p> - -<p> -Furthermore, she availed herself of the king's preoccupation, caused by -Benvenuto's words, to try to gain possession of the lily; but Benvenuto -carelessly placed himself between the king and her. -</p> - -<p> -"What was the suspicion? Oh!" the goldsmith said with a smile, "it was -so infamous that I am not sure that I shouldn't be ashamed of having -had it, and that it would not add to my offence to be so shameless as to -avow it. I must have an express command from your Majesty before I -should dare—" -</p> - -<p> -"Dare, Cellini! I command you!" said the king. -</p> - -<p> -"So be it. In the first place," said Cellini, "I confess with an -artist's candid pride, that I was surprised to see Madame d'Etampes -intrust the apprentice with a task which the master would have been -happy and proud to execute for her. You remember my apprentice, Ascanio, -Sire? He is a charming youth, who might venture to pose for Endymion, -upon my word." -</p> - -<p> -"Well! what then?" said the king, his brows contracting at the suspicion -which began to gnaw his heart. -</p> - -<p> -This time it was evident that, for all her self-control, Madame -d'Etampes was on the rack. In the first place she read malicious -curiosity in the eyes of Diane de Poitiers, and in the second place she -was well aware that, while François might have forgiven treason to the -king, he certainly would not forgive infidelity to the lover. However, -as if he did not notice her agony, Benvenuto continued:— -</p> - -<p> -"I reflected upon the beauty of my Ascanio, and it occurred to -me—forgive me, mesdames, if there was anything in the thought which -seems to cast a reflection upon the French, but I am accustomed to the -ways of our Italian princesses, who, in love, it must be confessed, are -very weak creatures—it occurred to me that a sentiment which had -little connection with art—" -</p> - -<p> -"Master," said François, frowning darkly, "reflect before you speak." -</p> - -<p> -"I apologized beforehand for my temerity, and asked to be permitted to -hold my peace." -</p> - -<p> -"I bear witness to that," said Diane; "you yourself bade him speak, -Sire; and now that he has begun—" -</p> - -<p> -"It is always time to stop," said Madame d'Etampes, "when one knows that -what one is about to say is a falsehood." -</p> - -<p> -"I will stop if you choose, madame," said Benvenuto; "you know that you -have but to say the word." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, but I choose that he shall continue. You are right, Diane; there -are matters here which must be probed to the bottom. Say on, monsieur, -say on," said the king, keeping his eyes fixed upon the sculptor and the -duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"My conjectures were taking a wide range when an incredible discovery -opened a new field to them." -</p> - -<p> -"What was it?" cried the king and Diane de Poitiers in the same breath. -</p> - -<p> -"I am getting in very deep," whispered Cellini to the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," said she, "you do not need to hold the lily in your hand to -listen to this long discourse. Your Majesty is so accustomed to hold a -sceptre in a firm grasp, that I fear the fragile flower may be broken in -your fingers." -</p> - -<p> -As she spoke, the duchess, with one of those smiles which belonged to -her alone, put out her hand to take the jewel. -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me, Madame la Duchesse," said Cellini; "but as the lily plays -an important part throughout my story, permit me to enforce my words -with ocular demonstration." -</p> - -<p> -"The lily plays an important part in the story you have to tell, -master?" cried Diane, snatching the flower from the king's hand with a -movement swift as thought. "In that case, Madame d'Etampes is right, for -if the story is at all what I suspect, it is much better that the lily -should be in my hands than in yours, Sire; for, purposely or not, your -Majesty might, by some uncontrollable impulse, break it." -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes became terribly pale, for she deemed herself lost; she -hastily seized Benvenuto's hand, and her lips opened to speak, but -almost immediately she thought better of it. Her hand let the artist's -fall, and her lips closed again. -</p> - -<p> -"Say what you have to say," she muttered through her clenched -teeth,—"if you dare!" she added in so low a tone that Benvenuto -alone could hear. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, and measure your words, my master," said the king. -</p> - -<p> -"And do you, madame, measure your silence," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"We are waiting!" cried Diane, unable to restrain her impatience. -</p> - -<p> -"Fancy, Sire, and you, madame, fancy that Ascanio and Madame la Duchesse -d'Etampes corresponded." -</p> - -<p> -The duchess looked about to see if there were not at hand some weapon -with which she could silence the goldsmith's tongue forever. -</p> - -<p> -"Corresponded?" echoed the king. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, corresponded; and the most extraordinary thing is that the subject -of this correspondence between Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes and the -humble carver's apprentice was love." -</p> - -<p> -"The proofs, master! you have proofs, I trust!" cried the king, in a -rage. -</p> - -<p> -"O mon Dieu! yes, Sire," replied Benvenuto. "Your Majesty must -understand that I should not have allowed myself to form such suspicions -without proofs." -</p> - -<p> -"Produce them instantly, then," said the king. -</p> - -<p> -"When I say that I have them, I am in error: your Majesty had them a -moment since." -</p> - -<p> -"I!" cried the king. -</p> - -<p> -"And Madame de Poitiers has them now." -</p> - -<p> -"I!" cried Diane. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes," rejoined Benvenuto, who, amid the king's wrath, and the hatred -and terror of the two most powerful women in the world, was perfectly -cool and complacent. "Yes, for the proofs are in the lily." -</p> - -<p> -"In the lily?" cried the king, snatching the flower from the hands of -Diane de Poitiers, and examining it with a careful scrutiny, in which -love of art had no share. "In this lily?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire, in the lily," Benvenuto repeated. "You know that it is so, -madame," he continued in a meaning tone, toward the gasping duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us come to terms," she whispered; "Colombe shall not marry -D'Orbec." -</p> - -<p> -"That is not enough," returned Cellini; "Ascanio must marry Colombe." -</p> - -<p> -"Never!" exclaimed Madame d'Etampes. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile the king was turning the fatal lily over and over in his -fingers, his suspense and wrath being the more poignant in that he dared -not express them openly. -</p> - -<p> -"The proofs are in the lily! in the lily!" he repeated; "but I can see -nothing in the lily." -</p> - -<p> -"Because your Majesty does not know the secret of opening it." -</p> - -<p> -"There is a secret. Show it me, messire, on the instant, or rather—" -</p> - -<p> -François made a movement as if to crush the flower, but both women -cried out, and he checked himself. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh Sire! it would be a pity," cried Diane; "such a charming toy! Give -it to me, Sire, and I promise you that if there is a secret I will find -it." -</p> - -<p> -Her slender, active fingers, to which hatred lent additional subtlety, -passed over all the rough places on the jewel, felt in all the hollows, -while the Duchesse d'Etampes, half fainting, followed with haggard eyes -her investigations, which for a moment were without result. But at last, -whether by good luck, or a rival's instinct of divination, Diane touched -the precise spot on the stalk. -</p> - -<p> -The flower opened. -</p> - -<p> -The two women cried out again at the same moment; one with joy, the -other with dismay. The duchess darted forward to tear the lily from -Diane's hand, but Benvenuto held her back with one hand, while with the -other he showed her the letter which he had taken from its hiding place. -A swift glance at the flower showed her that the hiding place was empty. -</p> - -<p> -"I agree to everything," said the duchess, completely crushed, and too -weak to maintain such a contest. -</p> - -<p> -"On the Gospel?" said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"On the Gospel." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, master," said the king, impatiently, "where are the proofs? I see -a recess very cleverly hollowed out in the stalk, but there is nothing -within it." -</p> - -<p> -"No, sire, there is nothing," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"True, but there might have been something," suggested Diane. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame is right," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"Master!" cried the king through his clenched teeth "do you know that it -may be dangerous for you to prolong this pleasantry, and that stronger -men than you have repented playing with my anger?" -</p> - -<p> -"For that reason I should be in despair were I to incur it, Sire," -rejoined Cellini, without losing his composure; "but there is nothing in -the present circumstances to arouse it, for I trust your Majesty did not -take my words seriously. Should I have dared to bring so grave an -accusation so lightly? Madame d'Etampes can show you the letters this -lily contained, if you are curious to see them. They are in fact -concerned with love, but it is the love of my poor Ascanio for a noble -demoiselle,—a passion which at first seems insane and impossible, -doubtless; but my Ascanio, like the true artist he is, fancying that a -beautiful jewel falls not far short of equalling in value a beautiful -maiden, applied to Madame d'Etampes as to a special providence, and made -this lily his messenger. Now, you know, Sire, that Providence can do -anything, and you will not be jealous of this particular one, I fancy, -since, while doing a kindly action, she attributes part of the credit to -you. That is the solution of the enigma, Sire, and if all the beating -about the bush I have indulged in has offended your Majesty, I pray you -to forgive me in consideration of the familiarity to which you have been -graciously pleased to admit me." -</p> - -<p> -This quasi academic harangue changed the face of affairs. As Benvenuto -went on, Diane's brow grew dark, while the wrinkles vanished from that -of Madame d'Etampes, and the king resumed his smiling good humor. When -Benvenuto had finished,— -</p> - -<p> -"Forgive me, fair duchess," said François, "for having dared to suspect -you for an instant. Tell me what I can do to redeem my offence and earn -my forgiveness." -</p> - -<p> -"Grant the request which Madame la Duchesse d'Etampes is about to make, -as your Majesty heretofore granted the one that I made." -</p> - -<p> -"Speak for me, Master Cellini, since you know what it is that I wish," -said the duchess with better grace than Cellini would have thought -possible. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well: since Madame la Duchesse appoints me to be her mouthpiece, -Sire, you must know that she desires your all-powerful intervention in -favor of poor Ascanio's passion." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes!" laughed the king; "I agree with all my heart to assist in -making the comely apprentice a happy man. What is the name of his -sweetheart?" -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe d'Estourville, sire." -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe d'Estourville!" cried François. -</p> - -<p> -"I pray your Majesty to remember that it is Madame d'Etampes who -proffers this request. Come, madame, add your prayers to mine," he -added, causing a corner of the letter to protrude from his pocket, "for -if you are silent much longer, his Majesty will think that you make the -request solely from a desire to oblige me." -</p> - -<p> -"Is it true that you desire this marriage, madame?" inquired François. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sire," murmured Madame d'Etampes; "I do desire it—earnestly." -</p> - -<p> -The adverb was extracted by a fresh exhibition of the letter. -</p> - -<p> -"But how do I know," said the king, "that the provost will accept for -his son-in-law a nameless, penniless youth?" -</p> - -<p> -"In the first place, Sire," Benvenuto replied, "the provost, being a -loyal subject, will surely have no other will than his king's. In the -second place, Ascanio is not nameless; he is a Gaddo Gaddi, and one of -his ancestors was Podesta of Florence. He is a goldsmith, it is true, -but in Italy it is no disgrace to belong to that guild. Furthermore, -even if he could boast of no ancient nobility, as I am at liberty to -insert his name in the letters patent which have been forwarded to me by -your Majesty's directions, he will be a nobleman of recent creation. Oh, -think not that it requires any sacrifice on my part to resign in his -favor. To reward my Ascanio is to reward myself twice over. So it is -settled, Sire, that he is Seigneur de Nesle, and I will not let him want -for money. He may, if he will, lay aside his profession, and buy a -company of lances, or an appointment at court. I will provide the -funds." -</p> - -<p> -"And we shall look to it, you may be sure, that your generosity does not -lighten your purse too much." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I may consider, Sire—" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio Gaddo Gaddi, Seigneur de Nesle, let it be!" cried the king, -laughing heartily: the certainty that Madame d'Etampes was faithful to -him had put him in a joyous humor. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame," said Cellini, in an undertone, "you cannot in conscience leave -the Seigneur de Nesle at the Châtelet; it was well enough for Ascanio." -</p> - -<p> -Madame d'Etampes called an officer of the guards, and whispered a few -words, the concluding ones being these:— -</p> - -<p> -"In the king's name!" -</p> - -<p> -"What are you doing, madame?" demanded François. -</p> - -<p> -"Madame d'Etampes is simply sending a messenger for the bridegroom that -is to be, Sire," interposed Cellini. -</p> - -<p> -"Where?" -</p> - -<p> -"Where Madame d'Etampes, who knew the king's kindness of heart, bade him -await your Majesty's pleasure." -</p> - -<p> -Fifteen minutes later, the door of the apartment opened, in which were -assembled Colombe, the provost, D'Orbec, the Spanish ambassador, and -almost the whole court, except Marmagne, who was still confined to his -bed. An usher cried,— -</p> - -<p> -"The king!" -</p> - -<p> -François I. entered, leading Diane de Poitiers, and followed by -Benvenuto, upon one of whose arms was leaning the Duchesse d'Etampes, -and on the other Ascanio, each of them being as pale as the other. -</p> - -<p> -At the announcement made by the usher, all the courtiers turned, and all -were paralyzed for a moment when they saw this strange group. -</p> - -<p> -Their astonishment redoubled when the king, stepping aside to allow the -sculptor to pass in front of him, said in a loud voice:— -</p> - -<p> -"Master Benvenuto, take our place for the moment, and our authority; -speak as if you were the king, and be obeyed as a king should be." -</p> - -<p> -"Beware, Sire," replied the goldsmith: "in order to fill your place -fittingly, I propose to be magnificent." -</p> - -<p> -"Go on, Benvenuto," said François laughingly; "every magnificent stroke -will be a bit of flattery for me." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good, Sire; that puts me at my ease, and I will praise you as much -as I can. Do not forget," he continued, "all you who hear me, that the -king is speaking by my mouth. Messieurs les Notaires, you have prepared -the contract which his Majesty deigns to sign? Insert the names of the -contracting parties." -</p> - -<p> -The two notaries seized their pens and made ready to write the names in -the two copies of the contract, one of which was to remain in the -archives and the other in their office. -</p> - -<p> -"Of the one part," continued Cellini, "the noble and puissant -demoiselle, Colombe d'Estourville." -</p> - -<p> -"Colombe d'Estourville," repeated the notaries, mechanically, while the -auditors listened in open-mouthed astonishment. -</p> - -<p> -"Of the other part," continued Cellini, "the most noble and puissant -Ascanio Gaddi, Seigneur de Nesle." -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio Gaddi!" cried the provost and D'Orbec in the same breath. -</p> - -<p> -"A mere artisan!" added the provost bitterly, turning toward the king. -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio Gaddi, Seigneur de Nesle," repeated Benvenuto, unmoved, "upon -whom his Majesty bestows letters of naturalization and the office of -Superintendent of the Royal Châteaux." -</p> - -<p> -"If his Majesty so commands, I will obey," said the provost; "but—" -</p> - -<p> -"Ascanio Gaddi," continued Benvenuto, "out of regard for whom his -Majesty grants to Messire Robert d'Estourville, Provost of Paris, the -title of Chamberlain." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire, I am ready to sign," said D'Estourville, vanquished at last. -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" murmured Colombe, falling back into her chair, "is -not all this a dream?" -</p> - -<p> -"And what of me?" cried D'Orbec. -</p> - -<p> -"As for you," rejoined Cellini, continuing his royal functions; "as for -you, Comte d'Orbec, I spare you the inquiry which I should be justified -in ordering into your conduct. Clemency is a kingly virtue, no less than -generosity, is it not, Sire? But here are the contracts, all prepared; -let us sign, messieurs, let us sign!" -</p> - -<p> -"He plays the king to perfection," cried François, as happy as a -monarch on a vacation. -</p> - -<p> -He passed the pen to Ascanio, who signed with a trembling hand; Ascanio -then passed the pen to Colombe, to whose assistance Madame Diane had -gone in pure kindness of heart. The hands of the lovers met, and they -almost swooned. -</p> - -<p> -Next came Madame Diane, who passed the pen to the Duchesse d'Etampes, -who passed it to the provost, the provost to D'Orbec, and D'Orbec to the -Spanish ambassador. -</p> - -<p> -Below all these great names Cellini wrote his own in a firm, distinct -hand. And yet he was not the one who had made the least painful -sacrifice. -</p> - -<p> -After writing his name, the Spanish ambassador drew nigh the duchess. -</p> - -<p> -"Our plans still hold, madame?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Mon Dieu!" she replied, "do what you choose: what matters France or the -world to me?" -</p> - -<p> -The duke bowed. As he resumed his place, his nephew, a young and -inexperienced diplomat, remarked:— -</p> - -<p> -"So it is the Emperor's purpose that not the King of France, but his -son, shall be Duke of Milan?" -</p> - -<p> -"Neither the one nor the other will be," replied the ambassador. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile other signatures were being affixed. -</p> - -<p> -When every one had written his name as a subscriber to the happiness of -Colombe and Ascanio, Benvenuto walked up to the king, and knelt upon one -knee before him. -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," said he, "having issued commands as king I now prefer a request -as your Majesty's humble and grateful servant. Will your Majesty deign -to grant me one last favor?" -</p> - -<p> -"Say on, Benvenuto, say on!" returned François, who was in a granting -mood, and who discovered anew that it was the prerogative of royalty -wherein, take it for all in all, a king finds the most pleasure; "what -do you desire?" -</p> - -<p> -"To return to Italy, sire," said Benvenuto. -</p> - -<p> -"What does this mean?" cried the king; "you wish to leave me when you -have so many masterpieces still in hand for me? I'll not have it." -</p> - -<p> -"Sire," replied Benvenuto, "I will return, I give you my word. But let -me go, let me see my country once more, for I feel the need of it just -now. I do not talk of my suffering," he continued, lowering his voice -and shaking his head sadly, "but I have many causes of sorrow which I -could not describe, and nothing but the air of my native land can heal -my wounded heart. You are a great and generous king, to whom I am deeply -attached. I will return, Sire, but let me go now and be cured in the -bright sunlight of the South. I leave with you Ascanio, my brain, and -Pagolo, my hand; they will suffice to carry out your artistic dreams -until my return; and when I have received the soft kisses of the breezes -of Florence, my mother, I will return to you, my king, and death alone -shall part us." -</p> - -<p> -"Go if you will," said François, sadly; "it is fitting that art should -be free as the swallows: go!" -</p> - -<p> -He gave Benvenuto his hand, which the artist kissed with all the fervor -of heartfelt gratitude. -</p> - -<p> -As they withdrew, Benvenuto found himself by the duchess's side. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you very angry with me, madame?" said he, slipping into her hand -the fatal letter which, like a magic talisman, had accomplished -impossibilities. -</p> - -<p> -"No," said the duchess, overjoyed to have it in her possession at last; -"and yet you defeated me by means—" -</p> - -<p> -"Go to!" said Benvenuto; "I threatened you with them, but do you think I -would have used them?" -</p> - -<p> -"God in heaven!" cried the duchess, as if the light had suddenly come to -her; "that is what it is to have thought that you were like myself!" -</p> - -<p> -The next day, Ascanio and Colombe were married in the chapel at the -Louvre, and, notwithstanding the rules of etiquette, the young people -obtained permission for Jacques Aubry and his wife to be present. -</p> - -<p> -It was a signal favor, but we must agree that the poor student had well -merited it. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="chap23_II"></a></h4> - -<h4>XXIII -<br /><br /> -MARIAGE DE CONVENANCE</h4> - -<p> -A week later, Hermann solemnly espoused Dame Perrine, who brought him as -her marriage portion twenty thousand Tours livres, and the assurance -that he would soon be a father. -</p> - -<p> -We hasten to say that this assurance had much more to do with the honest -German's determination than the twenty thousand Tours livres. -</p> - -<p> -On the evening following the marriage of Colombe and Ascanio, Benvenuto -set out for Florence, despite the entreaties of the young husband and -wife. -</p> - -<p> -During his stay in Italy, he cast the statue of Perseus, which still -adorns the square of the Old Palace, and which was his most beautiful -work,—for no other reason, perhaps, than that he executed it at the -period of his greatest sorrow. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>THE END.</h4> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASCANIO ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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